A Race Report

The day before, in the nice calm lake...Wil, Pharmie, Me, and Rural Girl

That is:

1. "A" race report, which now I feel a little stiffed on, because my "A" race was turned into a du

2. Why you should step on a dead fish after you find out your swim is cancelled

3. How much fun I had with friends

4. Holy smokes, pregnancy doping strikes again

Well, I'll give the report here. I don't have any pictures, because why would I take pictures when Steve and James are there? Seriously. So I'll post a few of theirs. Those guys rock! All photo credits to them. Thanks, guys!!

Drove Friday morning to Benton Harbor, Michigan, and pulled into the HoJo parking lot to see a big EvoTri banner and my teammates, Stu and Michelle on the deck! That was good to see. A few minutes later, Pharmie and Steve arrived. It was so good to see everyone again!

Let's just say that, um, the HoJo, is NOT the place you want to stay. Ew. Ewewewewewewew to the max. Like, toenail clippings on the floor nasty. And I'm not kidding. But staying with my buddies made me pretty much forget that!

We met up with the rest of my teammates and a few buddies from CTC at the pre-race pasta dinner. It felt really strange to leave my bike in transition and walk away. I felt kinda naked. But it was sort of nice to NOT have to worry about that the morning of the race.

Enjoying some pre-race food with my girls

Now that's what I call a big transition

Rural Girl's alarm clock went off at 4am, and she got out of bed all rarin' to go. Me...it takes me a few minutes. ;) She brewed some coffee so that helped.

Why yes, I AM aware how HAWT we all are at 4:52 am. Me, Stu, and Rural Girl

Then we packed up, met Stu, Pharmie and Steve, and headed to the race site.

Immediately, Steve warned us the chop was bad. I wasn't too worried about it, because, A) what was I going to do about it? and B) swimming in Lake Erie can get pretty choppy, so I'm used to some chop. I always feel comfortable in the swim, and sort of knew today wasn't about proving my swim anyway, but seeing how far I've come on the bike and run.

So we headed out to the start, walked almost the full mile there, when we heard the swim was cancelled.

I'm pretty much adding up all those yards I swam in the pool in my head

Poop sandwich.

I was really disappointed. I mean, damn. That meant I just spent $220.00 on a glorified brick workout. This was my A race. I trained really hard for it. Boo fricken hoo. And I was grumpy.

Then I stepped on a dead nasty Steelhead with fish guts spilling out.

And I freaked out and ran into the water.

So I took that as a slap in the face from the race. Like, get over it, chick. Do your thing anyway. So, I did.

We all suck it up and accept the new du.

We walked pretty far to get to the start of the uber-lame 2 mile run. (Hey, I was still allowed to be a teensy bit grouchy ;) I decided I'd just use it as a warmup. I knew this was a Clearwater qualifier, so there would be some hard core chicks hauling it. But you know what? It's a long day, and I didn't need to max out myself in the first 2 miles.

Yes, I'm smiling but inside I'm quite grumpy.

Garmin had it at 2.3 for 18:05, race says 18:09 for 2.1 miles. Whatever. Who cares.

You'd be smiling, too, if you got to high five this guy!

So then the real race started in my book. What can I do for 56 miles? Watts were to be held around 150-160, and Coach Emily told me to go rock it, so I did.

Rocked.

It.

It was soooooooooooooooooooooo fun. That is a seriously fast course. A bit of headwinds in the beginning but nothing really too troublesome. And, they were at your back the way back, which is always good! It had some nice little rollers, and I just felt like I really got in a great rhythm and felt AWESOME. Nutrition was good, weather was perfect, and I could hardly believe the mile markers when I got to them. The kind of ride I hoped to have all year, you know? The one that made it worth it to leave my little guy for those rides. I was very, very happy.

Except for one thing.

I have NEVER SEEN SO MANY PEOPLE DRAFTING IN MY LIFE. I mean, we're talking packs of 6-8 DUDES WITH DISC WHEELS all flying by riding TOGETHER like it was a Saturday group ride. Passing people TOGETHER for as far as I could watch them ride away. I know they are probably figuring it's better to risk a 4 minute penalty and get to Clearwater than do it the right way, but you know what? DUDES, THAT IS SHADY. Karma will get you sometime.

/end rant/

Got back to T2, and pretty much did a jig in transition. I was estatic. I almost welled up with tears like a big loser, and I'm not even kidding. It just felt good to know I made that time away from The Bug and Matt count. I know that some of that was the bike I was on, and I'd be curious to see what I'd do on my Trek. I know it wouldn't be the same. But you know what? I think some of that was me, too. I really believe that--I literally worked my ass off this winter, spring, and summer, and I'm very proud of what I did yesterday.

By all accounts, this was a little short. My PowerTap said 54.5 but I had trouble starting it so I thought maybe it was my fault. However, after talking to Pharmie and a few others, most people said it was between 54-55. Another reason I feel a little stiffed, but...a huuuuuuuuuggeeeee PR nonetheless.

