This was the big one, the race I've been training for and targeting all season. I really restructured my training, this year, beginning much later than I normally do so that I would still feel fresh and motivated in July. I pre-rode and pre-ran the course the weekend before to remind myself what those hills and what that humidity really feel like. And, as usual, I had my family with me. No Photographer, though :-(.
Pre-Race
I've wised up over the years, and told my mom that I wanted to leave 15 minutes earlier than I actually wanted to leave. And it worked! We were heading out by 5:15 and at the race site by 5:30! I rode alone to transition. I was one of the first on my rack and set my stuff up just the way I like it. I got my timing chip (body marking was done by Tri Tats, which I used for the first time at this race. I loved them!), aired up my tires, and headed out for a gentle warm up on the 4.5 mile bike loop.
When I got back, someone had moved my stuff. Seriously. She had picked up my towel, my shoes, my hat, and my race belt, and moved it to the side. So I picked it up and moved it back where it belonged. "I think you're supposed to put your stuff on the opposite side your bike is facing," she might have said (it's been a week and a half, and I don't remember exactly). "I know," I replied. "I did." There was definitely some hostility. But you just don't move another person's stuff, not without asking. If she would have asked me to scooch it over a bit, I totally would have (and I did move my stuff to take up less space as the rack filled up). I felt perfectly justified, though, as I was one of the first to get in to set up my transition space AND I was in the right space, as marked on the bike rack.
I scoped out my rack to see my competition. I felt good about my chances of kicking some serious tri tail.
Swim: 1000 m in 21:34 (22:29 in '08)
I guess I still improved over my 2008 time, so it's not all bad. But the swim was definitely the low point of the race for me. I have been hitting my pool intervals at 1:35-1:45/100 m, so I was optimistic about how this swim would go. But then I got attacked by monster woman triathletes! They must have been mammoth! In fact, they may have been zombie triathletes from the year before, trying to drag me under to join their foul brood!
Okay, that's hyperbolic. But a few did literally grab me and pull me under. Not intentionally, of course; nothing like that happens intentionally in a triathlon. It just happens. But it was a rough swim in the first 300-400 m, and it really affected me mentally. I got so smashed around, it was hard to establish a rhythm. In fact, I didn't really find a rhythm until well past the turn-around, and even then I was more disoriented than usual. Through that, though, I was fortunate not to have too much negative self-talk. I just chalked it up to positioning myself poorly for the start, and vowed to make up for it on the bike. And I still came out twelfth in my wave, sixteenth swim overall, so maybe everyone had kind of a rough time.
T1: 1:30 (1:41 in '08)
There's a long run up to the bike racks from the boat ramp, which accounts for the long transition time. Fourth female overall in T1, though, and I passed two women in T1!
Bike: 18 mi in 56:24 (1:00:14 in '08)
This was my greatest area of improvement, and where I made up the most time on my competitors. I rode fifth fastest of all the women.
I don't remember much of the bike ride. I was in the zone. I could hear music playing in my head, and I matched my cadence to the beat, changing mental tracks on the uphills, downhills, and flats. I counted women as I passed them, until I lost track on the third lap, when I started passing the women who were riding the short course. I speculated as to how many women were ahead of me, at that point (seven).
Last time I did this race, I forgot to pull my feet out of my shoes before I hit transition. This year, I remembered, but just barely. I was pulling my feet out as I came into the chute for the finish. Some poor girl came into the chute just behind me, but couldn't pass me (no passing before the dismount) as I slowed down to undo my feet. Sorry, friend!
I am so, so happy with the way my bike ride went.
T2: 52 seconds (1:05 in '08)
Ranked tenth, among women. Meh.
Run: 42:11 (46:44 in '08)
This is not a fantastic run. It's about 9:20/mile. Not a great time. But you know what? I was pretty happy with it! It represents a big improvement over what I did last time, and still leaves me with plenty of room to improve. And it was still faster than two-thirds of the other women, almost, so whoopee!
My bike ride set me up for big problems on the run. I'd debated whether or not I should put Nuun in my water bottle, since I was only taking one. I should have. I could feel myself start to cramp up after the second lap on the bike, right before I took my Powergel (I felt almost immediately better). By the time I hit the run, my electrolytes were depleted again, and I was in for a rough ride. More than half of the course runs you through the gorgeous Steamway Trail area, which is unfortunately in something of a minor valley. It's hot and humid in the valley, oppressive conditions for a July run, even if it is at 8:30 a.m. With my electrolytes down, I found myself really hurting once the trail dipped into that valley. I admit it: I had to stop and walk a couple of times. My quads were cramping badly. It was torture trying to push myself back uphill. Fortunately, once I was up that big hill, the air had more cool in it, and I was only half a mile from the finish line.
I did the first two miles of the run in about sixteen minutes, so that gives you an idea of how much I slowed down over the last two miles.
My finish did not include a big sprint to the line. By the time I hit the line, it was all I could do to keep my legs going at the same pace I had.
Total: 2:02:29 (2:12:12 in '08), 3rd F 25-29, and 12th F overall!
I was very happy with this race. Unlike El Dorado, where I was absolutely CONVINCED that I should have done better than I did, this race left me with the feeling that I had given it my all. I beat myself by 10 minutes from the last time I did Shawnee Mission, and I beat 60 of the 72 women I was racing (including the girl who moved my stuff in transition, not that that's important).
I was very hot and my tummy was not happy when I finished. I had a nasty blister on my left ankle, too, a really deep one. I left my Kinvaras at El Dorado Lake after the triathlon there, so I had to buy a new pair two weeks out from Shawnee Mission. I got the Saucony Fastwitch, which I like, but I think I should have bought them a size bigger. I lubed my ankle and the back of my shoe really well, but I think it just made it worse. I'm not sure what to do about it, running sockless. Ideally, I would just buy another pair of new shoes. But that's not really practical.
This was a great race, and I had fun! As always, I appreciated the support of my family. They are always proud of me, no matter how I feel about myself. And they are even willing to wake up at 4:45 a.m.!
Friday, July 22, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Pics from El Dorado
Thanks, as always, to The Photographer.
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| Hey! How 'bout a tri hug? |
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| This is why you hit the loo before your warm-up. |
Monday, June 27, 2011
El Dorado Lake Triathlon 2011
I must have set some bad patterns at last year's race, at least in terms of the mechanics of racing. Next year, maybe I'll get to the race on time, and I won't leave anything important.
Pre-Race
I thought the race was at El Dorado Lake State Park, but it wasn't. Consequently, The Photographer and I drove to the wrong side of the lake, and couldn't find the race start. So we had to drive back over to the west side of the lake, and finally found the Walnut River camping area. At 7:00 a.m. Which was in the Olympic distance race started. Sigh. Fortunately, the volunteers were kind enough to body mark me and let me in to the (already closed) transition area to set up my stuff. One thing I can definitely say about this race is that they're very accommodating! (Last year, I didn't read the race website and didn't know that I needed to pick up my packet the day before, so I arrived to the race late AND without my packet. And they still let me race. I love them.)
After I got my gear set up in transition, I went for a brief barefoot jog on the grass. Then, since I couldn't do a bike warm-up, I did some static and dynamic stretches to help warm my muscles (slower than an active warm-up, but still effective). Once the olympic distancers had all cleared off the swim course, I was able to get in and do a nice, long swim warm up. The water temperature was perfect, it was relatively clear (relative to Kansas lakes), and the lake was calm. It was going to be a great morning for a race.
Swim: 750 m in 12:16 (official race time was 13:56, but that included a long run up to T1)
I love beach starts! No one in Kansas (apparently) knows how to dolphin dive, so I always get a good lead going into the water. I started wide to the right, aiming for the second buoy instead of the first. As soon as I started swimming, I felt good--long and lean, with plenty of energy and a strong pull. Everything felt good. When I was not quite to the second buoy, I caught onto another woman and let her pull me in her draft. It was the best job I've ever done at drafting. She was just a touch faster than me, enough that I could swim at slightly faster than my normal speed and keep up with her. She gave me about 200 yards, then, as we came around the third or fourth buoy, she sped up and dropped me. I came out of the water as the third or fourth woman, though, and I was happy with my swim.
T1: 37
8th best T1 time, overall (men and women). I think that's pretty good. Passed the girl who pulled for me in T1, too. She stopped to put on socks.
Bike: 20 km in 38:36 (19.3 MPH)
I passed EVERYONE on the bike. Okay, not literally everyone. But almost everyone. I decided early on in the bike to roll the dice, bike as hard as I could, and see if I could hold on for the run. So I let myself hammer, a little bit, especially on the hills and into the wind. I just focused on reeling in one athlete after another.
The only really interesting thing that happened was that I passed a girl about two miles before T2 who was in my age group. "Aha!" I thought. "That's the last of them! Now I just need to hold her off!" I tried not to look back to see where she was. She passed me back just before T2.
T2: 42 seconds
That's about twice as long as it should take. Clearly, I need some practice. I nailed my dismount, but struggled a bit to put on my running shoes. I had to tell myself to slow down and be calm; it only takes longer if you let yourself stress out over it. Unfortunately, that girl who passed me back was off like a frickin' rocket!
Run: 28:13 (9:07/mile)
Sigh . . . It's not that I did badly on this, exactly. But I didn't do well enough. The girl who passed me right before T2 took off, and I knew right away that I wasn't going to be running her down. She ended up running a 24:46. What really bums me out, though, is that I let myself get run off the podium. There was this young girl who burned up the 5-minute lead I had on her going into the run and put another 2 minutes into me on the last mile to take third. I saw her coming after the turn-around, maybe 60 seconds behind me, and I knew I wouldn't be able to hold her off.
