Tips for fast triathlon transitions

There are people in triathlon who glide like porpoises through the water. Fly along the bike course, quads firing hard enough to power a small city. Blow past all mere mortals like a bionic gazelle on the run. They could probably put on a pot of chili in T1, bake some bread in T2, and still beat us to the finish line. Then there are the rest of us -- you know, people who started swimming after they had kids -- this is my clan. So, in addition to optimizing available training time to get as fast as I can, I pay close attention to opportunities for "free speed" in a race. There are all kinds of things you can tweak, such as your position on the bike, your helmet, bike tires/tubes and tire pressure, race wheels...  but perhaps the biggest place you can make easy and instant gains (without any cash outlay) is in transition. 

Get there early and choose your spot

Some races have assigned rack spaces, in which case you don't have a choice of where you set up. And all well-run races have transition areas set up so that all athletes have to travel the same total distance regardless of where they're racked. But in races where you can choose your rack location, arriving good and early isn't just good for the pre-race nerves, it can help you get an optimal transition spot. Though everyone has to run the same distance through the T-zone, you can weigh whether you'd rather run a shorter distance in your wetsuit, or a shorter distance with your bike. Perhaps there's a tree or other permanent (the "permanent" part is important) landmark that will help you find your stuff faster.

Arriving early assures a prime spot on the rack

Keep it simple and distance-appropriate

Regardless of your actual transition location, resist the urge to spread out like you're moving in. Depending on the length of your race, you probably don't need all of the stuff you think you need. For a shorter race, a cleaner setup is better to ensure speed and efficiency. For a longer race where you're maybe not so concerned with shaving seconds, you might prioritize comfort over speed. For example, in the photo below, you can see my transition setup for a half-Ironman. You definitely don't need all of that, but if it fits in your allocated area and it will make you more comfortable, some things are worth having just in case. If I could go back and change it, I'd eliminate the fuel belt -- there are plenty of hydration and nutrition options at the aid stations. However, I'd keep the Body Glide, the compression calf sleeves, the extra waffle and chews, and even the single-use "refreshing" cloth with essential oils and smelling salts. It was a long day for me, and sometimes the little things that help you feel better go a long way.

Ready for anything at Ironman 70.3 Mont Tremblant

Now, for a sprint or Olympic race, you can be a lot leaner in your transition setup. Skip stuff that takes time to put on -- bike gloves, compression gear, separate watches/computers. Do not bring a bucket, stepstool, or foot washing tray. Do not tie a balloon to the rack to facilitate finding your bike -- many races state they will remove anything extraneous from the racks before the race begins. Plus, if it gets detached or popped by accident and it's your only landmark, you're hosed.

What I keep in my transition area, Sprint or Olympic:

• small towel to put stuff on and stand/wipe feet on
• running shoes and socks
• bike shoes
• sunglasses and/or hat
• bike helmet (for a sprint, I'll rest it on the bike between the aerobars... for an Olympic, that space is occupied by a hydration system)
• race belt and number
• a bite of food, usually part of a chocolate wafer -- and a bottle of sports drink to swig from to wash it down (this is typically for a sprint, where I don't carry nutrition or hydration on the bike)

Know where you put your stuff (no, really)

Don't just glance around and go "Yep, 2nd rack from the end. Check." Is that second rack from the end at the swim entrance? Or the bike exit? What does your approach look like as you're actually running through transition? At every race, I will walk from the swim in, to my stuff, to the bike out. Then I'll turn around, find my stuff again from the bike in, and walk from there to the run out. At the same time, you can confirm the surfaces you'll be running on between legs of the race. Grass? Sand? Asphalt? That might figure in to what you decide to do re. socks, shoes (pre-clipped to the pedals vs. on your feet), etc.

