So, How Many Hats Do You Wear?

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Pensacola, Florida, United States
Husband. *Dog Dad.* Instructional Systems Specialist. Runner. (Swim-challenged) Triathlete (on hiatus). USATF LDR Surveyor. USAT (Elite Rules) CRO/2, NTO/1. RRCA Rep., FL (North). Observer Of The Human Condition.
Showing posts with label assistance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label assistance. Show all posts

Sunday, September 11, 2011

So You're Thinking About Triathlon, Eh?

So you're thinking about doing a triathlon event, huh? I'll admit I like the sport a great deal, which makes perfect sense if you've read my postings from a couple of years ago. Multisport is great because it's an inclusive bunch; the type-A folks, the rank recreational participants and even the professionals are all pretty much together on the same course and the same conditions.

I've participated in the sport at a variety of levels; athlete, event volunteer, course coordinator, and race director. Over the past four months, I've worn the red polo shirt of a USAT official and worked the water, transition, bike and run courses of sprint, intermediate and long distance events.

I walked through the transition area of an intermediate (Olympic distance) triathlon during the first week of September and heard someone say, 'oh, the penalty guys are here.' That's one way to hurt someone's feelings, even if they are wearing a red or zebra-striped polo shirt.

The role of a USAT certified official blends two different professions, that of educator and of law enforcer. Before the gun goes off, the referee/s work to make certain the "playing field" is safe and fair for everyone. The head referee for a race wears a zebra-striped shirt and serves as the final authority when it comes to the rules and penalties. Any violation written by an assistant referee (who wear red shirts) is verified or can be nullified by the head referee, depending on the assistant's description. Not even the race director can overturn a violation penalty. The zebra serves as defense counsel, prosecution, judge, jury and (regrettably, sometimes) executioner.

The referees check the water temperature to determine if wetsuits can be used, review the transition layout to every athlete travels the same amount of distance as their fellow participants, checks to make certain bikes are safe, legal, numbered and racked correctly, looks at helmets and equipment to make certain they meet USAT standards, and answers rules-related questions.

Once the gun goes off, it's time to enforce the rules.

Often, new and relatively-inexperienced participants suffer - at the least first-race or tri-newbie angst, at the worst variable time penalties and even disqualification - for mistakes made in training or in training groups. Really.

I think back to my first handful of races; I would have been penalized at least twice in my first triathlon and probably disqualified in my first long-distance triathlon for rules I said I knew and agreed to follow when I signed my event waiver. So, not only am I talking from the perspective of a guy who knows most all of the relevant rules, I'm talking from a guy who's seen or broken most of the easily-broken rules.

So, let's talk about some things you can do to make those first few races go more smoothly.

Before you go inside transition, make sure you've mounted your race numbers on your bike and helmet. Both should be clearly visible from the left-hand side. Make certain your body marking is clear and large. If the race director provides body marking tattoos, place them slowly and carefully. Most importantly, check to see whether your tires are inflated, gears shift and - most importantly - the ends of your handlebars are plugged. If they aren't, ask a transition volunteer to direct you to bike tech support. In the case of the bar ends, they have to be plugged or you won't be able to ride that bike. Of all the rules referees are charged to enforce the bar end rule is one of the three which can lead to a disqualification.

Once you are in transition, it's all about you. Some events are more stringent than others in keeping family members out of transition. It's both for the safety of the racers and the security of their gear; some bikes I've seen are two months' worth of paychecks on skinny tires.

Once you find your rack area, place your bike either with the handlebars on the rack or hang it by the saddle. Now take a look at your bike. Whatever way you have racked it, the space from the rail from where you hung the bike out to where your bike wheel touches the ground is space which is reserved for your gear. If there's no space in the area where you are supposed to rack your bike, talk to the racers in that area, a transition volunteer or a referee to help adjust the bikes. Staggering so every second bike faces the same direction allows each racer to have a space up to 75 centimeters wide (the legal maximum width of a bicycle according to USAT competition rules) for their gear.




