Three words best describe this race: Hot, Hot, and HOT. By the time of the 8 AM start, it was easily topping 90. The heat index for the day, which is measured in the shade, was at least 105. You have to get yourself to just not think about it. At least that's what I do. Because if you dwell on it you'll just be miserable. And it'll still be just as hot!
Swim: There were 3 waves. All females were in the 3rd wave (it was a very small race). The water was almost as hot as the air! It was like a bathtub in there. Fortunately it was also as calm as a bathtub, which made sighting easy even for me. There was one girl who insisted on swimming into my butt the entire way around. I got an elbow to the goggle one time too which was nice. She seemed to be trying to get me to move over. I'm sure she was frustrated, but hey I was just swimming in a straight line, I wasn't about to alter my course just because she wanted me to! If she wanted to swim to the inside she could go around me. But she seemed to prefer my butt. Oh well. I think the swim was quite long. My friend, who was an NCAA swimmer, looked at all the times and thinks it was at least 100yds too long. For a 400 meter course, that's pretty significant. I heard them say "3rd and 4th women coming out of the water!" as I got out, which was very cool (that would be me and Butt-Girl).
T1: I opted to wear socks, which I would later regret. Other than that, I was pretty fast for me, although that's still not fast. I think I lost 2 spots by the time I got out onto the bike.
Bike: 13 mile straight, flat, out & back course. A bit of a headwind on the way out provided some challenge, but I knew the way back would be sweet. I chased down some women in front of me and tried to keep a mental note of my position. I passed a coworker of mine to get into 3rd place. She passed me back and I got to watch another girl draft off of her for about a mile until I passed them both again. On the way back, a few miles from the end, I found myself in a back-and-forth duel with two other women. We were trading the top three spots back and forth. I was leading the race two different times, though only briefly. It was really exciting. We were zooming by other riders like they were standing still. Eventually, one girl pulled far enough away that I knew I wouldn't catch her, but I kept her in my sights (not hard on a straight road) and finished the bike in 2nd place.
T2: I opted to not take my feet out of my shoes before dismounting the bike, another decision I would come to regret. Again, fast transition for me but still not that fast.
Run: Whoa, this was the longest 2 miles I've ever run! I could see the girl in 1st ahead of me. She wasn't pulling away, but I wasn't gaining much ground either. By the time we passed the first mini-aid station, which was two people handing out icewater towels, I was well in need of some cooling off. I reached out and received... a dry washcloth. What a tease! The next aid station was a water stop. A little girl was handing out water and Gatorade. I was about to ask for water, when the guy right in front of me took the cup of water she was holding. I passed by as she was turned around to get another cup. Foiled again!
Then we turned off the road and entered a shaded section of trail. I guess the shade was nice, but the real thing I noticed was we were running on a thick pad of pea gravel. As if my legs weren't heavy enough, now I was running on what felt like sand. "Turnover!" I kept telling myself. "Just keep running!" I thought about what it would feel like if another woman came blazing past me, putting me into third. I might not be able to catch the girl in front of me, but I certainly didn't work this hard to lose my second-place spot! After we finally exited the woods, there was another mini-aid station. I reached out for water, but all he had was Gatorade. 0 for 3!
I could tell there wasn't anyone immediately about to pass me because I didn't hear any cheers for anyone else after I passed a group of spectators. Coming up on the water-and-Gatorade aid station for the second time, I could see they were handing out water bottles. And they looked COLD. Sweeet. I reached out for one... and a guy right next to me (where did he even come from??) grabbed it. And that was it, we had passed by. Are you kidding me?? At this point I let out an audible "AAGH!" I was passing a guy who said, "here, you want some of mine?" I managed an "I love you!!", guzzled some precious H2O and gave him the bottle back. I then came up on my friend Clay, got out a quick "missed EVERY aid station!" to him, and he mercifully splashed me with some water from his bottle as I passed. Then, up ahead- the finish line! So close, but so far away... had it really only been an hour since the swim start? One hot, tired foot in front of the other, and I made it to finish 2nd overall. And promptly drank 2 bottles of icy cold water. Aaaaaaahhhh, finally.
Results: I was 2nd overall, which is way cool! (remember though, it was a small race, something like 46 women total, so it's not quite as impressive as it sounds) But looking back over the results, what do you think made the difference? Yep, you guessed it, transitions. The girl who won was about 25 seconds ahead of me, and that's about how much faster her combined T1 and T2 were than mine. Our other times were startlingly identical (I outswam her by one minute, she outbiked me by one minute, and our run times were 0.2 sec apart). Guess who needs to do some transition work?? Talking to my coach though, I realized a few things. 1) This is not unexpected, since we've never really worked on transitions before. For the half and full IMs, they don't matter as much and I've always had bigger things to work on. She gave me some good tips that I will be practicing. 2) This is a good problem to have! For a race to come down to transition times means I'm making some good progress.