Be visible

There are all kinds of ways to make your transition spot more visible. I place my shoes and sunglasses on a small, brightly-coloured towel on the ground. Stand at the end of the rack and look toward your bike -- your towel shouldn't stick into the middle of the aisle, but you should be able to spot it pretty easily. I also carry my race gear in a bright yellow bag. Sometimes bags aren't allowed in transition... but when they are, it's a nice bright beacon (I push it to the back of my transition area, or beneath my bike). Still want a little more visual kick to help guide you? You could use wild handlebar tape, or a brightly coloured helmet. Just make sure to keep things contained -- don't abuse your rack space, and be respectful of your neighbours.

Bright gear is recognizable at a distance

Once you've decided what you want/need to have in your transition area, you'll want to lay it out such that you can put it on as quickly as possible when the time comes to do so. Consider the order in which you'll do things. The first thing you'll need to do is get out of that wetsuit...

Getting out of your wetsuit

This can be a big time suck if you haven't practiced, and aren't prepared... but there are lots of little tricks that can add up to big time savings. Consider trimming a bit off the bottom of your wetsuit legs -- if you're worried about wrecking your gear, consult the manufacturer's website as they'll usually state how far up you can trim. This can help make the suit easier to get off, and won't negatively impact the buoyancy. I haven't done that myself, mainly because my suit has super-stretchy panels in the ankles specifically to enable quick removal.

Before donning your wetsuit, apply Body Glide (or Trislide, or whatever you're using) liberally around your neck (this part is to avoid swimming "hickeys" from chafing), wrists, and ankles. I'd recommend against vaseline or cooking spray as lubricants, a) because I've heard they can damage neoprene, and b) because... well... it's kind of gross.

As you're running from the swim, unzip your wetsuit and yank it down to your hips. At some races, they have wetsuit strippers who will help get you out of your suit as soon as you exit the water. I've both used and bypassed this option... you have to decide whether it's worth your time to stop. Once you reach your gear, give a last hard yank to get your suit down as far as you can. Then step on it with alternating feet to pull your legs out.

Grab and go

While you're stomping yourself out of your wetsuit, you'll have time to put on your race number and helmet. When I can (i.e. when I don't have my hydration system taking up that space), I rest my helmet upside-down on the aerobars with my race belt either over or under it depending on how windy it is. Make sure the straps are open and untangled. Some people leave the race belt clipped closed, and step into it... of course, you have to wait till you're out of your wetsuit to go that route. And you have to trust yourself not to get tangled in it and fall down (which I do not). If I'm wearing sunglasses on the bike, I'll place them in my helmet with the arms open. 

Be very careful as you're hurrying in transition that you comply with race rules regarding helmets. At most races, if you forget to do up your chinstrap before mounting the bike, or if you unclip it before dismounting, you risk disqualification.

Race belt and helmet at the ready for easy access

Now, let's deal with the feet. I like to leave a little area of towel, about as big as both my feet, empty so I can stand on it and wipe off any bits of dirt/gravel if required. Have your shoes open and ready to step into. If you're wearing socks, scrunch or roll them and place them into each shoe so you don't end up fumbling with them. I use bungee laces on my running shoes so I don't have to waste time tying them. 

Optimized for a fast change of footwear

If you wear a hat, sunglasses, sweatband, or other stuff on the run, place them together on your transition towel so you can grab them in one swipe. You can don all this stuff while you're running, no need to hang around in transition.

Make haste slowly

Remember that when you're in transition, your heart rate will be up, and your hands and legs may be a little shaky. Be deliberate and efficient, rather than scrambling.

Have any of your own transition tips? Leave a comment! :)

Race report -- Trimemphre Olympic Age-Group National Championship

July 25, 2015
1500m swim, 40k bike, 10k run
Magog, QC

Breakfast: most of an egg, a piece of lunchmeat ham, 1/2 french toast, 1/2 croissant, 1/2 whole wheat toast, 1/2 bagel with cream cheese, honeydew melon, OJ, tea

