Getting there. The race that almost never was.

American Zofingen Duathlon SC Race Report

Looking back at this past weekend, and the logistical hell that ensued early on, the race actually turned out to be the easiest part. (And I’d like to think that’s saying something when you talk about the infamous American Zofingen.) Kick and pedal like hell. Everyone and everything disappears when I’m in that special place, and there is never ever anywhere else I’d rather be. What an awesomely challenging race, with a culture and soul unparallel to anything I’ve experienced to date. Equal parts competition, participants, family, friends, and organization, made this a beautiful event.

Unfortunately, I can’t say the whole weekend was as nice as those 6 hours we got to spend at the race. Nope. Hardly. Saturday began for me, after researching all last week on the riding section and pinging my coach, with the decision to go use the road bike opposed to the new beauty. Painful decision, but I knew in my heart of hearts, a race is no place to test week old equipment. Luckily, this worked out well for me, as in my opinion, and as my legs proved, having a tri bike/aggressive aero position for this race was largely, if not fully negated, by the amount of climbing involved (I’ll get to that).

Therefore early Saturday, after setting off for a quick 30 minute prescribed flush of the legs in the park, I set to task to get the old S-Works ready for battle. She was in need of some love, and albeit I’ve been training on her solely to this day, she was getting a mysterious creak that first made itself heard in the hills of Connecticut. I’ve trained and raced on that bike for 5 years, maybe longer, but she’s still a beauty, in excellent mechanical shape. Sure, she’s pretty heavy by today’s standards, but with a geometry that is perfect for power, she’ll always be in the arsenal.

After wheeling her out onto the balcony, I stripped the drivetrain down. First place to look for creaks. Pulled off the cranks, bottom bracket petals, degreased, greased, reassembled and dialed-in the front and rear mech after a little cable stretch. That was a couple hour process, but she was good to go. Next in order was the wheels. Albeit, I wasn’t going to go aero, I was going to get every advantage I could. That meant lacing up the new HED 6/9. And after a quick switch of the Ksyrium SL’s/cassette, Little Red, was looking ready for the charge. Or so I thought…

After another hour or so to ready the gear bag, cleaning up the mug for the big race, we headed out for a walk around the town. We had some errands to run, and I needed a minute to decompress before we were to pick up the Zip Car at 4PM. Well, I think we got a total of 30 minutes of decompression before the call came. I didn’t recognize the number, so naturally, I let it go to voicemail. Then, came the voicemail. Hmmm? Intrigued I listened. Went something like this:

Hi Terrence, this is ———- from Zip Car. We do apologize but we have to cancel your scheduled Zip Car for this evening at 4PM until tomorrow at 3PM. We’re sorry for the inconvenience, and please call us at 1-866-4ZIPCAR if you have any questions.

Panic. Panic. Mind you this was at 3PM that I got this call. 3PM!! I couldn’t even really get that angry, I was too worried about finding a way to get up there. We were on our way home, and upon entering the apartment I immediately called, and explained the situation. How could you cancel now, this late, without helping or offering an alternative? Ridiculous! So I spend the next 35 minutes on the phone with customer service, as they tried desperately to find me another car for those hours. Forget it. NYC, an hour before I have to leave, on a nice weekend; every freaking car in the city was unavailable during those times. And this is NYC, there must be thousands of those damn things.

After 20 minutes, Michelle went to work desperately with the rental companies, but even that was sounding hopeless. Finally, Zip Car found me one. A truck, way up on 83rd street in Manhattan, available from 9PM Saturday to 1PM Sunday. I took it. I had to, what were my options?! Not go? No way!! Although I was thinking that perhaps all this was bad juju. Maybe this is a ominous sign? Reason eventually won out, as I had been obsessing about doing this race; no way was I going to skip. Eventually, after hanging up, I spent another hour looking for a car that was a better option, until the miracle happened. A Nissan Altima in Williamsburg, available from 7PM Saturday to 4PM Sunday. I immediately called to book the car, and cancel the other, and do so with a live person so to avoid any charges. Ha! She tried, until I finally lost my cool and took it out on her. Sorry customer service girl. In the end, no charge, and we were finally go for that evening, with a three hour delayed departure.

All this took hours. Suddenly it was 5PM, and we were both zapped from the adrenaline of seeing the race potentially slip away. Although we wouldn’t get the weekend we planned, at least we’d make the race. That being said, and knowing now I had a car reserved opposed to the SUV I had, I set to work disassembling my bike so that it would fit. I just wanted to lube the chain first, and for those of us that don’t know, that involved flipping the bike, grabbing the crank and hand-pedaling while dropping stuff on the chain. Follow that up with a quick click through of the gears to drop some on the rear cassette, and call it good. Except, you see, it was by no means….good. Remember when I said above ‘Or so I thought…’? Yeah, this is that.

