When will I have faith in God? Just like Wildflower, 2 weeks earlier, I'm complaining the day before the race about pains I have on the bike. I'm not able to train. But come race day I have a great bike split. I think God's reminding me that he's my race manager, and that my goal isn't how well I do in the race, but how well I handle and overcome the training frustrations leading up to it. I'm sure my friends will remind me of that now :)

It was a beautiful crisp day at the scenic Uvas Reservoir North of Gilroy. Setting up transition areas, we enjoyed a reunion of familiar faces. Everybody seemed easy going and excited. While warming up running and riding, the sun comes up bright and whips up a little breeze. The water feels icy to the feet. I won't feel them again until part way through the run.

The pro/elites go first, as our large 25-29 group gradually assembles between the start buoys. I say a quick prayer. Racing on Sunday does present a conflict. In the back people are cheering, music is playing.... and the bullhorn sounds the start!

Into the bright sun we sprint for position, heart rates accelerating. I keep my head down, holding my breathe, escaping the flailing hands and feet. But a goggle gets bumped and starts filling with water. Finally, settled into a drafting order, I start breathing deeply, decreasing oxygen debt and the constriction around my neck from gasping in a wetsuit.

My draft group disperses and I pull my way up to the next group as we churn along the backside of the island. I'm alongside another competitor, trying to work the same line. I relax, breathe deep, elongate and slowly pull ahead. The quarters get tight again as my group rounds the last buoy winding up for the long sprint in. 17 min. I get a good exit, hand off my tag, and race for my bike while stripping off the wetsuit. I know the surface is sharp but my frozen feet don't complain as I search for my rack.

The first 2 miles are hectic, breathing is frantic, I'm trying to strap my shoes on, water is dripping from my head, wind is blowing me around, I'm trying to drink, stay on the road, figure out speed, time, and why I'm wearing a heart rate monitor when I'm planning to be "Too High" for the rest of the race anyway. I'm slowly bridging up to other riders.

I'm on a different bike, just fixed it yesterday, it's shifting great and feeling great! I focus on the downhills, make my passes in the flats, pull away in the corners, and ease up a little on the hills. At 8mi, averaging 26mph, I don't see anyone ahead, just 1 last guy that I can't break free of. On the steep section he pulls alongside and (remembering a trick my roommate, Dale, & I talked about) I encourage him, "Allright, good job, way to work the hill!", and he powers on up, gaining 7 seconds on me, but also a lot of lactic acid, which, under high heart rate, is trapped in the muscles and may slow him down. Flying down the backside and onto flat Watsonville Rd, I maintain the high cadence, pass him, and this time it sticks. I feel great as I stretch my calves, coasting into the transition with a 41:24 split.

After a 46 sec. transition I'm on the run and finally see the next group ahead. The legs feel good, but are my shoes moving around? I can't tell because my feet are still numb. After a mile they thaw out and, yep, my shoes are way too loose. I stop, quickly tighten them, and continue to catch the pack, focussing on Scott Adams ahead and wondering where Dave Burns and the speedster, Kiet Tran, are. After the turn around, I see Kiet and Dave behind me. Scott and the pro's (and a 15 yr old kid?) are the only one's ahead!

At 3.5 miles, I've worked so hard to catch him but don't want him to know that so I disguise it by cheerfully encouraging friends going the other way. He'll think I'm still fresh... maybe. I greet him as I go by and pick it up a little but I can't go much faster so I keep cheering for other's hoping the illusion will keep him from challenging me. I ran scared for the last mile thinking he's trailing me and finished 1st in my age and 4th overall amateur in 1:30:28. Turned out Scott wasn't chasing me... and he wasn't even in my division, he was pro/elite. But better safe than sorry. And the 15 yr old kid? Bryan Beckman? He won it. Remember that name.