Nationals Part 2: Going For Broke

Triathlon is a very interesting sport. You spend all year with a few goals in mind. You think about them while your working, while your training, even while your sleeping. You think about how that "magical" race is going to unfold. You think about how you are going to push yourself past the limits of the human body. You tell yourself that you'll have the courage to dig deep. You convince yourself that you will push until you break. You convince yourself that they will have to pick your limp body off the course before you give up. It is a good thing that we have the ability to trick ourselves. It's a good thing we can forget our last race enough to stand on that starting line again. Racing defines our lives. It makes us who we are. Racing is a test. It is much more than who can get to the finish line the fastest. Pre put it beautifully, "I don't race to see who is the fastest, I race to see who has the most guts."

The alarm wasn't supposed to go off for several more hours, but I was already turning in my sleep. The hotel bed wasn't nearly as comfortable as it was the night before. I awoke before the alarm had a chance to ring. I had a good feeling about today, it was the day I had been waiting for all year. Eager to get to the race site, Stern showed up at my hotel a little early. We both felt the nerves. Those who have never had the opportunity to experience the morning before a big race may not understand, but it is a feeling you remember for a lifetime.

The spotlights glared over transition. We still couldn't see. Late season races mean starting well before the sun comes up. Something about jogging down a deserted street in the dark made me feel alive. It made me feel like I was about to embark on an epic journey. As I ran along the calm lake, the rain started to pour. My body was soaked, but that was the last thing on my mind. Nothing in the world could take me from the task at hand.

As I got back to transition, the rain had picked up considerably. I put on my wetsuit early to stay warm. A half hour before the race was scheduled to start, McArthur Road began to flood. It was the last thing I expected to happen. In a heart beat, an element of uncertainty was introduced. Rumors of a swim-run-swim circulated. I laughed at the thought of hundreds of tired athletes trying to put their wetsuits back on after running 13.1 miles. After a 40 minute delay, they decided to start the race under one condition. If we came to a flooded section of the course, we were supposed to dismount and run through. Tri season wasn't even over and I was supposed to start practicing my cyclocross skills?

The water was luke warm. I couldn't believe it was wetsuit legal. Luckily the outside air was cold and we welcomed the warmth of the small lake. My plan was to quickly find open water and then settle into a very relaxed pace. I wanted to remain as comfortable as possible. "10 seconds athletes!" I had one of the straightest routes to the turn around. These first few hundred meters could be exciting.

The water around us turned red. A couple hundred athletes started ripping through the shallow lake water. The dark red clay that lined lake floor turned the lake water blood red. I'm sure it was an interesting site from the beach. After finding a good rhythm, I found myself alone towards the front of the wave. I was swimming well and could tell right away. My stroke was long and smooth. I felt much more powerful than usual. I pushed the pace around the turn-around buoy, I wanted a fast swim split. The swim went by in a flash. As I dolphin dived up the long concrete ramp towards the timing mat, I knew I had the best swim of the season. I checked my watch... 27:10.

I kept my HR low through transition. I hoped that I would have the ability to find my legs quickly. As a pedaled around the lake, I felt something I hadn't felt all year. My legs didn't feel empty! As I pushed the pace onto McArthur, the rain picked up again. Six miles into the bike I approached the first flooded section of the course. I didn't know it at the time, but I was one of the first people to go through. The volunteers weren't there to tell us to dismount. As I approached, It was much too late to slow down and dismount... I was committed. The water was 8inches deep. I rolled through slowly hoping to stay on my bike. Another athlete to my right did the same. This was a race. To me, it was completely acceptable to take chances.

At mile 25, I had no clue what place I was sitting in. I assumed I was towards the front. Top 20? Maybe even top 10? A mile before hitting the turn around, I saw the lead rider, Tim Hola. A minute behind him was Willy Pickhart. I knew both athletes' reputations quite well. I looked up for more riders but didn't see any... just the turn around. I was sitting in 3rd position overall, only 4 minutes down. The thought of that gave me a surge of energy. I hammered through the rain back towards the lake. I hadn't been near another athlete for 50 miles. I knew there were guys behind me who wanted my position. I was just going to have to fight for it.

I got off the bike in 2 hours and 25 minutes. I knew that it would be one of the faster times. The bike course was wet, flooded, and poorly paved. I didn't expect any blazing bike splits. I ran out of transition as the announcer's voice rang over the loud speaker. "Here comes the third athlete to get onto the run course. AJ Baucco from Cleveland Heights, Ohio!" I reminded myself that this race was mine.

