I think I owe a everyone poop story. Er, a race review.
The St. Louis marathon is much like the city itself-- perfectly fine, but not living up to its potential. On marathonguide.com there's some d-bag from Rochester that goes into this long tirade about how the city's been plummeting from its high point of 1904, but I'd argue that's true of the entire midwest. In a marathon review. And dude is from Rochester, which doesn't sound like a fun place to live at all-- now OR in 1904.
But I digress.
Race day was great. I got to the start line at 5:45 and met a long row of empty, clean portapotties. Like, really clean. So clean I was breathing normally instead of alternating between gagging and holding my breath. For someone who loves poop stories I have little tolerance for anything poop-related. Give me a puking person and I'll give you a trooper who'll hold back hair and clean up vomit chunks. But traditional bathroom god sacrifices? Ew. Anyway, I used the portapotty, ran into some law school friends/acquaintances, and stretched. Two of the school crowd went to go warm up, and I laughed when they asked me to join them. Of course, when you're going to run sub-8 pace like they did, a warmup is a good idea. Me, I saved it for the race.
I started near the 10:00 pace mark and enjoyed the atmosphere. It was a beautiful day to run. It was 45 degrees at the start, so I had on a long sleeve top and throwaway gloves that have never been thrown away; I almost wore a jacket too, but my shorts were navy and my jacket was black and I didn't want to clash. Seriously. It was a fortuitous concern because I was pretty hot by the time I finished; I'm a short sleeves and shorts kind of girl, something I continually and erroneously doubt. The gun went off and so did we, and 7 minutes (!!) later I crossed the mat.
And so it was. Miles flew by and my mile splits got faster, so I tried to walk more. It didn't help. I saw Sam finish (an impressive 12th overall) when I was passing the halfway point, and that was exciting, if a little sad he ran almost twice as fast as me. I cruised along happy as a clam with my tunes (a prudent move since I forgot my inhaler and my breathing sounded like a dying cow's final gasps). I walked water stations and some hills and mostly tried to have a good time, which was swell for the first 10 miles. Mile 12 turned out to be brutal, but this is hardly surprising given my longest run was 7 miles, and it was over a month ago. But I made it, and with decent splits:
First 2 miles: 20:20
Mile 3: 9:58
Mile 4: 10:40
Mile 5: 9:56
Mile 6: 9:55
Mile 7: 9:54
Mile 8: 10:03
Mile 9: 9:50
Mile 10: 10:07
Mile 11: 10:22
Mile 12:10:55
Mile 13: 9:42
Last .1: 0:58
Total: 2:12:20
Until mile 11 I thought I could make my midrace goal of 2:11, but that didn't happen. Oh well! I still came in the top half of my division and participants overall, which was all I was hoping for. And I broke 1000 calories on my HRM! 1054 baby! It took an average heartrate of 166 to get to 4 caloric digits, but I did it.
The postrace fun was, in fact, fun if disorganized and a little crowded. It's really hard to appreciate any post-marathon stuff after being spoiled by Houston, who does the best job with the finish line of any race I've seen. I wasn't very hungry on account of the tummy cramps I had from mile 7 on, so I just snagged a beer and headed home-- big recovery mistake.
After I headed home I worked on my last paper for the semester and lounged around. My muscles felt great! It was only my knees and a hand that hurt... til Monday. I got up for school the next day and did a little Frankenstein action; it was funny because it was deserved. After my Sunday mistakes, I iced, cremed, and medicated my legs, and I was feeling pretty good by Wednesday. This Sunday I have to hit the IM training plan for week 1-- five miles. I think I can handle it, but it's hard to imagine being IM training time already.
That was my race. Are you ready for the poop story? I gave the squeamish an escape hatch-- and color coding.
Onto the real action. Before I really get into it, let me just say that I'm not telling this story to be juvenile; I consider it a duty to inform the public. That and it's funny, at least to the people I've told the story to in real life. Not to build it up or anything.
