From XL to XTERRA…to Tagaman

What started in November finally rolled around to last Saturday as John and I met upon the sand of Micro Beach for the start of the 2005 XTERRA Saipan Championship, but even with all of the training and planning, there’s just no accounting for the unexpected.

We got all suited up, wished each other luck, as it began to sink in that we were on the beach with about 160 people and just moments away from our assault upon our toughest challenge to date.

Five months of training came down to the final minute before the cannon sounded the start of the race, but just after the announcer called the 30-second warning before the swim phase my goggles broke.

It was like a scene from one of my worst dreams. I was almost in shock as I stood there with the broken eyepieces in my hand, but the canon’s retort brought me back to the reality that I could either shake it off and swim blind, or not do the swim.

It was nothing short of horrific. I couldn’t freakin’ believe that after all of the training, writing, and wearing spandex that I was going to DQ because of these freakin’ goggles—and I wasn’t thinking “freakin’.”

So, off goes the boom and I walk into the water with a feeling of utter disgust as people—actually I mean everybody— gets out in front of me. I wasn’t going to quit, and I would have done the doggie paddle if I had to, so I tried to tie the strap to the eyepiece and gave it a shot. The darn thing filled with water in the right eye cover as soon as I took my first stroke. I let the water out and tried again—same thing. This happened three or four times before I said to myself, “Screw it. I’m gonna try this one more time, and if it fills with water I am going to do the whole freakin’ swim with my right eye closed.”

I lowered the strap on the back of my melon and miraculously there was nary a drop that entered—but man did it hurt like Sun F. Beach Sheet.

Pain or not, at least I was able to swim without being blind—mostly. With that taken care of, I still had to catch up with somebody so I wouldn’t be the last in the race. With the goggles fogging over like car windows at inspiration point, I paddled my way into a frenzy hell bent on drafting off of somebody. I could barely make out which way to go, but as I rounded the second of the two race buoys curiosity took over. I had to see how far back I was, so I took a peek ahead, and the pack didn’t seem too far ahead. I took the glimpse one step further by looking to see if the leaders were catching up yet, and to my delight, I noticed that I passed a bunch of people. I was pretty pumped by that, and continued toward the beach at a pretty good clip.

The roar of the crowd grew louder the closer I got to the beach, and through the foggy lenses I could just barely see that there were a lot of people down there cheering on the swimmers as they made their way across the sand and plunged head first into their second lap.

Above all of the cheers, I could hear the announcer call my name and a few “Go Brads” from friends as I trudged out of the blue, onto the sand, around the orange flags, and back into the water for the second 750-meter lap.

They say it’s always better the second time around, but I don’t think that “They” were talking about the XTERRA swim. It wasn’t so bad, and I passed a bunch more people in the water while receiving some encouragement from the PIC Clubmates who patrolled the course atop their surfboards. I heard a definite “C’mon Brad” when I took a break to see how I was doing amidst the pack, and it made me hurry back to the swim until I reached the beach.

I was so happy to get into the final stretch of the swim because I was no longer fighting the current, and I was able to relax and think through my steps when I would hit the beach and run to the transition. Well, when I got to the sand, the first thing I did was to pry the goggles from my face and take off the neon green swim cap from my dome mid-stride en route to my trusty two-wheeled machine from Romey at Saipan Bike Pro.

When I got to the bike I stepped on my towel, strapped on the new clip-in shoes, Camelback, helmet, and donned the gloves before running out of the transition to start the bike course.

What a great feeling it is to be amidst a group of people struggling to get ready for the next discipline. It was truly invigorating. While I was putting on the gloves I heard the announcer say that John had just finished the swim, and within a couple of seconds I saw him running through the lane and tag Max Simian for the bike leg of their relay.

Max got out of T1 a couple of seconds before I did, and we were off. I know if John hadn’t busted himself up that he would have been right there getting ready for the bike, but I know he’ll be ready next time.

When I got onto Micro Beach Road I could see someone jumping up and down and cheering. As I got a little closer I could see that it was my friend and sponsor Kathryn Barry with a big PowerAde banner that had “Go Brad!” in the middle of it. Man, how could I not be fueled by that? It was great to see.

From there it was an uphill journey toward Navy Hill, and my legs were feeling great. I didn’t try to go out at a Superman-like pace, but rather opted to the tried-and-true cadence from training. The climb was great, and I cycled through the gears to make the most of my momentum and maintained a high rate of pedaling as I passed a few hard-chargers on the way to the turn off point.

On the way I saw a few people I knew, and it was great to exchange hellos and goodbyes before reaching a short single track. The bike was going just as planned, but when I got to a part where I had to dismount I fell over because I couldn’t get out of the clip-in pedals.

That was not fun, but I was so pumped up that I didn’t feel a thing. I got back up and continued down the trail until making my way to the top of the Wireless Ridge portion.

Along the way I received some more encouragement when I passed some highly motivated volunteers who told everyone to “Keep up the good work” and “Way to go”. It was definitely uplifting, and I didn’t remember it until just now, but I did the same thing last year when I was taking pictures of the athletes. It was almost like a reflex to support the triathletes because you could see the pain in their faces, and it was the least a guy could do to cheer them on.

Well, this time around I can attest to the power of the volunteers, and what a great job they did for me, and probably everyone else on the course.