I ran very conservatively for the first 3 miles... 6:25, 6:40, 6:15. Just like Jim told me, I would come into my pace. I started to feel really strong. My pace dropped to just above 6 minutes per mile as I hit the first turn around. I had a nice lead on my chasers, at least 3 minutes. As I ran back to transition to start the second loop, I started passing other athletes running in the opposite direction. They knew I was out in the front of the race and that gave me confidence. This race was mine and I was really starting to believe it. As I ran by my Dad at mile 6, I had this feeling deep down. This was the race that I had been waiting for my entire life. I finished the first 6.55 mile loop in 42 minutes. I felt like I had been conservative in my pacing. I saw my chasers for the first time. They were running hard, but I still had 2 minutes on both of them. As I hit mile 7, I started to slow a bit. My body began feeling heavy. I was starting to struggle a little bit. Mile 7 ended up being 7 minutes... I told myself I could get it back. By mile 8, I was finally passed. It was the first time all day. He made me feel like I was running backwards. I told myself it was okay. But was it? At mile 8.5, I was passed again. This one broke my heart a little bit. I was falling apart. I tried to keep it together. I knew this was the moment where I had to begin to dig deeper than I thought was possible. But, my body was telling me to stop. To quit. To give up. No one would care if I just gave up. In a race, your mind becomes your worst enemy. That is where the epic battle begins. The mind is the toughest opponent. I started to wonder if I would be able to finish again.

My pace was staggering. There was no more kick in my step. I was suffering. All I needed to do was hold on for a few more miles. I just couldn't pick up my pace. I wondered if I had been drinking enough liquid in the rainy conditions. Too late now, I was bonking hard as ever. At mile 11, I grabbed a tall, flat soda. I begged it to save me. At mile 11.5, I could taste the finish. I could see it in the distance. As I approached mile 12, a pack of three runners passed me. The knife was in my chest. They just twisted it. As I watched them run away from me, I got pissed off for the first time all day. I felt the sugar from the coke run through my veins like a drug. This was it. Stop being a wimp and run! My pace dropped, my stride opened and I began to kick for the finish.

The more I race the more I feel like I am searching for that perfect race. As endurance athletes are we ever happy? I have accomplished a great deal in the last few years. I won two triathlons, podium'd at many others, and finished a world championship race. I have never crossed the line and been satisfied enough to say "That's it. That is the best race I will ever have in my life." I known that will never happen. I just hope that someday I will look back on how I lived my life and be truly happy. If that happens, all of the suffering, the pain, the loneliness, the self-doubt, the struggle... it will all be worth it. I am my biggest enemy, my toughest competitor. I always have been. I know that I can accomplish great things in my life and I won't be happy until I do. I'm not an athlete. I don't have any great skills. I don't even think I was born with the ability that most elite endurance athletes were given. I was just given this burning passion to better myself. I'm not sure if it is a blessing or a curse. But it is mine... It burns deep inside me and it is going to take me places.

I ended up crossing the line in 4:27:25. I was 8th overall at a national championship. I was also 1st in the M20-24 division. I guess that means I am an age group national champion. I can't help but laugh when i write that. If you knew me a few years ago, you'd laugh too. I guess that anything is possible... who knows what the next few years will bring.

Nationals Part 1: Survivng the Taper

Today is Wednesday, 3 days before the race. So at this point, I can accurately say that I survived my only real taper of the year. My season started nearly 6 months ago when I showed up in New Orleans to test my bike trainer fitness, or lack thereof. It has been a long year, but a fairly eventful one. This year has brought me many good memories, some new friends, and a new respect for the sport of triathlon. A ton have people have stepped up and helped me on my journey and for them, I am truly thankful. Jim LaMastra, a local triathlon god ;) has been there for me everyday this year. He has hammered me on the bike, given me guidance, and believed in me when I didn't even believe in myself. He is the kind of person that everyone should strive to be more like.

I had set many goals for myself this year, and some of those goals remain unaccomplished. There were certain races I wanted to win, and certain times I wanted to nail. But looking back, not winning a race wasn't what defined my season. The work an athlete puts in, when no one is watching, truly defines that athlete. The race is just how the athlete is remembered. Regardless of how I am remembered this year, I have done the work and am a better athlete and person because of it.

