Oh Fudge, A Flat: Coronation Race Report

Race day. Its always nerve wracking.

Well no, not really. Triathlons are usually first thing in the morning, so you're usually too tired to even think of nerves. Its more of a stumble and drag out of bed and into the car, the nerves don't seem to set in until right at the start line.

One advantage to living with two fellow team-mates (and often others the day before a race), is the whole house is up and about by 5am on race day. Which means cranking up pump up music on the stereo while eating breakfast and prepping the bikes. SO MUCH WIN! The only thing that would have made that 'win' in caps locks AND bolded would have been if breakfast was brotein waffles*.

*Brotein waffles - noun - according to a certain tall ginger triathlete whom I have the pleasure of living with, a brotein waffle is when a house full of guys makes waffles with protein powder. Bros don't make protein waffles, they make brotein waffles!

Coronation is a funny race, as this is Alberta and the weather is, shall we say, more volatile than Donald Trump. Due to this fact, the swim takes place in a 50m pool. All ~300 athletes go through that pool, 4-6 at a time per lane, slowest to fastest. This means that myself and my peers didn't race until the last heat, which went at 10:45am - but transition closed at 7am. So we had to be at the race site by 6:30am to set up transition, and then we just chilled for hours until it was time to warm up.

My team-mate and I wound up in the same lane swim and we swim roughly similar times in practice, so we decided to swim the 1km drafting. Every 100m the leader would pull to the side and let the person behind take the lead. This worked quite well, and helped me swim a faster time then I think may have been possible otherwise on the day - given my continued (and annoyingly persistent) shoulder problems.

With the swim down, I took off to transition. Now while racing one tends to envision themselves looking powerful and strong in race photos. In reality, often you just look like your dying.

I charge to my bike in transition, strap on my helmet, un-rack and take off. I had taken no more than two steps towards the exit of transition when I realized my front tire was completely flat. Sometime between when I had pumped it up at 5am, checked it again at 7am as transition closed, and when I entered T1 at roughly 11am - my tube had sprung a leak. To quote Jennifer Lawrence, "I thought of a bad word that I can't say, that starts with 'F'".

With no flat repair kit, as I had left it at home due to the shorter nature of this race, I had to quickly decide if I was going to bike the entire course on a front wheel flat or call it a day and pack it in.

As my mother, Tracy Fenske, often states "Mama didn't raise no quitters." The fact that one would expect a more eloquent phrasing from someone with a genius IQ level aside, the point is a valid description of my attitude. I was finishing the damn race.

So away I went. This course was 26km, 4 laps of a 3km downhill, 3km uphill, and a few km of flat sections. Riding on a flat is hard work I found, very hard work. Mind-numbingly hard work. My legs were screaming at me, and of course with a flat I couldn't coast on the downhills - I had to push just as hard to get downhill as I did uphill. I have never worked harder to maintain a 30km/hr average speed in my life. Also turning on a flat is a challenge and your balance is really off - hence my stiff armed look.

Regardless, I finished the bike, transitioned to the run and took off - or tried too. After working that hard on the bike with no rest even on downhills, my legs were shredded. Just destroyed. That 8km run hurt like none other, and I finished in a time I do not feel like sharing.

But I did finish. Which is good, because my mama 'didn't raise no quitters.'

Side note: I find this meme hilarious!

All round it was a good day for the club, everyone came home with a medal (except myself, although I likely would have been third had things gone well given that third place was my time from last year), and one lucky gal I train with won a $2,800 Cervelo bike! Couldn't have gone to a more deserving person, so happy it was her and not someone else who won the bike in the draw. Perfect time for a team shot with coach!

I was upset at the bad luck, and my own stupidity for neglecting to bring the flat repair kit to the race, but all-in-all I realized you gotta take the good races with the bad. I had a good day with my mates, we got free food (and ran off with armfulls of free sandwhiches which are currently stored in our fridge), and the weather was perfect and 18 degrees - suprisingly. And fortunately this wasn't a qualification race.

Also, I realized after the fact I had a faster race time with the flat tire and shredded legs than I did at this same race 2 years ago when I raced my first triathlon - which says something to my improvement in recent times.

PS - Sometimes its good to laugh at yourself - such as this photo perfectly demonstrating the most awkward way to dismount from a bike:

Talk to you later, interweb!

Cheers!

Bryan

Salutations Blog-o-Sphere

Well I cracked. Like humpty dumpty I've fallen right off the fence into the field of social norms...and started a blog.

As much as I hate to admit it, a lot of this social media and inter-connectedness is actually quite useful. Especially when you have a variety of people from all different areas of your life wanting race (and occasionally training) updates and you get tired of repeating the same story six times or neglect to reply to some people all together.

