Tag: Andrew Starykowicz

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Rev3 Knoxville – Pro Triathlete Transitions

LAND SHARKS

I was nibbling on a Fig Newton and contemplating arm warmers when a blaze of fire erupted from the Tennessee River and raced into the Rev3 transition.  The first group of men, ejected from a hurricane . . . all hunting for blood.  Ladies and gentlemen, meet professional triathletes.image_4Cameron Dye was the only familiar face, but like a school of sharks, they were close enough to be considered one.  Literally on each others heels as they tore across the asphalt in bare feet.

Cam turned down the wrong bike aisle and had to backtrack, which probably cost a grand total of 7 seconds . . . but for these guys, that sliver of time can be the difference.  They all landed in the row right next to me and it was an incomprehensible flurry of action.image_6I leaned on the fence and watched as these cats spent about 10 seconds stripping their wetsuit and ripping their bike from the rack.  And just like that . . . they were gone.

Their transition times were around a minute and a half, but most of that was running in and out.  The time they actually spent at their bike was minimal.  Maybe 20 seconds.

Talk about getting your blood pumping.  Bike shoes are on the pedals and the thought of socks, gloves (or arm warmers) didn’t cross their minds.  Bare is the game and animal is the lifestyle.

I can’t even comprehend the pressure of racing at that level.  A group of 5 or 6 guys ran their bikes out together, all ready to pounce on weakness.  Hell, I get cold sweats and fight dry heaves if I even SEE a guy with my age group number on his calf.  These guys live in that world . . . and it’s no place for bait.image_7

QUICK THOUGHT ON TRANSITIONS

When I first got into triathlon I was digging for information on everything and one time went to a “Transition Clinic” that included how to lay out all your crap on a towel.  But after watching a Pro Transition, I think I could give my own clinic and it would go something like this:

1.  Run as fast as you can from the water to your bike.
2.  Rip off the rest of your wetsuit
3.  Put on your helmet.
4.  Grab your bike
5.  Get your ass on the course

CAMERON DYE

I raced in Knoxville last year when Cam Dye absolutely destroyed the course in miserable conditions.  His swim was 14:55 and he averaged 28 mph on the bike en route to a convincing 1:47:53 victory in the Olympic .

Over the course of the year, my buddies and I joked about me going back to Rev3 to get revenge on Dye.  All I had to do was figure out how to cut 53 minutes off my time.  As it turned out, he raced the mid-range distance this year, so the Rumble in Knoxville never happened, but we did have a marginally intense discussion about Twitter after the race.mikecamknox@miketarrolly   @camdyetri

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My Ironman Kona Race Report

This past Saturday, I sat in a hotel room in Huntsville, Alabama and watched the live stream of Kona on my computer, and let me tell you, it felt like I was there!

Well, not really.  But it did get me pumped for the Goosepond 1/2 triathlon I was doing Sunday.

Didn’t really do that either, but it was kinda cool being in Rocket City.  Umm . . .

Yeah, so, it was me, Robbie, Corey and Wasky in two hotel rooms running back and forth with the latest gossip on the pros at Kona  all while throwing in a bit of Gordon Ramsay and Hines Ward snark for good measure.*

“Holy crap, Starykowicz is on pace to break the bike course record.”

“He’s the dude that beat us in Muncie.”

“He’ll never hold it.”

“Hines would crush you, Wasky”

“Whatever.”

“Where’s Kienle?”

“He’s around.”

I kept throwing out Ben Hoffman splits, but nobody seemed to care.  They’ll learn.

“Is that Chris McDonald commentating?”

“Yeah… he tweeted with me the other day about Spyoptic.”

Freshmen gushing at the varsity.
——————-
Robbie was basking in the sore-arm-glow of “Swimming the Suck” earlier that day.  Ten miles of open water on 5 Days notice.

Me, Corey, and Wasky were digging for energy and motivation to race Goosepond the next day.

“What’s the run course like?”

“I’m telling you, it’s PANCAKE FLAT!”

“You sure?”

“Book it.”

“I haven’t done shit since Wisconsin.”

“Join the club, brotha.”

I was NOT ready for a half triathlon but suspected Wasky and Corey, who did Louisville, were in better form.
———————-
We lounged with our laptops and watched as Frederik Van Lierde blew through the tape in 8:12:28 for his first Ironman World Championship.  That’s close to 4 hours faster than I did Wisconsin and damn near as fast as I’d do Goosepond the next day.

Well, sort of.  I did 5:35 ish.

Van Lierde’s bike was 4:25 for 112 miles.  My bike split at Goosepond was 2:36 (actually 2:40 because I got a 4:00 penalty, which I’m still steaming about . . . not really, but you can read about it here).  That 2:36 was about all I had and it felt like I was re-writing the record books.  IF I could have done that for another 56 miles (which is more than highly doubtful) I would have dismounted after 5:12, a pretty f-ing amazing time, but dude rocked a 4:25 in the crosswinds before running at 2:51 marathon?  Who are these freaks?

Then, there’s Mirinda Carfrae, who got off the bike around 10 minutes back and casually threw down a 2:50 marathon?  I’m sitting there on that comfortable ass bed in Huntsville, Alabama watching her float on air at mile 25 thinking . . . that’s the babe that tweeted at me about Brittany Spears tickets a few weeks ago.  Small damn world.

Then we gathered the backpacks and went into Goosepond for our ass-kicking.

CMWkona*  Just getting into the race is an accomplishment. Each year, more than 80,000 athletes vie for a shot to be on the starting line, but only 1,900 men and women make it.  (Source, and crappy article by the LA Times about Ramsay’s Ironman that anyone in the world with a computer could have written)