The Buddy Bones 64-Mile Triathlon

I was up early, 5:30, blogging and getting awake. After breakfast and dressing, I rode my bike to the pool. John's car was there so I knew it was going to be a day of miracles. Then I went inside the gate but John was not inside. I took off my helmet, sunglasses, gloves, biking shorts, jersey, shoes, socks, and waded into the pool. Then John yelled out from the little pool across the parking lot, "Hey Zane, come over here." I didn't even answer. I swam 1,700 meters. A mile is 1609. I got out, dressed, and headed out on the bicycle.

I knew this was going to be a tough day. This was beyond my fitness level, but when I thought it up, it appealed to me, sunk its hooks in, and would not let me go. I had only been on my bicycle five times since Bikes, Blues[,] & Bayous 2019. So to go 50 miles at all was a stretch but to go 50 miles and then run seemed almost impossible. I knew the only way to pull this off was to go really easy on the bike. I did. I rode about 10 to 11 miles per hour. I went to Money, rode the east road, then went to McIntyre Road and road it. Back on Money Road, I went to Six Mile Road, did it, and then did an out-and-back on Money to get up to 37 miles at the Six Mile turn off. There I was 13 miles from home.

When I made it back to Money, I stopped at the fire station, got off the bike and lay down on the concrete. I went to sleep. I was awakened by a loud whining sound. What is that? I thought. Then my memory pulled it up. It was a high boy and he was coming my way. I hopped up, dressed, and then he came over the bridge and turned onto Money Road headed my way, south. I would have been on my bicycle but I had my helmet on but not my sunglasses, which had a strap on them. To put them on over the helmet would have broken something. So I missed a good opportunity. He turned on the old Wildwood Road anyway so I would have only gotten about a mile out of it. Drafting a highboy? you say. Yeah. I know it's counter intuitive, but despite that huge gap under them, they provide a really strong draft.

So I got on the bicycle and slogged my way to town. By now, my butt was hurting, and my neck was in pain. That is the thing about really long endurance events. They show you where your body is weak and what you need to work on in the gym. I was, about a year ago, doing neck exercises. But I grew lazy and stopped. 

When I got back to the Hideout, I locked up my bicycle and went inside. There, I plugged my phone to the charger, got water, and ate a piece of chicken. I then restocked my pack. I had run out of Gatorade, but had two more 28 ouncers in the fridge. I put my running shoes on and went out the door. I headed straight for the Yazoo River Trail. I figured I could at least get started in some shade. It did not take long, however, to find out that the run was going to be long, slow, and painful.

I made it two miles before I had to slow to a walk. I walked all of mile three. Then I shuffled mile four. I walked five, shuffled six, and at 6.5 I was back at the Hideout. I had emptied my pack already. Yeah, I was going through the Gatorade now at an alarming rate. I poured in the last bottle, took care of some necessary business, and was back on the road. I went out on the gravel off of East Claiborne. My runs were now about walking pace, and my walks were grocery shopping speed. Just keep moving, I thought.

Slowly the miles pilled up while by body pulled down. I was hot and had a strange pain in my chest. Not around my heart, but in the back to one side, in my lungs. I was 59.7 miles in and a mile from the Hideout when the race director approached me. "I am calling this," he said. "This heat is dangerous for a young man. Go to the Hideout, and the race is triathlon is over."

I was tempted, but I asked, "What would David Goggins do?"

"#&@^ David Goggins. You ain't David Goggins. You are Zane Hodge. It's your birthday, and you should enjoy some of it."

So with that, I was convinced. I walked to the Hideout, took off my pack, and the Buddy Bones 64-Mile Triathlon was over. I had covered 60.75 miles. The idea was to do a mile for each year. I turned 64 thus the 64-mile triathlon. But they say you are as young as you feel, and on June the 2nd of 2020, I felt a little over 60.