The pre-race talk said that for best results, get to transition early, get set up and get to the bus that will take you to the pier to board the boat that will take you to Alcatraz. Its not that complicated in real life. I did as I was told, got there at 4am, was on a bus by 4:30, and sat at the pier with a bunch of other freezing cold, anxious triathletes until they let us on the boat at around 6am. Some warming barrels would have been nice...what am I saying?!?! Escape is NOT for the feint of heart or one easily dismantled by a little cold weather!
I had been told that once on the boat it would be "standing room only" - it was not that bad. We weren't crammed in like sardines or anything similar. I found a spot on the floor to sit and stretch and "relax" as much as I could - sitting next to me was a regular guy who had done the race 7 years in a row - he was good to talk with. They gave us a time countdown starting from an hour out, and at 6:15am, just as promised, we were under way.
The boat steamed out to the island, and circled around a bit once it was just off the eastern tip.
Once it settled in to a spot we were about 200 yards off of the Rock, dead even with the long
side that faces San Francisco - no cheating allowed for swimmers today! (
Diana took this great pic on her way to the venue from the hotel - this is looking out from the Aquatic Park, and swimmers are in the water...) Everyone was zipped up and ready to go, and standing at the windows looking for the pros to start. 40 year-olds and up were on the second deck, as we were the last wave to go. When the pros jumped off, you could feel the boat list a little bit closer to level.
The armada of kayakers had formed an alley in which to swim - designed to keep folks from swimming too far off course in either direction. We had been told to swim to the piers at Ft. Mason - three long yellow buildings difficult to miss when sighting. The kayakers must not have gotten this briefing as the alley was pointed much more towards the Golden Gate Bridge, and when the pros took off, that's the direction they went. Someone, a minute or so after they left, realized the sighting error, and turned in the correct vector - and all of the swimmers in the front pack seemed to turn at the same time - it was pretty cool to watch.
Before we knew it, the 4 minutes between the pro wave and the 40-50 wave were up, yet we
were all still standing up stairs watching people jump in 3-at-a-time. We quickly headed down stairs and bottlenecked just outside the doors - this was when it finally became real to me. The brisk air back on my face, the cold steal deck on my feet - this is really it! Behind me, back at the door, a race volunteer motioned feverishly to go this way, so I did, and ran to a jump doorway that wasn't being used - I looked back once to see that I was one of the last off the boat, held on to my goggles and jumped in.
I broke the surface and was THANKFUL that I had taken the time to do two swims prior to this in Aquatic Park to get used to the temperature. "This isn't so bad" was my initial thought to the water temp, and off I started swimming in the direction of those long yellow piers. I had stashed my waterproof disposable camera in my wetsuit leg, but wanted to get a little momentum before pulling it out. When I finally did turn to check out my progress, I was pleasantly surprised at the distance I had put on that island. Turning back around - reality check - there was still a bunch of water between me and shoreline.
Hey, I'm a back of the pack swimmer. I exasperated that by stopping to smell the roses and
take some pictures along the way. I wasn't going to tear up the course or impress anyone with my times or splits - but I think I was getting some kayakers a bit worried. I had one right on my tail for a while, and one was on my "Bridge side" for nearly all of the swim (
in this picture, you can see the gold dome on the right side of the picture - it looks that small in real life too...). If you ever thought you'd be alone on this swim - forget it - I was never more than a couple of paddle pulls away from someone on a boat. I was surprised to see someone hanging on a kayak pretty early on in the swim, but it was cold, windy and the current was strong - the swim was very much mental. More than anything else, I think. If you are reading this getting ready to go do this race (lucky you), just keep your head in the game, and KNOW for certain that the safety folks will not let anything bad happen to you out there.
All my fooling around mid-swim cost me dearly in the end. Once you get past the 3 yellow piers, you are supposed to switch to the west and sight on the Palace of Fine Arts - a huge gold dome that is also hard to miss. The current is moving at about 5mph, across your swim path - as if the bay were a river heading out to sea. You are supposed to be at a point in the swim, once you are past the piers, that sighting on the dome will take you in to the swim exit. That's the plan, at least.