Rewind to mile 4. We were running by the Nestle/Purina plant ((who knew they were one company? Not me) and I got a faint whiff of poop. "Ew," I thought. "What a pity that animal food production smells like feces." But I continued on. So did the smell. In fact, it seemed to get worse though we were running away from the plant; I decided it must be the part of the city we were in.
This continued until almost mile 6. The couple next to me mentioned how it smelled like "Turner's dirty diaper" (Turner? sigh), so I knew I wasn't making this up. And since the smell was getting worse, I was starting to get sick. I kept gagging and was afraid I was going to lose my experimental gel (I ate one 15 minutes before the race started-- something I've never done before. It was, by and large, a success-- no surprise since I'm so bad about eating enough calories before and during a race). Suddenly in front of me I see a woman with a spot of mud on her calf. I thought maybe she'd stepped in dog doodoo. I considered if I should go up to her and ask since I was seriously starting to get sick and there were portapotties everywhere along the course where she could clean herself off... but I didn't. I thought it was rude. A couple minutes went by and I looked back at the woman; this time there is an explosion of poo all down the back of her thigh. That was no dog doodoo. That was a woman pooping during the race.
(Interestingly, there was only poop down one leg. I've been speculating about this with many but it seems curious, no?)
Let me repeat that. There was a woman pooping herself WHILE RUNNING. On the course. The course with 13,000 people on it. My course. Now maybe I should have felt sorry for her, but I didn't then and haven't yet. We've all had running moments when an unplanned restroom trip seems inevitable. In an emergency, YOU WALK to keep from soiling yourself. Craig thinks that maybe she didn't realize it. As someone who slowly caught up to her over 2 miles, I can assure you that she had to know by the exxtreme smell she was giving off. Perhaps she thought she was being heroic? Perhaps. I think 10 minute miles with poop all over your legs is closer to heinous, even if it's a fine pace to run.
Anyway, once I realized there was a woman with explosive diarrhea running in front of me, the dry heaves got worse. I had to surge ahead of her or quit-- that's how disgusting it was. Unfortunately for me, the mile 6 water station was just beyond us, and I stopped to eat a gel. She kept running, past dozens of portapotties. I couldn't believe it. Who keeps running with poop down one entire leg? Who is so selfish to think that their half marathon time shouldn't be slowed by a trip to the restroom? I was mad. I don't know if she finished or not; I admittedly never saw her again after she passed me as I was eating a gel. But I did watch her run by 2 sets of portapotties without breaking stride.
It's funny. I don't pee on my bike or before/in road races because the thought of urine on the things I love-- namely, my bike seat and my running shoes-- is repulsive, the penultimate disrespect (after, of course, #2) to my possessions and other racers. I think the average packer is fooling herself to think such things are necessary for her race when we're not breaking any records and restroom stops are quick (and if you can minimize them by not overhydrating). But at least I can understand peeing on oneself even though I do not approve. Pooping, however, is another matter. It's icky and it's obvious. Why would one stoop to #2 during a race?
That's about all. Although I thought this went without saying before Sunday, please do yourself and those around you a favor-- take a potty break with #2 calls. It's not amazing or impressive to shun the most basic of hygiene-- it's stinky. And even worse, people on the internet will write long posts about you. And who wants that?
Showing posts with label race review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label race review. Show all posts
Friday, April 11, 2008
Sunday, April 06, 2008
A poop story to end all poop stories
Man. Ooooh man. I hope you're ready for a poop story... tomorrow. I had a grand day at the St. Louis half today, and I can feel it from my waist down. My knees are not feeling swell and I got some chafing from careless dressing, but all in all I really had a great day. I just wanted to let you know I lived and it was way more fun than I remembered. Perhaps in the future I shouldn't go nine months without a race if it can be helped; I need races.
Biker friend who doesn't call me now that he realizes I cannot, in fact, bike (Sam for short) like won or came in second or something in today's race. I can vouch for his awesomeness because I saw him finish-- when I was on my way to the 7 mile marker. I obviously planned that.
Anyway, I hope you can't sleep tonight in anticipation of a Poop Story. You'll laugh. You'll cry. You'll gag. I know I did.
