RACE REPORT: 2022 Bengal Triathlon, or “Once a Triathlete”
Welcome to another one of my race reports. A race goes beyond what the results say, and I want to share with you, usually with too much detail, the ins and outs of my race and what I thought about it. Along with telling you how my race went, I also discuss what my training was like up to that point, and my overall thoughts on my performance. Enjoy!
I write these reports because I feel like there is a story that needs to be told behind each finishing time. For this one, I feel the need to explain myself. I spent years always gearing up for races and competing and then suddenly, I just didn’t. And then like Steve from Blue’s Clues, just kinda randomly returned for a race.
Do I actually have to explain myself? Probably not, nobody actually may care for an explanation. Will I? I guess if it’s going to make me feel better. If it’s not going to be for others, then maybe it’s for myself, to help me free myself and move on. In writing it, maybe it will help others in their own journeys of trying to find their passion or redefining it.
So yeah, this is for me. It is also for anyone who has fallen out of their passion and/or has a desire to try other ventures.
TL;DR
- Race: Bengal Triathlon (700 yard swim, 13 mile bike, 3.1 mile run)
- Location: Pocatello, ID
- Course description: Pool swim, bike and run courses had some elevation to them
- Result: 1:09:05 (10:25/0:31/35:39/1:00/21:32)
Storytime!:
Before:
The last time I seriously trained for a triathlon was in spring 2018, building up towards the Couer d’Alene 70.3 and ITU Aquathlon World Championships. The overload of workouts was stressing me out. Missing workouts, even the easiest of runs, was stressing me out. I had some pretty horrid workouts in the middle of all this too. This caused me to skip workouts due the anxiety of me not hitting my times. All these elements compounded into a perfect storm of suck. My livelihood just wasn’t fun anymore. I realized I couldn’t live like this anymore.
What the hell am I doing with my life? I was 26 at the time, watching life begin to move past me as my current routine began to feel stale and unfulfilling.
Long story short, I haven’t really trained for any races since it fell apart in 2018. Prior to that, I was always training for something. From junior high track all the way up to where it all fell apart, there was always a purpose to my training: some race or big event I was focusing on. When it fell apart I had an identity crisis. On top of the physical drain, I was mentally drained, unsure where to turn.
It fell apart? you ask. Well I burned myself out of competing in running and triathlon races. Like, when you eat, sleep, breathe endurance sports with few breaks on top of college or having a full time job, for like 7–12 years, depending on where you define the beginning of the journey, and you don’t really manage the load of everything, inevitably it is supposed to fall apart.
And after a decade of the same ole routine of over-exerting myself, it finally happened, and objectively it’s one of those times I look back on and ask myself, “How could I do all of that? Was I crazy?” The answer: maybe? Was I motivated? Yes. A little unguided? Pretty likely. Looking back at that time, there were a few details I consider noteworthy:
Load management: nonexistent.
Mental health coping strategies: I’ll run off all my problems.
Sleep: when I’m dead.
This overload of work cascaded into a massive burnout that made me realize that my current regiment was being held together by duct tape. I probably had gained a year of training due to all the outside grief associated with my father’s death I was experiencing at the time that motivated me to keep going, but it only delayed the inevitable. I was spit out of the circuit, broken and unsure where to turn next.
I started exploring other ventures that I had begun to gain passion for. I began to embrace climbing, mountaineering, and skiing more. I successfully summitted the tops of Mt. Rainier, Grand Teton, Gannett Peak, Kilimanjaro, among others. I learned the ways of backcountry skiing, multipitch climbing, and ice climbing. I realized that my brain excessively worries more than the average human and that I needed to actually address my mental health issues that had plagued me for so many years. I continued to run, but in a less competitive sense, motivated by the idea of completing trail circuits in an effort to see cool terrain and to exercise my dog.
Even then, there was a bit of a longing to come back to triathlon. Maybe not in the sense of where I was before, but to experience the sensation of multi-sport again. In fact I had signed up for Spudman in 2020 before covid took it down. But even during that time I found it difficult to hop on the bike again, or to dive into a pool again. So much emotion was built into this sport that it was hard to come back to. The idea of hopping back into a triathlon was there, but the execution was not.