My goal on the ride was to break 3 hours. I rode 2:44.34. If we adjust that and say it was 54 miles, I still averaged 19.7 mph. By my calculations, at that pace I would have come in at 2:50.

And that is what I like to call progress.

Seriously, back to T2. I'm just so darn excited. :) I was excited in T2, too. So excited that I left ALL MY SALT TABS IN MY BENTO BOX.

DOH!!!!!!!!!

Bad move. It was getting pretty hot, and it was very sunny. I did remember to apply sunscreen SPF 45 for the third time that day, so that was good. I realized I left the salt tabs in the bento box pretty much when I stepped out of transition. I then decided to roll the dice, drink more gatorade than usual, and see what happened.

Goal on the run was to come in just under 2. Like, 1:59 would have been cool. But I have to remember I've never even broken 2:25 in a half marathon at the end of a half ironman. However, I know how well the running's been going lately so I felt pretty confident I could do it.

The first loop was rough. Around mile 4 I was still averaging about 9:10 but feeling the effects of no salt tabs. Took every sponge and cup of ice I could get my hands on at each aid station, and the volunteers were WONDERFUL. The course surprised me with a few hills, including one that made me say a few bad words under my breath and walk part of it. I didn't expect that. My new teammate who is super tall and ran by my on his loop two LIKE HE WAS WALKING, PoohBear, absolutely rocked the course! It was nice to meet him--holy tall lean ball of talent that guy is!!! :)

Still feeling pretty good on loop one!

I was still feeling OK when I saw James and Steve (and Steve was wearing his amazingly awesomely bad outfit, which just cracked me up) but I knew missing my salt tabs was going to catch up to me. I just hoped it wouldn't catch up to me before I hit 13.1.

Look! I have a leg muscle! And an arm muscle, too! Or is that a mirage....?

Started loop two and started to succumb to fatigue. However, I was passing dudes left and right. There were a lot of guys walking on loop two. I was still running, but it was definitely slower. I felt my legs starting to cramp up.

Please, please, legs... Just wait...come on...keep going and you can cramp all you want after the finish line. I promise.

I started counting steps. I started singing songs in my head. I cursed that stupid hill again. And then, I was at mile 12. I knew I wouldn't break 2, but I still knew I was going to be close to 2. And that was good.

Smiling for the camera...just a few more miles!

At the very last stretch, we had to run on sand. I said, laughing to the spectators as I tried not to fall over, "Are you KIDDING ME?!?!?!!?" They laughed, too. It must have been funny to see everyone running like they didn't drink their V8. But I saw the finish line and I did get a little teary, but hopefully no one saw because I AM NO PANSY, AIIIGGGGHT?

Note to RD: THANKS for the sand dunes at the finish line. :)

Total run 2:03.18 (9:24/mile)

Finish time 5:10.39

I wanted to break 6, but what I called my "super secret goal" shared only with those who know me very well was to go under 5:45. By adding my worst 1.2 mile swim ever to this bike, run, and transition time, and adding another 5 minutes onto the bike so it was 56 miles at my pace, I would have finished in 5:41. Which is comfortably enough under my goal that I feel like I sort of did it. (Even though sort of is just sort of....sigh.)

So, when all was said and done, I kind of PR'd my half distance by just under an hour...if we're thinking somewhere around 5:41. I'm no 5:10, that's for sure, so I feel like I can't use that as my half PR. I'll have to wait until New Orleans to see what my "real" PR is. ;)

I am so happy and excited for what I did do, though. I don't want to downplay that. I just feel like I have to add a few asterisks, which is a bummer. But I know, regardless, that this was a big breakthrough for me. My swim is fine, I'm a lot more capable on the bike than I thought I could be, and my run is okay. My next goal will be to knock some time off my run and try to improve on the bike even more. Training less with more intensity has DEFINITELY worked for me.

After the race, I cheered as loud as I could at the finish line for my buddies. And then snarfed down food like nobody's business.

Buddies at the finish line!

But I really, really wanted to get home and see my little man. So I didn't get to stay long enough to see my amazing rockstar teammate ACCEPT A POSITION TO CLEARWATER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But I called her and screamed a little in her ear in excitement. :) Congrats, Rural Girl! We are all so proud of you!

Got home, and wished my little man a happy 10 month old birthday. Saw him, remembered what I did 1o months ago that night, thought more about what I did in the race and how far this body has taken me, and then cried.

Okay. So maybe I am a little bit of a pansy.

I'm home!

And tired.

But at the same time buzzed up on caffeine so I could make the drive home.

Got to kiss my little man, who turns 10 months old today, and now I'm going to sleep in my own bed.

Lots to tell, but here's the short version: we all just did a $220 brick workout. I was grumpy and grouchy when I found out the swim was cancelled, because it's my FAVORITE part. I guess I understand why, but I was still pretty bummed out. I'm no duathlete for a reason. But I think I might have a new favorite part....