Biker friend who doesn't call me now that he realizes I cannot, in fact, bike (Sam for short) like won or came in second or something in today's race. I can vouch for his awesomeness because I saw him finish-- when I was on my way to the 7 mile marker. I obviously planned that.
Anyway, I hope you can't sleep tonight in anticipation of a Poop Story. You'll laugh. You'll cry. You'll gag. I know I did.
Monday, August 06, 2007
Race Review: River Cities Tri
River Cities Tri-- Shreveport, LA
800m swim
18 mile bike
3.1 mile run
I have no clever title for you. Sorry.
Anyway, I headed to Shreveport, LA this past weekend for the River Cities Tri, the "oldest tri in the South". Some of you may think an Ironman is tough to get into, but here in the South we take our tris seriously-- this race sold out its 1300 spots in less than three hours this year. This race is so well put on it's crazy: great competition, nice course, reasonable lines, great sales at SportSpectrum at packet pickup, and loads and loads of swag (totally sweet nice bag, New Balance tech t, New Balance running shorts, tech socks, tech hat, t-shirt, sunglasses that actually look cool, poster, bottle of Amino Vital whatevers, gu, amino vital liquid drinky thingy, water bottle, and a water gun). After hearing the H-town ladies rave about it last year, I signed up this year as soon as I woke up on the day registration opened.
Saturday I met up with some of the tri hotties (and a husband) to caravan to the race. The whole trip Lisa was warning us about how long the lines were at packet pickup, saying it could take up to 2 hours to get out of there if the line was really going. We were resigned to waiting since we had nothing better to do, but it turns out this year was different-- we got in line and out within maybe 5 minutes. After checking out the store to cash in on some good deals we packed into the car again and headed to the hotel.
The only crappy thing about this race is the location. From packet pickup to the host hotel was about 30 minutes, and from the hotel to the race site it was another 30 minutes. Not very convenient. On the other hand, the host hotel was reasonably priced and pretty nice, so the drives were tolerable.
Anyway, we checked into the hotel, settled in, went to dinner (which of course took forever) and got to bed around 10, 10:30 on Saturday night. Soon enough it was 5:15 the next morning and we were packing up our things to go; we decided to just use the outdoor showers at the race site to clean up afterward instead of trekking back to the hotel, unloading the bikes, showering, and loading everything up again.
The race site was great. True to the James Bond theme for this year's race, girls with water guns peeked around trees as we entered the park; there was also a gaggle of women in eveningwear and a James Bond in a tux waving hellos to the incoming cars. There was plenty of room to park (and the line to get in was only about 15 minutes, which compared to last year was a marked improvement) with plenty of facilities, and a roomy transition area.
The race started at 8:00, with all the dude waves going first (except Clydesdales and relays). My wave--15-29 women-- was the first of the chick waves at 8:24. I started in the front row and reasonably far out from the inside line of buoys. As we started, I was braced to get beaten up in the hot, murky, black water but again I was pleasantly surprised... my dog fight/swim was nonexistent. No one hit me, no one kicked me, no one ran into me except one girl, and once we realized where the other was, we swam side-by-side to the turn buoy ~300m out. Isn't that amazing?
I was swimming steadily but not too hard. Unfortunately for my wave, the oldest group of men was also swimming steadily and not too hard-- we destroyed the wave ahead of us! Before I even made it to the first turn buoy I was dodging wrinkly slow guys. I swam a straight line throughout the course, but still I had an unbelievably crappy time, and I think the swim/obstacle course is part of the reason. 4 minutes (5? 6? whatever it was) is not enough time between old man wave and young woman wave. I climbed out just over 16 minutes for 800m (wtf?) and hit the timing mat at 16:42. Lame! I expected to come out around 15:00! On the other hand, I still finished in the top 20% of my AG on the swim, so it's possible the course was long.
Transitions were SO long in this place-- maybe 100-120 yds to transition, 80-100 yd long transition area, then another 60-75 yds to the bike mount line. I was glad I didn't leave my shoes on my bike!
