To start with, I should explain that I am weather-cursed when it comes to long-course triathlon. Here is my proof:
- Eagleman 70.3, June 2012: 90+ degrees with 90+ humidity, a "code orange" day
- Rev3 Williamsburg 70.3, June 2013: OK, this was probably only in the 80s and there was actually pretty decent cloud cover for 2/3rds of the run
- Boulder 70.3, August 2013: 90 degrees and total sun
- Raleigh 70.3, June 2014: low 80s and mostly sunny, this one was a lot better than expected
- St George 70.3, May 2015: 90+ degrees and total sun
- IM Couer d'Alene, June 2015: 105 degrees, I am totally not kidding - hottest it's been in CDA in 100 years and thirty degrees above average for June
- St George 70.3, May 2016: upper 40s/low 50s with intermittent rain and apparently even a little hail; I probably should've been grateful that it wasn't hot but seriously
- Boulder 70.3, June 2016: 95 degrees and not a cloud to be found anywhere
The State of My Head Pre-Race
I was pretty darn calm going into this thing, which was clearly evidenced by the fact that a single pack of gel blocks and some apple sauce squeezers were the sum total of my pre-race purchases. Without doing any math, I can therefore say that this was without a doubt the least expensive of all my long-course races - even if I exclude travel costs from the equation.I was, however, totally annoyed by the weather forecast. At one point of course the forecast had been awesome: 74 degrees or something utterly perfect like that. It never lasts. By mid-week, the point at which you know it's not really changing any more, the forecast was 92 degrees, no clouds before 2pm, and headwinds increasing through the morning and rotating to stay in my face. Good times.
About that same time I realized I really needed to write up my race plan, and simultaneously realized that (a) I kinda knew what I was doing enough at this point - 70.3 #7 - to maybe not need a plan? and (b) I had no idea what I was trying to accomplish with this race. That gave me pause. Showing up at a start line for a 6-ish hour event without a reason is not necessarily going to motivate me to get through said 6-ish hours. So I thought about it, and came up with this reason: For once, I am going to nail my power targets for the bike.
Since getting a power meter, I have never hit my power targets for a race. I think I did enough races on feel, erring on the low end of RPE because that's what I thought I was supposed to do in order to have a good run (which was always a top priority), that I convinced myself that slow was my race pace despite what the power meter said. According to conventional wisdom, you should be at 75-85% of FTP (just go with it if you have no idea what I'm talking about) for a 70.3 bike leg, and I was coming in more like 70%. Granted, I was able to knock out some pretty good runs off those bikes, but my bike times were slower than they needed to be. So - Goal #1: average 80% of FTP on the bike. Goal #2: since I'm going to bike hard and then run in the heat, just hold it together on the run.
Race Morning
Transition opened race morning at 5:30. My swim wave was the very, very last one at 8:18. I arrived at the race site at 5am. Why, you ask? Excellent question, and let me start by saying that it was totally not my idea to arrive that early. My youngest was volunteering with a friend in Transition during the first shift, which started at 5am, and despite the fact that we'd been given verbal permission by the volunteer captain - her friends' mom - to arrive at 5:30, she was absolutely insistent that we arrive no later than 5:10am, and that therefore we had to leave at 4:40am. Her timing, not mine. There was no arguing with her. And I didn't really want to, because I LOVED that she wanted to volunteer and that she was going to be a willing and enthusiastic participant at an event that means so much to me.So - on site and parked at 5am. I walked Daisy down to Transition, said hi to Tasha, and headed back to the car, where I hung out for the next hour. Surfed Facebook, listened to some music, it actually went by pretty quickly. I gathered my bike, pump, nutrition/water bottles, and transition gear and headed in. I took my time getting everything set up, and chatted with the other women who were setting up nearby. Even taking my time, hanging around and doing nothing for a while, I was easily ready by 6:30. So I grabbed my bike pump and headed back to the car, dropped that off, grabbed my wetsuit and other swim stuff, and went to give my keys and my phone to Daisy.