I've been doing my threshold runs at 8:30 pace, so I was disappointed that I couldn't hold that. And it's not, I don't think, because my body couldn't handle it. I think I just didn't have the mental fortitude to make myself run that pace. I could feel myself accelerating, at times, and tried to let myself just go with it. But then I would catch myself slowing, again.
Total: 1:22:04, 4th female overall, 1st female 25-29, 20th overall
Not a bad result, you know? And I feel like I really did my best work, out there. I had a great swim, I owned the bike course, and I did my best on the run. I really did. I should be happy with the result. And it's not like this was an A race or anything. I didn't taper. I had a hard week of training leading up to it.
But I don't like getting beat!
It's clear to me that the area I really need to work on, still, is my run. I haven't really had a definite focus, this season; my focus has been on getting back into the sport after a year off. My goal for the season is to finish Shawnee Mission well. I've been working out hard, but it's a year of general improvement, not precise focus.
I have to admit, though, that what I really want at Shawnee Mission--what I really think I can do--is top ten. And if I don't get that, I will be very hungry for next year.
Pre-Race
I thought the race was at El Dorado Lake State Park, but it wasn't. Consequently, The Photographer and I drove to the wrong side of the lake, and couldn't find the race start. So we had to drive back over to the west side of the lake, and finally found the Walnut River camping area. At 7:00 a.m. Which was in the Olympic distance race started. Sigh. Fortunately, the volunteers were kind enough to body mark me and let me in to the (already closed) transition area to set up my stuff. One thing I can definitely say about this race is that they're very accommodating! (Last year, I didn't read the race website and didn't know that I needed to pick up my packet the day before, so I arrived to the race late AND without my packet. And they still let me race. I love them.)
After I got my gear set up in transition, I went for a brief barefoot jog on the grass. Then, since I couldn't do a bike warm-up, I did some static and dynamic stretches to help warm my muscles (slower than an active warm-up, but still effective). Once the olympic distancers had all cleared off the swim course, I was able to get in and do a nice, long swim warm up. The water temperature was perfect, it was relatively clear (relative to Kansas lakes), and the lake was calm. It was going to be a great morning for a race.
Swim: 750 m in 12:16 (official race time was 13:56, but that included a long run up to T1)
I love beach starts! No one in Kansas (apparently) knows how to dolphin dive, so I always get a good lead going into the water. I started wide to the right, aiming for the second buoy instead of the first. As soon as I started swimming, I felt good--long and lean, with plenty of energy and a strong pull. Everything felt good. When I was not quite to the second buoy, I caught onto another woman and let her pull me in her draft. It was the best job I've ever done at drafting. She was just a touch faster than me, enough that I could swim at slightly faster than my normal speed and keep up with her. She gave me about 200 yards, then, as we came around the third or fourth buoy, she sped up and dropped me. I came out of the water as the third or fourth woman, though, and I was happy with my swim.
T1: 37
8th best T1 time, overall (men and women). I think that's pretty good. Passed the girl who pulled for me in T1, too. She stopped to put on socks.
Bike: 20 km in 38:36 (19.3 MPH)
I passed EVERYONE on the bike. Okay, not literally everyone. But almost everyone. I decided early on in the bike to roll the dice, bike as hard as I could, and see if I could hold on for the run. So I let myself hammer, a little bit, especially on the hills and into the wind. I just focused on reeling in one athlete after another.
The only really interesting thing that happened was that I passed a girl about two miles before T2 who was in my age group. "Aha!" I thought. "That's the last of them! Now I just need to hold her off!" I tried not to look back to see where she was. She passed me back just before T2.
T2: 42 seconds
That's about twice as long as it should take. Clearly, I need some practice. I nailed my dismount, but struggled a bit to put on my running shoes. I had to tell myself to slow down and be calm; it only takes longer if you let yourself stress out over it. Unfortunately, that girl who passed me back was off like a frickin' rocket!
Run: 28:13 (9:07/mile)
Sigh . . . It's not that I did badly on this, exactly. But I didn't do well enough. The girl who passed me right before T2 took off, and I knew right away that I wasn't going to be running her down. She ended up running a 24:46. What really bums me out, though, is that I let myself get run off the podium. There was this young girl who burned up the 5-minute lead I had on her going into the run and put another 2 minutes into me on the last mile to take third. I saw her coming after the turn-around, maybe 60 seconds behind me, and I knew I wouldn't be able to hold her off.
I've been doing my threshold runs at 8:30 pace, so I was disappointed that I couldn't hold that. And it's not, I don't think, because my body couldn't handle it. I think I just didn't have the mental fortitude to make myself run that pace. I could feel myself accelerating, at times, and tried to let myself just go with it. But then I would catch myself slowing, again.
Total: 1:22:04, 4th female overall, 1st female 25-29, 20th overall
Not a bad result, you know? And I feel like I really did my best work, out there. I had a great swim, I owned the bike course, and I did my best on the run. I really did. I should be happy with the result. And it's not like this was an A race or anything. I didn't taper. I had a hard week of training leading up to it.
But I don't like getting beat!
It's clear to me that the area I really need to work on, still, is my run. I haven't really had a definite focus, this season; my focus has been on getting back into the sport after a year off. My goal for the season is to finish Shawnee Mission well. I've been working out hard, but it's a year of general improvement, not precise focus.
I have to admit, though, that what I really want at Shawnee Mission--what I really think I can do--is top ten. And if I don't get that, I will be very hungry for next year.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Race Report: River Run '11
This will be a short race report, because there's not much to say.
Hot, hot, hot. It was so hot this year! The difference between having the race in early May, when the mornings are still pretty cool, and early June is huge! Plus, the new course allowed for less wind access. On one hand, that's terrific, as there's no running into headwinds. On the other hand, it makes for a sweltering run. Pretty, but sweltering.
My race was very straightforward. I learned my lesson from last year and started further up in the pack. The first two miles are much more open on the new River Run course, as well, so there's more room to move up if you start too far back.
I didn't have GI issues, or pain, or blisters, or any other eventful happenings. It was just too hot to run very fast. I ended in a fairly respectable 55:11, an 8:52 pace.
I'm not as fast as I was last year or the year before on the run. The past couple years, I've been running in the 8:20s and 8:30s, with ambitions to get under 8:00. So far this year, my runs have been very average. I attribute this to my lack of training through the winter. For the past few years, I've focused on the half marathon distance, building a great base for my run training. This last winter, all I did was bike classes and yoga. Which was fine. I needed that break. But that's why my run is lacking. It makes me excited to hit some half marathons this winter, and try to break two hours!
Hot, hot, hot. It was so hot this year! The difference between having the race in early May, when the mornings are still pretty cool, and early June is huge! Plus, the new course allowed for less wind access. On one hand, that's terrific, as there's no running into headwinds. On the other hand, it makes for a sweltering run. Pretty, but sweltering.
My race was very straightforward. I learned my lesson from last year and started further up in the pack. The first two miles are much more open on the new River Run course, as well, so there's more room to move up if you start too far back.
I didn't have GI issues, or pain, or blisters, or any other eventful happenings. It was just too hot to run very fast. I ended in a fairly respectable 55:11, an 8:52 pace.
I'm not as fast as I was last year or the year before on the run. The past couple years, I've been running in the 8:20s and 8:30s, with ambitions to get under 8:00. So far this year, my runs have been very average. I attribute this to my lack of training through the winter. For the past few years, I've focused on the half marathon distance, building a great base for my run training. This last winter, all I did was bike classes and yoga. Which was fine. I needed that break. But that's why my run is lacking. It makes me excited to hit some half marathons this winter, and try to break two hours!
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Spinning Workout: False Flat
60 minutes of not-quite climbing! Doesn't that sound like fun?
This workout is designed to challenge your legs, and works well on a trainer (although it's perfectly fine for use on a spin bike or stationary bike).
False Flat (60 minutes)
Pride, in the Name of Love (Delirious) - 106 BPM
Some Flowers Bloom Dead (The Wallflowers) - 118 BPM
This is How I Disappear (My Chemical Romance) - 160 BPM
What's My Age Again? (Blink 182) - 159 BPM
Born for This (Paramore) - 186 BPM
Say Aha (Santogold) - 185 BPM
Mornings Eleven (The Magic Numbers) - 104 BPM
Ready, Steady, Go (The Meices) - 180 BPM
Beyond Electric Dreams (Bad Religion) - 177 BPM
Stupid Girl (Garbage) - 121 BPM
Time of Your Song (Matisyahu) - 78 BPM
Even Flow (Pearl Jam) - 103 BPM
Blood on Stone (Ashbury) - 120 BPM
Note: After purchasing the workout, I will send you an e-mail with instructions on how to download.
This is one of my paid workouts. Looking for the free workouts? Go here!
Friday, May 20, 2011
Spinning Workout: Special Custom Edition
This is a workout I did as a custom request for a client, but she never paid for it. So here it is, for your enjoyment and edification! Hope it's a tough one for ya!
Amanda's Cycling workout
Looking for more workouts? Go here!
Monday, April 25, 2011
Spinning Workout: Pyramid
This 45-minute pyramid workout maintains a constant RPM of 70-80 RPM (after the initial warm-up), but includes increases to resistance in a pyramid interval format. Recovery times of 100% between intervals allow for just enough of a break, while keeping the workout challenging.