After my 3 week streak of Olympic distance racing, I needed a break. I was 2nd OA at Pittsburgh, 4th OA at Cleveland, and 3rd OA at Greater Cleveland. It was a solid racing block, but I needed to step away from racing to really redefine my goals. After a much needed recovery week, I started my build for nationals. I tried to be as disciplined as possible during these few weeks, but my mind wandered. It has been hard juggling a relationship and racing season. I was being pulled in two directions for weeks, even months. Even though she didn't mean to, that person was stealing away my passion for triathlon. She was making me compromise my goals and even my dreams. She made me feel like I wasn't normal for wanting so much out of a pretty basic sport. I may not be normal, but I sure don't need someone pointing that out. As I approached my 2 week taper, my life started to fall apart at the seams. Even though my relationship had fallen apart a while ago, I felt the need to address it at the worst possible time. I should have been concentrating on triathlon, but it was the last thing on my mind. Failing at a relationship can be viewed in many different ways. I wanted to blame triathlon at first. That would have been easier. It does consume a huge portion of my life. But, my passion for triathlon didn't ruin this relationship. We were just two people who had much less in common than we thought. If we both would have been more upfront about our lifestyles in the beginning, that relationship would have never begun. But I guess that is what relationships are for, to learn from. I am happy that situation was finally sorted out because my mind in finally at ease and I can move on with my life. As for the taper, I survived. I feel fit and fast. I am healthy and willing to put my heart on the line again. It is what I live for and when I cross that line on Saturday, this whole year will be worth it. I may have gotten sidetracked, but I sit here 3 days away with a second chance. When that moment comes, the one where you truly have to dig deeper than you thought was possible, I hope I have the courage. For one day, can be remembered for the rest of my life.

Suzuki Pittsburgh Triathlon

After attempting to race The Dam Tri with the flu, I found myself completely wrecked for 10 days. I didn't leave my couch for days at a time. My stomach turned every time I even thought about training. I spent my time sleeping, watching Degrassi, napping, playing video games, and sitting in the bathroom. It was definitely the worst 10 days of my year so far. After my illness subsided and I got my legs back underneath me, I started a very intense 2 week training block. When the two weeks were completed, I had logged about 38 hours of quality training. This short training block included over 375 miles on the bike, 75 miles of running, and about 18 miles of swimming. These two weeks left me a little beat up, but ready to race again. After a quick recovery week, I found myself at the starting line of the Pittsburgh Triathlon.

I had decided to do this race for a few reasons. After 10 days of being sick and two weeks of hard training, I was itching to race. Also, I have done this course before and I wanted to see my progression in the last two years. Mentally, I was in a very stable place and I was eager to test myself once again.

Rachel and I drove to Pittsburgh on Saturday afternoon. My parents, especially my Dad, couldn't let himself miss my race. Even though he was scheduled to be out of town the morning of the race, he went out of his way to meet us in Pittsburgh that night. This was the first race I let anyone, who wasn't racing, stay with me. I didn't think Rachel would get in my way, this was just uncharted territory. Turns out, I spent the day before the race much more relaxed then I had ever been before. Apparently, she has this ability to take my mind right off of the race.

I awoke 3 minutes before my wakeup call was scheduled... not surprising. My eternal alarm clock is always set the night before a race. I went through all of my pre-race rituals and left Rachel sleeping as I slipped out of the door, it was early. I got down to transition with plenty of time to spare. I have raced so many time in the last few years that I could go through my pre-race sleep walking. I spent the majority of the early morning warming up. I wanted to make sure that I was completely ready to race today. I saw Rob Reddy before the start. He had an interesting night. Apparently, bringing your dog to the hotel is grounds for removal. Rob, his girlfriend, her son and the dog spent the night in the car. He could have called me... we had an extra couch.

As race time approached, I slipped in the Allegheny River to warm up. I remembered that Rachel told me to look out for the Allegheny White Fish. I laughed to myself. I hoped I wouldn't be seeing any floating condoms this morning. The water was warm and gross. I already wasn't happy with the swim conditions. Exactly like two years ago, I cut my foot walking into the river. I was bleeding, but it wasn't horrible. I thought "Damn river gets me every time."

