Party Tour

We had originally planned to go to the Chicago Triathlon, which was a previous Party Tour stop and always a good time. But we decided to stay closer to home and, besides, the last time I'd done the Santa Barbara Triathlon was in the late 80s.

The distances appealed to me. One mile swim, 34-mile bike, and 10-mile run are long enough to allow one to stretch one's legs but, unlike a half, portend less pain.

There is only one problem with this race: if you're a points-hound, that is, if you care about your USAT ranking, this races conspires against you. The winning age-group time is just a hair under 3 hours (keeping this race equivalent with a sprint instead of making it equal to an Ironman) and it caps its entrants at 600. This means that with no-shows, DNFs, and DQs the finish total is just under 500, again costing you points.

Not that I'm intending to unseat Joe Bonness in the 45-49.

In limiting the long course field to 600, though, here you actually have a race in which the bike course is not crowded. It was pleasantly barren, as a matter of fact, compared to many other races I've done. Plus, the half-dozen or so waves leave 5 minutes apart, so there's not much chance of swimming into and through waves of people young enough to be your children.

There is one other thing worth mentioning about this race. Its course is geography-specific. The bike course is a natural loop. No throwing in an out-and-back to make it an even 56. I like that in a race. In fact, the best races are not those whose RDs think of every conceivable way they can coax success through imitating the formulae of other races. This course is what it is, and it stands up well because of it.

One thing about this very scenic bike course, however. They warn you in pre-race meetings about its twisty descents, and they aren't kidding. There are a lot of 15 and 20mph signs, and as a cyclist you always wonder, "They say 20mph, but do they mean 20mph?" In the case of this course, there are several turns in which they really do mean 20mph. On one of them I just flat-out blew it, crossed the double yellow, used up all of that lane, used up the shoulder on the other side of the road, and still ran out of room. I was certain I was going to fall as I started up the unlandscaped embankment, and was trying to ascertain whether I had any choice in how I was going to fall. As it turned out I ended up back onto the road, though I didn't gain a switchback like the other guy did in that French race.

And another thing. This race is on Saturday. I really would rather race on Saturday. That gives me all Sunday to limp and moan and lay around and enjoy my post-race pain.

This means the whole enterprise starts on Friday and really I'd rather cut out early on Friday for a trip to Santa Barbara, wouldn't you? Hazard's Cyclesport does the pre-race, make-sure-your-bike-works thing, and this is on Friday, so that you can fix whatever ails your bike if you need to. I noticed that if you're a girl, and you're cute, you can get a lot of free maintenance done by Hazard's on-site wrenches.

The swim takes place in the ocean, but it's a protected beach so there's next to no surf. But it's not protected from cold water, and the temperature dropped from 66 degrees to 58 in less than a week. I thought back to all the times I'd heard many people just like you say, "The cold doesn't bother me so much and, besides, I like the feel of the water."

As I surveyed all the longjohns on the beach I cracked a smile that anyone with rubberless arms could interpret as, "Feel that, mother[trucker]."

People treat cold water incorrectly. Wanting to spare themselves the pain as long as possible they don't warm up in the cold water. The gun goes off, they jump in, their face hits the water and whammo, they can barely breathe. This is why people can drive their cars into ice-cold rivers and live for half an hour. All the blood shuts down in their extremities and only their brain keeps functioning. Good for car wrecks. Bad for triathlons. Best to take your medicine and warm up early.

Anyway, blah blah blah [imagine boring race report inserted here]. Monty won the AG, I got third, and I got passed and outrun by some local 45-year-old (who got second), which surprised me and pissed me off because I don't usually get outrun by anyone in my AG. So, back to the drawing board.

Post-race food rocked — boy, I love it when that happens — which made it a good food weekend all the way around. We'd expected to have to settle for Carl's Junior for the pre-race carbo (and fat) loading dinner, but the Radisson across the street from the race start had an unbelievable Friday-night buffet (in case you go to this race next year).

And if you do go, which I very likely will again, just remember to sign up early. This baby fills early. (What good races don't these days?)