The bike was a rolling hill course with only a few short steep(ish) climbs, but a lot of turns. I was hoping to hold 18 mph for this race. Why not the 19 mph goal that I had for all my other sprints? Well, 1) I wasn't making the 19 mph in previous races and haven't been on my bike very much recently, and 2) this was an 18 mile bike course instead of the normal 11-13 mile one. Nothing much to say other than the course was pretty, I refused to get in my small chainring for the hills because I'm a macho MORON, and I lost my chain once. This pissed me off to no end, because I've been losing it a lot this summer (though it stopped for awhile...). I suppose I only lost like 30 seconds, but it felt like the end of the world when I had to stop. I was close to missing my goal at 12 miles, so I picked it up the last 6 and came in 59:something, 18.3 mph pace. A small victory!
Anyway, the bike was fun. I brought along Accelerade again for my aero drink, but this time I also brought a bottle of water since it was supposed to be in the upper 90s and I figured 20 oz of liquid might not be enough. Unlike Webster Du #3 though, I did not get ill on the bike. The Accelerade (Citrus Grapefruit, the hands-down yummiest premixed flavor they have)(by the way, I think this is weird since I think real grapefruit tastes like vomit) does act funny in my body, though-- for some reason I can't burp when I drink it on the bike. Because of this I have to be careful not to drink too quickly, but so long as I feel good I don't really care about that; I could certainly stand to pay attention to my fluid consumption a little more. I also changed my pre-race breakfast from fruit + slim fast + a bottle of Accelerade to clif bar(f) + bottle of Accelerade, but that was only because I forgot to bring my own breakfast and had to bum a bar off someone. And as much as I like hippies and their organic foods, I can't eat clif bars. Will that get me kicked out of triathlon?
I've digressed. Back to the bike. As I pulled into the park for the last fraction of a mile I opted to take one foot out of my shoe to speed up my transition. I only do one foot because I can't take my left hand off the bike. I know, I'm a crappy cyclist with crappy handling skills but I just can't do it, and normally the one-foot trick works quite well. Unfortunately, I only undid the Velcro on my right shoe-- I never actually took my foot out. Once at the dismount line I almost fell over since I had no free foot, and THEN I couldn’t get my dang foot outta my dang shoe. Do I suck at life or what?
Other than that shoe incident T2 was fine. Again, it was a long trek to the run course, and I was expecting to feel bad again as I've been feeling pretty icky on my tri runs recently. The run was a 5k through the park, mostly under shade with a couple gentle rises. The course is set up so you can see the competition around you and I saw all the girls I came with and other Houstonians, always a welcome sight. My goal for this run was to break 30:00 (9:41 pace), and with that in mind I set off. Mile 1 found me at 8:53 (woo!), mile 2 at 8:50 (double woo!) and I finished up in 27:29, 8:51 pace. Not stellar but not too bad either, and way better than I was expecting!
I ended up finishing in 1:46:52 and 23 of 64 in my age group and making all my goals but the one for the swim. Since I came more for the race experience and to hang out with my tri buds one last time, it was good enough for me.
Afterward the group chatted, drank some beers (I had three, beating my goal of two for this race!) and swiped some Ozarka Sport water (that spit is gooood), and then a couple of us took a shower in the outdoor shower near the lake. When one chick and I arrived, the 2 showers had about 8 women, and most were soaping up like we were planning to do rather than just rinsing off. The experience was so weird-- everyone was laughing and sharing bathing supplies and holding the shower lever for other women. I fully expected someone to take off her top and start making out with someone it was so typical-male-daydreamy. Alas, reality was no so colorful. Once we were showered and changed we hit transition to get our, packed up the car, and headed back to the great state o' Texas.
In short-- great race, great company, great swag. You should totally do this race if you ever get the chance. The end!
P.S. You'll notice there are no pictures of these so-called "tri hotties", nor any pictures of my sweet race goodies. Don't hold your breath waiting for them, either; I have no camera since I broke mine in June, and Craig's is in New Jersey with him. I’m afraid you'll have to use your imagination in my blog-- disappointing I’m sure.
The (real) end!
800m swim
18 mile bike
3.1 mile run
I have no clever title for you. Sorry.