I spent the rest of my pre-race morning hanging out in the D3 tent, killing time and waiting for my day to start. I actually even got in the water and did a few minutes of warm up - first time I've ever done that! Ulterior motive was to make sure my goggles wouldn't leak, since I'd had problems with that at St George. When it finally came time to line up for my last wave, I was pretty happy. Not stressed, not anxious, not nervous. Just ready to go. The race announcer pointed out that the great thing about being last is that you get to pass a lot of people, which lead to my race mantra for the day: "All. Day. Long."
The Swim - 33:21 (PR!)
My swim went really well and was frankly totally uneventful. Long and strong, didn't overdo it but didn't loaf it, stayed on course, and passed a shit ton of people. Plus, being in the last wave, I didn't have to worry about being swum over by strong dudes starting behind me. I did kind of regret not scoping out the course in advance. I had thought, for some reason, that there weren't any buoys between the two turns, and I was dead wrong on that. I had no idea how long that middle leg was, and I'm not good with not knowing the course. But other than that I had a great swim, and was thrilled to see that reflected in my time when I got out of the water.T1 - 4:21
T1 was also totally uneventful. I did have to remind myself to move through with some sense of urgency, but there were no mishaps or trip ups or issues to deal with. Jogged through, got my wetsuit off pretty easily, grabbed my stuff, and was on my way.The Bike - 2:42:06*
So, this is where the rubber hits the road - literally, figuratively, whatever. I got on my bike and wasted no time cranking it up and starting to fly by people. Didn't want to spend the first miles settling in, because that would just be time I would have to make up later. The goal was 2:50, which would require mostly 15 minute splits for 5 miles, and allowed for a few extra minutes for the climb up Nelson and a few minutes for that final mile.This whole bike ride was a blur of miles. I focused constantly on my watts - other than significant descents (really just 36 after Nelson) I was intent on hitting 130-135 watts, which is about 80-85% of FTP for me. Since watts fluctuate second-by-second, I also watched my power average for each 5 mile lap, as that's a better indication of the direction of my overall average for the ride. I did a fantastic job of staying on target, which was my #1 goal and I was thrilled to make that happen.
It wasn't easy, though. I hadn't done a ton of - scratch that, any - long intervals at 70.3 pace. I did a lot of interval work and hill work on the bike, just nothing race-specific like that. I know better. So while I was awesome at staying on target, I was definitely feeling it by mile 20 and feeling it in weird places, like my inner thighs. My upper hamstrings/lower glutes were getting a little cranky by mile 25 and by mile 40 my hip flexors were super cranky, but since my quads were ok I decided that I'd still be able to run. I pushed through the discomfort on the mild or actual ascents by focusing on getting to stretches of road that I knew were slightly or totally downhill, because I knew I'd get a little relief there. And I did, so I was able to hold on till the end and maintain my pace for the whole ride. WOOT WOOT!
I also passed an UNBELIEVABLE number of people. I mean, I was constantly passing people. Constantly as in probably three to twenty people a minute for the first 35 miles until the field finally spread out a little, when it dwindled to passing at least a few people every few minutes. I'll tell ya, that's an ego boost like you wouldn't believe. Doing a little math: say that 2000 people started the race (2500 signed up, but there were a lot of DNS's so I'll go with 2000). There were about 120 in my wave, and my overall rank after the bike was 534. So, taking out a bunch of people that I passed in the water and all the people that still got off the bike ahead of me due to differences in start time, I still passed easily 500 people on the bike and it could've been more like 750.
All in all, I finished the bike leg so proud that I'd hit my targets and stayed consistent for the entire bike leg. I managed the climbs well, and didn't freak out when I hit the headwind coming home. My legs weren't necessarily feeling fresh, but they also weren't totally trashed. I felt strong and like I definitely had another 13.1 in me. And it actually didn't seem too hot while I was on the bike, so maybe the run would be ok. (What a f%&$ing joke.)