Tree covered in knitting, outside the Magog arts center

I've had notes kicking around for this post since July... it's now December. Time to get this done before 2015 is over. I don't really know why it's taken me so long -- this was my A race for the season, it didn't go as well as I'd hoped, and I had to sort through some mixed feelings about it. I raced as hard as I possibly could. I left absolutely nothing in the tank, and suffered pretty deeply during the race and afterward. I was completely satisfied that I gave it all I had. I didn't even look up my results until I was almost done my long drive home -- which is totally unlike me. ;) Qualifying for Worlds was a super-long shot for me this year. But out of all the comments I received after the race, "that's too bad" rang loudest for me. "What do you mean, 'that's too bad'?? I raced my guts out! This was only my second Olympic distance tri, I'm completely satisfied with my effort!" I thought to myself. Did some things go pear-shaped? Sure... but live and learn. In any case, onward. I'm really pleased overall with how my 2015 season ended up. I managed 1st in my age group and 3rd overall female in our local/regional Somersault Series standings. I'm ready to dig in to 2016 and continue to improve. But first, this overdue race report... it's a long one. Better grab coffee. And provisions.

Lots of athletes and spectators at this event -- carpet from swim run-out visible in the background

While my result at Magog wasn't a qualifying performance, it was an improvement over my other Oly result from Toronto last year (by where I finished in the field). I went into it with the perspective that I wanted to race my best race, and there wasn't anything I could do about how everyone else did. This was clearly a strong and experienced field -- everywhere I turned, there were kits with Team Canada or various sponsors emblazoned across them. Time to walk tall and get down to business.

Took a photo of this sea serpent for the kids

I arrived the day before, with plenty of time to do a quick swim, bike, and run before picking up my race package. I neglected to bring my MyFloat, so I left it to blind faith that my shoes and keys would still be on shore when I returned. The water was cool and clear, but the rocky bottom meant we had to tread carefully. My B&B was was an easy bike/walk from the race venue, and was peaceful and quiet.

Late Friday afternoon, clouds rolling through

Kelsey had invited me to dinner with her and some friends. Their AirBnB was a bit out of town, which gave me the opportunity to drive some of the bike course. This is by far the most technical course I have experienced. As I was driving along, I pondered the 90-degree turn at the bottom of a steep hill, and cursed the city planner who chose to put several stands of trees in the middle of a perfectly good, straight road. Having mentally tallied up several "omg..." and "wtf???" spots on course, I was ready for a glass of wine when I showed up for dinner. Bottle in hand, I cheerfully strolled up the driveway... of the wrong house. The gentleman who lived there assured me I was welcome to come back with the wine if I was unable to find the right place. Thankfully I got sorted in the end.

Wonderful view  (with deer flies the size of Volkswagens just outside the frame)

Manning (womaning?) the BBQ

Had dinner Friday with this lovely group

On race morning, I had a quiet breakfast and slowly made my way to the transition area. My start time wasn't until 1:40 pm... which felt odd, as I'm used to racing in the early morning. I tried to rest and find shade as much as possible while I waited, but race nerves meant I didn't eat anything for lunch. This would end up being a bad mistake. 

The decision to allow or disallow wetsuits came down to the wire -- in the end wetsuits were not allowed. I've only ever raced at Sydenham (200m in a super sprint) without a wetsuit, so that was new for me. My mantra for the swim was "Strong, Smooth, Straight". I wanted to emulate the feeling from Brockville last year. My plan was to start around the 2nd row on the beach, keep up with the strong swimmers as long as possible, and find some feet. I had practiced dolphin diving the day before, and when the gun went off I actually made some distance on those who started swimming right away. Bonus! I executed exactly to plan, felt great, and shaved 4:08 off last year's Toronto swim -- without the wetsuit. I'm not sure if T1 is figured into the swim or the bike, so I'm assuming the swim time as it's posted. 

Before -- looking chipper with Kelsey in the transition area

On the bike, I tried to emulate the effort from Sydenham while carrying it over a longer distance. Fuel consisted of swedish berries and almonds. Despite my impression from driving it the evening before -- and the fact that I witnessed someone being pulled from the ditch on a spineboard -- I actually found the course super fun to ride. I had heard from someone to add 10-15 minutes to your expected Oly bike split to account for all the turnarounds and crazy curves. That ended up right, with my bike split 10 minutes longer than TO (again, not sure where T2 falls into this). Felt strong though, and moved up 6 places from my position after the swim.