My bike average was good, 21.1 mph. I was a little concerned that it was the same average that I had in Heatwave a few weeks back, where the bike course was almost twice as long. But Heatwave was a slightly rolling course, so I was helped out by some downhills. This one was pancake flat. Heatwave, despite the name, was also nowhere near as hot. But in any case, my biking has definitely improved just in the last couple of months, and that in itself is a major victory.
My run pace was 7:46, which was slightly disappointing. I ran 7:10s for a longer race not even a year ago. But, I hadn't biked nearly as fast, nor was it nearly as hot. And I went into this last month or so of training knowing that the strong bike focus for this phase was going to take something away from my run. I've hardly done any run speedwork at all in the last month at least. So I do understand it. But of course I want to be faster, who doesn't, right?
And in the end, this race was for fun of course, and I had fun. So I was more than happy with it.
I almost forgot the best part of the race- the Headsweats visor in the goodie bag! Seriously, that was the main reason I signed up for this race.
Lots of great GNOTri performances, including several AG wins and places. Congrats to all! Now go find some air conditioning :)
Monday, June 21, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
One Year Ago
A year ago today, I woke before dawn in a place far from home and prepared myself for the biggest physical challenge of my life. Actually, the real preparation had been going on for the last twelve months in order to get me to that predawn morning.
I remember the first triathlon I ever did- a sprint called The Grandman on May 31st, 2008. I rode a commuter bike with my running shoes. It was my first open water swim. It was the first time I'd run three continuous miles since my injury the previous winter. And I LOVED it. I remember crossing the finish line and thinking to myself, "I am a triathlete!". It was the biggest feeling of personal accomplishment I'd had in a long time. I knew I had to have more of this sport.
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In the days that followed, I thought about what I wanted to do next. I was looking around on the internet, talking to my new triathlon friends, and learning about this whole new world of sport. Sure, I had run before, but this was different- the sense of community, the oppenness and welcoming of other triathletes, how much FUN everyone seemed to be having. I started reading about Ironman. Wow, I thought, that is a whole other level. But I talked to some people who had done them, and they were very... normal. They didn't wear capes like superheroes, they went to work and had lives just like I did. I started thinking- why couldn't I do that? That turned into "I bet I could do that" and then "I wanna do that!". I talked about it to my friend/coworker Adam, who happened to be contemplating his first Ironman at the same time. And that was enough to put it over the edge. At the stroke of noon on a June Monday, the instant the general entry opened, he and I both signed up for the 2009 Ironman Coeur d'Alene. Twelve months to get ready- the countdown was on.
I knew I couldn't do it by myself. I knew I needed help. I had only done one tri, I could count on one hand the number of times I'd swum laps in the pool, I didn't even have a bike besides my hybrid, and I was just coming off of an injury that had sidelined me for a few months. I didn't know how to find a coach, but I knew I needed one. It ended up happening mostly by accident. I read an article on Beginner Triathlete that I liked, and I clicked on the link at the end for the author. I found the name Jennifer Hutchison, read a little about her, and thought she could be a good fit. We scheduled a chat, I told her my story and what I wanted to do, and did she think this was possible? She told me yes. We must have talked for about an hour. It totally clicked- I could tell right away that she "got" me. My Ironman roller coaster ride was starting, and I was strapped in and ready to go!
Over the course of that year, I did a few more races, bought a bike, eventually was healed enough to run faster than Granny and her walker, faithfully rode with GNOTri on the Saturday Rides of Pain (I only cried a few times), figured out how to fit more and more training time into a week, made a lot of friends, and had a lot of fun.
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There are many memorable moments that stick out:
-My first 100 mile ride, which was by myself in the blazing heat, doing four 25-mile Hayne loops (I HATE Hayne loops).
-Running 16 miles (at the time my longest ever) at the crack of dawn so I could be ready in time for Easter brunch.
-Almost getting run over by drag racers on Hayne at dusk. I had started my ride too late and was running out of daylight, when all of a sudden headlights across the whole road were screaming towards me. That was probably my scariest bike experience ever.
-Finally breaking 1:30 for 100m in the pool, after it had eluded me for a long time.
-My super-brick workout of 4 x (20 mile bike/4 mile run), also in the blazing heat, which ended up taking me about 8 hours.
-My training trip to CA, on the Wildflower course. So much fun, even though just the thought of Nasty Grade made me cry before we even got there.
And there are many more.
So back to that morning. It's June 21st, 2009, and I'm standing in the kitchen of our rented house in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, spreading peanut butter on a bagel. It's barely 4:30 AM and the sun is already coming up. I can see the predawn glow through the window over the sink. I'm ready. My transition and special needs bags are packed, my bike is checked, my swim gear is by the door. And more importantly, I have the training in the bank and I know it. I've done the work my coach has given me and my trust in her plan is complete. If she says I'm ready, then I am. I don't know exactly what will happen out there today, but unless there is some major accident I know I'll finish.