We all lined up at the buoy ready to race. The announcer said it would be one minute till the gun. I had to swim a modified breast stroke to stay at the buoy. The current was really strong today. The first 400 meters were against the current to the turn around buoy, then it was about 1100 meters to the swim exit. Those first 400 meters lasted a lifetime. I was fighting so hard against the current, but I didn't feel like I was getting any closer. My attitude was negative during the swim. My arms were heavy and I couldn't get into a rhythm. When I got closer to the exit, I couldn't figure out where I was getting out of the water. I over swam the exit and had to go against the current for several yards. This was an annoying end to an annoying swim. As I exited the water, I spotted my parents and shot them a look... they knew I wasn't happy with my swim. After a 22 minute swim, 3 minutes faster than two years ago, I was sitting in at least 10th position. My transition was quick and I had one thing on my mind, a blazing bike split.

All year, I haven't been happy with my bike splits. In training, I am consistently riding well. However, something about the racing hasn't been translating. Luckily, I felt good about this bike course. The course is two loops. It climbs about 6 miles at a fairly easy grade before turning around and heading back towards the city. I stayed in the big ring for the entire climb and I definitely used it to my advantage. Riding very gradual and rolling hills have always been a strength of mine. In the first half of the first lap, I rode my way into 3rd. This bike course was treating me well. As I descended back towards PNC Park, the rain kicked up a little. It made the downhills dangerous, but I was looking for a challenge. I rode aggressively and finished the first lap in roughly 31 minutes. I again started climbing with a mission. When I hit the turn around again, I was in 2nd place. I saw the lead rider, Colin Gundling. He was right where I wanted him. I knew if I descended well, we'd come into transition together. The next downhill was tougher because the rain had kicked up. As the rain pelted me in the eyes, I wished I had my sunglasses on. My second descent was slower, but my second lap was faster... just over 29 minutes. I finished the bike in 1:00:15. It was like 8 minutes faster than two years ago and it was a personal best for the 40k. I was delighted to have rode like that on such a rolling course.

I exited T2 about 30 seconds down from Colin. As we ran down towards the river, he was right underneath me. At the time, I was certain that he was mine. I have always proven to be a faster runner than him. At the Dam Tri, I out ran him by over 30 seconds and I was sick as a dog! I had a great feeling in the pit of my stomach, I was going to win again... I decided not to chase him down too quickly. I thought he would come back to me naturally. I starred at his back in anticipation. I waited... and waited. Why wasn't he coming back to me? Why was he getting farther away? I started to panic a little bit. He was running really well. I was running hard, almost at my max. But, for some reason, I wasn't closing the gap. Where my legs not as fresh as I thought they were? Was this an effect of the 10 day flu or the 2 week training block. I thought I was stronger than this. I decided that at the 5k turnaround I would make my move. I would put my head down and run like hell. I would catch him or I would die trying. I hit the turn around 40 seconds down from him. I started to run hard. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. I was red lining... but would I blow up? I looked up after a few minutes, he was getting closer. I kept pushing. I looked up again. There he was... How much did I have left? I passed Rob Reddy coming the other way. "3000 meters AJ," he yelled. "Your 30 seconds down!!! You can catch him! Go!" Could I really catch him? I put my head down one last time... all or nothing. A minute later, I picked up my head, my semi-blurred vision saw no leader. My pace slowed and started to die slowly. I had blown up. My HR was through the roof and every part of my body was filled with lactic acid. Today wasn't my day, it was Colin's. I finished the last mile, but stopped chasing. I pulled my jersey back up over my shoulders. I myswell look descent when I cross the finish line. No sense in looking like I just got defeated. I crossed the line in 2:02:15, a personal best at the Olympic Distance. I was about 70 seconds off Colin's winning time. I was very happy with my performance. I had gone pretty fast on a tough course. And, I was like 14 minutes faster than two years ago, even though that was only my second triathlon.

At first, I was upset that I wasn't able to run Colin down like I thought I could, but that kid had a great race. My hat was off to him. He had his day. He pushed hard and deserved his win. I was happy that I was there to test him. He later said in an interview with the Pittsburgh Tribune that he saw me coming at him at the 5k turn around and he was worried. I may not have won, but I sure as hell gave it a shot, and he knew that. My legs may not have carried me to my fasted 10k, but at least I can sleep at night knowing that I showed up, raced hard, and crossed that line with my head up... again.

Even though that finish line is only a temporary finish, it still feels good to cross it. Some day, I'll cross that final finish line, but it won't be a line on the ground. Until then, I keep racing because it is the only thing that has ever made me feel truly alive.