My race review of the San Jose International Triathlon, produced by J&A Productions, as well as notes on my personal performance at this event… (Note: grades are for event production.)
Click here to view my photo album from the SJIT.
Pre-race communication: B-
J&A Productions has a pretty slick website and I chuckled more than a few times at some of the humorous and helpful FAQs. (Example: Q: My personal swimming coach from East Germany likes to train with swim fins and a snorkel. Can I use these aids during the race? A: Sorry, no flotation devices or aids can be used in the swim – just a wetsuit and goggles. You may use fins and snorkel during the bike and run if you like.)
But the only thing I received from J&A Productions after registering online for SJIT and before race day was a leaflet I almost confused for a piece of junk mail and nearly threw away before noticing on the front lettering that read “Confirmation Letter.” It arrived during the week leading up to SJIT and, being printed on red paper with smeared black ink and hastily stapled together by a high school kid working the midnight shift at Kinkos, looked like something an elementary school would send to the households in its neighboring community asking for their support during the annual car wash fundraiser. All the “who, what, where, when, why, how” questions were answered, however. And while I would have liked to have received email announcements and reminders in the weeks leading up to SJIT to excite and tease us with the awesomeness that the race promised to deliver, I would later come to appreciate the “no extraneous frills” production of the event.
Pre-race site atmosphere: B
Lauren and I drove to Lake Almaden yesterday (Saturday) to pick-up our race packets, to check out the course, and to partake in the SJIT sports expo. One of my favorite aspects of race weekends are the expos – one can score sweet discounts on apparel, demo new equipment, grab handfuls of samples of nutrition products, and simply meander with other triathletes in an outdoor marketplace that is designed just for us, with surf music piping through the PA system to calm any last-minute jitters and tantalizing smells of teriyaki chicken and tofu kabobs wafting through the air. And with something as official-sounding as the “J&A Productions Silicon Valley Sports Expo”, I expected to have to snake my way through the throngs of people that were sure to descend onto Lake Almaden Park on this Saturday in search of the latest and greatest triathlon gear.
But instead…
What if one organized a sports expo centered in the heart of the third largest city in California and no one came? This is what I wondered as I browsed the merchandise and products of the four vendors that managed to set-up a display table — Amino Vital, Zoot Sports, a husband and wife selling race belts and hats that said “Run Like a Dog” or “Doggy Sports” or something, and an empty booth with a television monitor showing a looped cut of a “Swim Like a Pro” video collection for sale. Where was everyone? Where was the pre-race buzz that usually hums through the air of an excited and nervous crowd of athletes and spectators? There were more local kids with their parents frolicking in the water than there were athletes swimming in the lake or jogging the run course or picking up their race packets. Lauren did buy a sexy tri short and tri top combo from the Zoot Sports table that was marked 20% off, but after strolling the near-empty grounds for half-an-hour and surveying the transition area, we shrugged our shoulders and figured it was time to make our way back home for our traditional dinner of Round Table Pizza before retiring to bed by 9:30 p.m.
(To clarify, J&A Productions did a fantastic job with logistics on Saturday. Everything was extremely well-organized; it is simply that there were far fewer vendors and people in attendance at the expo than I expected. The volunteers that worked the race packet pick-up station were efficient and very friendly. Further, the entire site was laid out well, clearly marked, and the grounds were immaculately clean. )
Day of event organization and logistics: A
Lauren and I arrive at Lake Almaden at 5:30 a.m. and park at the Santa Clara Valley Water District. The volunteer attendants did a fantastic job of keeping traffic flowing and of directing us to the empty parking spots. The actual race-site is less than a quarter-mile down the road from where we park.
We file into the park and quickly find two empty bike racks next to each other. We unload our bags and lay out our equipment before hitting up the port-a-potties (plenty of which there are) and then make our way to the body marking station. We track down our parents, my brother, and Lauren’s sister, pose for some pictures, stretch out, and chat with other participants while waiting to start the swim.