*The course was, I'm pretty sure, about 2 miles short. So I've mentally adjusted my bike time to 2:48.
T2 - 4:36
T2 was also totally uneventful. Ran in, racked my bike, swapped out gear, dashed to the port-o-potty (because we all know that after you've popped out a few kids running on anything but an empty bladder is bad news - but hooray for the fact that I was at least properly hydrated!) and headed out.I had, though, made the decision to bail on my hand-held water bottle filled with my Infinit run blend. My theory was that (a) I hate holding the damn thing, (b) despite the fact that I froze it, it's probably nauseatingly warm by now, and (c) I am only supposed to sip it every mile, so it's not going to do me any good between aid stations anyway. So I left the bottle in Transition ... I didn't ever really regret doing that, so I guess I made the right - or at least not a tragically bad - decision, but really who the hell knows.
The Run - 2:16:32
I spent the first mile getting situated. Hat goes on, race belt goes on, gel blocks get eaten. Warm gel blocks are actually easier to eat than room temperature ones. For a few minutes I was thinking I was even ok without my arm coolers, and then I thought - who the f$&% am I kidding - and put those on. One mile in, feeling good, but holding back because that's what you do, and I know better than to do anything else, especially after a strong bike.By 1.2 miles, I realized it was in fact really f$&%ing hot and running aid station to aid station was an appropriate and sufficiently taxing goal. Luckily that was where the first aid station was. Got some water on my arm coolers so they were actually cool, drank some water, and put some ice in my hat. Started running toward aid station two, and while I wasn't feeling great the run still felt very doable. So I made it through the next few aid stations and up the hills on the first loop - although I did walk some of the second hill, because I felt like pushing myself up that hill could potentially sabotage the rest of my run. Turned the corner and started the long, imperceptibly downhill return to start the second loop.
Just after the turn, my watch signaled that I'd completed the first 3 miles, and I looked at my time and pacing for the first time: 29 minutes. So a 9:40 pace for the first 3 miles. Some quick mental calculations: if I did 9:20s on the back half of the course, and pulled off the same 9:40 / 9:20 pace on the second loop, I should be right at my 2:05 target. Awesome. I'd had a good swim, a super solid bike, and if I held on to 2:05 on the run I was going to kick some serious ass. Plus I was now on Monarch and got to enjoy shade from eight or so trees, which - while fleeting - was a lovely break from the sun that had been beating down on my since I left transition. I did notice at this point that all the spectators we were seeing along the course were huddled in the shade. The ones in the Rez had all been under trees, the few people out along 51st were almost all under trees, and on Monarch they were all under trees. It must really be hot.
Even so, I was feeling good when I made the turn onto 63rd, and was excited for the speed boost that comes when you leave gravel for pavement. My excitement quickly evaporated when I was hit with a wave of fatigue immediately upon making the turn. I'm guessing it's the fact that pavement radiates heat like you wouldn't believe, a fact I know all to well from IMCdA'16. A couple of minutes down 63rd and I'm walking - in between aid stations. I am only at mile 4, and I'm walking in between aid stations. I freaked out a little bit, convinced that the next 9 miles were going to be a total shit show of a few minutes walking, a few minutes running, and so on like that for the ludicrous amount of time it would take me to complete 9 miles at a snail's pace.
So I set a target of running a half mile and walking a few hundredths, and doing that as long as I could. I knew that if I could hold on to the run I had the chance for a great time, and if I totally fell apart that dream was gone, and that was motivating me not to give up. But the first time through I think I only made it a few tenths of a mile before I resorted to walking again. Mother f$%&er. Miraculously, though, once we turned off the pavement back onto gravel (to a little out and back that I actually didn't know existed on the course) I started to perk up a bit. I felt like I was running ok, and while I wasn't necessarily running aid station to aid station I was totally fine stopping for just one tiny little bit about halfway between them. At this point I also really focused on getting water and Gatorade in at the aid stations - staying hydrated and sugar'ed up was a key component to maintaining forward momentum.