And right about now, back here in NOLA around 11 PM Central time, is almost exactly one year to the minute since it happened. I did finish. I am an Ironman. I'm still moving forward- there's been a lot more racing since that day and a lot of changes. I've set my sights on some new goals, gained more experience, and I continue to have a great and rewarding relationship with my coach. But that day one year ago is a day I will always remember.
I remember the first triathlon I ever did- a sprint called The Grandman on May 31st, 2008. I rode a commuter bike with my running shoes. It was my first open water swim. It was the first time I'd run three continuous miles since my injury the previous winter. And I LOVED it. I remember crossing the finish line and thinking to myself, "I am a triathlete!". It was the biggest feeling of personal accomplishment I'd had in a long time. I knew I had to have more of this sport.
In the days that followed, I thought about what I wanted to do next. I was looking around on the internet, talking to my new triathlon friends, and learning about this whole new world of sport. Sure, I had run before, but this was different- the sense of community, the oppenness and welcoming of other triathletes, how much FUN everyone seemed to be having. I started reading about Ironman. Wow, I thought, that is a whole other level. But I talked to some people who had done them, and they were very... normal. They didn't wear capes like superheroes, they went to work and had lives just like I did. I started thinking- why couldn't I do that? That turned into "I bet I could do that" and then "I wanna do that!". I talked about it to my friend/coworker Adam, who happened to be contemplating his first Ironman at the same time. And that was enough to put it over the edge. At the stroke of noon on a June Monday, the instant the general entry opened, he and I both signed up for the 2009 Ironman Coeur d'Alene. Twelve months to get ready- the countdown was on.
I knew I couldn't do it by myself. I knew I needed help. I had only done one tri, I could count on one hand the number of times I'd swum laps in the pool, I didn't even have a bike besides my hybrid, and I was just coming off of an injury that had sidelined me for a few months. I didn't know how to find a coach, but I knew I needed one. It ended up happening mostly by accident. I read an article on Beginner Triathlete that I liked, and I clicked on the link at the end for the author. I found the name Jennifer Hutchison, read a little about her, and thought she could be a good fit. We scheduled a chat, I told her my story and what I wanted to do, and did she think this was possible? She told me yes. We must have talked for about an hour. It totally clicked- I could tell right away that she "got" me. My Ironman roller coaster ride was starting, and I was strapped in and ready to go!
Over the course of that year, I did a few more races, bought a bike, eventually was healed enough to run faster than Granny and her walker, faithfully rode with GNOTri on the Saturday Rides of Pain (I only cried a few times), figured out how to fit more and more training time into a week, made a lot of friends, and had a lot of fun.
There are many memorable moments that stick out:
-My first 100 mile ride, which was by myself in the blazing heat, doing four 25-mile Hayne loops (I HATE Hayne loops).
-Running 16 miles (at the time my longest ever) at the crack of dawn so I could be ready in time for Easter brunch.
-Almost getting run over by drag racers on Hayne at dusk. I had started my ride too late and was running out of daylight, when all of a sudden headlights across the whole road were screaming towards me. That was probably my scariest bike experience ever.
-Finally breaking 1:30 for 100m in the pool, after it had eluded me for a long time.
-My super-brick workout of 4 x (20 mile bike/4 mile run), also in the blazing heat, which ended up taking me about 8 hours.
-My training trip to CA, on the Wildflower course. So much fun, even though just the thought of Nasty Grade made me cry before we even got there.
And there are many more.
So back to that morning. It's June 21st, 2009, and I'm standing in the kitchen of our rented house in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, spreading peanut butter on a bagel. It's barely 4:30 AM and the sun is already coming up. I can see the predawn glow through the window over the sink. I'm ready. My transition and special needs bags are packed, my bike is checked, my swim gear is by the door. And more importantly, I have the training in the bank and I know it. I've done the work my coach has given me and my trust in her plan is complete. If she says I'm ready, then I am. I don't know exactly what will happen out there today, but unless there is some major accident I know I'll finish.
And right about now, back here in NOLA around 11 PM Central time, is almost exactly one year to the minute since it happened. I did finish. I am an Ironman. I'm still moving forward- there's been a lot more racing since that day and a lot of changes. I've set my sights on some new goals, gained more experience, and I continue to have a great and rewarding relationship with my coach. But that day one year ago is a day I will always remember.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Stupid Criminals: Triathlon Edition
Two weekends ago was the Heatwave Classic Triathlon in Ridgeland, MS. I headed up there along with several GNOTri teammates.
