The 1995 Santa Rosa Half Vineman Triathlon was the site of the Troy-vs.-Clint Season Long Course Championship. It was the last of the long course events that Clint & I would meet at. We both trained intensely and specifically for this challenge. We referenced each other's past performances to gain insight for strategy. We focused on each other's week spots: Clint can clobber me on the bike, but I can make up the lost time on the run.

I've been worried since Clint's biking has only gotten better. In the '95 Wildflower, Clint didn't just pass me once on the bike, but, after fixing his flat, passed me again! At the San Jose Triathlon Clint posted the fastest bike split out of 600.. an amazing 28mph average! And at the Markleeville Death Ride Clint pulled through wind, ice & snow over 5 of the highest passes in the Sierras faster than most cycling teams did with their aerodynamic pacelines!

However, Clint, too, has seen great improvement in his adversary. At Wildflower I made up 8min on the run for a "come-back" win. At the Nor-Cal Duathlon, I ran 2 sub-18min 5k's to take 3rd place in my age. I set a new 10k PR: 36:53 (1-1/2 minutes off last season's PR). But probably most notable was the fact that I had beaten Clint in each race this season (although the last, San Jose Tri, was only by 9seconds).

Clint & I pulled everything together for this duel. We trained hard, ate right, tapered right and visualized our race strategies. This was the season highpoint.

We knew each one of us wanted this win badly, but also new that the importance was the friendly competition that we enjoy and train for. The sportsmanship was always present as we shared a ride to the race, got accommodations together, shared personal transition and racing tips, and encouraged each other to race hard and race smart.

At the swim start, in the small town of Guerneville, the sun was melting away the morning clouds and fog. At 8:30am, the whistle blows, and my wave (25-29) is sent thrashing up the Russion River. 8:35am, Clint, in the 2nd wave (30-34), begins the chase. I have a good 1.2mi swim and utilize drafting 50% of the time. At times the water is very shallow and some try walking or "dolphining" instead. It doesn't make much difference. The sun is very hot already and I feel my back heating up during the swim.

On the bike I realize the real chase begins. I'm certain Clint will make up the 5min difference, pass me, and continue putting more time between us. I figure if he gains 10min on me in the 56mi bike, I can still make it back in the 13.1mi run. Instead, I feel my intense training paying off. I'm riding faster, climbing better, and feeling more comfortable than ever before. I refuse to be passed... but still feel the inevitable presence of Clint, somewhere behind me, passing people with such conviction they concede to give chase, gaining minutes on me that he knows he'll need in the torturous run to follow.

Clint also had a good swim but started the bike with a tumble in the transition area when his cleat disengaged. With a quick fix of a crooked seat, he was averaging 24mph without much time lost. But he didn't see me. Not at 30mi, not at the "48mi Hill", not at the tracks at mile 54 where he said out loud, "Troy is having the bike of his life". He was right. I was averaging 23.5mph (compared to 22mph last year) and wasn't going to be passed.

The sun was now high & hot, buffered only by a gentle breeze. After a quick transition to the run, I realized my bike was so fast because I had used muscles higher in my legs. In other words, my butt muscles hurt like steak in a meat grinder! The run used different muscles, however, and I knew the pain will go away after a mile or so.

Clint was right behind me, less than 1-1/2 min. That meant he was actually 3-1/2min ahead, but I wasn't worried because I could easily gain that back in the run. I calmly executed my running plan: 7min pace, "Squeezy" carbo packets at 4,8, & 10mi, and some ibuprofen to keep my sore toe from acting up. At the turn-around I would check how far back Clint was and pick up the pace if needed.

At the run transition, Clint saw that I had held him off in the bike. He mentally conceded that I would win since the run was my strong point. I, too, was confident that this, my best race ever, would clench the victory I'd been waiting for. But Clint still gave it his all, knowing that a victory for either of us would be hollow if the other gave up. At the turn-around I knew I was doing great because I was ahead of fellow triathletes that usually were ahead from the start. Then I saw Clint! Only 2min behind (actually 3min ahead)! As we passed, we congratulated each other on the phenomenal race which was unfolding. Still, I wasn't worried because I felt good and trusted my training. I turned it up to 6:30 pace feeling that it was unlikely Clint could even hold the pace he was at.

After cresting a hill & coasting the backside, tragedy struck. A sharp pain in my stomach. I had to stop. This happened once before at the end of Wildflower and nothing neutralized it. In fact, it pained me for a week! I tried the breathing, stretching, & massaging which helps cramps but with no luck. My best race ever was not to be ruined, I would run through the pain. I tried, but instead buckled with pain. I couldn't run. I prayed that God would help me find the solution to this strange ailment. Then Brian King ran by, asking if I was all right. I said no. As he continued on I suddenly asked, "Brian, what do I do?", he yelled back "Drink lots of water". I thought water or food would make it worse but I chugged a cup and started running... it was working! I drank more and more. I had lost 2min but was now back up to 7:15 miles believing I still had a chance to win.

Later, I realized I hardly drank any water on the ride or the run; and that, combined with Ibuprofen, hot sun and potent "Squeezy" glucose packets, caused dehydration and an irritated stomach. All that day and the days to follow I had to keep my stomach flooded with water. A very good lesson to learn: drink lots of water! (and don't take too many Ibuprofen)

I steadily got faster. My last mile was 6 min pace. I finished with relief, joy, and a thankful prayer. My time was 4 hr 29 min, 16 min faster than last year! I turned around slowly hoping to wait a while to see Clint. I was amazed, but also impressed, to see him finish just over a minute behind me; meaning that he won by almost 4min. Clint had taken 15 min off last year's run. He totally surprised himself. Since he hammers on the bike, he can usually maintain only 8min pace, whereas today, he ran 7min pace. With valiant efforts on both our parts, an incredible race was staged, and, although we both won many battles that day, the man with the fastest speed, and the mind-power to sustain it, was Clint Gaver.

My congrats to a worthy competitor and great friend!