Hence the blog. Now I can write all my updates in one place, keep the 6 people or so who are interested up to date, and not leave anyone out of the loop.

Since your reading this, you likely already know a decent amount about me - given that I am just too sinfully boring and painfully obscure for you to have searched my name on your own free will. However, I do feel obliged to finish off my first blog post with some random information about my 24 year existence on this, the third rock from the sun, and how I got to my present position in life. I also enjoy poking fun at myself, which you will see often on this page.

I was the first born and only son to Neil and Tracy Fenske and arrived during the magical month of May, 1989. This makes me 24. Which as my sister pointed out is quite old, is dangerously close to 25, or a quarter of a century, and I might as well hang up my runners and sign into a retirement home immediately.

I like water, always have (swimming in it has been another story entirely).

I also loved to eat and spent most of my childhood being the furthest thing from athletic. As can be seen in the infamous "roll photo" below.

I spent most of my high school years obsessed with the arts. I played trumpet up to 30 hours a week. I also decided it was a smashing idea to grow shoulder length hair and try out meditating in Irish t-shirts.

The majority of my after-school hours was dedicated to drama, including many hours on two musical theatre productions directed by the late Mr. Ewasiuk; Li'l Abner and Seussical the Musical - where I learned many valuable skills (note the sarcasm) such as how to apply eyeliner. Needless to say, its a good thing I'm a dude and after the play was done I never had to touch the stuff again.

I had dreams of continuing on in music, working, and one day making the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra. But then one day I had a complete brain aneurysm and decided to take up running instead. I finished off Grade 12 in style, racing early in the morning the same day I celebrated graduation.

I continued on into University beginning my studies majoring in Mathematics as well as training and competing with the University of Alberta Golden Bears Track and Field and Cross-Country teams. Needless to say, young adult-hood is a time for discovering what you want in life. I graduated in 2011 with a Bachelor of Commerce in Management Information Systems. Despite years of running with the Bears, and many fond memories, athletically I never found the slightest shred of success running. Truth be told, I sucked. And struggled. And repeatedly got frustrated. Eventually I just gave up. Although I did look sweet in the uniform.

It sounds a bit negative, but its an honest assessment. 2011 was a pivotal turning point in my life and athletic career. My frustration and desire to give up caused me to push harder than I should have, and ignore my body in an effort to catch up to people who by my age had already been running and training for a full decade more than I had (remember pudgy and artsy Bryan? ... not exactly good base training). The result was three serious stress fractures in my left foot. I had to stop running.

Someone suggested to me that I try a triathlon for kicks and giggles, as something different, and to refresh my attempts at running. So, with a busted foot, I began swimming - a ton. Multiple times a day actually. In a few months I went from not being able to swim 25 metres, to swimming 1500m in under 26 minutes. My fractures healed and then came the day. My first triathlon. Coronation, 2011. I was quite nervous, it was all so new. I set up my cyclo-cross bike in transition and headed to the pool. Looking like a total noob in my bright pink swim cap.

I came 8th, somehow, and fell in love with the sport during that race. I was hooked. And I looked sweet in a tri suit.

I have never looked back. Triathlon stuck. I wish I had discovered the sport sooner, I love every day of training, every race - even when I feel awful, perform horribly, or crash. It is like night and day compared to my days on the U of A track team.

At the end of my first triathlon race season, in September of 2011, I found out I had qualified for 2012 Worlds in Auckland, New Zealand. In a single season I'd gone from a dejected runner with foot injuries who couldn't even make local travelling standards to a guy in a Team Canada race suit.

I was ecstatic, to say the least. And by ecstatic, I mean 'running-around-crazy-in-socks-on-a-hardwood-floor-and-having-my-feet-fly-out-from-under-me-almost-rendering-me-unconscious type' excited.

Worlds was the biggest highlight of my life (so far). Despite a debilitating crash that landed me in the back of an ambulance and out of the race, I had the time of my life, met new friends from many countries, and finally started to feel like some sort of athlete.

In February 2013, I had another major step in my adventure as a triathlete - I entered the Edmonton Triathlon Academy. So long to days of solo training and self-coaching! The last few months has been non-stop improvement and exhaustion.

Today, I am eagerly looking forward to my third triathlon race season (which includes my second go at Worlds in London in September), I train twice a day (roughly 4 hours) with the ETA, I live with two fantastic friends and triathlon team-mates in a bro-tastic living arragement complete with 11 bikes, I still enjoy camping and cooking, and I am a totally awkward goof.

I wouldn't trade my life for the world.

So, welcome to my blog and my life adventure. I'm impressed you read my lengthy introductory post in its entirety - you deserve a medal!

Cheers!

Bryan