SJO Youth Cheerleading

Today I took Faith to her first Saint Joseph-Ogden youth football game as a peanut cheerleader. The youth football league has teams from about 7 communities between our town of St. Joseph and the Indiana state line. Today we faced the Georgetown Bulldogs. There are four divisions of football players and cheerleaders by age group. The peanuts are the youngest with 6 and 7 year-olds. Next are the freshman, followed by junior varsity and varsity. All are younger than high-school age. Our high school has traditionally had a very strong class 3A football team thanks in large part to the preparation that the kids get in the youth league.

Showing the way for the Spartan team to take the field!

Jenny volunteers as the peanuts' head cheer coach, but was at the Lake of the Ozarks for her annual girls' weekend with her college friends, so it was my job to get Faith in her uniform, put her hair in a pony tail, and get her to the field by 11:30. Fortunately for the girls, I did not have to coach them also. We left church a bit early at 11:20. The opener was a home game and the fields are only about 1/2 mile from our home.

Returning to our sideline after exchanging "Hello" cheers with the Georgetown Bulldogs.

Faith did an excellent job with her cheers, though she and the rest of the girls are still learning. Like most 6 and 7 year-olds, they are easily distracted and keeping them on task is never something to take for granted. But they have been practicing hard for the last couple weeks with coach Jenny for a couple hours each night, four nights a week.

Start of the pom routine. Faith is the only girl with her head down as it is supposed to be!

Our own SJO boys won the peanut contest 35-0. Our next-door neighbor, Keanan Swanson had an excellent game, leading the Spartans at quarterback and swarming to make several tackles on defense. His dad, Cory, is a coach. We stayed through halftime of the freshman contest, when the peanut and freshman squads combined for the pom routine. Without coach Jenny leading the way, most of the girls struggled to stay on top of the beat, but they still looked pretty good for the first time out. Faith said the music sounded "mushy." The PA system at this type of event is never state-of-the-art, but the many hard-working youth football volunteers put together a great afternoon nonetheless.

The peanut team taking the kickoff after halftime. The boys play on a 70-yard field. Neighbor Keanan is number 57.

Here are a couple of videos. My camera has a great lens and takes excellent still pictures, but the video resolution is rather poor. We'll get a few good videos before the season is over.

The Hello Cheer! (Faith is in the back row, just to the right of the center of the frame.)

Peanut-Freshman pom routine: I like to Move It! Move It! (Faith is the 3rd girl in the near column at the start of the routine.)

Last Tri of the Season

Today I competed in the Lytle Park Triathlon in Mattoon, Illinois. It was the last triathlon I plan to race this season. Last year, this was the second tri in which I had ever competed and the first for which split times were recorded. Thus it would be the first opportunity to gauge my progress this year in swimming, cycling, running, as well as the important but often overlooked transitions.

The weather for the race was just about perfect. My car thermometer read a brisk 54 degrees when I left my home just after 5:30 am. The temperature rose to 61 degrees in Mattoon by the 8 am start with 83% humidity and north-northeasterly winds of just 3 mph (which I would only learn later from checking the history on the weather channel online). It would feel a little cool for a moment getting out of the water and onto the bike, but race day adrenaline and elevated heart rate would mask it quite well. The conditions would be very welcome for the run.

I arrived at the start at about 6:45 am, picked up my packet, and readied my bike for a short warm-up ride. I took my other gear into the transition area to stake out a spot. The bike racks in the transition area looked to be about half full, but there wasn't a whole lot of space given the eventual turnout of about 75 athletes. I chose a rack with about 4 bikes on it that seemed spacious enough for at least 6 or 7.

A certain female competitor whom I recognized from previous races was stretching nearby and informed me rather sternly that I could not place my stuff there because someone else had claimed the spot and was out for a warm-up ride. I thought it was quite rude of her, especially given the fact that the rack could have easily accommodated at least 1 or 2 more bikes in addition to the one that was out for a warm-up. The bikes present on the rack were all facing the same direction. Proper triathlon etiquette would dictate that when space is at a premium, bikes should be staggered so that neighbors face opposite directions. This makes best use of the available space and allows more room for placing gear on the ground next to the bikes.

