Tweak the transitions, triathlete
Everyone thinks triathlon is a sport made of three sports: swimming, biking and running. But after my results were posted for the Nautica Malibu Triathlon held in September in Zuma Beach, I was rudely reminded that triathlon is actually four sports. ¶ “A seven-minute transition! Are you an idiot?” screamed half a dozen emails from friends. “What’d you do, fall asleep?”
The fourth sport is the transition, and there are two of them in a triathlon: T1, the manic swim-to-bike switch between wetsuit and cycling gear, and the easier T2, bike-to-run. My slowpoke T1 time was 7:05, double the average and five minutes more than the best.
I had one of the worst T1s of the 1,600 triathletes, and it cost me major bragging rights. My time for the half-mile swim, 18-mile bike ride and four-mile run was 2:01:03. Just over a minute faster in the transition and I could have had a subtwo-hour time. An average T1 time of 3½ minutes would have moved me from 549th place out of 1,059 men 437th — into the top 50% of the field.
I didn’t care — at first. Yes, I love the all-round fitness I get from doing a swim, bike or run nearly every day, but I only do a triathlon every few years. I love the pride in doing a hard thing and the tribal feeling of being with fit people, but not getting up at 4 a.m. to drive two hours to hop into a frigid ocean.
Then came the flood of emails lambasting my seven-minute transition.
One of my hard-core tri buddies reminded me that in 2016 I would be “aging up” into an easier, old-man age group. “You’ll be the youngest in your group,” he typed. “If you fix your transition, maybe you’ll get on the podium next year. At least a top 10.”
So I made a decision: Fix my transition, go back to Malibu next year and claim the glory that I cheated myself out of this year.
Copying the pros
Two weeks after the Malibu race, I flew to Hawaii to cover the 2015 Hawaii Ironman World Championship. What luck! On race day, I crowded as close as possible to watch the world’s best do their T1s. Emerging from the swim, the leaders ran into the shower area and — kept running. Not one stopped. By contrast, in Malibu I vigorously hosed off my face and chest and armpits as if I were prepping for a date.
T1 RULE NO. 1
Don’t shower. Estimated time saved: 10 seconds
Dashing to their gear, the Ironman leaders threw on helmets and sunglasses and ran the bikes out of the carpeted transition zone barefoot — with their shoes already attached to the pedals. Then they saddled up on the pavement and slipped into their shoes, cinching down a single Velcro strap while pedaling up to speed. By contrast, in Malibu I sat down, put socks on, put on my three-strap bike shoes and then tripped on the carpet while running out of the transition area.
T1 RULE NO. 2
Attach shoes to pedals beforehand. Estimated T1 time saved: 1 minute, 15 seconds
I made matters worse with five-toed socks. They stop blisters but take forever to put onto wet feet. Gloves are the same story. Triathletes don’t wear them; I did — at a price.
T1 RULE NO. 3
No socks and gloves. Estimated T1 time saved: 90 seconds
The pros don’t get lost in the transition zone; they’re all in the front rows. But disoriented by the swim, I missed my row and got lost among the thousand-plus bikes. According to Ian Castilla, 50, a bar
owner and rabid Ironman from the Philippines who was standing next to me watching the pros, the trick is to tie a balloon to your bike rack in the morning. “Make it bright red and you can’t miss it,” he said.
T1 RULE NO. 4
Mark your spot with a balloon. Estimated T1 time saved: 10 seconds
The pros save time in the transition and invest time in the future by guzzling an electrolyte/sodium-loaded drink before they touch their bikes. That’s because everyone unknowingly starts the ride a bit dehydrated from the swim. This benefits heavy sweaters on both the bike and the run. Since I drank only one bottle on the bike in Malibu, I started the run dehydrated. Did I run two or three minutes slower as a result?
T1 RULE NO. 5
Guzzle energy drink after the swim. Estimated time spent: 10 seconds; estimated future racing time saved: 2 to 5 minutes
The bottom line: Poor transition skills cost me at least 3:05 in T1 plus as much as a five-minute slowdown on the bike and run. That’s a total of eight minutes of free speed — bringing my potential 2016 Malibu time down to 1:53.
Give me two minutes more for swim lessons, and three minutes for a new $12,000 aero bike, and 15 seconds for not taking T1 selfies (I discovered two dozen of them on my cellphone), and I’m under 1:48, putting me at third place in my age group in 2016.
So see you in Malibu. I’ll be the fast guy out of T1.