Anyway, I headed to Shreveport, LA this past weekend for the River Cities Tri, the "oldest tri in the South". Some of you may think an Ironman is tough to get into, but here in the South we take our tris seriously-- this race sold out its 1300 spots in less than three hours this year. This race is so well put on it's crazy: great competition, nice course, reasonable lines, great sales at SportSpectrum at packet pickup, and loads and loads of swag (totally sweet nice bag, New Balance tech t, New Balance running shorts, tech socks, tech hat, t-shirt, sunglasses that actually look cool, poster, bottle of Amino Vital whatevers, gu, amino vital liquid drinky thingy, water bottle, and a water gun). After hearing the H-town ladies rave about it last year, I signed up this year as soon as I woke up on the day registration opened.
Saturday I met up with some of the tri hotties (and a husband) to caravan to the race. The whole trip Lisa was warning us about how long the lines were at packet pickup, saying it could take up to 2 hours to get out of there if the line was really going. We were resigned to waiting since we had nothing better to do, but it turns out this year was different-- we got in line and out within maybe 5 minutes. After checking out the store to cash in on some good deals we packed into the car again and headed to the hotel.
The only crappy thing about this race is the location. From packet pickup to the host hotel was about 30 minutes, and from the hotel to the race site it was another 30 minutes. Not very convenient. On the other hand, the host hotel was reasonably priced and pretty nice, so the drives were tolerable.
Anyway, we checked into the hotel, settled in, went to dinner (which of course took forever) and got to bed around 10, 10:30 on Saturday night. Soon enough it was 5:15 the next morning and we were packing up our things to go; we decided to just use the outdoor showers at the race site to clean up afterward instead of trekking back to the hotel, unloading the bikes, showering, and loading everything up again.
The race site was great. True to the James Bond theme for this year's race, girls with water guns peeked around trees as we entered the park; there was also a gaggle of women in eveningwear and a James Bond in a tux waving hellos to the incoming cars. There was plenty of room to park (and the line to get in was only about 15 minutes, which compared to last year was a marked improvement) with plenty of facilities, and a roomy transition area.
The race started at 8:00, with all the dude waves going first (except Clydesdales and relays). My wave--15-29 women-- was the first of the chick waves at 8:24. I started in the front row and reasonably far out from the inside line of buoys. As we started, I was braced to get beaten up in the hot, murky, black water but again I was pleasantly surprised... my dog fight/swim was nonexistent. No one hit me, no one kicked me, no one ran into me except one girl, and once we realized where the other was, we swam side-by-side to the turn buoy ~300m out. Isn't that amazing?
I was swimming steadily but not too hard. Unfortunately for my wave, the oldest group of men was also swimming steadily and not too hard-- we destroyed the wave ahead of us! Before I even made it to the first turn buoy I was dodging wrinkly slow guys. I swam a straight line throughout the course, but still I had an unbelievably crappy time, and I think the swim/obstacle course is part of the reason. 4 minutes (5? 6? whatever it was) is not enough time between old man wave and young woman wave. I climbed out just over 16 minutes for 800m (wtf?) and hit the timing mat at 16:42. Lame! I expected to come out around 15:00! On the other hand, I still finished in the top 20% of my AG on the swim, so it's possible the course was long.
Transitions were SO long in this place-- maybe 100-120 yds to transition, 80-100 yd long transition area, then another 60-75 yds to the bike mount line. I was glad I didn't leave my shoes on my bike!
The bike was a rolling hill course with only a few short steep(ish) climbs, but a lot of turns. I was hoping to hold 18 mph for this race. Why not the 19 mph goal that I had for all my other sprints? Well, 1) I wasn't making the 19 mph in previous races and haven't been on my bike very much recently, and 2) this was an 18 mile bike course instead of the normal 11-13 mile one. Nothing much to say other than the course was pretty, I refused to get in my small chainring for the hills because I'm a macho MORON, and I lost my chain once. This pissed me off to no end, because I've been losing it a lot this summer (though it stopped for awhile...). I suppose I only lost like 30 seconds, but it felt like the end of the world when I had to stop. I was close to missing my goal at 12 miles, so I picked it up the last 6 and came in 59:something, 18.3 mph pace. A small victory!