Pyramid (45 minutes)
Running on Sunshine (Jesus Jackson) - 100 BPM
Heaven on Their Minds (Jesus Christ Superstar) - 122 BPM
Into the Morning (The Weekend) - 155 BPM
Fun, Fun, Fun! (The Beach Boys) - 156 BPM
Bleed American (Jimmy Eat World) - 160 BPM
Black Velvet Band (Dropkick Murphys) - 157 BPM
Everlong (Foo Fighters) - 155 BPM
Thank You (Dido) - 80 BPM
Ladies and Gentlemen (Saliva) - 80 BPM
Step Away from the Cliff (Blue-Eyed Son) - 80 BPM
Gangsta's Paradise (Coolio) - 80 BPM
Ruby Room (The Foxboro Hot Tubs) - 162 BPM
Rough Draft (Yellowcard) - 160 BPM
Note: After purchasing the workout, I will send you an e-mail with instructions on how to download.
This is one of my paid workouts. Looking for the free workouts? Go here!
Friday, April 22, 2011
Race Report: First Gear XC Race 4 - Pawnee Prairie
So, um. This race was in February. Yeah, I'm a little late on updating.
But! But! I promise it is a very good race report and totally worth the wait!
I have been planning to run some of the XC races in Wichita for the past two years, but never get around to it. Mostly, it's because the dates kind of sneak up on me, and I've usually already scheduled other things on Saturday mornings. But Pawnee Prairie Park is one of my favorite running locations in ICT, so I made a point of getting to this.
I was not, how you might say, exactly trained at this point in the year. In fact, I was out of shape. I'd probably run a total of 10 miles in the past two months. So I fully intended to go into the race and treat it like an $8 training run.
And that's exactly what I did. Wait! Wait! Don't leave! I promised you an exciting race report, and I will deliver.
I started in between packs: too slow to keep up with the front runners, but much faster than the next pack back. So I started towards the front, got dropped quickly, and didn't see anyone other than the occasional male as they passed me by . . .
After about a mile, as we were reaching the main turn-around, I heard heavy breathing and footfalls coming up behind me. We were about to get into a narrow section of the trail (moving from pavement to dirt track), so I slowed down and moved to the right so the guy behind me could pass before the path got too narrow. He didn't pass, didn't pass, didn't pass . . . He sure was breathing heavy! He sounded like he was breathing hard enough for two people! Finally, we were well and truly on the dirt, and at that point I wasn't going to let him go around, so I picked it up again and led through the trail section. I know those trails really well; I feel great running soft tracks in my Vibrams; so I figured he could go around me if he wanted to try it.
As we re-emerged from the trees, back onto the pavement, he finally started to pull up alongside me. As he did, I realized that I had actually been hearing three people breathing: the one guy and two women (one of them 5-6 months pregnant). And I didn't really want to be passed by other women--I'd only been passed by men up to that point!--so I picked it up a little bit and ran harder, pacing myself off of them. No one pushed the pace, at that point. I was still running comfortably.
As we got farther into the race, one of the women (the not-pregnant one, let's call her Jill, 'cause that's her name) started to push the pace a little bit. I stayed with her. Suddenly, this was not a training run. This was a race. And I wasn't going to drop off so easily. We set a sharper pace and started to leave the other man and woman behind us. As we came out of the park and onto Pawnee (unpaved, limited-access road), she really started to push. I was feeling okay, so I kept going with her. And then, a good three-quarters mile from the finish, as we were in all but a dead sprint, she gasped to me, "The finish is right ahead, right?" I replied, with some shock, "What? No!" And so she slowed down a little bit. And so I slowed down a little bit (although, in retrospect, that may have been the time when I should have pushed my advantage more).
I did push her over the next half mile or so, trying to break away and drop her, break her spirit, so to speak. But she was very tough and very resilient, and she hung with me the whole time! As we came back into the park, on to the XC course that the race organizers had bush-whacked through the prairie of Pawnee, there was a slight incline. Of course, you realize that slight inclines in Wichita are basically like mountains to anyone from a place with hills, and I was huffing and puffing! Meanwhile, Jill was pulling ahead slowly but surely. I fought to maintain contact, to stay with her, but I was really feeling the effort of the last 1.5 miles (not to mention the previous six months' complete lack of training). She was about 20 yards ahead of me as we came in to the last quarter mile, and turned (what I thought was) the last corner. Still within striking distance, I picked it up, and got to within a hand's reach of her. Then we turned another corner, and I realized there were still about 200 yards left to go. With the finish looking so distant, I gave it up and decided not to kill myself. I let her get away.
Still! I came in fifth out of all the women (34 total). My time was 27:41 (Jill finished in 27:34). Not a stellar 5k time, I will admit, but not bad for untrained, and on trails. I was happy with it.
What I learned from this 5k was a new racing mentality. I have never been able to summon the strength of will to do more than survive in the last 5k of a tri. I've pushed myself to the point beyond pain in an effort not to get passed (at the Easter Sun Run a couple years ago). But I had never before really considered the strategy of racing. Do I go now, or hold back? Should I try to drop her here, try to break her so I don't have to worry about her? Do I have the strength? Do I have the speed? Or is she better than me?
And when I finished, I felt like I was as strong and as fast as her. But she ran a smarter, better race that day. And I know that some of my readers are going to scoff, and think, "Um, hello? You ran a 27-minute 5k! You don't need to think about strategy and 'racing' when it takes you 9+ minutes to run a mile!" And maybe you're right. But I learned something, at this race, so watch out. I might be running 7 minute miles in a couple seasons, and then you better watch your back!
But! But! I promise it is a very good race report and totally worth the wait!
I have been planning to run some of the XC races in Wichita for the past two years, but never get around to it. Mostly, it's because the dates kind of sneak up on me, and I've usually already scheduled other things on Saturday mornings. But Pawnee Prairie Park is one of my favorite running locations in ICT, so I made a point of getting to this.
I was not, how you might say, exactly trained at this point in the year. In fact, I was out of shape. I'd probably run a total of 10 miles in the past two months. So I fully intended to go into the race and treat it like an $8 training run.
And that's exactly what I did. Wait! Wait! Don't leave! I promised you an exciting race report, and I will deliver.
I started in between packs: too slow to keep up with the front runners, but much faster than the next pack back. So I started towards the front, got dropped quickly, and didn't see anyone other than the occasional male as they passed me by . . .
After about a mile, as we were reaching the main turn-around, I heard heavy breathing and footfalls coming up behind me. We were about to get into a narrow section of the trail (moving from pavement to dirt track), so I slowed down and moved to the right so the guy behind me could pass before the path got too narrow. He didn't pass, didn't pass, didn't pass . . . He sure was breathing heavy! He sounded like he was breathing hard enough for two people! Finally, we were well and truly on the dirt, and at that point I wasn't going to let him go around, so I picked it up again and led through the trail section. I know those trails really well; I feel great running soft tracks in my Vibrams; so I figured he could go around me if he wanted to try it.
As we re-emerged from the trees, back onto the pavement, he finally started to pull up alongside me. As he did, I realized that I had actually been hearing three people breathing: the one guy and two women (one of them 5-6 months pregnant). And I didn't really want to be passed by other women--I'd only been passed by men up to that point!--so I picked it up a little bit and ran harder, pacing myself off of them. No one pushed the pace, at that point. I was still running comfortably.
As we got farther into the race, one of the women (the not-pregnant one, let's call her Jill, 'cause that's her name) started to push the pace a little bit. I stayed with her. Suddenly, this was not a training run. This was a race. And I wasn't going to drop off so easily. We set a sharper pace and started to leave the other man and woman behind us. As we came out of the park and onto Pawnee (unpaved, limited-access road), she really started to push. I was feeling okay, so I kept going with her. And then, a good three-quarters mile from the finish, as we were in all but a dead sprint, she gasped to me, "The finish is right ahead, right?" I replied, with some shock, "What? No!" And so she slowed down a little bit. And so I slowed down a little bit (although, in retrospect, that may have been the time when I should have pushed my advantage more).
I did push her over the next half mile or so, trying to break away and drop her, break her spirit, so to speak. But she was very tough and very resilient, and she hung with me the whole time! As we came back into the park, on to the XC course that the race organizers had bush-whacked through the prairie of Pawnee, there was a slight incline. Of course, you realize that slight inclines in Wichita are basically like mountains to anyone from a place with hills, and I was huffing and puffing! Meanwhile, Jill was pulling ahead slowly but surely. I fought to maintain contact, to stay with her, but I was really feeling the effort of the last 1.5 miles (not to mention the previous six months' complete lack of training). She was about 20 yards ahead of me as we came in to the last quarter mile, and turned (what I thought was) the last corner. Still within striking distance, I picked it up, and got to within a hand's reach of her. Then we turned another corner, and I realized there were still about 200 yards left to go. With the finish looking so distant, I gave it up and decided not to kill myself. I let her get away.
Still! I came in fifth out of all the women (34 total). My time was 27:41 (Jill finished in 27:34). Not a stellar 5k time, I will admit, but not bad for untrained, and on trails. I was happy with it.
What I learned from this 5k was a new racing mentality. I have never been able to summon the strength of will to do more than survive in the last 5k of a tri. I've pushed myself to the point beyond pain in an effort not to get passed (at the Easter Sun Run a couple years ago). But I had never before really considered the strategy of racing. Do I go now, or hold back? Should I try to drop her here, try to break her so I don't have to worry about her? Do I have the strength? Do I have the speed? Or is she better than me?
And when I finished, I felt like I was as strong and as fast as her. But she ran a smarter, better race that day. And I know that some of my readers are going to scoff, and think, "Um, hello? You ran a 27-minute 5k! You don't need to think about strategy and 'racing' when it takes you 9+ minutes to run a mile!" And maybe you're right. But I learned something, at this race, so watch out. I might be running 7 minute miles in a couple seasons, and then you better watch your back!