I figured the best thing for me to do would be to just find another spot. I did just that at a rack across the aisle. Someone's towel was laid out on one side at the end of the rack, but there was no bike, suggesting that its owner was also out for a warm-up. I placed my bike nearby, but facing the opposite direction, so as not to interfere with the owner of the towel. Then the woman arose from her stretch to accost me for placing my bike over the towel, whose owner apparently was a friend of hers. I explained that my bike was facing the other direction and thus should not interfere. She protested that the other person would not be able to get to her towel with my bike tire in the way. What she failed to appreciate, was that the towel should not have been placed so as to conflict with a bike properly mounted on the rack. Gear should be set back a few feet from crossbar at the center of the rack so as to not senselessly render useless 2 feet of perfectly good rack real estate. Ugh! I know this woman's name because she is usually the top female finisher at the Mattoon races and I would need to beat her to avoid being "chicked." (Yes, I'll admit to a bit of a fragile male ego when it comes to athletic contests.) Nonetheless, she'll remain nameless here to keep my rant from popping up in a list of search results for her name. I certainly don't want to make it personal and slanderous. Maybe she was just in a pre-race bubble and did not understand or appreciate that space was getting tight.

Anyway, it wasn't worth getting my blood boiling before the race, so I moved my bike to a third rack with some extra space that was not in the most desirable location. It was tucked into a corner near a tree and was furthest from the bike exit. While I was moving my stuff, the owner of the towel returned with her bike and apologized. I responded that it was OK, but that she should be prepared to make room for more bikes on her rack. Registration was open for another half hour and participants continued to file into the parking lot. I did tack her friend's comments onto my mental "bulletin board" to fuel my motivation to chase her down on the course. The start order would be by age group, with women before men, so she would be out on the course several minutes ahead of me.

After getting my gear situated, I took my bike out for a short warm-up. The wind was very calm and at the time I did not know what direction it was coming from. Even a subtle wind can make a difference on the bike and I wanted to know how to dose my effort on the out-and-back course. If I would face a headwind on any part of the route, I would pedal a little harder there and try to recover on the tailwind. Knowing that the winds were so light and the differences between headwind, tailwind, and crosswind would be subtle, I warmed up with a T-shirt, hoping that its flapping would help me discern the wind direction. I went out about a half mile before turning back and still had no idea which way the wind was blowing. My T-shirt seemed to drag on me about the same in all directions. Perhaps the wind had just about died altogether, but I knew there was a good chance it would pick up slightly by the time I got out on the road in the race.

I returned and racked my bike and headed over to start area for the pre-race meeting. The swim would take place in the Lytle Park Pool. The pool was oval-shaped with a zero-depth entry on the end we would start, tapering to a depth of 10 feet on the far end. There were no lap lanes or lines on the pool bottom and the M-shaped swim course was marked with 3 buoys. The swim had something of an open-water feel, but on a small scale and without the smell of gasoline and fish that characterized my lake-swim triathlons.

The Swim Course

The swim distance was advertised as 300 meters, which must be a gross overstatement. Just looking at the pool (and the swim splits that other competitors and I put up), it cannot be more than 75 meters across. The zero depth entry also allows one to run for much of the start and finish of the swim. The starter sent us into the water one at a time, at 15 second intervals. Last year, the start order was based on each person's estimate of his own swim time and we lined up from fastest to slowest. It was a bit awkward since last year was the first edition of the race and no one really knew how fast he would swim. Imperfect as it was, it seemed to work a little better than starting by age group. I went out harder than I usually do in the swim start and passed a few people in the water. By the time I approached the third buoy, there was a full-scale pile up. I was smacking other people's legs and had to pull up into a slow breast stroke. Once I rounded the buoy, I could slide over into my own "lane" and kick it up again until the water became shallow enough to stand up and run.

There was probably about 50 meters of running from the pool to the transition area. Part of it was over a gravely stretch of sidewalk that the organizers had covered with a very thin strip of astroturf. It didn't seem to help much. I was very deliberate in transition with putting on my singlet, helmet, and sunglasses, but didn't rush so much that I would risk forgetting something. Following my usual routine just outside the transition, I placed my right foot inside my bike shoe, mounted the bike, and pedaled away with my left foot on top of the bike shoe. A left turn out of the parking lot would be followed pretty closely by another left turn and then a right before we would head out of town. I decided to wait until after the turns to get into my left shoe and fasten both shoe straps.