Take a moment or two to look at the layout of really experienced triathletes. You'll find they have less gear than the less-experienced athlete. It's not necessarily that they have more on the bike, but they've learned to bring the least amount of gear necessary for their event. I recall the layout of a guy in my age group from my first triathlon; he had a stool for a seat, a bucket for his feet, not to mention the towel, helmet, bike shoes, water bottle, etc. His wife stepped in to assist him in transition, too, but that's another story.


So the gun has gone off and you got through the swim - I'm usually smiling about this point, because if anything is going to do me in it's going to be the swim.

Once you've come out of the water and entered transition for the first time, think: Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast. Put on the helmet first. Set it properly on your head. Facing forward - only the pros are required to wear their helmet properly, but a properly worn helmet is a helmet which might save your life. Buckle the chin strap. Good. Now work on everything else. Once you have the shoes and helmet on, walk quickly and smoothly to the mount line, then get on the bike.

The unbuckled chinstrap can get you in a world of trouble if you mount your bike; it's a variable time penalty in transition and a disqualification if you're on the course. I've seen new racers with buckled chinstraps which hang down like they were playing hockey. Or the helmet is tilted back on their head; especially ladies who have pinned their hair up. The helmet has to fit snugly; a loose helmet is one which won't protect the head in a crash.

I saw an athlete walk through transition toward the mount line at a recent race. I called out, 'racer number (blank)...racer number (blank)...YO, DUDE!' He couldn't hear me. He was wearing an iPod. Another racer had a set of headphones hanging around his neck.

Music headphones are not allowed in triathlon events. Even if they aren't on your ears. Outside of being dangerous on the bike, because it's impossible to tell who or what may be approaching, USAT considers music players, cell phones and radio devices unauthorized equipment, something which can be used to provide a tempo (pace) reinforcement or possibly provide you information on the location of fellow competitors. Either way you want to look at the use, it merits a variable time penalty.

The bike leg of a triathlon has four very simple rules; ride on the right hand side of the road. Pass on the left hand side of the road. Stay back three bike lengths from any rider in front of you. Make the pass in 15 seconds; once you make the pass keep pedaling and move to the right side of the road. If you're passed, move back three bike lengths before trying to make a pass. The hard part, usually, is that inexperienced riders are used to riding side-by-side with friends or being closer than three bike lengths apart from another rider.

Hear those motorcycles? That's the referees. They're riding along to make certain all the riders are following the rules. A group of riders on the road is usually a tell-tale sign for the motorcycle and referee to come watch and make sure everyone is playing fairly.

Sometimes the sound of a cycle will make riders tighten up their distance or position. Other times it will force a rider to attempt the pass because they were too close when we arrived - 7 meters/23 feet is closer than most people think, but once you're within that space there's only one legal way out. Through the front. In 15 seconds.

If someone is drafting off you, don't yell at them or argue. If there is enough referee coverage on the course they'll be eventually found out.

When you get to transition, slow down before you hit the dismount line. Get off the bike, then walk into the transition. Again, remember the mantra...slow is smooth. Smooth is fast. Set your bike on the rack, remove your helmet, then put on your shoes.

We've had many racers ask whether their spouse/child/friend can run with them on the run course. Only if they run with everyone else, we tell them. Impossible? Only one family member and hundreds of runners? I guess it wouldn't be fair then, would it? They can stand along the curb and cheer you on, but don't use your cell phone to chat with them. Remember, those things aren't allowed, right?

And while we're talking about being on the course, make certain that everything you take with you during the event stays with you. Don't toss your empty bike bottles or gel packets unless you're literally in sight of an aid station. A lot of towns really are down on triathlon events because the participants treat their roadways and lots like it is their own personal rubbish bin.

And if you find you've been penalized after the event, the head referee normally stays until the end of the awards presentations to answer rules and violation questions. They might have written your violation, or their assistant/s may have. Either way, they will be able to explain what was seen on course and how it violated the rules.