Anyway, the bike was fun. I brought along Accelerade again for my aero drink, but this time I also brought a bottle of water since it was supposed to be in the upper 90s and I figured 20 oz of liquid might not be enough. Unlike Webster Du #3 though, I did not get ill on the bike. The Accelerade (Citrus Grapefruit, the hands-down yummiest premixed flavor they have)(by the way, I think this is weird since I think real grapefruit tastes like vomit) does act funny in my body, though-- for some reason I can't burp when I drink it on the bike. Because of this I have to be careful not to drink too quickly, but so long as I feel good I don't really care about that; I could certainly stand to pay attention to my fluid consumption a little more. I also changed my pre-race breakfast from fruit + slim fast + a bottle of Accelerade to clif bar(f) + bottle of Accelerade, but that was only because I forgot to bring my own breakfast and had to bum a bar off someone. And as much as I like hippies and their organic foods, I can't eat clif bars. Will that get me kicked out of triathlon?
I've digressed. Back to the bike. As I pulled into the park for the last fraction of a mile I opted to take one foot out of my shoe to speed up my transition. I only do one foot because I can't take my left hand off the bike. I know, I'm a crappy cyclist with crappy handling skills but I just can't do it, and normally the one-foot trick works quite well. Unfortunately, I only undid the Velcro on my right shoe-- I never actually took my foot out. Once at the dismount line I almost fell over since I had no free foot, and THEN I couldn’t get my dang foot outta my dang shoe. Do I suck at life or what?
Other than that shoe incident T2 was fine. Again, it was a long trek to the run course, and I was expecting to feel bad again as I've been feeling pretty icky on my tri runs recently. The run was a 5k through the park, mostly under shade with a couple gentle rises. The course is set up so you can see the competition around you and I saw all the girls I came with and other Houstonians, always a welcome sight. My goal for this run was to break 30:00 (9:41 pace), and with that in mind I set off. Mile 1 found me at 8:53 (woo!), mile 2 at 8:50 (double woo!) and I finished up in 27:29, 8:51 pace. Not stellar but not too bad either, and way better than I was expecting!
I ended up finishing in 1:46:52 and 23 of 64 in my age group and making all my goals but the one for the swim. Since I came more for the race experience and to hang out with my tri buds one last time, it was good enough for me.
Afterward the group chatted, drank some beers (I had three, beating my goal of two for this race!) and swiped some Ozarka Sport water (that spit is gooood), and then a couple of us took a shower in the outdoor shower near the lake. When one chick and I arrived, the 2 showers had about 8 women, and most were soaping up like we were planning to do rather than just rinsing off. The experience was so weird-- everyone was laughing and sharing bathing supplies and holding the shower lever for other women. I fully expected someone to take off her top and start making out with someone it was so typical-male-daydreamy. Alas, reality was no so colorful. Once we were showered and changed we hit transition to get our, packed up the car, and headed back to the great state o' Texas.
In short-- great race, great company, great swag. You should totally do this race if you ever get the chance. The end!
P.S. You'll notice there are no pictures of these so-called "tri hotties", nor any pictures of my sweet race goodies. Don't hold your breath waiting for them, either; I have no camera since I broke mine in June, and Craig's is in New Jersey with him. I’m afraid you'll have to use your imagination in my blog-- disappointing I’m sure.
The (real) end!
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Du it, man: Webster Duathlon #3 Race Review
This was my first duathlon: a 2 mile run, 12 mile flat bike, and a 2 mile run. I won the entry back in February and have been looking forward to this race ever since. I've also been mentally preparing to get my butt handed to me; duathlons aren't as popular as tris, but the folks who do them are way faster. After racing I decided that duathlon folks are simply tougher-- even the sprint du's are not for the faint of heart.