Once we left town heading north, the road surface turned to smooth asphalt. The entire bike course was very flat, with only very subtle grade changes that took riders over stretches of slightly uphill "false flats" followed by morale-boosting gradual downgrades. There were no flagpoles or other cues to solve the mystery of the wind direction. The mature corn stalks were not moving much at all. I was mostly holding between 21 and 22 mph on way out. On a flat course of 12.5 miles, on good roads, and in calm winds, I would expect to average at least 23 mph. I thought to myself "I sure hope I am in a headwind." About a mile or so from the turn around, I spotted my friend from the bike rack heading the other way. I didn't know exactly how far ahead of me she started, but it seemed like I was gaining ground. I know from past experience that she is a very strong swimmer and pretty good runner, but not at all dominant on the bike. She was in my crosshairs.

I accelerated out of the turnaround and then settled back onto my aerobars. I felt a little spring in my cleats and was relieved to sense a mild tailwind that would help carry me home. I had avoided being passed on the bike through the turnaround, but I knew there was one guy on course that could certainly overtake me. Martin Gruebele, a German-Austrian chemistry professor from Champaign whom I recently met through the Prairie Cycle Club and Wild Card Cycling Team, was coming toward me about 400 meters from the turnaround. Martin is 44 years old and rides very fast, despite claiming that he never really exercised much until he decided he needed to do something about an extra 10 pounds that appeared around his midsection after he turned 40. He usually averages 25-26 mph on his time trial machine. A couple miles down the road, I heard the whirring approaching from behind. "That must be Martin" I said aloud. He lifted his right hand slighly from the end of the aerobar to wave. "What took you so long?" I asked. "The swim," he replied as he overtook me. If Martin has a weakness, it is the swim, but the ultra-short swim didn't factor much in this race. I did not have the legs to match his pace, but it was very motivating to have someone in front of me as a "carrot". I just imagined that he was towing me along as I lifted my pace a bit to try to keep him in sight to the finish.

Officially I finished the bike leg in 32:52.95 with an average speed of 22.8 mph, which included time to mount the bike and get into my shoes at one end and dismount at the other. My GPS computer recorded an average of 23.3 mph over most of the route except for the first quarter mile or so. I was pretty satisfied with the result, especially since I eased up a bit over the last mile or so to recover for the run.

Bike Speed Profile: Even a little wind makes a difference on a solo ride!

I had really hoped to finish this race with a strong run, given that this would be my last tri of the season. In addition to wanting to catch her on the course, I was motivated by the thought of taking a vacation from running, my least favorite part of triathlon. I passed one guy almost immediately on the run, but otherwise felt rather flat. I decided to just try to keep a steady pace on the way out, then try to lift it a bit after the turn.

The run course began with a loop around the park, then exited to Western Avenue, heading toward downtown Mattoon. Just before hitting downtown, we looped around one city block and turned for home. I never did see her on the way out, but I did see Martin exiting the turnaround block just as I entered it. She must have been in the turnaround block at the time. The next time I saw her was after I exited the loop and was heading for home. She was maybe 200 meters ahead. Given the differential in our start times, I knew I had her beat. Then she dropped into a walk and grabbed her side. This was a sweet sight. With a spring in my stride, the motivation to lift the pace was right there in front of me. The possibility of catching her on the course was looking pretty real. My head was spinning for things I could say as I dropped the hammer. "You should have been nicer to me at the bike rack" was one I repeated in my head a few times. She managed to restart her run, but the gap was closing. As we approached the park, she was probably only a block and a half ahead but she seemed to lift the pace with the finish line within reach.

The course then looped back around the park, in the opposite direction from the start, to complete the last 400 meters or so. During this time, I had lost site of her around the turns as two pairs of new footsteps approached from behind. The ingredients could not have been better to cue up my finishing kick, but as I dug for it, I just came up empty. The two guys passed me with about 200 meters to go and I had no response. From the markings on their calves, I could see that they were younger. One was 33 and so had started at least 15 seconds ahead of me. The other was 16. Part of me wanted to chase them down, but I rested on the reality that as long as I finished within 15 seconds, I would beat them both. I kept the gap from growing, but was still disappointed in my inability to kick to the finish. The whole run felt quite average and that I had underachieved on it. However, my training has pretty much been on cruise control for the last four weeks and I had only run once in the week prior. I reaped what I had sowed.

