#Dadblog: A Triathlon Comeback

Mike Caterini

Sorry to keep you hanging. I sustained an injury that left no permanent damage, but interrupted my triathlon training regimen for two months. Excuses aside, I’m now back in the swing of things, picking up where I left off. My end of summer targets have been replaced by end of November goals, which I’ll describe in the coming weeks. Now where were we?

Last time I wrote, I had finished the first transition strong at the Gravenhurst Sprint Triathlon. It followed a disappointing swim, where I ended up swimming a 50% longer distance than expected due to my poor navigation skills. However in spite of the extra effort, I still felt surprisingly fresh. I exited the first transition in 2:41, which was much better than the 4:00 recorded in my previous triathlon at Guelph Lake. This was very encouraging and provided me with the incentive to make up for my poor swim with a good bike leg.

The bike route zig-zags up hill through Gravenhurst streets for the first km, then follows a scenic, winding and hilly road along Lake Muskoka. The turnaround is at 10 km where we re-trace our route back to the start line. We were informed that a big bike crash occurred in town yesterday on the return portion of the Olympic Triathlon (40 km bike) and were reminded to ride carefully and always announce that you are passing before passing on the left only. Sound advice whenever you are riding, but especially important in a race where the cyclists have varying degrees of ability, may be somewhat competitive and take risks.

I made it through town with no issues and passed a couple dozen bikes before rounding the half-way turn, while only having been passed by a handful of cyclists. I was cycling with an average speed of about 30 kph and had no issues with fatigue or traffic. On a moderate downhill dip in the road, I passed a couple cyclists on the left at about 37 kph, when out of the corner of my eye I spotted another cyclist trying to pass me on the right! WITHOUT ANNOUNCING THAT HE WAS PASSING ME ON THE RIGHT, HE THEN CUT ME OFF! I couldn’t swerve out of the way or brake fast enough.

My front wheel touched his back wheel and my bike started to wobble. I couldn’t recover control and was going to crash. Would I crash on the hard pavement and take out the few cyclists behind me or head straight into the 3 foot deep ditch between the road and the forest to my right? That was the question I asked myself just before a green blur passed by as I slid on my left side into the ditch. Looking up at the road, I felt pain in my left collarbone and ribs.

However I was able to stand up on my own and my bike didn’t look too damaged. Brushing off the dirt, twigs and grass, I looked up and saw who I thought was the guy who had cut my off. “Hey”, I scowled. “Why did you cut me off?” “It wasn’t me, it was another guy, but I got his bib number so that you can report him.” He answered back. “Man, you crashed fast and hard. I didn’t think you’d ever get up from that. You OK?” “Well I guess I was very lucky”, I muttered as I crawled out of the ditch. “I lost my water bottles, my right shifter was bent and the chain has to be put back on the ring. I have a sore left side at the spot where I landed, but my legs are fine and the bike is rideable. I’ll try to finish the race. Thanks and see you at the finish line”.

Related Article: Crunch Time!

I got back in the saddle, and started on the 8 km ride to the finish. I didn’t feel too bad, so I must’ve been in shock. As I passed a lady I heard her shout “Aren’t you the guy who I saw crawling out of the ditch just a while back?” “Yes that was me” as I proceeded to explain what had happened. In a sympathetic tone she added “That’s too bad. You were really good about announcing your passing on the left and giving a wide berth.

I hope they get the guy who did this to you.” Well I know my situation sucks, but I was focused on finishing the race first and letting the Race Marshalls deal with the idiot. I limped over the finish line, stopped and reported the incident to the race volunteer there. He advised me to officially report the incident to the Race Marshalls, but that had to wait. I was wasting valuable time and still had a 5 km run to finish. My 20 km bike time of 46:06 when compared to the 19 km time of 44:00 in my previous race was fantastic considering the circumstances. I got through the second transition in 1:39, far better than my previous 3:02. I was off to the races!

My legs felt heavy, but were moving and I didn’t feel exhausted. However I was experiencing a sharp pain in my left side, had a decent road rash, and my shirt was a canvas of blood, dirt and grass. Sort of a forest triathlon camouflage look. But I felt that I could gut this out and finish the race. As we passed one another, several runners asked if I had crashed. I patiently explained the situation to them and their emotions ranged from sympathy to outrage and revenge.

I couldn’t be bothered with vengeance and just wanted to finish the run, have a few beers and soak in a hot tub. The end must be near? Finally one km left. I better pick it up. A volunteer yelled “500 meters to go. You’re almost there!” I kicked it into a higher gear and the volunteer responded with “look at you go!” My 400 m fast interval training repeats were paying off as I passed a couple runners heading to the finish line. I crossed the finish line in 34:05 (vs. 34:35 last time), grabbed a water bottle and went straight to the first aid station.

I told the first aid workers what had happened. They promptly examined me for cuts and bruises and thoroughly checked me out for a concussion, even though I did not land on my head. They treated my road rash and advised me to see my doctor the next day. I left the first aid tent and headed to the bike repair trailer with a great sense of relief knowing that it could’ve been much worse. My bike sustained no permanent damage, but required a major tuneup. I reported the incident to the race Marshall along with the offender’s bib number. An announcement was made for the offender to report to the officiating tent, but he had flown the coup, never to be seen or heard from again.

Related Article: #Dadblog: Becoming A Triathlete

Despite the adversity, my overall time of 1:48:21 was surprisingly within one minute of the 1:47:42 of my last race. I did not give up and finished strong. I had expected a better time but I’ll live with these results. The crash probably cost me about 10 minutes. Most of us will never win a race, but if we show tenacity, toughness and determination we will have the satisfaction of knowing that we left nothing on the table and finished. Tomorrow I’ll meet with the doctor. I’ll inform you of the results and their consequences in my next #dadblog.

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