The fact of the matter was the emotion that surrounded it. Competing in these events were what helped me manage high stress in college, multiple breakups, and other life stressors, not to mention the untimely death of my father. However it built up to a point where triathlon stopped being a stop-gap and instead added to my stressors. While I had desire to start again, I had some built-up trauma of the training schedule ruling my life. I could not guarantee the commitment to one. Shoot, I had emotional issues surrounding hopping on my bike trainer or heading to the pool. Even returning to a semblance of what my training used to be would require me to face past-me, and all of the untreated trauma and anxiety that came with it.
While triathlon represented my best years of athletic performance, it also represented a period of time I overloaded myself and used it as a mental distraction from the problems that were actually going on. The thought of returning to the sport meant returning to that. The way I comprehended it, I couldn’t have one without the other.
Additionally: all my life I was taught that if you work hard, then the benefits will come. I used endurance sports as a way to express that principle. If I wasn’t working my ass off, then am I still worthy to compete? I wanted to compete, but I wasn’t putting in what I felt like was the necessary work. Past-me put in the work and it nearly destroyed me. Now present me is looking to come back, despite not being on any sort of a training plan.
2020 turned my exercise regiment into something that I would describe as in between “non-existent” and “sporadic”. I came to realize that being active was what refilled my batteries, and when 2021 hit, I began trying to find consistency again. I told myself that as long as I could find some consistency with swimming, biking, and running, I could find myself back on the triathlon starting line. I was committed to that, to punt this monkey off my back, come hell or high water.
The Bengal Tri didn’t really cross my mind as a possibility until talking about it with my friend Paul Scott, who was planning to do it. “I haven’t been swimming,” was my excuse (the aquatic center had been closed due to maintenance). “Yeah well neither have I,” said Paul. He was right; why did I feel pressure to present my best self for a race when I already said that that was not a requirement? After weeks of deliberating with myself and checking the weather forecast on race day, I signed up. I had been consistent enough with running and biking on my trainer throughout the winter, so I knew I could will myself through it.
The next day I pulled my calf on a run. This was the Wednesday before the race. I had the perfect excuse to pull out! I couldn’t get myself to though, the burning desire to throw myself out there again was too high, and as a result I found myself on the start line that Saturday, bum calf and all, ready to get hurt again.
During:
So the way the Bengal Tri works is this: there’s a pool swim held a day or two before the bike-run legs in Poky. Why? Because it is springtime in Idaho and open water swimming is kind or out of the question. Anyway, I signed up for the swim at a pool in Idaho Falls the day before the race. They mentioned in the email that the swim would take place in the outdoor pool, rain or shine. I hope it was heated.
I woke up to rain. I was considering just bagging the whole thing and using my calf injury as the excuse (which by the way, perfectly valid excuse). However the morning was spent reading about SEAL boot camp and I was just like, “If these guys can survive this, I can handle an outdoor rainy pool swim.”
The swim was being held at the Apple Athletic Club, Idaho Falls’ finest uppity gym that I think requires botox to gain a membership. I was kind of hoping the whole “rain or shine” thing was an exaggeration and the swim would ultimately be moved to the indoor pool, but nope. Still outside.
Looking outside, the water was steaming, which meant that it was warmer than the air (although 37 degree air temperature is not hard to beat). I walked outside from the vestibule to find that it was in fact quite chilly outside, and the water I jumped into wasn’t much better. Just finish this shit and get out to warmth.
I did a couple warm-up laps as the timers were getting ready. Cool, I still know how to swim. Once back, I took off. I felt strong, but then again, this was the very beginning of a swim, we always feel strong. I needed to be careful not to bust out a 1:20 first hundred because that would mean sabotage for the rest of my swim. I was focusing mostly on strong pulls. However I did have a mental lapse at the 200 mark. 200, that all I’ve gone so far?
I finished with a 10:45, not too bad considering that I hadn’t been in the pool since October. Paul Scott, who swam before me and recorded a 10:16, told me “you’d be faster if you did flip-turns like me.” Here’s the thing: triathletes normally swim in lakes and rivers and natural bodies of water where flip turns are not necessary and generally just use pools as training grounds. Triathletes don’t need to know how to do flip turns. Plus it gives us an extra breath at the end of each length!
The one thing I did notice regarding my performance was that I was not able to get myself to redline, a term here which means feel like you’re working 100% to the point of exhaustion. I felt like I had hit about 85–90% but could not push any higher than that. Maybe that is just due to the fact that I wasn’t swimming. Who knows.
The bike and run were to occur the next day down at Idaho State in Poky.