Multisport is like golf for the high-strung: You can have the perfect race and still find areas which need improvement. You can focus on one area and get really good, then suddenly find out you've slipped in the other two. So, it's a balance of power, speed, technique and smarts...two hours of racing can whip your butt for the day...or you can achieve a state of euphoria after six hours. Find the distance you like and try it out.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Three "Really Ought To Have" Gadgets

This morning, my wife is going to see her dentist, Dr. Roberto Maal. Until about a month ago she had little need to visit him, or any other dentist, for that matter. Suzanne is as mindful of her home care routine as I am when it comes to my training routine. It makes dental hygienists jealous.

However, she was assaulted while walking to her car on a Saturday evening in our downtown. Disoriented & confused, with a scraped-up knee & damaged incisor teeth, she walked nearly three miles (past the police station) to a friend's house. She tried calling my cell phone (which just happened to be sitting in my car) to have me come get her, & ended up spending a very chilly night on her friend's front porch.

I woke up early the next morning to no spouse. Panic immediately followed, especially after hearing the messages which provided no information other than "come get me." I drove into downtown looking for her car, then called her friends in the hope she was with them. One friend, awakened from a sound sleep at six a.m., suddenly realized Suzanne was out on the porch & had been knocking on the window the entire night, trying to get her attention.

Fortunately for us, & thanks to Dr. Maal, the story has an economic & emotional "happy ending." But all too often I read news articles of "horror stories," where solitary (female) joggers or walkers have been mugged, robbed, sexually assaulted, or killed because they were in the wrong place at a bad time.

I've always been a true believer of the running credo "travel light, travel fast." Go into a local running emporium (when I go to the one in my town, I feel this way...) & no doubt you'll see the latest & greatest accessories coming down the pike targeting the entry-level runner. Some are "nice-to-haves." Others are a complete waste of money.

Three items, in my humble opinion, should be in the equipment bag of every runner - and carried along for every run - regardless of ability level. A caveat: If I mention a particular brand it's because I've had experience with their product, not because I receive any compensation.

Identification. There are a number of portable identification & information-sharing devices on the market, ranging from the simple dog-tag or wrist tag to the complex USB-capable data wristband. I haven't tried the newer USB drives, though. I've worn three RoadID devices in the past ten years & prefer their simplicity. The latest models from RoadID provide a web address or toll-free number for emergency personnel to access pertinent user data; even the simple RoadID models are easy to read & can make the difference between a running partner or passer-by knowing who to call in an emergency & a news story about another John Doe hit-and-run.

Carry Pouch. Apparel makers, like RaceReady, have made their mark in the running community by developing clothes for (longer) distance runners who need to carry important "stuff" like gels or electrolytes with them. I have shorts, & even a few running tops, from some of the major athletic wear/shoe companies like Brooks & Mizuno, which have pouches & pockets built in. But an item I first saw a couple of years ago at the Crescent City Classic expo really stands out:

Spibelt, based out of Texas, makes several small personal item carriers. My wife & I purchased one at the last Rock n' Roll event, with the addition of a toggle to secure our race number to the belt. Spibelt is small enough to be hardly noticed in public (much like a traveler's money belt); the pouch - from personal experience - comfortably holds an iPod Touch & a smart phone, plus driver's license, credit card, folding money, & won't flap on the run like a fanny pack. If you can fit it comfortably into a single jeans pocket, you can probably carry it in a Spibelt.

If you want to keep your phone separate from your credit card, there is a two-pouch Spibelt. Both single & two-pouch Spibelts come in a variety of colors (basic black for me, pink camouflage for Suzanne) & have an adjustable elastic belt with a strong Fastex buckle clasp...so it won't come off until you're ready for it to come off.

Cell Phone. In the past I recommended to RRCA clubs to have at least one person on a group run carry a photo-enabled cell phone. The smart phone's gadgetry is almost a "must-have" now; you can download applications which will help you find who has the GPS function turned on, search for information on the nearest public safety provider, & even request turn-by-turn directions in the event of disorientation. The things these phones can do now goes far beyond & thankfully can dovetail into what we could do in the past by just calling the local 911 service.

Even these & other good gadgets are no substitute for the common-sense practices of running with one or more other persons when possible, maintaining situational awareness at all times, & staying out in the great wide open (public) as often as possible. My wife & I learned a painful, mildly expensive lesson, but (fortunately!) we live to run another day.