For the run, I tried to recapture the feeling from Toronto last year. "Leave the bike legs in T2, take new legs out onto the run." This is where the wheels started to fall off, unfortunately. That post-bike heavy legs feeling that normally goes away, just didn't this time. So I'd say most of the 10k was a full-on sufferfest. I had to walk up a bit of an obnoxiously steep dirt hill with my hands on my thighs to keep upright. Someone pulled up in a golf cart to ask if I was ok. I nodded and kept trudging... I think if I'd stopped my legs would have just buckled. I chugged gatorade at every aid station where it was available, but it didn't help. I tried to keep pushing, and actually passed some people which I found kind of crazy considering how miserable and weak I felt. In the end I moved up 2 more places in my AG. When I crossed the finish line, I made the mistake of stopping suddenly and bending over to take off my chip. Bad idea. Sort of lost control of my HR/breathing, got some bad shakes, and had trouble speaking anything intelligible. The medics sat me down to take my vitals and give me some water. Unfortunately while I was sitting, my hamstrings seized. Good times! Anyway, got fixed up by the on-site physios and started to feel better once I had some food and a couple of chocolate milks in me. 

After -- not so chipper, but finished

I think some of my run problem may have stemmed from nutrition/hydration. I ate at 9:30 a.m. and didn't race till 1:40 pm... I didn't have any appetite whatsoever and couldn't make myself eat anything between breakfast and the race. Just water, and a cappuccino an hour before my start for a little caffeine infusion. On the bike, I drank a full bottle of Skratch and ate a handful of salted almonds and swedish berries, spread out over the 3 laps. Gatorade on the run. Despite drinking on course and having water plus 2 milks afterward, I didn't have to pee till about 8:30 pm... and the next morning I noticed I was a lot lighter than usual. So maybe some dehydration issues. I didn't have any problems like that in TO last year, even though I ate and drank less, but it was a lot cooler at that race and it started very early in the morning.

I'm looking forward to taking another crack at qualifying for Worlds in 2016 -- right here in Ottawa! But even if it doesn't happen, as long as I get closer than I did last time, I'll be a happy camper. 

Podium overlooking Lac Memphremagog

Race report - Toronto Triathlon Festival, Olympic Tri

July 13, 2014
Finish time 3:04:50 (18th place AG)
Breakfast: instant apple/cinnamon oatmeal, tea, banana with peanut butter, water

Turlicious, the good-luck turkey

This was another weekend of firsts. My first Olympic distance triathlon, as well as my first time at the Toronto Triathlon Festival . The morning started with the weather looking threatening, and I had just enough time to get my transition area set up before the skies opened. Anyone not already in their wetsuit grabbed for it -- because all the Body Glide in the world won't make pulling a wetsuit onto wet skin suck less. We got a full-on soaker as we headed down to the swim start, which was delayed. I'd seen lightning, which may have influenced the hesitation to throw that first wave of folks into the lake.

After a chilly swim the day before -- cold enough to make exposed body parts ache -- I pulled both my swim caps solidly over my ears to keep as much water out as possible. As our wave jumped in, several ladies shrieked at the cold. I didn't find it too uncomfortable, but I heard a number of people ended up being pulled from the water. According to the same report, at least one person got straight back out after entering the water, quitting the race before even starting the swim. As we bobbed around waiting for the start, a fellow dipped some kind of device on a pole into the water between the swimmers and the dock. If this was where they were measuring the temperature, it explains why they got a 17 degree reading in water that felt much colder. Someone probably peed on the thermometer.

Women's 40-44 swim start

The start was uneventful, as athletes eased into getting their bodies moving and lungs working. Unfortunately the narrow course converged early at the first turn buoy. I got sandwiched between a couple of folks, and took a blow to the face that cut my cheek and knocked my goggles off. I was glad to have layered the strap between my two swim caps, so they didn't go far. Still took me a moment to empty the water and re-seat everything. Once out in the open channel, it got very choppy. Waves came over the breakwall, and breathing was best done toward the shore side -- especially on the away leg. I got passed a lot, and didn't have much luck finding or keeping feet. On the last half of the return leg, I started to encounter people having worse luck than I was. I passed a few breaststrokers, someone treading water, and another fellow clinging to a kayak. 

