Penticton Challenge Tri 2017 — Race Report

Saba El-Hilo
Jul 28, 2017 · 8 min read

First Triathlon of the year done and done! It’s been a later start to the season than I would’ve liked. An earlier triathlon I had registered for was cancelled due to the devastating flooding we experienced in interior BC. We arrived to Penticton a few days before the race so we had the chance to lounge by the lake(s), check out an incredible used book store, antique stores, and fully experience living out of a van. It was a really great trip.

Whaley the Van

The triathlon took place in beautiful Penticton on Sunday July 23rd 2017, it was an incredibly hot day and since I was racing the Olympic distance we started quite late (8:00 am). The sun was full and blazing with all its might by that point.

The mandatory athlete briefing was the day before the race as it is standard for most triathlons I’ve previously participated in. However, what was unique to this briefing was the amount of last minute changes the organizers had decided to make. As a person who obsesses over the athlete guide and reads it over and over to make sure I have all the details right, this made me very nervous. There were changes to the bike course, to the way we had to transition, to the transition area, and remarks about how we had to start on the wrong side of the road for the beginning of the bike course.

Race Reddy after the Athlete Brief

Putting all that at the back of my mind on race day, I checked my bike in and realized no one was following the transition instructions we were given at the briefing. We were told to put our transition gear in two separate bags, a run bag and a bike bag and to make sure we put everything back in the bag as we transition. Instead, everyone’s gear was just out by their bikes, I did the same and crossed my fingers that I wouldn’t get into trouble.

I squeezed myself into my wet suit and headed to the water for a warmup. the conditions were perfect, the lake was calm, the sun was shining and the water was quite warm at 21C.

My superhero outfit

I stood on the beach with all of the other 66 athletes waiting to start, humming Sabotage by the Beastie Boys under my breath trying to think of anything but what was coming up. Only learning how to swim last year, the swim is still my absolute least favourite leg and my weakest sport by far. I’ve always experience anxiety attacks in the open water and until very recently every time I go out, I tense up and all I can think of is “I’m going to drown or get eaten by a shark and die, the end” (yes I know there’s no sharks in lakes).

The countdown was over, and we all jumped in at once. There was a brief moment of absolute chaos, flailing limbs, thrashing arms and the occasional calm swimmer doing the back stroke. I was kicked in the ribs a few times, my toes grabbed a handful of other times, and one person rolled over me. But unlike my pervious experiences where I stick my head up, panic and yell “get me out of here NOW”, I kept my head down and one stroke at a time the mass of people separated into groups. I luckily found myself in no mans land between two of the groups, I ended up swimming most of the course shoulder to shoulder with another gal. It was glorious.

Here we go!

A friend of mine whom I also work with, an incredible athlete told me the secret was “to have fun with it, powerful fun” (thanks Erin!). Thinking about the swim in that context really helped me a lot, it was a huge PR for me, but most importantly I wasn’t frazzled and petrified at the end. I jogged out of the water feeling so great, with a ridiculous smile.

The transition was pretty quick, although the athlete guide states that there would be wet suit strippers this was not the case. Nevertheless, the volunteers were incredible, cheered us on and guided us to the start of the bike course.

Starting on the wrong side of the road was very weird. There were riders on both sides of the lane as it seemed like there was confusion to which side of the lane you should ride on. Volunteers were on the left side of the lane handing out water and gels, so a lot of riders were passing on the right. Just like the swim, the first 500m was chaos. Unlike the swim though, this could’ve been quite dangerous. I stuck to the right side and apprehensively settled in my aero bars looking forward for us to cross over to the regular side of traffic.

The course itself was challenging with a few big hills and heat but I knew what to expect. I rode the course at the (Coach Powell) training camp earlier this year, and a few other times after that. For the past few months I’ve spent most (if not all) my climbing workouts on my road bike. This was a mistake, I should’ve spent more time climbing on my TT bike as I found some the hills considerably more challenging than I normally would on my road bike.

My pretty bike

This was a no draft triathlon, but every time I had a chance to look back I’d see someone right on my wheel. I’ve never had this experience at a triathlon before. To make things worse, after (what I am assuming) they’d draft for a while they would aggressively pass me and sit right in front of me as if offering me a draft, forcing me to slow down. It was frustrating, and the man at the top of one of the hills yelling “get on that train” probably didn’t help things.

The bike leg is my favourite and it’s where I can make up the most amount of time for my slow swim. I’m always sad when it ends and I have to run. Heat exhaustion was starting to set in and even though I drank my whole bottle on the bike I was very thirsty and my lips felt really chapped and painful. My transition was slower than usual but I managed to get my things and stumble onto the run course. I saw my husband Brent, cheer me on and yell bunny butt, which usually gets me to smile but I was so out of it I think I just grunted at him.

Run Transition

The run course went along the waterfront and one of the restaurants has a digital sign with the temperature on it. It read 35C, and the sign was in the shade. I really wish I didn’t see that because just knowing that made feel even more exhausted by the heat. I started out at a good pace but my heart felt like it was going to explode, my head started spinning and my body was not responding to the heat well at all. I ended up stopping and walking though all four of the water stations, as most people did. I couldn’t have finished without doing that.

I’ve never seen so many people walk the run course before, it was very demoralizing and it took every ounce of will to not just walk, but I knew if I did there would be no way to start running again. I died with envy of the one lady I saw with a camelback. As I ran back across the restaurant with the sign, the reading was up to 37C. It was an inferno.

I sprinted the last 500m to the finish line, with another ridiculous smile. At that point I was higher than a kite, my brain had turned to a melted puddle and I’m pretty sure I saw unicorns fly over the finish line. The adrenaline rush with finishing a race that you know you gave it your all is hard to describe. It’s a feeling of elation and bliss, followed by extreme fatigue and intense emotions.

The ridiculous smile

I had zero expectations of how I performed with comparison to the field, as I didn’t really hit any of my pace expectations. After the swim I knew I passed a few ladies on the bike, but I didn’t see anyone with a white bib number (olympic distance) on the run. I figured I was way at the back of the pack since the run was so miserable and the swim was who are we kidding relatively slow. To my serious surprise, I was first in my age group and 5th woman to cross the finish line for the Olympic distance.

The awards at the end was the last of this event’s debacles. Instead of starting at 3pm like the athlete guide states, they decided to start at 2:30pm. Luckily we were close by the park were the awards would take place so we heard the announcement of this last minute change. Most of the other athletes didn’t and that was obvious by the small number of people there. Instead of recognizing this and waiting, the awards continued on.

The awards were rushed, uninspiring and to my surprise they were only handing out age group prizes for the long distance race and only top finisher prizes for the Olympic and Aquabike. This really upset me because again (starting to feel like a broken record) the guide states that age group prizes were to be handed out for all three races. Why the sudden discrimination between the three races. We later received an apologetical email with a promise of mailing us the age group awards for the olympic and aquabike races. What a mess.

Regardless of all these organizational mishaps, the race was still a ton of fun, the volunteers were so incredible and the people who made it out to cheer us on were so great. Seeing my other two Coach Powell team mates there was also really great, fun and inspiring.

I learned a few things from this race:

  1. It’s very likely that your suffering from the conditions isn’t unique at all
  2. Confidence and perspective can tremendously help, and be incredibly empowering
  3. My pink Betty Designs Tri suit never fails to attract attention, compliments and the motivating “Go Betty” yelled at me

All photos taken by Brent O’Hagan -> @brentohagan

Saba El-Hilo

Written by

Senior Data Engineer — Mapbox

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