One thing that does need to be improved for next year, however, has to do with the transition area. Out of the thirty or forty or fifty bike racks intended for the 1,600 athletes to lay their gear around, a vast majority have signs that say they are reserved for triathlon clubs. This leads to a shortage, then, of racks available for use by those of us who are not pro/elite racers, who are not representing our college triathlon team, and who are not affiliated with a local triathlon club. Some athletes that arrive around 6:00 a.m. are unable to find an empty spot on a rack and lay their gear off on the side or rest their bikes against trees or posts. Around 6:15 a.m. the organizers finally recognize what is going on an announce that any and all empty bike stalls on racks labeled as being reserved for triathlon clubs are now “up for grabs”. It looks like everyone is able to finally set-up in the transition area, but next year there should be more “open” bike racks for us to use.
Swim course: A
For a 7:00 a.m. start, the weather is surprisingly comfortable (between 60 and 65 degrees). And for a race as large as the SJIT – boasting nearly 2,000 athletes and drawing over 3,000 spectators – the pre-race anxiety that often fills me with an anxious eagerness and nervousness is absent. Rather, I – and nearly everyone around me, it seems – is loose, relaxed, smiling, waving to friends and family who have come to cheer them on, talking with each other, pointing to the buoys in the lake to figure where to swim, and laughing at the jokes announcers Brad and Jim are cracking over the PA system, all of which helps to make for a wonderfully collegial atmosphere.
For in the place of a British announcer droning on about the average weekly training mileage of the typical Ironman athlete (and therefore causing last-minute freak-out sessions by those triathletes who had not logged such distances in preparation for the race), Brad and Jim instead remind us: “Do not try to save a minute in the transition area by wearing your wetsuit on your bike ride”, as well as to “Vote for the worst dressed athlete today – we have a special makeover package we’ll be handing out at the awards ceremony!” Perhaps because of their laid-back attitude, I transition from “racer” mode to “participant” mode. Without the burden of any stress or tension, Lauren and I have smiles on our faces and exchange one last kiss for good luck.
The official start is about ten yards from the shore – a deep water start. A few minutes after seven – POW! – the gunshot signals the start of the 2005 San Jose International Triathlon. And within a blink of an eye, the still waters of tiny Lake Almaden are stirred with the first wave of Collegiate Championship/Elite triathletes gliding towards first buoy on the other side of the lake. I am in the second wave, for men under the age of 29, and four minutes later, another POW! I slowly count to five to let all the fast swimmers duke it out in the mad dash for positioning before charging and diving into the water myself.
The swim itself is very nice. The water is clean – no algae present or three-eyed fishes flipping by – but with a surface temperature of 69 degrees, is almost too warm for a long-sleeved wet-suit. (I would recommend wearing a sleeveless wetsuit for the swim in Lake Almaden, if possible.) The course is well marked with large red buoys and lifeguards on paddle boards pointing people in the right direction, though I do find myself drifting off course a few times and needing to slowly zigzag my way back on track. The waves are very well staggered – I never feel like I am being swum over, nor do I have many bump-ins with other swimmers – and the organizers do a great job of getting a 1250 meter swim course out of a very small lake. And needing only 27 minutes and 16 seconds to swim the perimeter of Lake Almaden (I say “only” as my goal for the swim in any triathlon — sprint distance to Iroman — is to simply survive and beat the cut-off time), I finally touch terra firma. I spot my family right at the swim exit and flash a quick “I survived the swim!” smile to my parents and to my brother, Jeff. I stumble trying to strip out of my wetsuit but quickly regain my balance and run barefoot (or trot, rather, at least until I soon find my “land legs”) through the long transition area to my bike.
T1
It is a long run from the lake to rack number 19 where I set up my transition area, but there is plenty of room to throw my wetsuit down and twist into my racing jersey. I take a couple quick bites of a Clif Bar and a few swigs of juice. I wipe by sandy feet on the towel I had laid next to my Cervelo and slide my bike shoes on. Helmet: on and strapped. Sun-glasses: check. I take another quick bite of my Clif Bar and then I am off and running to the bike exit. I drop two packets of PowerGel and quickly think of turning back to pick them up before deciding to forget about them. Somehow, dad had made it up to the transition area as fast as I had and offered a “Looking good, J.R.! The hard part’s over – go get ‘em on the bike.”