Around the final turn buoy, I made a beeline for the exit ramp -- ignoring the boat transoms and trying not to think about the careless graywater pumpout, spilled fuel, and other harbour staples that go with them.

This was not a good swim for me. I wasn't able to get into a decent rhythm, and didn't feel like I was making any kind of headway for the effort I was expending. 

Swim time: 42:48
T1: 3:02

Transition was more fiddly than usual, as I had my shoes stuffed in plastic bags to keep them dry. The steep ramp up to the mount line was made a little dodgier due to the rain, but I didn't see anyone wipe out in their cleats. A quick jaunt through the CNE grounds brought us out onto the Gardner Expressway. I soon heard "On your left!" -- but between the narrowed lane and potholes full of water, I didn't have much space to maneuver. Electing not to get run over, I hit a hole and my BTA bottle went flying. As I pulled over to stop, a nice volunteer grabbed my bottle and ran it up to me. I thanked her, and we commented on the minefield of gel wrappers and ejected water bottles that littered the road. I've never been at a race where people tossed so much garbage on the bike course.

We soon turned north onto the wide, smooth Don Valley Parkway, helped along by a generous tailwind. I had confidence in my bike's ability to handle the wet, and it didn't disappoint. Have you met my bike? Its name is River -- after the Serenity character. Graceful, beautiful, and a little twitchy... but kicks ass and has your back when the chips are down. Good bike, mine is.

Meet River

The turnaround at Eglinton came surprisingly quickly. I crouched down in aero and made myself as small as possible in the face of what was now a substantial headwind. The rolling course was more downhill than up on the way back, and before long I was back at the Gardner heading up the on-ramp. I'll spare you the details of my fight to get a waffle package open with my teeth at this juncture, but I will confirm that I failed to get this done before the headwind turned into a crosswind. I tried unsuccessfully to stuff the rest of the waffle into my trisuit pocket, and it seemed like I might be doomed to ride the rest of the way on the basebar with half a waffle in one hand. Finally crammed it into my bento and got back down to business. 

I was feeling good, and allowed myself to turn it up a notch on this last part of the course. "Left," I called as I moved to pass a couple of guys. Contrary to the stereotypical -- but thankfully rare, in my experience -- male response to getting chicked, the fellow closest to me said encouragingly "Yep, go ahead... go get 'em!!" It's amazing how energizing it is to have a fellow competitor root for you. Off I went. "Time to drop the hammer!" He called out as we crossed paths again on the last Gardner turnaround. The final hairpin turn into the CNE grounds was awkward, and I lost speed clipping out and being a little conservative on the wet pavement. I wound my way back toward the dismount line and shuffled down the ramp on my cleats, satisfied with my bike leg.

Bike time: 1:23:00
T2: 2:23

Thankfully, my running shoes had stayed snug and dry in their plastic bag. I saved some time in transition, electing to skip the visor and sunglasses. I did grab the last of my waffle and gulped it down on my way out. Made for an unflattering photo at the run exit, but what are you going to do. My legs felt good. I told myself I had new legs for the run... my bike legs were left behind. The run course down Lakeshore was great... I watched the waves come over the breakwall into the channel we had just swum in. The running path was scenic, and passersby out for their morning jog or dog walk smiled encouragingly at those of us wearing numbers. 

I felt great, and just gave it all I had over the 10k distance. I've never raced an open 10k before, nor one in a triathlon for that matter... but I had the first 10k of my half-marathon as a benchmark, and I beat that time by about 4 minutes. Shortly after I finished, the skies opened again. I let the rain wash away the sweat, Lake Ontario water, and Gatorade, then it was over to the tent for a massage -- the perfect way to end a great race.

Run time: 53:38

Mmmm, Hero burger!

Need a goalie mask for the swim next time