Friday, February 11, 2011
Strength for Swimmers
Hey all! Here's a little treat for you, as you're beginning to build a base for your season. I've integrated some personal training and yoga knowledge to give you a well-rounded set of swimming exercises that you can do with no equipment in very little time. This originated as advice I gave to one of my top-notch swimmers, who was struggling to keep his legs in line with the rest of his body while using a pull buoy. I gave him this assignment to strengthen his core and teach him better alignment.
p.s. Thanks to The Photographer for switching it up and being my videographer. Also, thanks to The Photographer's kids for being so quiet!
p.s. Thanks to The Photographer for switching it up and being my videographer. Also, thanks to The Photographer's kids for being so quiet!
Monday, January 24, 2011
Derby Rec Center Indoor Tri '11
Hey! Guess what I did! A triathlon!
It's been months since I've a done a race, so I wasn't expecting much, especially it's been verrrry recently (only within the past 2-3 weeks) that I've even really thought about training again. It came as quite a surprise when I ended up on the podium! Here's how it broke down . . .
Pre-race
Pre-race
I had a hard time sleeping the night before, and a hard time waking up the morning of. Good thing I prepped my equipment on Saturday night! All I had to do was wake up, get dressed, grab my bag, and go. I had somehow ended up in the first swim wave, this year. In past years, I've (well) not been in the first wave. I was pretty sure there had been some mistake, or else the field was really down in size, if I (at my pace) somehow wound up in the fast group. I realized about halfway through the bike that the reason I had been mis-seeded was because I'd written down my estimated 400 m swim time (7:30) instead of my estimated 500 m swim time. Oops.
At any rate, that meant that I had to be at the DRC at 6:45. I got there at about 5 'til 7. Of course, set up was just a pair of shoes, so it's not like I needed a bunch of time. But it did take time to go and get the stationary bike settings adjusted to my liking, and I did have to pee a couple of times (yes, within the same 30 minutes). That left me with almost no time to warm up. I ended up spinning on the bike for 5 minutes, running 2 laps around the track, then hopping in the pool and sprinting through a 50. And that was my warm-up. Kids, don't try that at home.
Swim: 500 m in 9:02 - 1:48/100m ('09 ~8:30, '08 9:48)
I kind of figured that I would be the last one out of the pool. And I was! The Photographer said not by much, though ("Not by much" turned out to be about a length and a half). I felt awful until about halfway through, when my body had warmed up a little. I've been doing my 100s on about a 1:50 interval, so I'm confident that I could have gone faster with a better warm-up. And I just got back into the pool a couple weeks ago. So. You know.
T1: 1:02
Have I mentioned before that they don't let athletes run through this transition? No running allowed on the pool deck. So we have to walk the whole way. Which is why this took so long.
I kind of figured that I would be the last one out of the pool. And I was! The Photographer said not by much, though ("Not by much" turned out to be about a length and a half). I felt awful until about halfway through, when my body had warmed up a little. I've been doing my 100s on about a 1:50 interval, so I'm confident that I could have gone faster with a better warm-up. And I just got back into the pool a couple weeks ago. So. You know.
T1: 1:02
Have I mentioned before that they don't let athletes run through this transition? No running allowed on the pool deck. So we have to walk the whole way. Which is why this took so long.
Bike: 6 mi in 15:26 - 23.3 MPH ('09 16:43, '08 19:00)
Ha! I am awesome! I got the second-fastest bike split out of all the women! My friend Heidi was the only one who beat me; she finished in 15:25. Of course, cycling is the one thing I've still been doing consistently. 'Cause (you know) it's my job. Besides which, the cycling protocol we use at Genesis is Body Training System's Group Ride. Which spins at speeds anywhere from 50-130 RPM. 130 RPM, guys. And the bikes at the DRC are set to track distance off of revolutions vs. wattage. Which means that the faster you can spin, the faster you'll be done. Apparently, all that fast spinning in cycling class pays off!T2: 24 s
I was allowed to run during this transition.
Run: 2 mi in 17:11 - 8:35/mile ('09 18:00, '08 18:18)
Wow. I guess this a pretty significant improvement, too. I mean, it's still not super-human fast or anything. And still not fast enough to keep me from being run down by at least two other women (in the whole world. All the other women in the world are going to have to prove themselves more awesome than I). But it represents a significant improvement for me over the last time I did this race.
Total: 43:05, 3rd F overall ('09 44:19, '08 48:36)
With a total of 1:26 in transitions, that gives me 43:05. Last time I did this race? 44:19. And I didn't even get an award. I placed one place out of the awards, last time. This year? Third female overall. And I got a gift card to Road ID instead of a plaque!
I'm aware of the fact that the race size and field were smaller and less competitive this year. There was another indoor triathlon going on at the Y simultaneously. But you know what? I still got third place overall. And I've still improved greatly. And those other women who didn't show up at the race? For all we know, I would have beaten them, too. If they want to disagree with that, then they'll just have to go toe-to-toe with me this summer, and we'll find out!
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Strength for Swimmers
Hey all. Here's a little video with some strength and flexibility exercises for your swimming. Keep in mind that in between now and when you start your base building phase you have the perfect opportunity to improve your strength and flexibility in ways that will make your training more effective later. So take advantage of this time by starting to do these exercises in the next month or two!
By the way, the little noises in the background are The Photographer's kids :-)
By the way, the little noises in the background are The Photographer's kids :-)
Friday, December 17, 2010
Triathlete Yoga
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| This is Rich. He's a triathlete. He's in Supta Virasana (Reclining Hero Pose). Doesn't he look like he's having fun? |
I've organized a yoga program especially for endurance athletes (runners, cyclists, swimmers, triathletes). It will focus on flexibility in the hips and legs, strength in the body, proprioceptive awareness, and mental focus. I think it will be a great way to train the brain for racing! More importantly, you'll be under the tutelage of an instructor who knows a great deal about endurance sports, yoga, AND the biomechanics of of both.
Classes will begin Saturday, Jan. 15, at 11:30 a.m. Location will be 3725 W. 13th St., Wichita, KS (this is the Genesis location on West 13th). Athletes who don't have a Genesis membership are welcome to join the class! It will include 6 sessions (1 each Saturday) and the cost is $65 ($50 if you're already a member of Genesis Health Club).
I will offer two free preview classes, so you can get a sense of what benefit the class might provide. The first will be Sunday, Jan. 2, at 1:00 p.m. (location will be the Rock Road Genesis, 1551 N. Rock Rd., Wichita, KS); the second will be Saturday, Jan. 8, at 11:30 a.m. (3725 W. 13th St., again). Again, both classes are free! No sign-up is necessary, although if you've never been to a Genesis Health Club, you will need to fill out a guest waiver for liability purposes, so allow time for that. Wear comfortable clothes (they don't have to be "yoga" clothes), dress in layers, and bring a yoga mat if you have one (we have spares, if you don't have one).
If you have any questions (or need to be convinced that this class series will help you, because it most definitely will), please feel free to e-mail me: trihardist@trihardist.com.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Closing Down
So I was going to do one last race, this season.
But I've changed my mind.
I don't really want to do the Derby Rock 'n' Route Tri. Don't get me wrong--it's a great race! I highly recommend it! But you know what? I'm ready to be done with tris for a while. Right now, I'm teaching spinning classes and water aerobics and yoga, and I'm happy with that. I feel no desire to swim or bike or run. Well, maybe a little desire. But not enough to want to train and race.
Yes, I'm sure I'll come back to the sport, eventually. Endurance will be a part of my life again. But right now I just need a break. And I'm ready to give myself some space to take it.
Not sure what I'll do with the blog, now. Probably continue with the cycling workouts. Maybe do a post on biomechanics or form, if I'm in the mood to get all technically minded. And I might come back to do some cyclocross later this year. We'll see.
Right now, the Photographer is running and biking and getting into all kinds of shape. And I will be doing just enough training to keep up with her. I'm very happy with that.
Very happy.
But I've changed my mind.
I don't really want to do the Derby Rock 'n' Route Tri. Don't get me wrong--it's a great race! I highly recommend it! But you know what? I'm ready to be done with tris for a while. Right now, I'm teaching spinning classes and water aerobics and yoga, and I'm happy with that. I feel no desire to swim or bike or run. Well, maybe a little desire. But not enough to want to train and race.
Yes, I'm sure I'll come back to the sport, eventually. Endurance will be a part of my life again. But right now I just need a break. And I'm ready to give myself some space to take it.
Not sure what I'll do with the blog, now. Probably continue with the cycling workouts. Maybe do a post on biomechanics or form, if I'm in the mood to get all technically minded. And I might come back to do some cyclocross later this year. We'll see.
Right now, the Photographer is running and biking and getting into all kinds of shape. And I will be doing just enough training to keep up with her. I'm very happy with that.
Very happy.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Race Report: El Dorado Triathlon
I had fun!!!!!
That was the main goal, and mission accomplished. I felt so blah after the Lawrence half, where I didn't meet my goals, and at Emporia, where I totally did, that I was afraid I might be done with triathlon for an extended period. Like a year or two. But this race may have changed my mind. At any rate, I didn't take myself too seriously. Actually, I probably should have taken myself slightly more seriously, as we'll soon see.
Pre-race
Well . . . I probably should have looked at the web site a little more frequently. I woke up at 5:20 Sunday morning (after hitting the snooze button 3 or 4 times), and realized that I was supposed to pick up my packet in El Dorado on Saturday; there was no day-of packet pick up. Whoops #1. The Photographer met me at my house (erm, my parents' house) to ride over to El Dorado together. I'm sure I was a trial to ride with. I was tight and nervous the whole time, worried that I wouldn't get to race because I hadn't picked up my packet on time. She kept telling me to relax and not worry; it would be fine, either way.
