This weekend dealt me one of the most disappointing moments in my athletic career.  To cut to the chase, my teammate and my race at the Triple-T ended with a DNF.  My first ever, and I think his too.  We made it successfully through races 1, 2, and 3 – not as “fast” as when we did it last year -  Matt is in rock star shape, and my preparation wasn’t quite as well as I had intended – but in a better position placement wise.  Going into race four we appeared to be solidly in third, and within range of second if we had a great half.

The morning of the half dawned with me deciding to replace my rear tire after discovering a slow leak in it, and being a bit gun shy due to a leak in the front in Race 2, that didn’t make itself fully apparent until mile 20 of 24 – leaving Matt and I with a single communal spare.  The swim went well with Matt and I getting onto the bike as the first team.  We were passed shortly by the eventual Male Team winning team.  Their pass was a pass, but they definitely did not pass with authority.  Matt and I decided to stay with them and pace off them unless/until they dropped the hammer.

This worked splendidly, Matt doing most of the work, us staying within eyesight of them on the flats, ups, downs, twists and turns.  About 20 miles into the bike, Matt and I crested a small climb on a Fire Road, that dumps you out onto a small county highway, and then onto State Highway 125 and its monstrous “Nile Township Climb”.  A great part of the course for some strong riding due to the rolling terrain and the climb up 125 – as the downhill off the climb leads right into transition.  As we crested the hill I pulled in front to lead us down the descent.  About 15 feet down it, I hit either a divot the size of a basketball in the center of the road, or a large crack type feature on the side; between the speed I was traveling (~34), the angle, and luck, I launched through the air, hit the ground, skidded, tumbled, and generally scraped my body across about 30 feet of pavement, landing in the ditch.

My first reaction was to stand up and see where Matt was and say some choice words about how hard I’d have to work to catch up.  Then I started to asses my situation – I was basically bleeding  from all four limbs, left left shin, my right knee, right forearm, and left elbow.  Plus my back stung badly, and my right shoulder was oozing something fierce.

My bike came out mostly OK – the chain was tangle up something fierce, and my right aerobar extension bolt was snapped.  I wanted to continue, but between all the scrapes and scratches, and the welt that was growing on my knee – I didn’t know if it would be the best idea.  As Matt was working to untangle my chain, and he did a quick assessment of me – he called it for me.

While I knew he was right, accepting it was one of the hardest things I have had to do.  I felt like I was letting myself down, and harder to accept – letting Matt down.
So rather than ending our day with a strong ride, and a suffer fest of a run, it ended with an easy ride back to transition.

Ten hours removed (when I wrote this), I feel compelled to return next year as a solo or as a team to – I don’t know – redeem myself, I guess.  We were flying at the time of the crash – on pace for a 2:50 ride (11 minutes faster than last year) – awesome power 233 AVG/263 NP/19.7 MPH – and for the first time of the weekend, I felt strong.  It’s not that I failed, but that I need to test myself against this course again and see what I have in store for it.

On the bright side, I feel like I’m leaving this race with more then I left – a drive to better my preparation and have several successful races this year.  Hopefully – that drive will find a spot inside to grow and push me, but for now I’ll just settle for the road rash to stop stinging.