Back to my over-dramatic “am I worthy” musing: which bike do I ride and helmet do I wear? I didn’t want to be “that guy” with all this nice gear in the middle of the pack. Looking at the weather it was going to be a little breezy, so I opted for my tri-bike because it has aerobars, which would be nice to have in the wind. I left the aero-helmet at home though. I would gain, what, a couple seconds?
I arrived at Poky an hour before the race to ensure that I had time for packet pickup, transition setup, and a proper warmup. It was about 38 degrees and I had really wished that I had worn more layers. I spent most of the time indoors, looking at the start list to see how many people I knew that were here (a handful). After warming up, I felt better about the crisp temperature, although my calf was beginning to give me fits. Let’s see how long I last.
I met up with Paul and his son Tyler at the pre-race briefing. Smitty, the race director, mentioned something about a doggie 5k happening on the bike course and to be aware of people on the road. She also mentioned that it may be over so we were probably okay. Also there was a volunteer named JJ on Jason Street that we needed to say hi to. I thought it would’ve been ironic if his name was Jason. Anyway that’s all I remembered from the brief as we were sent on our way.
They started us in a rolling wave instead of a mass start. The way it worked was that at 9:30, a clock that displayed the fastest swim time would begin. When your swim time come up, that is when you run into transition to grab your bike. My cue came as the clock reached 10:45. Due to the wet grass and my undesire to run in my bike shoes, I ran barefoot down the hill into transition. I grabbed my bike and I was on my way.
This was the first time I had been biking on the road in a while, and certainly the first time on my tri-bike since my last triathlon. Tri-bikes are a little more unstable than regular road bikes are, so I felt a bit like a newborn giraffe trying to walk as I started up, placing my feet into my shoes, and beginning to gain a bit of a rhythm. Once I did, it was smooth sailing.
Aero position felt natural and my power output felt steady as I began picking off a few of the faster swimmers. I didn’t want to redline this early obviously, but my calf wasn’t flaring at all, so might as well take advantage of this portion in the case where my body could reject my plea for it to run later.
As we were going, we began to run into the doggie 5k that they warned us about. It was actually more dense than I had anticipated. At one point there was a group of people who were taking up the entire lane! Now listen, I love dogs, generally hate people, and especially hate people who are inconsiderate of their surroundings, whether or not they have their dog with them. Anyway despite me shouting “on your left!” a bunch, they didn’t budge. They were probably too busy talking about how much better Pocatello was than Idaho Falls. This bumped me into the other lane (thankfully no cars were approaching) and continued on my merry way.
“That was dumb,” I told Paul as I passed him shortly after the incident.
This brought me to the first hill. Honestly, not much of a hill, just an incline, but enough to adjust my gears. I hadn’t done any significant climbing in a while. There was a turn at the crest, and then back to a downhill. The next turn brought us to the road that lead down to Century High School, out turnaround point.
It was silent at this point. All I heard was my breath and the bike spinning along smoothly. It was truly a zen moment.
Counting the bikes coming back the other way, I gauged that I was about 15th or so at this point. I had been leapfrogging a guy riding a steel-frame bike over the last couple miles. At the turnaround point he got me again, as well as a woman triathlete.
Oh right, and the wind blowing from the north was coming right at us too, that’s why I felt so good going out.
I really had wished I had packed my bladder in my bike frame at this point. I had only brought one water bottle with me and it was on the back of my seat. I, still having trouble keeping proper balance on my wobbly bike, had a difficult time grabbing my bottle, so drinking was actually a process. Maybe I should have brought a gel with me too. I had assumed that I’d be in the middle of the pack but now I found myself in the upper echelon of the race. I was back to competing at this point.
Shoot, maybe I should have brought the aero helmet.
Another turn brought us to another hill. I really should have done the research on this course. I kinda went in blind. Despite having done this tri a few years ago, they had changed up the bike course. I passed the woman and Mr. Steel Bike on the climb up, a climb resulting in a quick ride down a decline and then another incline, this one more disheartening than the last. I saw JJ at this point as I turned on Jason Street. I was too exhausted to do the thing that Smitty told us to do.
The top of this climb was rewarded with a long slope down to the road back to ISU. Once on that road the woman and Mr. Steel Bike took me over. I let them go. If they were strong runners then they would beat me fair and square. No, I needed to spend the last mile prepping my legs for my specialty.
I hopped back into transition, discarded my bike, and threw my running shoes on. Mr. Steel Bike just barely beat me out of transition, along with another guy in a Snake River Tri top. Hopefully my calf would hold up for this.
