Race Coverage

"...Bemidji...Always a Special Place..."

Friday, 24 July 2015 00:10

By Ryan Wippler

PAUL BUNYAN TRIATHLON RACE REPORT - Race Day: I was feeling a bit beat up still from Granite Man Clear Lake, but the only bummer of the day was that due to road construction we were not able to run past the giant Paul Bunyan and Babe statues.  That trivial disillusionment aside, Bemidji will always be a special place for me; I guess because I probably wouldn’t exist without it.  My parents met at Bemidji State, “the university on the lake”, as my late father, Patrick would reminisce.  Growing up I remember attending a myriad of fairs, festivals, 4th of July fireworks, parades, picnics, days on the lake-heck, even hockey camps, in this fine city.  [Fun Fact #1: my mother, Diane Wippler, was voted Miss Congeniality of the 1971 Miss Bemidji Contest.]  Although, the weatherman had threatened severe storms with damaging hail overnight, the early morning ambience at Cameron Park could have not been more agreeable with the sun rising and reflecting off Lake Bemidji bathing the triathletes in a warm morning glow as they busied themselves with transition setup.  Times like these make me forget about 3:45 a.m. wake up times followed by 2 1/2 hr drives.  Man, I love our state. ...

After a short pre-race meeting, the race began.  The lake was very shallow and I dolphin dived the first 50 meters.  Once the water depth was adequate, I started stroking and found myself sharing the lead aside Adam Drahos.  He pulled ahead and I thought sweet, I’ll draft this guy and save a bit of energy for the bike.  That conception was short-lived, as even in his wake, I found I could not keep up with his ruthless pace.  By 200 meters, he had a commanding lead.  Another swimmer pulled aside me, Don Henderson I believe.  Well, if at first you don’t succeed…  …TTA, right?  More like SSDD!  Actually, SSSD!  I could not keep up with him either.  What do they put in the water in Bemidji?  These guys are frickin’ ridiculous.  Feeling a bit demoralized that even with a 30-40% drag reduction with toe chasing I was not able to hold onto these guys’ wakes.  Any notion of drafting was dead.  I’ll have to catch them on the bike.  Other than zig-zagging a bit, the rest of the two loop swim went off without a hitch, albeit with more energy expenditure than anticipated.  

After an uneventful T1, I was soon settling into a strong and steady spin, aiming for even power output and roughly 25mph average goal for the 20 miles.  At about 3 miles in, I caught up with Don, but could not even seen Adam in the far distance until about mile 9.  I slowly started to real him in, using land marks up ahead to gauge my pursuit.  At the turn around, roughly mile 12, I was about 0.33 miles behind.  It was at that point that the wind I did not know existed demonstrated its dominance of the rolling landscape.  I lowered my head, got as aero as possible, and continued the grind, looking up only to spot the road ahead for obstacles.  My quads were on fire, sweat was collecting on the inside of my visor (I hate that) obscuring my vision, but, despite my effort, at mile 15 I had made up little of the deficit.  That was also the point where the sprint racers merged with the olympic course.  I soon lost Adam completely in the crowd, and tried to convince myself that it mattered not, my best was yet to come, in the run.  I continued to push my legs picking up my effort a bit, flirting with that point where metabolism shifts so much blood from the gut that it can no longer disgust even simple sugars/gels.  Refluxing tasty Gu gels, were not so good the second (and third and fourth) time I swallowed them down.  Before I knew it I was slowing down for T2, and jogging my bike to my transition location.

I quickly swapped shoes, grabbed shades, race belt, and metronome.  Right out of T2 there was a 45+ degree uneven loose dirt trail that brings racers from lake to street level.  It was only about 30 feet elevation, but with no lateral support racing flats, smoked quads, and fumbling with race belt, sunglasses, etc, I just about rolled an ankle and tripped over an unsuspecting sprint racer.  Once at street level, it was game time.  I was pushing the pace despite knowing that I should ease into the first mile, but I could not see Adam anywhere.  I reasoned he could only be 60 sec ahead after the bike, so at best he should be 0.2 miles ahead on the run.  He wasn’t there.  Was it possible that this mer(maid)stud of a swimmer was a stallion just finding his stride?!  $#@%!  I kept pushing the pace hoping that I would spot him over the next hill or around the next bend, but alas it was not to be.  My situation was what it was.  It took little convincing as I moved through the environment with speed, admiring scenic Lake Bemidji and taking in the serene surrounding forrest, that second place does not suck.  With that in mind, I soon came upon the the aid station at mile 1.5.  The nice young girls offered water, I politely declined, mumbling something inaudible about needing to throw up, and then asked, “How far ahead is he?”  They said, “Who?”  I said, “That guy way ahead.”  Then they said, as I passed out of ear-shot, “There is no one up there. It’s just you.”  Their words took about 100 meters to sink in as I continued my sickening haul.  Lack of blood to the brain?  I looked back over my shoulder at the girls, who I imagined were now giving me quizzical looks as if to ask/state, “That moron didn’t even know he was winning?!”  Regardless, (Irregardless, if you are fellow triathlete and friend, Dr. Ryan G.-you know who you are) I was elated.  I looked again over my shoulder and could see no one for at least 0.33 mile.  My quick street math equaled at least a 2 min buffer.  I brought down my pace a bit and enjoyed the cruise to the finish line.  I offered words of encouragement to Adam and the other competitors as I met them after the turn around.  I hi-fived a new friend, Andrew Jirik, from Iowa State University, who I believe won his age group-way to go Adrew!  

I understand this in an impossibility, but I hope everyone gets to experience leading a race at some point in their life.  It’s an exhilarating experience, that is difficult to put into words.  Its the momentary manifestation of all of our training, preparation, experience, and luck(!) expressed in an electrifying spiritual-yet corporeal form during the heat of competition…let’s just call it awesomeness.  I wish everyone to experience the awesomeness.

After the race, I spoke with Adam.  Apparently, I had passed him right before T2.  My wife is (always) right, triathletes all look the same.  

[Fun fact #2: I drink more coffee than anyone I know.]  I thought winning the Paul Bunyan Triathlon oversized 1st place trophy-mug, (which allows for subtle everyday bragging (as I sip my daily ration of 2L of coffee at work) whereas a plaque or trophy would be less socially acceptable to carry around and eat off of or drink out of;) would be the highlight of the weekend.  The true zenith of the weekend was at the St. Cloud Rox Baseball Breast Cancer Awareness Game on Sunday, sponsored by Centers for Diagnostic Imaging and the American Cancer Society.  There I got to spend time with the most important women in my life while raising money and awareness for breast cancer, my beauty queen and breast cancer survivor, Mom-from whom I draw inspiration and courage from daily, the love of my life-my brilliant beautiful wife, Phuong, and our little daughter to be, who’s name is a secret.  You wouldn’t believe who they let throw out the first pitch…

 RESULTS

Photo Above R - We found this art on Jas Carlson's FB page. It has absolutely nothing to do with this post, but we liked it, so, for grins, we included it here.