Bike course: A
The bike course was advertised as being extremely flat and fast and I expect to make up for my mediocre swimming skills with a strong ride. Two quick power tens – where I sprint as hard as I can for ten seconds – within the first minute get me out of parking lot and onto the road. Having already picked a few people off, I settle into my saddle and into a comfortable rhythm. The only problem is, I remember that the website for SJIT advertised that the average course speed for males in 2000 was 21 mph; females averaged 17-20 mph in the 2000 race. So why am I going only 17 mph, especially since I feel like I am really hammering it? Is my cyclometer not properly calibrated? Do I have a flat? Are my brake pads rubbing my tire?
I come up on a fellow athlete who looks like he is a strong rider and we play cat and mouse for a while before deciding a breakaway is futile. We ride next to each other for a mile or so. He turns to me. “Some killer head wind, huh?” Headwind! Of course! “Yeah, this is brutal.” We go back into our zone, head down and charging forth, both relieved that the other is working hard to keep this 18 mph pace.
A few more miles up the road I come up on another group of cyclist-first triathletes. “I thought this was supposed to be a fast course,” one says. He then actually gets out of the saddle and stands on his pedals trying to power through the headwind. I myself am riding in my small front cog. “At least we’ll fly on the way back,” I offer.
And sure enough, roughly eight miles into the ride, I come to the turnaround. And as soon as I make my u-turn, I crank up the tension, rest on my aerobars, and vroom! – off I go. With very little effort, I fly by about a dozen riders and am cruising, simply cruising, at 32 mph. Unfortunately, I only enjoy the tailwind for two miles, for once I turn left onto Bailey Avenue, I am brought back to a cruising speed in the low twenties.
Pretty soon I arrive at the bottom of the one steep climb on this bike course. I have always considered myself a decent climber and decide that this is another opportunity to make up some lost ground. I attack the hill and feel comfortable throughout. Picking-off another dozen riders fuels me forward.
For the last half of the race I ride pretty much alone. It is one of those perfect Sunday mornings in northern California, and most of the 80-plus San Jose police officers directing traffic to give us open roads to ride upon all offer a wave or a tip of the hat as I pedal by. I feel good. The roads are all paved smooth and I start thinking about how much more beautiful it is to experience life when riding on a bike than when viewing life while riding in a car. For when in a car, my perception of what is outside is framed by the window I am looking at everything through. On a bike I feel every small pebble in the road, I moo at cows when I ride by them, I feel the wind at my back, I squint in the sun. It is nice to be out.
Just shy of seventy minutes from when I started the 40k bike ride, I arrive back in the parking lot of Lake Almaden Park. While coasting to the dismount line, I free my feet from my Sidi T1 shoes still clipped into my pedals and jump to the side of my bike ready to enter T2.
T2
Another long transition. I run barefoot by all of the racks for the elite athletes, college teams, and tri clubs before finally spotting my personal transition area. I rack my bike, chomp my way through the last fourth of the Clif Bar I started in T1, slip my socks and new Nike Zoom Milers on my feet, tighten the laces, exchange my helmet for my hat, and shake my legs loose before exiting T2 to tackle the 10k looped trail run. As always, mom, dad, and Jeff are cheering me on. Their new favorite chant: “Run with it, J.R.! Run with it!” Seeing them so excited for me never fails to put a smile on my face and allows me to find an extra quick step in my stride. I manage a huffed, “Hi. ‘Feel good. Thanks,” as I leave the transition area one last time.
Run course: A
The run course, like the bike course, was advertised as flat and fast, and protected by the trees that line the perimeter of this very pretty community park, there is no headwind to slow us down.
Do my legs feel fresh! Maybe it is the psychology of having a new pair of running shoes, or of the confidence that comes from already having completed an Olympic-distance triathlon, but all I know is that contrary to how I felt at Wildflower (tight calves, legs heavy, like I was trudging through quick sand), today I feel springy – like when I used to run along the beach and on the Old Course in Saint Andrews (where I studied abroad two years previous) and imagined I was Eric Liddell. I can almost hear Vangelis’ “Themes” in the background.