I checked my watch at mile 6 and saw 1:03. Well, that was not what I'd planned for. Even though I felt like I was running ok, and I was for sure mostly running, my pace was super slow, even for me. I'm sure that it was the heat - there are all kinds of studies that show that you slow down 30 seconds to a minute for every 10 degree increase in temperature - but it was really disappointing nonetheless.
A few minutes later I rounded the corner to wind back behind transition and out on the second loop. I saw Daisy and her friends and boy was that fantastic! Given that my run time sucked anyway, I paused and gave D a quick kiss and then trotted off again. I ran the full mile + along the backside of transition and out to the little hill before hitting 51st, which I had decided long ago that I would walk. But once I started up again I had another little miracle and I started feeling better again. Maybe it was the fluids and sugar kicking in, who knows, but I was doing well and feeling like I could run for a while. I even ran up the first hill and a portion of the second one, which I was not expecting to be able to do at that point.
And then I was once again at that right turn that starts the imperceptible downhill to the finish. I was psyched - I was feeling strong (or at least, stronger than I had been for most of the run), I had about a 5k to go, and I figured the scent of the finish line would pull me home in good time. I kicked it in a bit along Monarch, even though the sun was so high that you didn't even get shade from those eight damn trees.
And then 63rd Street happened. Again. Only 2.5 miles to go at this point, and I just hit a wall. Usually at 2 miles I start counting down, and when I'm close to 2 miles, I'm close enough to start counting down that it motivates me to get there. I really counted on that being the case here, but the heat was just too strong. I caved and walked a few times along 63rd, but thought for sure once I hit gravel and had less than 2 miles I would find that final burst of energy to carry me home.
Not true. The first half mile or so on gravel was ok, but then I started to really break down. It was SO annoying. I had 1.5 miles left, I could f#$%ing see Transition from where I was on the Rez path, and I just couldn't get myself to run for more than a few minutes. In hindsight, this is where I could've used a deeper toolbox of mental skills, or really ANY mental skills, to keep me going. Something to work on before my next one for sure.
I stopped at the last aid station (ludicrous, really, it's probably less than 0.2 miles from there to the finish) and FINALLY headed to that finish arch. I knew my run time sucked, but it really felt like there was nothing I could have done about it. I kicked it in as best I could through the finish but I didn't have much left. I stopped my Garmin after heading through the arch and saw 5:40, which was 5:46 after accounting for the short bike course.
Overall - 5:40:56* / 14th AG / 110th F / 526th Overall
At first, despite the fact that 5:40 (I'll just drop those seconds) is a great time for me, I was a little disappointed. I'm always disappointed with my race if my run sucks, and especially because it usually sucks because I feel like I've given up and walked. My disappointment was especially stupid because 5:45 had been my A goal, and even accounting for those missing bike miles I basically hit it. But like I said, my run generally colors my entire view of my race.I was also a little bummed because I didn't see Daisy at the finish. I had been so excited to have her there and yet I had no idea where she was. I finished, went through the chute and got my water, hat and medal, and could not find that kid. I looked around for a bit, then wandered back to the D3 tent to grab the bag I'd ditched there before the race. I talked to a few people at the tent before heading back to try and find D, and started hearing that EVERYONE's run was slow. It really seemed like everyone was a solid 10 minutes off their run time - just like me! I was starting to feel a little better about my race.
It took me another 30 minutes to find Daisy. I lost five minutes or so to sitting in the shade because I thought I might pass out while I was walking around. When I felt better and the clouds had finally rolled in, I then did the stupid thing of essentially walking around in circles instead of staying in one place and letting the other lost person come to you. Finally we found each other at the D3 tent, and she told me that I'd come in 14th in my age group. 14th!?!?!? OK, now I was totally fine with my race. That was the highest place finish I'd had at any long-course event. Hard to complain about that! (Which of course doesn't mean that I won't come back next year and try to beat it.)
*Mentally adjusted to 5:47 to account for those 2 missing miles on the bike.