I also wasn't quite sure where I was going. I hadn't been to El Dorado Lake for about 18 years. Actually, I'm not sure I'd ever been to El Dorado Lake. Sure, I know where it is (roughly), because you drive over it on I-35 on the way to Kansas City. So I used my magic phone (Blackberry) to go to the race web site and find directions. Whoops #2.
While on the race web site, I noticed that the sprint race started at 8:00. Not 8:30, which is what I'd thought, what I'd planned for. That meant that the olympic race started at 7:00. Not 7:30. So not only had I not picked up my race packet the day before, I had timed the drive so that I would arrive approximately 10 minutes before the race actually started. Um, annoying, much? Whoops #3.
In short, the pre-race ritual was highly stressful. Which turned out to be completely silly. Because I walked up to the body marking table, they asked me my name, gave me my packet, and wrote my numbers on me. No questions asked. No comments or reprimands. No wheedling or pleading. So. Frickin'. Cool.
From there, everything went smoothly. I deliberately brought my road bike--not my tri bike!--so that I wouldn't take myself so seriously. Consequentially, I had my SPD cyclocross shoes instead of my tri shoes. Which meant that I (like a n00b) would have to actually sit my butt down on the ground, pull my shoes on, run out of transition in my shoes, and then clip in. Like a plebeian. And I was stoked about it.
I didn't warm up; I didn't listen to my pre-game music. I stood around and talked with my friends and The Photographer. 10 minutes before my race started, I realized that I hadn't lubed my running shoes (I was still going without socks; after all, I do have some pride). Not only that, the packet of Body Glide I had brought for that purpose was still sitting in my running shoe. Where I'd put it. So I wouldn't forget to lube my shoes. I checked the time. 10 'til. Well, one more thing to make sure that I don't take myself too seriously in transition!
I did swim about 100 yards out and back before the swim start. So. You know. Kind of a warm up.
Swim: 500 m, 13:52 (2:07/100)
Well, the swim course was (I was told) measured long. But who cares? I had fun! The men did a beach start for the swim, but apparently that's too tough for the girlie girls; we started knee deep in water. And they didn't specify how far out into the water we could go before the start, so I suppose I should have kept walking out into the water. Maybe then it would have been closer to 500 m.
I got a pretty decent start, going out fast in the first 50, then settling in. I felt strong and confident, if not necessarily fast. The lake was small and still. Sighting was a breeze. I felt like I got left behind, towards the beginning, but then I can never really tell in the scrum of an open water swim. I do know that I passed several people towards the end, and probably would have passed more if the swim had been longer than 500. I came out as the 7th woman. 15th fastest swim, overall.
T1: 50 seconds
Even with sitting down to put on my bike shoes, I still had the 5th fastest T1 time. Huh. Go figure.
Bike: 39:40 (18.8 MPH)
Eh, not bad. This was where I felt strongest and most capable, and I was hoping to average at least 20 MPH. But it was all fun, so why would I complain? I was the 5th fastest woman, so I guess I'm okay with that. Especially since I haven't trained since the half ironman! Unless you count cycling classes (which I don't, because they're my job). Or the ride I did last weekend where I averaged 13.9 MPH. Which was fun, but--again!--I don't think those count. And at any rate, I had a mess of fun.
T2: 50 seconds
Well, 15 seconds wasn't that fast, coming from bike to run. But remember when I forgot to lube my shoes? I sat down and smeared chamois butter all over my ankles so I wouldn't have chafing on my ankles. Also, I couldn't get my race belt to clip.
Run: 5k, 29:51 (9:38/mile)
Oofh. So slow. But you know how I didn't train on the bike at all in the 3 weeks before this race? Yeah, I trained even less for the run. I literally had not run more than a quarter of a mile since my half ironman. And it was hot. Oh! And I got a horribly bad blister on my right instep after about 2 miles. It was so bad that I ended up taking my shoes off and running the last mile in bare feet. I stepped on a thorn, at one point, so I had to slow down and take that out. And I also dropped my shoe and had to go back for it. So those things have got to account for at least a little bit of time.
I passed another woman right before the turn-around, and really turned on the gas to try to psych her out. But she passed me back after I took my shoes off. I passed one other woman in the last mile, and we leap-frogged (leapt-frog? leaped frog?) over the next few hundred meters, as I sat down to pull the thorn out of my foot and went back to pick up my dropped shoe. I finally passed her for good before the last two turns to the finish line.
Within the last 10 meters, as I was thinking How strong do I want to kick?, I heard from behind me, "I'm gonna beat you, Jamie!" It was my friend (and former employee), Erin Clair, in her triathlon debut. She outkicked me by a nose, but I guess my timing chip got across the line before hers did, because I came in ahead of her in the results. We had the exact same time, though. Exact same time. I was so pissed (but not really, because I wasn't taking myself that seriously). I did throw a shoe at her.
Total: 1:25:01
Not a bad little race. I had a good, good time. There were lots of people I knew. There was a small but respectable field. The Photographer was there. And I achieved my only goal: have fun.
That was the main goal, and mission accomplished. I felt so blah after the Lawrence half, where I didn't meet my goals, and at Emporia, where I totally did, that I was afraid I might be done with triathlon for an extended period. Like a year or two. But this race may have changed my mind. At any rate, I didn't take myself too seriously. Actually, I probably should have taken myself slightly more seriously, as we'll soon see.
Pre-race
Well . . . I probably should have looked at the web site a little more frequently. I woke up at 5:20 Sunday morning (after hitting the snooze button 3 or 4 times), and realized that I was supposed to pick up my packet in El Dorado on Saturday; there was no day-of packet pick up. Whoops #1. The Photographer met me at my house (erm, my parents' house) to ride over to El Dorado together. I'm sure I was a trial to ride with. I was tight and nervous the whole time, worried that I wouldn't get to race because I hadn't picked up my packet on time. She kept telling me to relax and not worry; it would be fine, either way.
I also wasn't quite sure where I was going. I hadn't been to El Dorado Lake for about 18 years. Actually, I'm not sure I'd ever been to El Dorado Lake. Sure, I know where it is (roughly), because you drive over it on I-35 on the way to Kansas City. So I used my magic phone (Blackberry) to go to the race web site and find directions. Whoops #2.
While on the race web site, I noticed that the sprint race started at 8:00. Not 8:30, which is what I'd thought, what I'd planned for. That meant that the olympic race started at 7:00. Not 7:30. So not only had I not picked up my race packet the day before, I had timed the drive so that I would arrive approximately 10 minutes before the race actually started. Um, annoying, much? Whoops #3.
In short, the pre-race ritual was highly stressful. Which turned out to be completely silly. Because I walked up to the body marking table, they asked me my name, gave me my packet, and wrote my numbers on me. No questions asked. No comments or reprimands. No wheedling or pleading. So. Frickin'. Cool.
From there, everything went smoothly. I deliberately brought my road bike--not my tri bike!--so that I wouldn't take myself so seriously. Consequentially, I had my SPD cyclocross shoes instead of my tri shoes. Which meant that I (like a n00b) would have to actually sit my butt down on the ground, pull my shoes on, run out of transition in my shoes, and then clip in. Like a plebeian. And I was stoked about it.
I didn't warm up; I didn't listen to my pre-game music. I stood around and talked with my friends and The Photographer. 10 minutes before my race started, I realized that I hadn't lubed my running shoes (I was still going without socks; after all, I do have some pride). Not only that, the packet of Body Glide I had brought for that purpose was still sitting in my running shoe. Where I'd put it. So I wouldn't forget to lube my shoes. I checked the time. 10 'til. Well, one more thing to make sure that I don't take myself too seriously in transition!
I did swim about 100 yards out and back before the swim start. So. You know. Kind of a warm up.
Swim: 500 m, 13:52 (2:07/100)
Well, the swim course was (I was told) measured long. But who cares? I had fun! The men did a beach start for the swim, but apparently that's too tough for the girlie girls; we started knee deep in water. And they didn't specify how far out into the water we could go before the start, so I suppose I should have kept walking out into the water. Maybe then it would have been closer to 500 m.
I got a pretty decent start, going out fast in the first 50, then settling in. I felt strong and confident, if not necessarily fast. The lake was small and still. Sighting was a breeze. I felt like I got left behind, towards the beginning, but then I can never really tell in the scrum of an open water swim. I do know that I passed several people towards the end, and probably would have passed more if the swim had been longer than 500. I came out as the 7th woman. 15th fastest swim, overall.
T1: 50 seconds
Even with sitting down to put on my bike shoes, I still had the 5th fastest T1 time. Huh. Go figure.
Bike: 39:40 (18.8 MPH)
Eh, not bad. This was where I felt strongest and most capable, and I was hoping to average at least 20 MPH. But it was all fun, so why would I complain? I was the 5th fastest woman, so I guess I'm okay with that. Especially since I haven't trained since the half ironman! Unless you count cycling classes (which I don't, because they're my job). Or the ride I did last weekend where I averaged 13.9 MPH. Which was fun, but--again!--I don't think those count. And at any rate, I had a mess of fun.
T2: 50 seconds
Well, 15 seconds wasn't that fast, coming from bike to run. But remember when I forgot to lube my shoes? I sat down and smeared chamois butter all over my ankles so I wouldn't have chafing on my ankles. Also, I couldn't get my race belt to clip.
Run: 5k, 29:51 (9:38/mile)
Oofh. So slow. But you know how I didn't train on the bike at all in the 3 weeks before this race? Yeah, I trained even less for the run. I literally had not run more than a quarter of a mile since my half ironman. And it was hot. Oh! And I got a horribly bad blister on my right instep after about 2 miles. It was so bad that I ended up taking my shoes off and running the last mile in bare feet. I stepped on a thorn, at one point, so I had to slow down and take that out. And I also dropped my shoe and had to go back for it. So those things have got to account for at least a little bit of time.