The race was great- it's almost an Olympic distance but with a short swim (0.5 mi). The bike ride is along the scenic Natchez Trace Parkway, and the run is on a paved trail through a shady wooded area. It was my first race with the new bike so I really wanted to tear it up out on the bike course. I managed to do pretty well on the bike- YAY- but then had no legs getting out on the run. I felt like Lieutenant Dan from Forrest Gump. After the turnaround on the run I realized one other reason for that- the run was mostly uphill the whole way out, but so gradual that you couldn't really see it. It was just enough to make you a little miserable. On the way back I was able to open it up a little and take advantage of the slight downhill, so at least that was good. And for once I didn't end up way out in the middle of the lake during the swim, with the race going on waaaay over there... I need to remember that whenever I think to myself, "oh I'm getting some swimming room, this is good", that it's actually NOT good because it probably means I'm veering off to China. So the fact that I managed to swim mostly straight on a right-turns course (I'm better on left turns) was good enough for me. I even took home some hardware!
But the real story of the day happened before the race even started. I was jogging around the parking lot warming up, about ten minutes before I was going to head down to the water. I saw some cops standing over by the side of the parking lot. I didn't think anything of it, since there are normally cops at races for traffic control. But when I ran by, I saw them putting cuffs on the kid who was standing with them. He looked youngish, early 20s, and was all dressed up in his triathlon gear, body marked and ready to race. As I passed I heard one of the cops say, "they have some pretty unique serial numbers, you know, especially those fancy carbon ones". Wait, wha?? I had to find out more...
On my way back around the parking lot, the cops were putting the kid in the car. I got the scoop from two ladies who were standing nearby- the kid stole the bike from packet pickup the night before (which was held at the local bike shop). Then in his infinite wisdom, he brought it to the race and tried to race with it. How on Earth did they find him, you ask? Perhaps because the race number attached to the bike was the same as the number WRITTEN ON HIS BODY. The bike shop people showed up, found the bike by make, model, and serial number, and then found the kid. (I heard he was going to parade around with a neon sign saying "I STOLE THIS" but he thought it would mess up his aerodynamics.)
I really don't have much else to say about that. I mean, seriously?? A bike just happens to go missing the night before the biggest sporting event in the area, and you think they're not going to look there? Although, Coach Rick had a good point- "I actually don't know if I'd have looked here, because I'd have thought no one would be that dumb."
So whether it was bold, just plain stupid, or both, it was definitely something I did not expect to see that morning!
The race was great- it's almost an Olympic distance but with a short swim (0.5 mi). The bike ride is along the scenic Natchez Trace Parkway, and the run is on a paved trail through a shady wooded area. It was my first race with the new bike so I really wanted to tear it up out on the bike course. I managed to do pretty well on the bike- YAY- but then had no legs getting out on the run. I felt like Lieutenant Dan from Forrest Gump. After the turnaround on the run I realized one other reason for that- the run was mostly uphill the whole way out, but so gradual that you couldn't really see it. It was just enough to make you a little miserable. On the way back I was able to open it up a little and take advantage of the slight downhill, so at least that was good. And for once I didn't end up way out in the middle of the lake during the swim, with the race going on waaaay over there... I need to remember that whenever I think to myself, "oh I'm getting some swimming room, this is good", that it's actually NOT good because it probably means I'm veering off to China. So the fact that I managed to swim mostly straight on a right-turns course (I'm better on left turns) was good enough for me. I even took home some hardware!
But the real story of the day happened before the race even started. I was jogging around the parking lot warming up, about ten minutes before I was going to head down to the water. I saw some cops standing over by the side of the parking lot. I didn't think anything of it, since there are normally cops at races for traffic control. But when I ran by, I saw them putting cuffs on the kid who was standing with them. He looked youngish, early 20s, and was all dressed up in his triathlon gear, body marked and ready to race. As I passed I heard one of the cops say, "they have some pretty unique serial numbers, you know, especially those fancy carbon ones". Wait, wha?? I had to find out more...
On my way back around the parking lot, the cops were putting the kid in the car. I got the scoop from two ladies who were standing nearby- the kid stole the bike from packet pickup the night before (which was held at the local bike shop). Then in his infinite wisdom, he brought it to the race and tried to race with it. How on Earth did they find him, you ask? Perhaps because the race number attached to the bike was the same as the number WRITTEN ON HIS BODY. The bike shop people showed up, found the bike by make, model, and serial number, and then found the kid. (I heard he was going to parade around with a neon sign saying "I STOLE THIS" but he thought it would mess up his aerodynamics.)
I really don't have much else to say about that. I mean, seriously?? A bike just happens to go missing the night before the biggest sporting event in the area, and you think they're not going to look there? Although, Coach Rick had a good point- "I actually don't know if I'd have looked here, because I'd have thought no one would be that dumb."
So whether it was bold, just plain stupid, or both, it was definitely something I did not expect to see that morning!
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