The bottom line is, despite the snafus and this NOT being a triathlon, I had a ton of fun. It was great to hang with my team and my tri club buddies. And I absolutely shattered my goal on the bike, and pretty much nailed it on the run.

My "time" with a two-mile run substituted for the swim was 5:10. Which means even if I had swam the worst time I've ever swum for a 70.3 distance I would have finished in 5:36. But "would have" doesn't mean much. That and 89 cents will get me a cup of coffee. Oh well....

So I'm going to try not to focus on how this didn't feel like it "counted" as much, and focus on the good stuff:

Previous two 70.3 bike split averages: 16.5 and 15.7

Today: 20.4 mph

Previous two 70.3 half marathons: 2:30-somethin' (I don't know and I can't find it anywhere, but it was in that general vicinity), and 2:25

Today: 2:03 (9:24/mile)

And the best stuff of all was having my buddies there! I wish we had another few days to play around.

More to come, but for now, I'm sleepy. :)

A Letter To My Pregnant Self, July 28, 2007

Dear Hormonally-Challenged One Who Freaks Out A Lot Eats Lots of Chocolate Covered Pretzels and Is Really Scared,

Let me save you some trouble.

He'll be born October 2nd--a week early, and you'll be induced, because he's so big and healthy and your doctor is afraid he might be 6 feet tall and drive you home if you wait much longer. His name will be Jackson, and from the second you lay your eyes upon him he'll be the most important thing in the world to you. He'll change your world more than anyone could verbalize to you. He'll be 9 pounds, 4 ounces, and yes, it will hurt like hell, but you'll do it. He'll be the most painful thing you'll ever experience, but the second you see him you'll forget all that pretty much forever and be stricken with baby-sighting pain amnesia. I hear it's quite common, actually.


Right now, you're afraid of many, many things, and most of which are out of your control. You like to be in control of everything, so this has been a crash-course in a little class called "Your Body Is Hella Smarter Than You Are." You won't get on the scale at all--you stopped at the beginning of this month--because it was messing with your head. In fact, your doctor has a big note on your chart that says to the nurse, "DO NOT TELL WEIGHT" because you are such a headcase.

Let me save you some more trouble.


The 55, yes, that is, the I CAN'T DRIVE 55 POUNDS that you will gain will all come off pretty quickly. Like in the first 4-5 months. Your Mom and your friends who have been here before are trying to knock that into your two mile thick skull, but you're not listening. You won't listen to me, either, but at least I tried. And a few more pounds will fall off when you're training for Steelhead. Ten months to the date of Jackson's arrival, you'll be leaner and fitter than you ever have been. But you still won't believe me. You think you're a beached whale and you're all angry about how slow you are. This is also quite stupid, but at least you sort of know how dumb you're being.


You worry. You worry that you'll never run or swim or ride the paces you did before. You fear being slow forever and ever, and you think it's the end of the world.


Let me save you some more trouble.

You won't run, ride, or swim those paces again. Because you'll be faster. And stronger.


You fear that it's selfish to admit that you don't want to give up a part of your life--the independent part, where you get to do whatever you want to do at any time with any one. But the crazy thing is, you really won't. What you will want to do will adapt to fit this new chapter of your life, but you'll find that you can still do the things you want to do--like run, swim, see your friends, make s'mores, go for a hike, play Rock Band, read a book, have a party, travel, race, and teach.
You'll wonder how you ever made it thirty years without him.



You'll be amazed at how much you love his Daddy.



One year from today, you'll be staring a half ironman in the face. And you'll be calmly ready to go, because you know now that this race is different. This race will be justifying all the hours you spent away from him--all the times you got up early so you would get your workouts in before he was up, so you could be the one to see him smile at you with his sleepy eyes. So you could be the one who gets to feed him his oatmeal. You will remember all the boring, lonely 3 hour rides and hour and a half runs you did by yourself, because you had to squeeze it in from home at an unpredictable time, and this time, you want to make it worth something.


This race needs to justify every second away.


You long for runs with your best running buddy followed by 2 hours of coffee and conversation, but you know that she has moved to the other side of the country and has a new baby of her own and those days are on hold. And this bums you out for a moment, but you know that those times will come again. For now, it was all about efficiency, and making it count. So you could be there when it really mattered. So you could be his mother.


And I know it's hard to imagine now, but you'll be ready. Your definition of success will shift a bit, and as a result, you will succeed even more.


And you'll feel like the luckiest girl on the face of the earth, because you've been blessed with the opportunity to pretty much do it all, with a lot of love and a lot of help.


So put up with the cankles. Try not to freak about the scale. Listen to your Sis, because she knows what she's talking about. Everything will fall into place, and there will be changes but you'll roll with it. And your training and your life will ebb and flow along, and there will be times of solitude and gratitude and sleeplessness and more love than you can ever imagine.


Sincerely,

TST '08