No, not me. And no jailbreak. Off we went to San Francisco to cheer on Matlock, daughter Kristin’s boyfriend who was competing in the San Francisco, Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon. Matlock’s a super guy, works hard. He’s a serious biker. I was impressed that he had committed to himself for some years to take on this magnitude of a race, its months of workouts and preparation. This year he applied, qualified, and accepted to compete in the Escape from Alcatraz!
Midway through his training, he admitted second thoughts. What had he gotten into? He grew up in Utah; swimming is not his thing. What ocean? But forget that! Many of us – including his family from Utah – mother, father, two sisters, a niece and nephew – plus our LA-based support team, and his best friend from college – committed and made plans to come to San Francisco to watch him compete. Terry and I hitched a ride. We stayed on California Street at the Omni, the cable cars passing by, headed up Nob Hill.
Other than competing in a few 5 – 10 kilometer runs, and despite my love of sports, I had never been around races. My impression of triathlons was based solely on an inflight documentary of the Iron Man race in Hawaii. Craziness. To me, one segment of the three that make up the triathlon would be major and certainly enough. But two, three?
Matlock had trained and practiced two segments… but this would be his first shot at all three legs. Escape from Alcatraz consists of a 1.5-mile swim in rough waters, an 18-mile bike ride, capped off with an 8-mile run punctuated by the infamous “sand steps” where contestants climb from Baker Beach up 400 uneven log and sand steps.
The Escape from Alcatraz this year had ~2,000 contestants. The first leg of the triathlon was a swim from Alcatraz to Fort Mason. Burrr. And this spot is known for its currents. For months, Matlock had worked on his swimming in the YMCA pool and then in the ocean.
“Team Matlock,” the families, met at 6:30 in the morning at the race’s hub and finish, the main transition area at Marina Green. It was chilly in the park, an overcast morning. We were impressed by the bike storage area of the park. All the bikes had been there overnight. The area was fenced off and with lots of security. The bikes, along with bags of gear – shoes, gloves, helmets, etc. – were ready for their riders’ quick transitions from initial run to bike, then later from bike to run.
From the park we could see Alcatraz, the start of the race. As we waited for the start, clutching warm tea and coffee, we watched a massive container ship coming in under the Golden Gate, then wrapping around the northern side of Alcatraz well away from the swimmers. Then at about 6:45 we saw the giant riverboat – the San Francisco Belle – taking the swimmers to the start. She circled Alcatraz and then positioned herself at the start of the race. Contestants would start the triathlon by diving off the Belle. There were lots of kayaks in the water, plus police boats with blue lights, and officials on jet skis.
At 7:00 sharp, with the naked eye, the Marina Green crowd assembled saw the splashes of the racers diving off the Belle, into 52 degree water, and beginning the race. We’d been told that the professionals – yes, there is a circuit of sponsored triathletes – went first, along with others who qualified. All participants unloaded in eight minutes, 2,000 strong leaping into the current and cold water. Wetsuits were mandatory for the open-water swim.
We left the vantage spot for the start of the race, and at first we ambled toward the Marina Green Beach where the swimmers would get out of the water, just west of the St. Francis Yacht Club. Then we moved fast as we saw the lead swimmer nearing the swim’s completion! The word spread that they had an amazing current in their favor. Best ever!
Before we knew it, we saw the race leader jogging briskly in his wetsuit toward the bike staging area. He looked great. Zero body fat. Wow. That was fast. Before we knew it, just as we got to the beach, there was Matlock coming out of the water with a big grin on his face! It had taken him only a half hour. He’d planned for much more time in the water.
Elation among Team Matlock there was. He had done the swim in record time… way faster than he anticipated, and likely in the top third of all contestants. We’d learn later from him and others that it was super choppy, and swimmers were getting mouthfuls of water while being kicked by fellow swimmers.
Despite that, and to his mother’s relief, he was ashore, swimmers removing their head pieces, and unzipping wetsuits. We cheered him on as he tucked into a mini-transition staging area, whipped on some running shoes, for a half-mile “warm-up” run back to the race hub. That’s where we went next.
The race got us fired up. Everyone was fired up. The crowd moving… pulsing even, shifting to get to the next vantage point. Cheering… cheering them all on was consistent. Matlock said that throughout the biking and running course, there were people cheering them, propelling them.
We were struck by the age diversity of the triathletes, and the apparent breadth of fitness. Not everyone was buff… but everyone looked excited and fulfilled, each reeked of determination. And each and every one was the recipient of untethered applaud. Youth and boundless energy passed us, as did proofs of pride and wisdom and experience. We scurried from one vantage point to another.
Biking is Matlock’s thing, his preferred sport, and the bike route up to Golden Gate Park is territory that he knows well. He lived in San Francisco, pre-pandemic. He looked good coming back from the bike ride, waving to us and he wheeled into the transition area. His spot to leave the bike was near the sidewalk, and we were able to speak to him after the ride. He looked good and smiled…. and said flatly, “I’m tired.” What could we say? How about an 8-mile run? Off he went.
He made it! The finish was exhilarating as we witnessed a runway of so many exhausted contestants. Yet each had a wonderful look. They were at the end. They basked in the deserved the cheers. Smiling broadly, sweating profusely, finding their loved ones, fists in the air. And then through the finish with names and hometowns called out on the PA system. Lots of applause, such an uplifting time, bonding with those around us. As their loved one came into view, and passed up by, we all cheered as if he or she were ours too! Big cheers, cowbells ringing.
The pinnacle of my emotions was simple. I’ll never forget Scott, Matlock’s dad, hugging his son at the finish. “I am proud of you son,” he said, wiping away his tears. He’d been just blown away by the event and his son. A mom elated too, plus an exceptional and devoted and supportive girlfriend.
The sun was shining at the finish, the contestants being fed a hearty catered meal… all manner of friends and family and dogs milling about, basking in the post-race bliss. The runners were clearly exhausted, but also clearly pumped up. They looked surprisingly good… ready later for a well-earned shower and nap no doubt.
Never thought it would mean so much to me. But the race was a high for me, for us all. It felt good to bond in our supporting mission, to be part of the team, among Matlock’s family and friends, and to support and salute his huge effort. Matlock did really well. What an accomplishment. What an inspiration to be in the presence of devoted athletes, pushing their bodies to excel. Hats off Matlock, to you and all your fellow triathletes!