Anyway, Craig came with me to this race. He's not a fan of idiotic tri cheering and I'm not a fan of someone coming along with me who doesn't race, so it was his first non-IM race. I thought he'd like it better because du's are supposed to be different-- most folks don't bring a cheering squad and the races are pretty small. We showed up about an hour before the start, got my packet, put my bike in transition, and just hung out. I thought there seemed to be more people than I'd expected, and there were; this was the biggest du of the series with 160 folks coming out. Crap! How was I supposed to place in my age group if more people showed up?!
After a .5 mile jog warmup and some stretching I headed to the line. Dude in charge told us about the course-- out-and-back run, two loop bike, and out-and-back run-- then just said "go" and started us off. It doesn’t get more low-key than that I guess!
Run 1: My goal was to run 8:30-8:45 miles. Starting out going fast is hard! Swimming is a way easier way to start a race. I was ready to start walking within 3 minutes, but naturally didn't. A few folks passed me on the way out, but for the most part it appeared I started in the right part of the pack. I also saw a few HRTCers (naturally ahead of me), so that was nice. At the turnaround I grabbed some water and went to pass some guy about my age. He refused to let me pass him, so I was forced to run with him the entire mile back to T1. Men-- such jerks! Anyway, I soon forgot him when I got to T1-- I've never been so happy to get on the bike!
Run 1 time: 16:41 (8:21 pace)
Run 1 pic: Do I look happy?
T1: My transitions were more about fashion: T1 was headband to bike helmet, and T2 would be bike helmet to hat. It's important to look your best at every opportunity. Anyway, I grabbed another water and walked to my bike. I was spent after the run and needed a rest. Still, I owned T1 because I switched my pedals (a nice lend from a friend also racing) to cages so I could wear my running shoes the whole time; I was in and out in 0:37. Woo!
The bike: two loops of fun. My goal was again 19 mph pace. On the way out we had a tailwind, and the way back was naturally a headwind. I passed a surprising number of people, so that was cool. I also got passed by a few, maybe about 5-- some who'd passed me on the run and would again pass me on the second run, but whose transitions were slow on account of the shoe issue. Suckers! Anyway, the bike was pretty, you know, bike-like. The only problem was my tummy was bothering me a lot so I couldn't eat or drink anything after about 15 minutes. My stomach has been going haywire recently (it's where I store my stress-- lots of room around there!), so I don't want to blame it on my new Accelerade nutrition plan. Maybe I had too much Accelerade before the race? Perhaps my race breakfast is incompatible with it? Anything is possible. The thing is I've never had Accelerade except for post-workout recovery/hydration until this race; more experimentation is definitely needed. That's about it for the bike except that I kept going back and forth with some stupid 14 year old kid. He was annoying the crap out of me because the first time I passed him he was drafting off his dad. Then 3 minutes later he and his dad completely blew by me-- what the crap? I caught the kid again on the second loop, and near the end he passed me... and then kept looking behind him to see where I was, swerving into the middle of the lane. I was annoyed and didn't want to get passed on the bike by some chump kid, so I surged on the street before T2 to beat him. A note to all you 14 year olds out there: don’t f*ck with me. (See? Edited for children!)
Bike pace: 18.6 mph Better than the week before, especially since I wasn't in cycling shoes/clips. Woo!
Bike pic: Nice pedals newbie!
T2: I took off my helmet and put on a hat. Nice, huh? :) Out in 0:27.
Run 2: My goal was +20 sec of run 1 pace, so 8:50-9:05 pace. Oof! Can I walk this? Of course the second run was worse than the first. I saw Lisa, cage pedal lender, at the half mile point and she told me they had cold towels at the turnaround. Booya! My goal at this point in the race was to come in under 1:15 (I came out of T2 at 56:xx) and pass three people. By the turnaround I'd caught two, but I ran a 9:14 mile. Crap! I had to get going to make my goal! After a towel and yet another water (don't judge-- it's hot here) I busted my hiney as much as I could to get in by 1:14:something, passing a third guy in the process. My last mile was 8:57, enough to get me in at 1:14:41, 1:14:38 watch time. Celebration!
Run 2 time: 18:11 (9:06 pace)
Run 2 pic: I'm about 400m from finishing, so I eeked out a solitary smile. Courageous I know.