As I crossed the line, I noticed her on the ground, lying back on her elbows. I so wanted to say something but didn't have the heart to kick a fellow competitor who was so obviously down. I have been there myself. The "what would Jesus do?" adage crossed my mind as I walked by to leave well enough alone. Actually, Jesus probably would have said something genuinely sympathetic, but the best I could muster was to adhere to one of my mother's old favorites: "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." She was still the top female finisher and I still had the satisfaction of beating her.

Despite not meeting my expectations on the run, I came away with the top finish in my age group (there were only 4 of us) and 4th overall. More surprising was that in all five splits (swim, bike, run, plus 2 transitions), I did no better than 5th overall. I must have been more consistent throughout the race than all but the 3 who beat me. Martin took top honors overall, besting the runner-up who was half his age by almost 48 seconds. He was featured in the local Mattoon-Charleston newspaper.

Each of my splits compares favorably to my result from a year ago. I have much more triathlon experience now and have been training better over the course of the season than I did last year:

Swim: 4:30.70 (27.30 faster than 2007)
T1: 55.40 (50.60 faster)
Bike: 32:52.95 (2:49.85 faster)
T2: 52.85 (1.80 faster)
Run: 20:03.00 (19.85 faster)
Total: 59:14.90 (4:29.40 faster)

I plan to ride and train for another month or so with the Prairie Cycle Club and the Wild Card Cycling Team and try my hand at one or two criterium bike races in September. These are fast-paced road races around a circuit of usually about 1 mile, consisting of several laps and about 45 minutes to an hour in the saddle. If it goes well, I may try to mix in a few more bike races next year. I'll approach these races as a cautious beginner, just trying to finish while minimizing the risk of crashing. Then I will try to relax a bit through late September and early October before firing up the fast-twitch muscle fibers for another season of ski racing. Think snow!

Champaign Park District Mini Tri

Today I raced in the Champaign Park District's 26th Annual Mini-Triathlon. It was my second annual start in this race, which last year was my very first triathlon. The atmosphere at this race is very relaxed and family-friendly. The distances are ultra-short: 400 yards in the water (only half of which must actually be traversed with a swim), 6 miles on the bike, and 2 miles on foot. Last year I finished the race in just under 41 minutes and in 17th place overall. My goal this year was to finish under 38 minutes. With my new bicycle, I have been riding about 2-3 mph faster across all distances than I did last year. Part of the improvement is due to the equipment and part due to better training and conditioning from additional racing. Over a six-mile time trial, I have been training about 1:30 faster than a year ago.

This race is very popular locally and fills up fast. I mailed my entry about 6 weeks before the race and was put on the wait list. With about 40 ahead of me, I figured I should find another race or just take the weekend off. But the race director called me about two weeks ago to say that I was in.

The weather was beautiful, though a bit warmer than ideal and with a steady but not overwhelming northerly wind. Considering two of my four races this summer have been affected by rain, the conditions were great.

I saw several friends and acquaintances who were competing, spectating, or volunteering, including five fellow Champaign Ski Club members, two fellow Rotarians, and a fellow juror. One friend from the ski club, Chris Haydel, is usually one of the top overall finishers in this race. He was a collegiate runner at Western Illinois University and still runs very well.

The race begins with a 200 yard tour through the lazy river at the Sholem Aquatic Center. The starter sends one competitor every 15 seconds, with the start order determined by the order of registration. My start number was 373 and my start time was 9:03 am. I had plenty of time to warm up and get my gear situated, especially since the transition area remained continuously open to all competitors. The downside of a late start is that the temperatures and wind speed would gradually increase through the morning.