I'd sight, swim, sight again and be off to the west really quickly. At this point it was very cool to actually SEE the swim exit balloon, and the people on the stairs at the shoreline. Finally, the end was in sight. Unfortunately, it was going by me alarmingly fast. I was heading out to sea...
That thought entered my mind, and it was difficult not to panic. I looked around, and other than kayaks, lets just say it was not too crowded in my neck of the Bay. Start swimming hard, Bigun. "Splash, Splash, Splash" I looked up and the kayaker that had been shadowing me was now along side of me, protecting me from swimming under the Golden Gate Bridge (
this water shot of the Bridge was typical of our days in SF - fog covered the top of the bridge always). He pointed way to my left and said that I needed to swim in
that direction. Into the current? Yep. Ok - Swim hard, Bigun. At that point, I really, really didn't want to have to grab a kayak or be rescued by a jetski - but man that current was
moving! I stopped for a breather (I know, this is a looooonnng swim!) and watched as I lost 25 yards of beach drifting west in the current. Bigun, you have no time to rest. I put my head down and swam. On the beach, a volunteer was motioning me in, watching out for rocks, just for me. How awesome is that?!?! I could see that I would make the beach, however far away from the actual swim exit, and stopped swimming against the current and just made a bee-line for the beach. My hands finally hit sand; I stood up, and actually found the energy to run down the beach to the swim exit mats, crossing over in 45:02 - 1,400th out of 1,544 finishers. Pretty cool...
her lawlessness knows no bounds, posting unpurchased race photographs on her blog, violating copyrights and committing felony's left and right.
disguise this post in dreary recollection of training recaps in order to draw your attention from the photo to the right. I love this commercial, and over dinner tonight, Mrs. Bigun and I, like married couples tend to do, simultaneous said that the wicked cool rapper-dancer dude reminds us of Tri-Dummy. So, in an effort to either dispel any rumors or embrace them, this is an un-retouched photo of said rappers and a recent full-frontal of our fearless friend TD. Well, perhaps Ex-Friend. After he sees this.
done this kind of work before - like 10 years ago - the Bigun ain't no spring chicken anymore. It's all about perception - in a month or so, 6 lawns in a day will be replaced with 10 and it won't seem like any big deal. Hopefully. Good thing is that I don't feel like eating in that heat all day. I'm drinking a ton of water. And I'm getting a wicked farmer's tan.
race (we were instructed to stay to the left - it never did sit right with me through the whole run part of the race). At the 2 mile marker everything got familiar as we started heading up hill fast. Concrete Stairs? Doesn't' have the same foreboding sound as Sand Ladder, and shouldn't be as difficult, right? I guess...after the series of steps, the path continues to swirl upward while hoards of age groupers barrel down hill, all competing for a very narrow bit of foot-space. The concrete turns to dirt and becomes even narrower along the side of a hill with a great view of the bay and the Golden Gate bridge.
the beach. I got passed by a bunch of folks here - I'm not a very good downhill runner it turns out. My knees and quads were screaming at me, plus one of those mysterious aches in your ankle you just can't get to go away...know what I mean? Anyway, this long downhill section empties out onto the beach.
the wood exposed until you get higher up on the stairs (and more tired). 
they have at the sides of the Sand Ladder to help pull yourself up - it reminded me of my old wrestling days running stairs - I caught him at the top of the Ladder. Then I kept running, while most of us back of the packers were walking. I never saw him again.
but a suffer fest like usual. Down the final shoot, I was running fast enough to beat the older lady who at the last second decided that I wasn't going to beat her in - ya know, go ahead, but you are going to have to want it. She didn't want it bad enough and I felt her quit the last few steps. I tried to give it to her, really...