I passed another woman right before the turn-around, and really turned on the gas to try to psych her out. But she passed me back after I took my shoes off. I passed one other woman in the last mile, and we leap-frogged (leapt-frog? leaped frog?) over the next few hundred meters, as I sat down to pull the thorn out of my foot and went back to pick up my dropped shoe. I finally passed her for good before the last two turns to the finish line.
Within the last 10 meters, as I was thinking How strong do I want to kick?, I heard from behind me, "I'm gonna beat you, Jamie!" It was my friend (and former employee), Erin Clair, in her triathlon debut. She outkicked me by a nose, but I guess my timing chip got across the line before hers did, because I came in ahead of her in the results. We had the exact same time, though. Exact same time. I was so pissed (but not really, because I wasn't taking myself that seriously). I did throw a shoe at her.
Total: 1:25:01
Not a bad little race. I had a good, good time. There were lots of people I knew. There was a small but respectable field. The Photographer was there. And I achieved my only goal: have fun.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Race Report: IM 70.3 KS 2010
Okay, so this race wasn't all I hoped it would be. I didn't reach my goals. I didn't have a great race, or even a good race. But I'm over it now, and I finally feel ready to break it down. Let's try to figure out where I went wrong.
Pre-race
By far the best part of the weekend. The Photographer and I headed up to Lawrence Friday night, set up camp, and settled in for an awesome time. Dinner was baked potatoes and chicken rubbed with herbs and pan-grilled over an open flame (provided by yours truly's awesome wilderness survival skills). Temperature was just right--not too hot, not too cold.
Saturday was too hot. Biggest mistake I made was taking my T-shirt off, without considering the fact that I didn't have sunblock on my shoulders, stomach, or back. I got a little crispy. Activities included registration and check-in, an athlete meeting (at which we learned that the water was too warm for wetsuits--yay!), swimming in the lake (temperature was just right), and bike check-in/body marking (which is pointless the day before; my numbers always rub off). Saturday night, my teammate and her family joined us at the campsite, and we finished the evening with yoga, cous cous, grilled bell peppers, and Italian sausage.
Sunday morning dawned cooler--downright, cold, relative to the day before. First thing I did was put on my warm ups. I went through the process of lubing, dressing, sunblocking, and dropping everything I needed off in transition. Race seemed a little less well-organized this year than last year; getting through the maul of people trying to enter T1 was downright dangerous. I've never before cut it so close with my pre-race prep, in terms of getting everything done before transition closed. I borrowed a guy's bike pump right at the last minute to check my tire pressure (good thing, too).
I really had to go to the bathroom, but of course there weren't enough johns to go around. So I stood in line for 20 minutes until I decided that I couldn't wait any longer, at which point I figured I would go after the swim, and started stuffing myself into my wetsuit. Oh yeah! Did I mention that water temperature the day of the race was 77.5* F? So wetsuit legal. I seriously debated whether or not to wear mine, but decided in the end to take the advantage of buoyancy and lower drag, at the risk of overheating. The swim waves started a good 10 minutes late with the pros. I was in wave 8, and was rushing down at the last minute (again, because I'd hoped to get into the potty before I had to swim). I had a random stranger zip me into my wetsuit. I returned the favor. Then it was into the water.
Swim: 1.2 miles, 41:16 (2:08/100 m; last year 39:34)
I think the wetsuit was a mistake. Despite the supposed advantages of swimming in a wetsuit, I would much prefer swimming without one, given the choice. I find the suit constricting for my arms and shoulders. I suppose I should invest in a sleeveless suit, if that's the case. But that takes money, and money is something that I would prefer to spend on race entry fees, right now. At any rate, I had issues with the wetsuit. The first was that it was chafing the sunburn I got all around my mid-section the day before. I had an itchy, burny patch on either side of my low back that started to hurt about a third of the way in.
I didn't have any of the problems I had last year. My goggles didn't fog over. I had no trouble sighting. I didn't get caught by the next swim waves and swum over. I felt smooth and strong and confident the whole way out and back. Which is why I'm surprised that my time was slower than last year. I guess there was a little bit of chop, and a little bit of a current on the way back. But I don't know that it was enough to make up for that 1:30 that I lost over last year. Even so, I felt strong coming out of the water, and good about my swim.
T1: 3:33 (last year, 2:56)
But I had to poop. Bad. First thing out of the water, I stripped off my wetsuit and headed for the nearest port-a-john. Fortunately there wasn't a line. I did my business as quickly as possible, and finished exiting my wetsuit right outside the toilet. I ran to my bike (doing my best elite impression and passing all the slow-poke walkers). Then it took me for-ev-er to get all my stuff together for the bike leg. I had trouble getting my helmet and sunglasses lined out, then had trouble getting my spare tube, tire levers, and frame pump into my back pocket. I couldn't get my race belt to snap. I wasn't shaking or anything, but with the clumsiness I demonstrated, I felt downright palsied. So in spite of foregoing socks and having all of my nutrition on my bike ahead of time, I still had a slower transition than last year. But, you know. Pooping.
Bike: 56 miles, 3:01:59 (18.5 MPH, last year 2:56:32)
And this is where the wheels started to come off. I did okay for the first 25 miles or so. I was following my nutrition strategy (2 Fig Newtons every half hour, water as often as I wanted it, salt pills every hour). And then, shortly after the first aid station, I lost a bottle. I think I know where it happened. I was coming down a hill at a high rate of speed, and hit a bump at the bottom. It jarred me a little bit, but I didn't hear anything bounce out, and no one around me said anything. At that point, I had one water bottle (empty), and one Gatorade bottle from an aid station. I lost the bottle that actually had fluid in it. Unfortunately, I didn't realize this until it was time for my next salt pill. I reached back for the bottle, so I could swallow the salt pill, and . . . nothing. So I had that damn pill lodged in the back of my throat until such time as the casing dissolved. It took about 15 minutes. I thought about asking cyclists I passed for a drink of their water, but I wasn't sure if that might count as illegal aid. The worst (funniest?) part was that after the casing of the pill had dissolved, I burped, and totally gleeked salt powder. Guess what? Salt pills? Actually salty!
I was without water for probably about half an hour, worrying the whole time that I was getting dehydrated (I was, by the way). When I finally came upon the next aid station, I grabbed a water bottle for each cage, and sucked a third down right then and there. Shortly after that, I realllllly had to pee. I stopped at the third (and final) aid station to use the port-a-potty. I did (for the record) try to pee on the bike, but no dice. I guess I need to practice that one in training, first.
There was a mandatory dismount on the bike where some oil had been spilled on the road. We had to slow down and carry our bikes around, then re-mount and get going again. Taking that and the potty break into account, I might have equaled my average speed from last year. But that six-minute deficit . . . I don't know. That's much slower.
The fact is, I was underprepared for the course, this year. Last year, I spent a week in the middle of Ohio training physically and mentally resting. I got in some good, long rides in the hills that week. And I spent time out near Latham/Atlanta (the nearest place to find even moderately rolling terrain around here) with friends, training for the hills at Lawrence. Last year, I remember thinking that the difficulty of the course was exagerrated; it didn't seem that tough to me. This year, that course kicked my ass and ate my lunch. Those last few hills, my legs were toast. And I knew this, coming into the run course. I fully believed that run was going to suck major monkey balls. And I was sick to my stomach, and tired. I seriously wondered how I was going to make the transition to running.
T2: 2:26 (last year, 6:09)
Finally! Something I did faster than last year!
Run: 13.1 miles, 2:19:10 (10:38/mile, last year 2:20:21)
The answer to how you make the transition is just to do it. Get in, get out, and get going. If your feet feel like bricks attached to your hips by soggy noodles, run anyway. If your stomach is upset, run anyway. If you think you'll never be able to make it, run anyway. And that's what I did; I ran. I felt awful, but I ran. I told myself that I just had to make it to the first aid station, and then I could walk. I hit the first mile in under 10 minutes, and held my head a little higher after that.
My stomach and legs settled down a little bit after the first big downhill (about 2.5 miles in). I think I ran out of 10-minute miles around mile 3 or 4. After that, I stopped looking at my watch; I decided I didn't want to know. Besides which, my watch strap broke, so my watch was just hanging out in my back jersey pocket with two disintegrated salt pills. Ew.
It was around mile 5 that I started to feel awesome. I always catch a second wind from (about) miles 5-8. At this race, the effect was almost instant; it was just after the 4 mile marker that I started to feel awesome. I said hi to my friends on the course, shouting out encouragement and skipping for my cheering fans who were screaming my name. And the best part was that my Photographer got to see me at that point, at my best.
There were a few things that I did this year that I hadn't managed last year: I ran full-tilt down the big hill both times (last year I couldn't muster the energy to careen down the hill on the second loop), and I ran most of the uphill both times (all but the steepest part). I didn't experience the debilitating cramps that slowed me to a near-crawl last year. More than anything, the last 2 miles, I was just exhausted. I wasn't necessarily hurting; I just couldn't move anymore. It was partly physical, but I think mostly mental. My brain was done long before my body. You know what I didn't do in training this year? Really long bricks. And I think that's what really did me in.
Still, I beat my run time from last year, even if it was by only a minute. And when I came across the line, there was my Photographer, waiting with open arms. That in itself was worth it.
Post-race
Carnage. Not immediately, but also not long after. I sat in an ice bath with a dozen other athletes for a while, and felt fine during that. But I was still sick to my stomach, and had to go to the bathroom again. Did I mention I was on my period again, this year? Yeah. Someone's pheromones screwed up my cycle. So even though the race was a week earlier this year, I still had to race with Mother Nature's monthly gift. Thanks, Mama N. That was really special.