What was going on? Suddenly the rear mech I dialed in earlier was not shifting the full 10 in the rear. And then I saw!! The old cassette’s stack height pulled from my Ksyrium did not match the cassette hub body, and thus was loose! I would’ve been totally hosed, and possibly not even been able to ride had I gone to the race like that. I immediately started looking for another spacer, and after grabbing one from another cassette, I got just the right amount to make a snug fit when I tightened down the lock ring. The wheels now fixed, pulled, bagged, and everything set by the door. Things finally seemed to be O.K., and I really can’t help but think now when reflecting, the car being canceled, was the best thing that could’ve happened…strange.

That ended up killing another frantic half hour. Food was the next order of business, and after a quick bite, we decided on a car to Williamsburg to get the Zip Car. Subways were not an option. Finally, as we slowly approached the garage, we were there. Hmm, not back yet, but that was O.K., we were a few minutes early, so we decide to take a walk around the block. That’s when the call came. I recognized the number this time.

Hello.

Hi, is this Terrence?

Yes it is.

This is ——- from Zip Car, we’re calling to let you know that the current driver with the Zip Car you have reserved is going to be late.

Do you know how late.

Oh, just 20-25 minutes.

Thank you.

And I hung up. I was defeated by this point. What could we do? So we sat on the curb, and waited impatiently, until finally it arrived. Stupid hipsters, no respect. Anyway, we were shortly on our way back to our place to pick up the gear. And shortly thereafter that, we were on our way to New Paltz. After a two hour uneventful drive, we arrived at the hotel, checked in, and both passed out. We made it.

The next morning began for us at 5:30 AM. We knew we had to pick up my bib number the next morning before the race, and wanted to leave some getting lost time. After the standard oatmeal, yogurt, etc, etc, breakfast, suiting up, lacing up, packing up, we were on our way to Mohonk Preserve. We arrived at approximately 7:30 or a little thereafter. Just in time to see the long course guys and gals head off. Coach Midge got the gear bookbag ready to go and with the bike put back together we set-off down the trail towards the direction the first wave just came from. There was no missing the transition area as we came around the corner. It was already stacked to the gills and buzzing. After checking in and getting my number, I wheeled Little Red down, racked her, set out my gear, and waited anxiously for the next hour in a beautiful, yet chilly 45 degrees.

About 30 minutes into our wait, the middle distance wave took off for their 5/30/5/30/5 bout with the hills of upstate New York. Once that happened, I knew it was 30 minutes until the short course wimps would be toeing the line. With one last final check of the transition area I was as ready as I was going to be. Around 8:20 the timing ankle bracelets handed out, and once that was strapped tight, it was time to toe the line. Once the last guy fell in, we were ready to, and after a short intro of the course, and the suffering we were in for, the moment I’d been obsessing about for a week came with all it’s fury. And, with that, we were charging ahead.

From the get-go, as it tends to be with short courses, it was pretty much all out. One of the guy’s I was sizing up, that looked dangerous, was immediately off the front. I was surprised at the pace, and kicked it up a notch to try to pass some of the mass before popping of the dirt fire road into some serious cross country grass action. I managed to get by a few, but in all honesty it didn’t really feel like much. Immediately the course and group took through some rolling green fields at a very aggressive clip. It wasn’t 2-3 minutes in before we were surprised with a bog/mud/marsh section that nearly sucked a foot of mine down. Directly after that, we entered the woods, and with a drainage ditch jump of a couple feet, the trail turned directly to technical, very steep (up), single track.

This is where it got interesting, and oh so difficult. It was pretty much the North Face Endurance Challenge all over again. I mean, this was some serious up, and it just kept going. The pace slowed a bit, but not much by any means as we drove up the first section. I felt pretty quickly winded, but totally under control. For the good part of the first couple miles it was pretty much up. The difference with this course though, and thankfully, is that outside of only one section that I can remember, the downs were not technical, and hence fast. I didn’t have to hold back like I did the week before, and was able to really charge through these sections. But just to give you a picture, there were downed trees, sections of successive planks laid down, roots, rocks, and a hell of a series of technical tight climbs. It was pretty intense, and pretty rad.

By the time we came through the first aid station, we had pretty much sectioned off into small groups of two or three. I could see two in front of me, not far, but knew catching them would burn too much, so I decided to pace from afar. That, and the guy behind me was doing a great job of pushing me, and by mile 3 or so, it was just he and I, and the two I could see ahead. That remained pretty much the same for the duration of the first 4 miles, and it wasn’t long before we could hear the cheers outside of the woods, and came barreling back down onto some grassy fields, for a approximately a couple tenths of a mile before the transition came into sight. I managed to put some space in between me and the guy behind me coming out of the woods. A little gap of 10-15 seconds that carried through into transition.