The event organizers, in their infinite wisdom, put a warm up run between the swim exit and the transition area. Considering that I shed all of my swim gear, donned an old pair of running shoes, stuffed everything into a plastic bag with my number on it, and then ran topless to my bike in 9:53 - you can bet it was not a mile run. Wet and shirtless in San Francisco on this day did not make for much of a warm-up, either. I highly recommend going the "shoe" route - if you ever do this race and think, "it's only a half mile, I don't need shoes for that..." - trust me, the running surface is brutal; you need the shoes.
all the workout on this ride. For the first 9 miles I was able to sit and spin up every grade. After the first 2 miles of flats, its all hills, up and down, until you reach Golden Gate Park. Heading back east into the park for the loop and half way point is the flattest part of the course and a place to regroup if you need it. I'll be honest - I was loafing and sightseeing on the bike. I'd see the same group of folks and we'd pass each other back and forth and talk it up a bit. It was a fun ride, at the same time, it was the hardest terrain I'd ever ridden on.
on the way out. I was right. The way back found me standing on climbs in places and riding past folks who were walking their bikes up the long, steep climbs. It was brutal, especially for a big Clydesdale Florida flat-lander. There's about 1,750 ft of climbing in 18 miles - but there is some beautiful scenery along the way. Once you poke out of the Lincoln Park area and head all down hill along the Great Highway you get a great view of the Pacific Ocean beaches and countryside. Volunteers and spectators are all over the course, it seemed like there was cheering at the top of every climb.
brakes - I could have gone faster, but with the fog and mist, I was chancing nothing. Plus, lets face it - I never ride fast descents like that - why push the unknown when a crash could hurt you badly and easily? I'm getting more cautious in my old age. There were quite a few crashes and lots of bloody chins, elbows and shoulders on folks I saw later on in the run. I got back into my comfortable aerobars for the final 2 miles of the bike, got my speed up to 21 and passed a few folks just to make me feel better. Hey! I still had an 8 mile run to go; a hilly run with sand and stairs and such! Diana was hitting me with cowbell at the turn into T2, snapping away with the camera and cheering me on. I finished the bike in 1:19:31 for an average speed of 13.5mph. This put me at 1,333rd best bike overall - stop snickering, you! I'm making some headway after the swim, at least!
The Swim
Once it settled in to a spot we were about 200 yards off of the Rock, dead even with the long side that faces San Francisco - no cheating allowed for swimmers today! (Diana took this great pic on her way to the venue from the hotel - this is looking out from the Aquatic Park, and swimmers are in the water...) Everyone was zipped up and ready to go, and standing at the windows looking for the pros to start. 40 year-olds and up were on the second deck, as we were the last wave to go. When the pros jumped off, you could feel the boat list a little bit closer to level. 
were all still standing up stairs watching people jump in 3-at-a-time. We quickly headed down stairs and bottlenecked just outside the doors - this was when it finally became real to me. The brisk air back on my face, the cold steal deck on my feet - this is really it! Behind me, back at the door, a race volunteer motioned feverishly to go this way, so I did, and ran to a jump doorway that wasn't being used - I looked back once to see that I was one of the last off the boat, held on to my goggles and jumped in.
take some pictures along the way. I wasn't going to tear up the course or impress anyone with my times or splits - but I think I was getting some kayakers a bit worried. I had one right on my tail for a while, and one was on my "Bridge side" for nearly all of the swim (in this picture, you can see the gold dome on the right side of the picture - it looks that small in real life too...). If you ever thought you'd be alone on this swim - forget it - I was never more than a couple of paddle pulls away from someone on a boat. I was surprised to see someone hanging on a kayak pretty early on in the swim, but it was cold, windy and the current was strong - the swim was very much mental. More than anything else, I think. If you are reading this getting ready to go do this race (lucky you), just keep your head in the game, and KNOW for certain that the safety folks will not let anything bad happen to you out there.
moving! I stopped for a breather (I know, this is a looooonnng swim!) and watched as I lost 25 yards of beach drifting west in the current. Bigun, you have no time to rest. I put my head down and swam. On the beach, a volunteer was motioning me in, watching out for rocks, just for me. How awesome is that?!?! I could see that I would make the beach, however far away from the actual swim exit, and stopped swimming against the current and just made a bee-line for the beach. My hands finally hit sand; I stood up, and actually found the energy to run down the beach to the swim exit mats, crossing over in 45:02 - 1,400th out of 1,544 finishers. Pretty cool...
packed to the gills with cool stuff. One of those cool things is my Barracuda Hot Head bright red lined neoprene swim cap. Adjustable chin strap too. 
