Superior Man Tri - Spectator's Report

I have to say, it's a rather daunting task attempting to chronicle the epic achievements of your fellows.   That is my excuse for sitting this long on my report from Superior Man Tri.   For those not in the know, a few weekends ago a large group of the local tri group went up to Duluth to pit themselves against the rigors of a half Ironman distance triathlon.   A half is no joke -- 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike and a 13.1 mile run.   It's a crazy thing to do at the best of times, and this particular day was brutally hot.

The day before - bright eyed and bushy tailed

The day started innocently enough, the rented condo bustling with energy long before the sun rose for the day.   I know everyone must have set alarms, but I doubt anyone could sleep well enough to need them.   It is an interesting experience to be on the outside looking in at the pre-race rituals of over a half dozen people preparing themselves for a day of endurance and suffering.   There are things you learn about your friends in such a time, that you would never know else-wise, and perhaps don't really need to know at all.   It's a fact that triathletes (and presumably many endurance athletes in general) are unabashed about their bodily functions -- this was certainly on display that morning.   I haven't seen someone that excited about pooping since I last saw a toddler in the midst of potty training.   I'm reasonably certain the only competition that anyone *really* cared about was who used the bathroom the most.   

The winner!

Once bathroom issues had been resolved, we relocated to the arena that was hosting the transition area.   The walk there afforded us a view of the harbor in which my friends were to swim - the water that had been glass smooth the night before was now choppy and rough, not quite white-capped, but trying its best to get there.   This, combined with a distinct lack of visible buoys was disconcerting to the group, and seemed to weigh heavily on them as they went to prepare for the start.

The first wave heading out

Superior Man has as their "hook" a rather interesting start.   They bundle the swimmers onto a boat and then take them out into the harbor and drop them in.   This sounds a bit more impressive than it ends up being in reality, but the swim is pretty neat regardless.   As a spectator, the course offers a rare chance to see your people in action, as it loops along the side of the harbor wall.   From my place at the turn, I saw numerous racers stop to wave at their family and friends - including our very own Megan and Randy.  

Choppy

I didn't see most of our folks come out of the water, as I had positioned myself at the bike out to try and get some good shots of people as they headed out to battle the wind for a few hours.   While waiting, I got to see numerous people fall or nearly fall getting on their bikes.   There are at least as many ways to get on a tri bike as there are riders, but I remain convinced that slow and steady wins that race.   When I wasn't dodging bikes, I got a few pictures, but I sadly had forgotten my tripod, so it was hard to get a zoomed in shot that wasn't blurry.   And, naturally, my camera's battery died just as Ann came out, so I missed her completely.    Fortunately, I had time to go back to the condo to get my backup camera for the rest of the day.  

Dave headed out

I overheard some folks talking about how triathlon isn't a great spectator sport.  It's hard to argue with that, at least from the perspective of someone without access to a helicopter.   I had a quite a lot of time to kill between the start of the bike leg and when folks started trickling back in.   It was during this point in the day that the heat really started to build.  Determined to get pictures of people on their bikes, I stayed put at the bike in spot despite its lack of shade to try and get some good shots.   Sadly, this was not as entertaining as usual, as the course had a rather sharp turn prior to the dismount point that forced the riders to slow down more than they would normally.   As a general spectators tip, if you are looking for giggles at a tri, I suggest any point that involves people getting on or off their bikes.   

Megan riding like a boss

As it happened, my spot was also on the loop for the run, so I was able to camp out and take pictures of the earlier folks running whilst waiting for the last of the bikers to come in.   Waiting, at this point, had become a little nerve wracking, as by my rough estimation, our last two riders were long overdue.   As I waited with 2/3s of the relay team, which included one of the missing rider's husband, we became concerned.    Finally, though, they came over the hill together, much to our collective relief.   Off the relay team went to see what had befallen our riders and I stayed to take pictures of the runners now nearing the end of their first seven miles on the run.  (We would later find out that Lori got a flat on the course, and Ann had stopped to help her out.)

Relief

As I said, the heat had definitely kicked up a notch by this point (96F+ with "feels like" temps much higher), but worse, the wind had died down considerably.  As runners passed by, it was clear that people were hurting.   Even our indomitable athletes were showing the strain as they came by, one dropping clothing, others struggling to manage a smile for the camera.   That they were running at all was astounding to me--the heat was getting to me and the most strenuous thing I was doing was clapping.  

Toasty

The most impressive part of the day, for me, was watching as people came up the last corridor, exhausted, pushed to their limits and beyond, but smiling.    If you are interested in a good kick to the feels, the end of a race is a good place for it.   It is here that people join together to gut out those last few meters, strangers, friends, and strangers who are your friend, if only for the moment, giving each other the strength to cross the line with head held high.   Sometimes they are side by side, sometimes they are sprinting to see who can beat whom, but there is a great atmosphere of sportsmanship and camaraderie.   

Afterwards, it was interesting to the process of "coming down" from the race.   For some, it involved vehement oaths of never doing such a thing again, followed fifteen minutes later by equally fervent vows to do better next time.  There was disappointment and elation at the times posted, and rejoicing in the simple act of finishing.  In fact, every person we brought crossed the line - a feat made all the more remarkable by the high number of DNFs recorded that day.   To a one, they persevered and, for those of us watching, presented a formidable display of the best of this crazy sport of ours.    

Congrats folks -- you rocked it!