Monday, April 6, 2009

When It's Out Of Your Hands

I've talked on one or two occasions about the challenge of remote-control coaching. My first reaction to the idea of having a coach who's not at the beck & call has always been, 'on-line or remote coaching is less than effective because coach so-and-so is not going to be available to you at 6:38p.m. on a Saturday one week out from your goal race.'
However, I also have had to be pragmatic about the whole d*mned coaching thing. I have friends in outlying areas (like Alberta, Canada) who developed a trust in what I knew about training & coaching from my own mistakes...okay, it's taken them seven years to know...and figure I might be able to help them achieve their running goals. Even with the trust factor nailed down, there's still a language barrier...it takes a few months of running workouts with me to know exactly what I mean when I use a particular term. Some of it has to do with my inability to communicate, some of it has to do with what I consider a mild speech impediment - after 30 seconds, the Charlie Brown filter of most people turns on.
What's the Charlie Brown filter? Remember the old Peanuts cartoons (A Charlie Brown Christmas, He's Your Dog, Charlie Brown, etc.), where the teacher or principal, or some adult is talking & everything is Wah wah, wa-wa-wa wah wah, wah, wah...? That's the Charlie Brown Filter.
It's nothing that surprises me. I do the same thing when people are yammering on & on & on...
Once I can get the basic language of coaching & training figured out between the remotely-coached athlete & me, usually limited to intensities & feedback structure, things seem to go well. I've been rewarded with knowing I was responsible for the successful completion of several half-iron & iron-distance triathlon events, a couple of Boston Marathon qualifications, & the like. It's the kind of stuff that, as Mark Twain said, allows me to exist for two weeks.
This weekend has me taken care of for the next month:
My friend Betsy completed her first Ironman 70.3 in New Orleans yesterday. I remember one of my first triathlons just up the road in Perdido Key, near the Alabama state line; we both succeeded in getting ourselves hung up in the same marker buoy on the swim portion of the triathlon. I slowed to a stop, took a look back to shore and proceeded to freak out for ten seconds, thinking 'OMG, I am SO freaking far from shore this is not funny.' Betsy, on the other hand, was so seriously hung up in the line she needed assistance from one of the water safety guys. Swimming has been her most difficult discipline, and I've been close at hand to watch her progress.
What impressed me most was not so much that she finished the 1.2-mile swim in Lake Ponchartrain - which would have been a major accomplishment in and of itself - in an hour & 30-something minutes (CORRECTION: One hour, thirteen minutes. MB). It was the fact she took the time during that particular swim to help a woman who was in a panic over her own personal wardrobe (okay, wetsuit) malfunction.
From what Betsy mentioned, the woman's Velcro tab at the neckline had either come off or been taken off or had failed altogether, leaving her with the risk of having a lot of Lake Ponchartrain come into her suit. So, Betsy assisted in getting this woman to a safety kayak & helped her work the issue through. Sometimes it's the comfort by which we are comforted we are most able to provide to others. Even I don't think I would have done anything like that, not on the day. Well, perhaps. I'd like to think I would. Well, perhaps it was passing forward what I did last October on Santa Rosa Island, when I stayed close by during the swim because of her foot cramp. I then passed her along to another kayaker to shepherd to shore as I went back to watch for others.
I was more impressed at the fact she ran her half-marathon only a few minutes slower than I did mine during my half-iron last year. Kudos to you, Betsy! I told you you'd have a good day if you got the nutrition down pat.
Cheryl is working on a 22K/half-marathon training program after having baby number two (cutest little girls; something to be said about genetics). Rather than pushing her out onto a track to hammer out intervals & tempo pieces, I've adapted my workout to let her do them on treadmill so she can be mama & train. Yesterday was her first long run outdoors in a long time, in which she did 7.5 miles at right around 10-minute pace. She said there were no worries, no discomfort, & she was planning to do more long days on the road rather than the treadmill. She's got a few more months to her goal events, but the start is auspicious...and her coach is stoked.
Sometimes the genius lies within the athlete, not the coach. We only try to pull it out. Kind of like Glenda, the Good Witch from The Wizard of OZ. And if any of you ever call me Glenda...