All such day dreams are quickly shattered when just a few minutes into my run I see a race volunteer on a Moped driving towards me. He is honking at the spectators to clear the way for the first place runner who, right behind him, is coming into the home stretch. It has got be quite a thrill to have a motorcade – or even a college kid riding on an electric bike – leading you to the finish line of a race and announcing to everybody that you are number one. That guy has to feel like he is Lance Armstrong sprinting up L’Alpe d’Huez during the 16th stage time trial at last year’s Tour de France when a police motorcade was needed to clear a path through a mass of one million people cheering their favorite Tour rider forward.
That is one of the great things about this run course – the loop is designed so that every runner can see each other. There are a couple of areas where we “double-back” on the fire trails and are able to offer a thumb’s up or exchange a high-five with friends ahead or behind us. Never, though, does the run get boring.
Just a minute or so after having the first place runner zoom by me I come across a sign that reads “Mile 1.” I feel great and quickly look at my watch to see how long ago I left the transition area – around six minutes. After what feels only like the passing of another few I see sign number two. Again, around six minutes.
At each of the three aid stations I grab a cup of water to pour on my head or down my jersey; the cups of Amino Vital I take a swig or two from before tossing to the side. The sun is hot now, and not wanting to boil and bonk like I did at Wildflower, I reel myself in just a bit and drop to a pace around 6:45 for the middle few miles – still fast enough to chase a few people down.
Five miles run. One and two-tenths more to go.
I can see the giant inflatable J&A Productions arch and finish chute across the lake, the lake that an hour earlier I was swimming across. I make a conscious effort to get on my toes, see two athletes within striking distance – one wearing a Cal Poly jersey, another wearing a matching Orca tri suit – and sprint by them. Just a few hundred yards from the finish line I can see the giant clock ticking the seconds away, only a few of which I will need to cross under. Somehow, out of all the people that are cheering us on, I always hear my mom, dad, and my brother yelling for me. With a smile on my face, I imagine I am running the 100 meter dash. (I love it when people give an all-out, last-ditch, pure guts effort at the finish, even if they are not competing for a podium position. I remember in high school my dad telling me to always finish hard, no matter my place or the race, and so I do.)
And just like that I am being helped steady and upright by two volunteers, one who drapes a wet and cool towel over my shoulders, and the other who takes the ChampionChip timing anklet off of my ankle. Dad takes some pictures. Mom gives me a hug. Jeff gives me a high-five.
Ah… nothing quite like the finish line.
Post-race and swag: A+
In our race packets we were given a SJIT water bottle and a very well- and cool-designed SJIT t-shirt. (Most race shirts, after getting the obligatory wear the day after an event, are often stored away forever in a big box in my closet, usually because they are too ugly to even wear to the gym, but hold too much sentimental value to be employed as rags.)
What really sets the SJIT apart from any other event I have done, however, is the absolutely awesome (and free) smorgasbord of food and fuel at the finish line: organic grapes, cherries, dried figs, apples, oranges, bananas, and raisins; hot and fresh pizza of every topping combination, ranging from plain cheese and the traditional pepperoni and combo, to the more exotic pineapple and ham variety; wonderfully chewy bagels and a Baskin Robbins 31 Flavors-like spread of cream cheese and shmear; ice-cold Sierra Nevada beer – on tap, no less; and mountain-tall heaps of fried noodles and chow mein.
As I sit on the white sand of the shore of Lake Almaden, scarfing my second plate of food, I think about how true it is what J&A Productions says about this event: come for the race; stay for the party.
Value and Overall Grade: A
J&A Productions organized, simply, a truly wonderful event. Everything was professional, but the attitude was pure age-grouper. The focus was not on prize purses, the pros, and PRs (though I did set one), but rather about the true essence of the sport – fitness, friends and family, and fun. And when the trend in triathlon seems to be on commercializing the sport and participants are faced with ever-increasing entry fees (Wildflower cost more than $200 to enter, not including the $80 camping fee), I can think of no better way to spend $100 and a Sunday morning in June than competing in the San Jose International Triathlon.
Oh, and for those who may be curious, there were plenty of vendors at the expo after the race on Sunday.
Click here to view my photo album from the SJIT.
Run With It!
J.R. Atwood
