2022 Lake Whatcom Triathlon

I really hoped to complete a triathlon this year in order to: 1) feel like legitimate triathlete and 2) make all my Zwift rides and spa swims seem meaningful.

Months ago I signed up for Lake Whatcom. I waivered endlessly on whether to actually do the event, then 48 hours before race time I decide my body can withstand a slow, Olympic distance effort. 

I like Lake Whatcom for its laid back vibe, convenience, camaraderie and scenery. 

I cobble together a sorry assortment of gear that I had left in Seattle - bike trekking shoes, Brooks Revel training flats, an old road bike purchased in the early 1990.. plus some lemon-flavored cookies and a flowery beige bath towel, 

As I setup before the race  the guy racking his bike on one side of me told me it was his first triathlete and that I looked like a veteran  “Really?  Do I just look old? I'm setting up my trekking gear and cookies on a bath towel?"  On the other side of me is a relay team made up of 50+ females who seem even less serious and competitive than me -- I take numerous photos for them and we all banter about our poor preparation and lame equipment before heading to the lake.  

I do feel strong on the swim and bike legs.  

But in fact I am hopelessly slow.  Over two hours have elapsed when I get to the bike-run transition and my slow time combined with my starting in the final wave means I am still near last place. 

As I arrive in transition, the swimmer from the enthusiastic 50+ relay team I took photos of earlier greets me - and she is now really hyped up — she exhorts me to go faster through each step of transition:  “go go - helmet off! get your run shoes on! lace them up! hurry, hurry!!"  

I then proceed to have a little picnic on my bath towel ---lathering on sunscreen, nibbling on cookies, sipping Powerade, stretching, and doing my important glute exercises. 

I finally do start running and as all my friendly, enthusiastic fellow back-of-the-pack participants cheer me on as I run past them, I realize I should at least try to make an effort to break 3 hours. 

Breaking 3 hours turns out to be harder than I initially expect.

The last half of the 10k course includes some long, winding uphills and these nasty stairs:   

Thanks to a frenetic pace over the last few kilometers, I manage to just barely break 3 hours.  

Hardly a fast time, but I am happy to be able to consider myself a triathlete again now after over three years of not racing.