After 5 or 10 minutes in the ice bath, I staggered back to our campsite and proceeded to lay down in the shade. I knew that I should eat something right away, but the thought of food was totally off-putting. I managed to eat a few bites of leftover cous cous, but not enough really to recover. I dozed in the shade while my Photographer was kind enough to go to T1 and T2 to pick up all my gear. By the time she was back, I had stirred myself (slowly and fitfully) enough to pack up the tent. We took the next couple hours to pack up the car. And then we hit the road. She drove. I slept.
When I got back to my house at about 7 p.m., I showered, changed, and collapsed on the couch, ostensibly to read. Of course I fell asleep. Slept straight through the night, about 11 hours total. Woke up and went to work to teach cycling class. After class, took a nap in my car. Saw a few clients. Took another nap in my car. Went home that night and was in bed by 10. I started to feel human again sometime on Tuesday. It took me until Wednesday to recover from my dehydration.
The worst part has been the aftermath. I didn't feel like I did as well as I should have done. My main goal was to go under 6 hours. With the speeds I'd been running, all I really needed to do was maintain on the swim and bike, knock a few minutes off of T2, and run the half marathon I knew I had in me. But that didn't happen. Part of that was on the day. It was unbearably hot; I wasn't the only one who really suffered out there. Last year's ideal conditions allowed me to have a really good first experience, and these conditions were much tougher. Given similar conditions, maybe I would have had a more pleasing performance.
But part of it was that I wasn't as well-prepared for the race this year. The past 6 weeks, I've been unmotivated in training, particularly with long workouts. And I didn't feel good, after the race. Not just physically. But mentally and emotionally. I was happy to be done. But I didn't feel a sense of accomplishment and joy like I have in the past. Maybe it's because I didn't meet my goals. But then at Emporia, I did meet my goals--I had a significant PR and got 2nd overall--and I still wasn't happy about it. So maybe this is more than just one bad race; maybe it's time I took an extended vacation from triathlon.
At any rate, racing aside, I had a great weekend. It was unspeakably wonderful to have the Photographer's support throughout the weekend. I saw a bunch of friends, a bunch of fellow athletes, several of whom came out for the exclusive purpose of cheering. We had a fun weekend camping. It was all-around enjoyable.
And I'm coming to terms with the disappointment of the race. I'm even starting to feel the itch to try again, to do better next time. But I wonder if that's a good thing; maybe I just need to take a year off, let that itch build, until I'm ready to come back and really train again.
By the way, pictures to come, as soon as the Photographer gets them to me :-)
Pre-race
By far the best part of the weekend. The Photographer and I headed up to Lawrence Friday night, set up camp, and settled in for an awesome time. Dinner was baked potatoes and chicken rubbed with herbs and pan-grilled over an open flame (provided by yours truly's awesome wilderness survival skills). Temperature was just right--not too hot, not too cold.
Saturday was too hot. Biggest mistake I made was taking my T-shirt off, without considering the fact that I didn't have sunblock on my shoulders, stomach, or back. I got a little crispy. Activities included registration and check-in, an athlete meeting (at which we learned that the water was too warm for wetsuits--yay!), swimming in the lake (temperature was just right), and bike check-in/body marking (which is pointless the day before; my numbers always rub off). Saturday night, my teammate and her family joined us at the campsite, and we finished the evening with yoga, cous cous, grilled bell peppers, and Italian sausage.
Sunday morning dawned cooler--downright, cold, relative to the day before. First thing I did was put on my warm ups. I went through the process of lubing, dressing, sunblocking, and dropping everything I needed off in transition. Race seemed a little less well-organized this year than last year; getting through the maul of people trying to enter T1 was downright dangerous. I've never before cut it so close with my pre-race prep, in terms of getting everything done before transition closed. I borrowed a guy's bike pump right at the last minute to check my tire pressure (good thing, too).
I really had to go to the bathroom, but of course there weren't enough johns to go around. So I stood in line for 20 minutes until I decided that I couldn't wait any longer, at which point I figured I would go after the swim, and started stuffing myself into my wetsuit. Oh yeah! Did I mention that water temperature the day of the race was 77.5* F? So wetsuit legal. I seriously debated whether or not to wear mine, but decided in the end to take the advantage of buoyancy and lower drag, at the risk of overheating. The swim waves started a good 10 minutes late with the pros. I was in wave 8, and was rushing down at the last minute (again, because I'd hoped to get into the potty before I had to swim). I had a random stranger zip me into my wetsuit. I returned the favor. Then it was into the water.
Swim: 1.2 miles, 41:16 (2:08/100 m; last year 39:34)
I think the wetsuit was a mistake. Despite the supposed advantages of swimming in a wetsuit, I would much prefer swimming without one, given the choice. I find the suit constricting for my arms and shoulders. I suppose I should invest in a sleeveless suit, if that's the case. But that takes money, and money is something that I would prefer to spend on race entry fees, right now. At any rate, I had issues with the wetsuit. The first was that it was chafing the sunburn I got all around my mid-section the day before. I had an itchy, burny patch on either side of my low back that started to hurt about a third of the way in.
I didn't have any of the problems I had last year. My goggles didn't fog over. I had no trouble sighting. I didn't get caught by the next swim waves and swum over. I felt smooth and strong and confident the whole way out and back. Which is why I'm surprised that my time was slower than last year. I guess there was a little bit of chop, and a little bit of a current on the way back. But I don't know that it was enough to make up for that 1:30 that I lost over last year. Even so, I felt strong coming out of the water, and good about my swim.
T1: 3:33 (last year, 2:56)
But I had to poop. Bad. First thing out of the water, I stripped off my wetsuit and headed for the nearest port-a-john. Fortunately there wasn't a line. I did my business as quickly as possible, and finished exiting my wetsuit right outside the toilet. I ran to my bike (doing my best elite impression and passing all the slow-poke walkers). Then it took me for-ev-er to get all my stuff together for the bike leg. I had trouble getting my helmet and sunglasses lined out, then had trouble getting my spare tube, tire levers, and frame pump into my back pocket. I couldn't get my race belt to snap. I wasn't shaking or anything, but with the clumsiness I demonstrated, I felt downright palsied. So in spite of foregoing socks and having all of my nutrition on my bike ahead of time, I still had a slower transition than last year. But, you know. Pooping.
Bike: 56 miles, 3:01:59 (18.5 MPH, last year 2:56:32)
And this is where the wheels started to come off. I did okay for the first 25 miles or so. I was following my nutrition strategy (2 Fig Newtons every half hour, water as often as I wanted it, salt pills every hour). And then, shortly after the first aid station, I lost a bottle. I think I know where it happened. I was coming down a hill at a high rate of speed, and hit a bump at the bottom. It jarred me a little bit, but I didn't hear anything bounce out, and no one around me said anything. At that point, I had one water bottle (empty), and one Gatorade bottle from an aid station. I lost the bottle that actually had fluid in it. Unfortunately, I didn't realize this until it was time for my next salt pill. I reached back for the bottle, so I could swallow the salt pill, and . . . nothing. So I had that damn pill lodged in the back of my throat until such time as the casing dissolved. It took about 15 minutes. I thought about asking cyclists I passed for a drink of their water, but I wasn't sure if that might count as illegal aid. The worst (funniest?) part was that after the casing of the pill had dissolved, I burped, and totally gleeked salt powder. Guess what? Salt pills? Actually salty!
I was without water for probably about half an hour, worrying the whole time that I was getting dehydrated (I was, by the way). When I finally came upon the next aid station, I grabbed a water bottle for each cage, and sucked a third down right then and there. Shortly after that, I realllllly had to pee. I stopped at the third (and final) aid station to use the port-a-potty. I did (for the record) try to pee on the bike, but no dice. I guess I need to practice that one in training, first.
There was a mandatory dismount on the bike where some oil had been spilled on the road. We had to slow down and carry our bikes around, then re-mount and get going again. Taking that and the potty break into account, I might have equaled my average speed from last year. But that six-minute deficit . . . I don't know. That's much slower.
The fact is, I was underprepared for the course, this year. Last year, I spent a week in the middle of Ohio training physically and mentally resting. I got in some good, long rides in the hills that week. And I spent time out near Latham/Atlanta (the nearest place to find even moderately rolling terrain around here) with friends, training for the hills at Lawrence. Last year, I remember thinking that the difficulty of the course was exagerrated; it didn't seem that tough to me. This year, that course kicked my ass and ate my lunch. Those last few hills, my legs were toast. And I knew this, coming into the run course. I fully believed that run was going to suck major monkey balls. And I was sick to my stomach, and tired. I seriously wondered how I was going to make the transition to running.
T2: 2:26 (last year, 6:09)
Finally! Something I did faster than last year!
Run: 13.1 miles, 2:19:10 (10:38/mile, last year 2:20:21)
The answer to how you make the transition is just to do it. Get in, get out, and get going. If your feet feel like bricks attached to your hips by soggy noodles, run anyway. If your stomach is upset, run anyway. If you think you'll never be able to make it, run anyway. And that's what I did; I ran. I felt awful, but I ran. I told myself that I just had to make it to the first aid station, and then I could walk. I hit the first mile in under 10 minutes, and held my head a little higher after that.
My stomach and legs settled down a little bit after the first big downhill (about 2.5 miles in). I think I ran out of 10-minute miles around mile 3 or 4. After that, I stopped looking at my watch; I decided I didn't want to know. Besides which, my watch strap broke, so my watch was just hanging out in my back jersey pocket with two disintegrated salt pills. Ew.
It was around mile 5 that I started to feel awesome. I always catch a second wind from (about) miles 5-8. At this race, the effect was almost instant; it was just after the 4 mile marker that I started to feel awesome. I said hi to my friends on the course, shouting out encouragement and skipping for my cheering fans who were screaming my name. And the best part was that my Photographer got to see me at that point, at my best.
