This past weekend was the last tri of the season for me (at least as far as I know…). It was an Olympic distance and it went, well, it went alright. It was a new PR for me, but I found myself less than pleased with it – it was barely a PR. But breaking down my splits, it didn’t add up – my swim time was just a minute or two slower than what I’ve been averaging this season. Actually slightly slower than I’d like to be, but I need to push myself more on the swim instead of cruising… another topic for another day. My bike was a full 7 minutes faster than my last Olympic distance back in July, and my time for the 10K run was almost dead even with my last Olympic distance race. So. By all logic, I should have hit a new PR by at least 5 minutes and yet…
I had only broken my PR by about a minute. What gives? Ah, darn transitions. The thing I don’t ever train for… Killed me this time!
We had been running late the morning of the race. Really late. And when we got there, we had to pick up packets, only to find out that my hubby’s registration didn’t go through so we had to straighten that out, track down the guy running the timing for the day and set up our transitions, get all wetsuited up and get down to the beach in time for the start. Whew. It was close. Needless to say, I was so rushed that I didn’t pay any attention to where we had stashed our bikes (racks weren’t labeled by numbers, it was a free for all). And I had hurriedly pulled all of my stuff out, not really in any sensible way. Boy did I pay for it. My transitions were all out of whack, especially T1. And that’s what cost me my opportunity to smash my PR. Silly transitions.
Ah, well. That’s the joy of racing, right? Anything can happen. Frankly, I’m not going to be practicing my transitions any time soon. And I suppose I’ll take rocky transitions over cramps or a flat tire any day. But next time I think I’ll make it a point to be there just a little earlier. Even if it means this “s0 not a morning person” needs to get up just a smidge earlier.