The two I saw in front of me were also in the process of transitioning when I came in, so I knew I’d have a chance to get them both on the bike leg. My transition was pretty smooth, and in under a minute I was off down the gravel road out of the preserve, and at the end a left onto the road that would start us on the first mile of the bike leg. The first mile, as it turns out, that was entirely up. The two in front of me on the trail, were now very close on the road. The first I came upon, I chatted with for a moment, who having done this 4 times before, informed me that this section wasn’t bad, i.e., this climb was ‘only a mile’. I motored by him pretty effortlessly, obviously not as strong on the bike, making my way towards trying to gobble up the second one. Unfortunately, I didn’t get her on the climb, and within a few moments of the apex, she was zipping away at a speed I didn’t have confidence to try to match. Definitely somewhere close to 50+, as I was in the 40’s. That and on this first bit of down, that same guy I passed, zipped around me as well in a full tucked position. That’s O.K. though, I’d get him on the next hill, and it wasn’t long before the road turned up again, and I did exactly that. This time though, he didn’t pass me again.

I remember now, that I turned around to get a gauge of what was behind, when I saw the guy that was pacing me in the woods. Good news though, is that was the last I saw of him for the day. After a quick right, and some down, we were into some serious climbing again, miles of it, and here is where I got a chance to gobble up a few more, including the gal from the run. This was a pretty serious climb, and I won’t soon forget the guy, whoever he was, diesel as hell, who motored by me at at least twice the speed in full aero position, going up!! That was the last I saw of him too, and I still have no idea who it was. That climb crested on some of the most beautiful scenery I’ve seen in New York to date. At the top, the trees cleared, and you could literally see out over the Catskills as far as the eye could see. I probably looked for a total of 5 seconds, but it really stuck in my mind. It was gorgeous.

That 5 second look, was quickly refocused the some serious declines, and tucking fully in, I managed to start to wheel in a few others. But for the remainder of the ride, I crept up a lone soul, and managed just to keep him about 50 feet out. I did wheel around him once, but he didn’t like that too much, and came back around shortly. I wasn’t too worried, was still feeling pretty strong, and didn’t want to blow anything I could use on the run. Together he and I pulled in another 1 or 2, but that was about it for the day.

And after coming around a bend on another long climb, I was utterly surprised we were back again with the preserve entrance in sight. The whole time on the bike leg, I was scared to look at the odometer, and focused just on the time I was out, knowing generally how long I expected it to take. What I didn’t expect, was to blow that away, and come in well ahead of what I had planned. That was just enough to put some charge in me, and just in time, as the gal I passed back at the start, had just now found my wheel again.

At the crest of the fire road, transition was in sight, and after a quick dismount I was running my bike to the rack. After another pretty smooth transition, I was off, and grabbing a water at the aid station was off running. My legs felt a little jelly at first, but within a matter of minutes I was feeling pretty good. Trouble is, that gal, came flying by me. I told her as she passed me yet again, that she’d probably ‘chicked me’ like 4 times today. After a laugh, she was gone, and there was nothing I could do to match it. Goodbye Mendy. Heading back down the grassy fields towards the woods, I came up on another guy. I started to recognize that the bib numbers were color coded for the different course lengths when I was on the bike leg. Passing many that had started the middle course 30 minutes earlier. Same deal here, and as I came up on him, he gave me a good boost:

You finishing up?

Yep, last lap.

Damn, you guys are fast. You’re lapping us.

That was pretty rad. And from here it was into the woods. This was pretty much a man against psyche run, as everyone I passed hear on out was from the middle course. I was running my own race now. What did surprise me though, was the guy that was off the front, far off the front, at the start of the race I was now passing in the woods. I knew immediately the guy had flatted. He looked pretty fatigued, I’m sure from trying to make up the time. Still incredibly impressive, to have flatted and still be where he was on the course. He and I yo-yoed a bit, until I finally pulled away. I kept a good clip these last few miles, passing quite a few which is always good for the morale. And with what seemed like a blink I was rolling into the finish to the cheering Michelle and race friends and family. Anyone who races know what this can do for you when you think you have nothing left; and it did. I kicked it up and flew across the line to the melodic ‘beep’. I was done. Couple guys, still hanging out at the finish gave me a pat, and a ‘good time’ confirmation. But I really wasn’t sure just how good it was.

It wasn’t long after that, the preliminary results were printed. To my absolute surprise, there my name was, exactly 6 spots down from the top. I was in shock. I had raced the best race of my life, at the most difficult race of my life. And as it would turn out that came with an age group first place. The first ever. I told Michelle that I thought I had gotten first in my age group, but fully wasn’t expecting anything, until I saw a table of ‘trophies’, with way more places than just overall. I’m so glad I asked at this point, because we were just about to leave after fueling for an hour. Turns out, there would be age group awards, and it also turns out, I was first.

What an awesome, emotional day. I won’t tell you about the 5 hours it took us to get home, but it was par for the course with the day we’d had just 24 hours prior. Let’s just leave it with this. I think this is all I want to remember…