I started the run about 20 feet back from the dude in front of me and stayed there for the duration of the brick portion (where your legs feel like spaghetti and you forget how to run). My calves were cramping, but this had happened in previous triathlons and I expected it to go away. Half a mile in, I was in business.
I passed the Snake River guy and Mr. Steel Bike. I was cruising at a 7:00/mile clip and it felt good. However, there was a steep downhill that activated my pulled calf. Please hold on for two more miles, we can do this!
The route broke off the running path and onto a trail behind ISU. This was a long climb, dreaded by many in the race. I saw a guy a hundred meters ahead and fixated onto him. Half a mile later I reached him and passed, right before the steepest part of the climb. Once over that I was in the clear. Essentially it was all downhill to the finish. One more mile and then we were done. There really wasn’t anyone in front of me, and the only people who would catch me would be really good runners.
Which is what basically happened in the last 300 meters of the race. Coming down to make the final turns I passed a volunteer on the course who was cheering for someone behind me. Oh shit, is someone gaining? I didn’t want to look behind, but I ended up glancing at the turn, and appearing from out behind the truck parked at the corner was a guy about ten yards behind me, gaining fast.
I struck it into a higher gear. Gotta hold him off. I made the final turn. Sprint finish. I saw the archway. We were neck and neck as we crossed the timing pad one after another.
My momentum carried me into the medal table, which I nearly toppled over. We were both unsure who beat who, but at this point it really wouldn’t have mattered, since they didn’t do age group prizes. Turns out he barely clipped me at the end.
Yep, definitely should have brought the aero helmet.
It was the difference between 7th and 8th place. He wasn’t in my age group, so I would have been 3rd in that anyway, which would normally grant me recognition in a triathlon, but they don’t do age group prizes at this one.
I stuck around and waited for others I knew cross the finish line, still on a performance high that I did my best to keep going throughout the day. After all of the inner conflict and deliberation of how I would do on my first race back, I finished in the top 10! Not only that, but it helped me recapture a feeling of belonging that I had been searching for. In exploring other ventures: climbing, mountaineering, skiing, among others, I never felt a sense of belonging as I did at the finish line of this race.
I was meant to do this. And damn it felt good to be back!
After:
“To give any less than your best is to sacrifice the gift,” — Steve Prefontaine
I needed to redefine what “my best” was in regards to competing. Previously, it was dedicating 15–20 hours a week to training, getting my body ready to be at its peak performance. What I thought would build me up though had broken me down. I was living in a fantasyland thinking that despite everything that was going on within my life, as long as I trained hard, then everything will come to me.
I realize now that training to perform at my best is not a requirement, especially when it requires me to sacrifice my mental health. There is this perception that if you’re a triathlete, that’s what you do. They may do marathons at times, but swim/bike/run is their thing, their lifestyle, their passion. I was very passionate about it too, however I realized through the last few years that I can try out other things and still have triathlon accessible.
I may not see the results as I had previously, but I also find myself healthier now that I have expanded my passion past swim/bike/run, allowing myself to climb and ski and travel without the guilt that I miss a workout. I probably won’t be back at a previous level unless I decide to commit more in the future. Right now, the pattern I find myself in is more sustainable.
Also too, I can do triathlon anywhere; I currently live 90 minutes away from the Tetons, so I’m going to take advantage of that.
What being in the Bengal Tri this year accomplished was that it allowed me to move on. For years I was so fixated on competing in these races and so when I stopped focusing on them, I felt like I had lost a little bit of myself along with it. I also felt like if I wanted to compete in another triathlon, I needed to go all in. This race proved to me that I can have triathlon along with the other things. It was a freeing experience. Even with an injured leg, I knew completing this triathlon would help get a weight off my shoulders that I had for so long; I didn’t actually abandon anything, it was always there for me.
I have found a life that isn’t centered around racing and preparing to race and I have found peace with it. That being said I am very excited to jump into a tri race here and there when they are available to me. We’ll see what crazy thing my energy focuses on next.
So I conclude with this: follow where your energy is pointing to. Specific passions may change but your calling and purpose in this life with help guide you to what is healthiest and most fulfilling.
As for the Bengal Triathlon, I find it to be a great early season race and one that is a great introduction to the sport. It is very accessible due to the pool swim and the length of the race. Smitty and her crew of sports medicine students put on a great show and provide some great swag. I highly recommend this race if you want to get your feet wet in the sport, either for the first time or after a three year break.