There were a few things that I did this year that I hadn't managed last year: I ran full-tilt down the big hill both times (last year I couldn't muster the energy to careen down the hill on the second loop), and I ran most of the uphill both times (all but the steepest part). I didn't experience the debilitating cramps that slowed me to a near-crawl last year. More than anything, the last 2 miles, I was just exhausted. I wasn't necessarily hurting; I just couldn't move anymore. It was partly physical, but I think mostly mental. My brain was done long before my body. You know what I didn't do in training this year? Really long bricks. And I think that's what really did me in.
Still, I beat my run time from last year, even if it was by only a minute. And when I came across the line, there was my Photographer, waiting with open arms. That in itself was worth it.
Post-race
Carnage. Not immediately, but also not long after. I sat in an ice bath with a dozen other athletes for a while, and felt fine during that. But I was still sick to my stomach, and had to go to the bathroom again. Did I mention I was on my period again, this year? Yeah. Someone's pheromones screwed up my cycle. So even though the race was a week earlier this year, I still had to race with Mother Nature's monthly gift. Thanks, Mama N. That was really special.
After 5 or 10 minutes in the ice bath, I staggered back to our campsite and proceeded to lay down in the shade. I knew that I should eat something right away, but the thought of food was totally off-putting. I managed to eat a few bites of leftover cous cous, but not enough really to recover. I dozed in the shade while my Photographer was kind enough to go to T1 and T2 to pick up all my gear. By the time she was back, I had stirred myself (slowly and fitfully) enough to pack up the tent. We took the next couple hours to pack up the car. And then we hit the road. She drove. I slept.
When I got back to my house at about 7 p.m., I showered, changed, and collapsed on the couch, ostensibly to read. Of course I fell asleep. Slept straight through the night, about 11 hours total. Woke up and went to work to teach cycling class. After class, took a nap in my car. Saw a few clients. Took another nap in my car. Went home that night and was in bed by 10. I started to feel human again sometime on Tuesday. It took me until Wednesday to recover from my dehydration.
The worst part has been the aftermath. I didn't feel like I did as well as I should have done. My main goal was to go under 6 hours. With the speeds I'd been running, all I really needed to do was maintain on the swim and bike, knock a few minutes off of T2, and run the half marathon I knew I had in me. But that didn't happen. Part of that was on the day. It was unbearably hot; I wasn't the only one who really suffered out there. Last year's ideal conditions allowed me to have a really good first experience, and these conditions were much tougher. Given similar conditions, maybe I would have had a more pleasing performance.
But part of it was that I wasn't as well-prepared for the race this year. The past 6 weeks, I've been unmotivated in training, particularly with long workouts. And I didn't feel good, after the race. Not just physically. But mentally and emotionally. I was happy to be done. But I didn't feel a sense of accomplishment and joy like I have in the past. Maybe it's because I didn't meet my goals. But then at Emporia, I did meet my goals--I had a significant PR and got 2nd overall--and I still wasn't happy about it. So maybe this is more than just one bad race; maybe it's time I took an extended vacation from triathlon.
At any rate, racing aside, I had a great weekend. It was unspeakably wonderful to have the Photographer's support throughout the weekend. I saw a bunch of friends, a bunch of fellow athletes, several of whom came out for the exclusive purpose of cheering. We had a fun weekend camping. It was all-around enjoyable.
And I'm coming to terms with the disappointment of the race. I'm even starting to feel the itch to try again, to do better next time. But I wonder if that's a good thing; maybe I just need to take a year off, let that itch build, until I'm ready to come back and really train again.
By the way, pictures to come, as soon as the Photographer gets them to me :-)
Monday, June 7, 2010
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Pre-Race: IMKS 70.3 2010
I can't sleep.
I have a half ironman in less than 5 days.
I don't really have the mental capacity to write a full blog post, but I have to write something.
I'm not nervous, or anything. Just can't sleep. It's like I can feel individual synapses firing in my brain when I lay still enough. Gah.
I'm so ready for this race. Should have started training about a month later than I did. I feel like I've had six weeks of tapering. My base building was done eons ago. I know I have the fitness to get through the race. And maybe all the sharpening has put me in position to go faster than ever. What do we think? Definitely sub-6:00. Maybe a 2:05 1/2 marathon? How about I really go for it and shoot for a 1/2 marathon PR? No, I don't think that's realistic. But sub-6:00? Hell yeah.
Okay. I'm going to go try to sleep again.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Race Report: River Run '10
PR! PR! PR!
So . . . this race report is over 2 weeks late. If I were pregnant, and the baby were 2 weeks late, I would be pissed. It's a good thing my blog is not my baby. Because if it were, it would have died from neglect this month.
Anyway. Back into the race report.
The River Run is THE race in Wichita. Actually, it's arguably the largest race in Kansas (the big Kansas City races are on the MO side, natch). There were around 2200 signed up for the 10k, and another 3200 who finished the 2 mile race. More people than that signed up, but that's how many finished. The River Run has had up to 10,000 participants in past years. In other words, around here it's a big deal.
 |
| That's me and The Photographer. And Craig. From cycling class. |
I rode my bike to the race, all on the bike paths. It was a little chilly, and my hands and feet were frozen by the time I reached downtown Wichita. The Photographer was there, and I found her right away. What took me much longer was finding my dad. I was later than I'd expected to be, and he'd already put his phone away. I found him at our arranged meeting point, and we walked way far away to where he'd parked so I could stow my bike and spare gear in his car. We jogged back to the start line (a good mile), and I decided that I HAD to find a toilet. So I went to stand in a remarkably short port-a-pottie line (great organization from the River Festival folks), and came back out right as they were announcing "90 seconds to the start!" I hustled to the mass of humanity waiting to run, and pressed as far forward as I dared, trying to seed myself for the mass start. This would turn out to be my big mistake for the day.
When the cannon blasted, everyone sort of jumped forward, like they were going to be able to run or something. I walked. No sense in making the 10k one step longer than it has to be! The start line was hard to miss at this race, and so I was able to start my watch right where it should start. The pack was moving slowly, though. I couldn't open up any kind of speed, except in bursts. I really seeded myself too far back; I should have pressed forward closer to the front. I spent a good mile running, walking, and sprinting, trying to get around the slower runners and up to my own speed. Running through the narrow streets of Old Town was the worst. I hopped up onto a raised planter and ran along that for a while, trying to pass people from above. The course cleared out sufficiently after the Old Town section, and I was able to move myself up through the ranks a little.
In spite of the sluggish start, I hit the 2-mile split in 17:01!
After finally working my speed up to a good (for me) pace, I checked my heart rate and settled in at about 163 BPM. I've realized that the best way for me to pace my races is probably by heart rate. I know it's variable, but the last time I tried to run by pace at a 10k, I really blew up. I'll keep experimenting with race strategies, but I was confident that a heart-rate based pace would help me do my best for the River Run. I really wanted to redeem my performance at the Easter Sun Run, at which I was not very happy with my performance.
Keeping my heart rate in the 160s, I tried to find someone off of whom I could mentally draft. You know, let them set the pace and just kind of dove-tail. I ran with a few people for a little bit; one of them seemed almost perfect. She was running just the right pace, and I think I stayed with her for about a 1/2 mile. Then her pace got a little quicker, and my heart rate got a little higher, and I decided that it was harder than I wanted to work before the half-way point. So I let her go, and felt pretty good about it. I hit the half-way point in 25:59.
After the 3-mile mark, I let my heart rate start moving up to 165-168; at 4 miles (34:33), I let it creep up to 170; at 5 miles (42:58), I just opened it up. And right about that time, I came upon the woman who'd out-paced me previously. Apparently she had run a little harder than she could sustain, too. I locked into step with her. We ran right through the water station (I'd made a point of hydrating for two days prior to the race so I wouldn't need to slow down), and I thought I'd lost her in the crowd. Then I spied her a couple yards ahead and most of the way across the road. I reeled her in, then settled down to stay with her until just before the finish.
We played a little bit, testing each other's strength and speed. She'd try to surge; I'd try to surge. Coming around the last corner, with just about 400 m to go, I picked up my pace significantly, hoping to drop her before I had to out-sprint her. No dice. She responded, and stayed right with me. It was less than 100 m to the line before I really opened up the sprint, and felt her slowly dropping back. I crossed the line with her maybe two seconds behind, and stopped my watch at 52:37, a new PR.
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| Me and my running buddy in lockstep. This is right where I started to drop her. |
I had the most vicious side stitch, and my running buddy was bent over like she was going to hurl. I gave her a hug and thanked her for pushing me to my limits. She expressed the same sentiment. My Photographer found me, and we went over together to watch my dad finish. He came across in under an hour--a new PR for him, too! After we collected him, lo and behold! there were my mom and younger brother! They had woken up early (a true sacrifice for my mom) to come see us race! It was very special to me. Thanks to Stephen for helping my mom wake up!
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| My parents and me. |
This was a great race. It was fun and well-organized. Genesis Health Clubs, the gyms at which I work, are one of the main sponsors for the race, so there were plenty of familiar faces on the race course and in the crowd. I ran in to Jerome Biggars, who's lost almost 300 lbs and had run his first 10k that day. I saw buddies from the cycling scene, and from the tri scene. I ran past people I've taught to swim and coached to their first 70.3s. I even ran into a couple who come to my 8:00 Arthritis water aerobics class, whose son was running the 10k.
And my whole family was there, which just can't be beat. Reflecting on it now (two weeks later), I realize that it was one of the best races I've had--fun, friendly, and with a new PR to boot.
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