The lazy river jets were turned off, but the water was only 3 feet deep throughout. Some self-proclaimed triathlon purists insisted on swimming this portion of the race. However, no self-respecting professional triathlete would swim in 3 feet of water, and my own interpretation of triathlon purism is to do what the pros would do. The object is to get to the finish as quickly as possible, within the rules of the race. For me (and most semi-coordinated athletes over 5' in stature), that meant a combination of running and dolphin-diving through the lazy river. My friend Chris, also a late registrant, started 2 minutes and 45 seconds behind me. One of my goals was to stay ahead of him, but I knew that would be tough since he is a much stronger runner. I can swim and ride on par with him, but I figured the odds were pretty good that the catch would come about 1 mile into the run.

After we exited the lazy river, we ran to the 8-lane lap pool and swam one length in each lane, ducking under the dividers after each length to enter the next lane, for a total of 200 yards. The depth in the lap pool ranged from 5 feet at one end to 3.5 feet at the other. Some competitors chose to walk through this portion as well, but swimming was the fastest route for me in this water.

I felt pretty good exiting the water and jogged through the transition area to my bike. I chose to ride and run shirtless, but a silly rule required us to wear our paper race numbers, facing forward, during both the bike and run. Most races require numbers on the run and some require separate numbers attached to the bike, but I didn't see the point of wearing a number on the rider's front. Except for riders who sat totally upright on a mountain bike or hybrid, the number was not visible anyway. Wearing the number on the front only served to irritate the rider and cause a bothersome fluttering sound throughout the ride. The bike route was a three-lap circuit around the main streets that encircle the park complex, a high school, and a middle school. The route was mostly flat (no surprise for the locale), but included a modest rise which was a bit challenging since it was positioned immediately after a corner that followed the headwind stretch. The route was different from most I had raced in that it had a lot of right angle turns per length, but the roads were generally clean, without the gravel and other debris that collects at the intersections of rural routes. Maintaining as much speed as possible through the corners was critical. One of the corners featured three utility lids hazardously positioned 2-3 inches below the road surface, but I had scouted the route on my bike earlier to plan my line. I encountered slower riders in some of the turns, which really tested my modest bike handling skills.

The race timing was pretty low-tech and no splits were recorded, but I did record my bike leg here. It was a decent ride, but I probably should have stood out of the saddle and pedaled harder over a few stretches, given the brevity of the ride and race as a whole. Unlike my last race, an Olympic-distance challenge lasting over two and a half hours, there was virtually no risk of cracking due to prolonged elevated heart rate here.

The bike-run transition is typically a weak spot of mine. I improved it a little today by opting not to wear socks on the run. On a longer run, that could lead to blisters and some discomfort the following week that would impact training for the next race (not to mention general mobility), but I was confident it would not be a problem over two miles. I felt pretty good on the run and knew from having raced last year just where to start my finishing kick. I kept waiting for Chris to catch me, but I held him off to finish about 15 seconds ahead. Of course, with my earlier start, it meant that he had bested me by about 2:30 and that I was second in the age group to which we both belonged. The age brackets for this race are a little odd and don't follow the USA Triathlon age groups. I race as a 37 year-old in USAT, which uses your age as of December 31 of the current year so that no one changes age class during the racing season. However, I don't actually turn 37 for another 6 weeks. As a result, I was likely the oldest competitor in the 30-36 group used for this race. However, my whining is meaningless since I would have finished second in the 37-43 group as well.

My result was good for sixth overall. (Here are results by age group and overall.) I was about 20 seconds slower than the fastest woman, an incoming freshman at the University of Illinois and a walk-on to the swim team. Finishing in the top 2% overall looks pretty impressive, but keep in mind that the field as a whole was not very competitive, given the relaxed, family-friendly nature of the race. In my most competitive race, the Olympic-distance Evergreen Lake Triathlon held two weeks prior, I barely cleared the top 50% overall.

My finishing time of 37:30 was nearly 3 and a half minutes better than last year's mark and exceeded my goal of 38 minutes. I probably owe half of the difference to a faster bike. I did cramp a bit on the run as a rookie triathlete last year, so I am sure I gained a bit there as well. And the rest of the improvement is from faster transition and better overall familiarity with the triathlon routine. It will be tough to top the mark again next year. I am not getting any younger, and don't plan any major equipment upgrades! Plus, this may be the last year that I actually race this event for a while. If we can get the training wheels off Faith's bike and get her in some swim lessons, then I could become a "super-domestique" to help her finish her first triathlon.