Afterward there were breakfast tacos, beer, soda, and bananas-- a decent spread! I could only handle water a banana, and a diet Coke. Craig and I hung around with some club members, waiting for results. Normally, there's one girl in my age group at these races. She runs sub-7 minute miles both times (or close to it) and bikes at 20+ mph. Of course I had no chance of winning my age group while she was breathing, but 2nd of 2 was good enough for me-- that was my plan. Well, we were in for a huge surprise when results were posted: there were 6 girls in my age group. Dammit!
And at the top of that list: MisheleK. I won my age group and there were actually other girls in it! Sweet! I won a pint glass and a 700 tube, which I gave to Lisa (who came in second in her AG) since I ride 650s and her gracious pedals lend shaved some serious time.
I will definitely start doing dus-- I like tough stuff, and I really want to get better at these. The atmosphere is also a little more my style, so that's cool. I realize now that +20 seconds for the second run is very unrealistic; still, I want to get my run 1 time down a little faster. Maybe a longer warmup would help? I'll try that next time. And that nutrition issue I need to get ironed out before my last tri of the year: River Cities next weekend.
One other slightly related thing I've noticed in my past two races-- there are "real" triathletes at sprints, perhaps more real than ironmen. They're the folks who race, year in and year out, train every week, each season. It's not that one IM they've done that defines them because they're more than that after a decade of races and, perhaps more importantly, gallons of post-race beers. They don't get their panties in a twist over tri technology, and they don't buy a new bike every other year. They're there to race, to live the life. I want to be like that. But it's not going long that can do it-- it's local races, olys and sprints and HIMs, ties to a real racing community instead of a faceless racing giant running faraway events. The truth is that it's excruciating to go fast for any length of time-- I think it's harder than going steady for an IM. I want to do more sprints next year, even with Louisville looming, because they test your mettle in ways a day-long race simply cannot. They make you real. Besides, I know I've got the mental hardware to go long-- but can I go hard? I'm starting to wonder. And I'm going to find out.
Anyway, Craig came with me to this race. He's not a fan of idiotic tri cheering and I'm not a fan of someone coming along with me who doesn't race, so it was his first non-IM race. I thought he'd like it better because du's are supposed to be different-- most folks don't bring a cheering squad and the races are pretty small. We showed up about an hour before the start, got my packet, put my bike in transition, and just hung out. I thought there seemed to be more people than I'd expected, and there were; this was the biggest du of the series with 160 folks coming out. Crap! How was I supposed to place in my age group if more people showed up?!
After a .5 mile jog warmup and some stretching I headed to the line. Dude in charge told us about the course-- out-and-back run, two loop bike, and out-and-back run-- then just said "go" and started us off. It doesn’t get more low-key than that I guess!
Run 1: My goal was to run 8:30-8:45 miles. Starting out going fast is hard! Swimming is a way easier way to start a race. I was ready to start walking within 3 minutes, but naturally didn't. A few folks passed me on the way out, but for the most part it appeared I started in the right part of the pack. I also saw a few HRTCers (naturally ahead of me), so that was nice. At the turnaround I grabbed some water and went to pass some guy about my age. He refused to let me pass him, so I was forced to run with him the entire mile back to T1. Men-- such jerks! Anyway, I soon forgot him when I got to T1-- I've never been so happy to get on the bike!
Run 1 time: 16:41 (8:21 pace)
Run 1 pic: Do I look happy?
T1: My transitions were more about fashion: T1 was headband to bike helmet, and T2 would be bike helmet to hat. It's important to look your best at every opportunity. Anyway, I grabbed another water and walked to my bike. I was spent after the run and needed a rest. Still, I owned T1 because I switched my pedals (a nice lend from a friend also racing) to cages so I could wear my running shoes the whole time; I was in and out in 0:37. Woo!
The bike: two loops of fun. My goal was again 19 mph pace. On the way out we had a tailwind, and the way back was naturally a headwind. I passed a surprising number of people, so that was cool. I also got passed by a few, maybe about 5-- some who'd passed me on the run and would again pass me on the second run, but whose transitions were slow on account of the shoe issue. Suckers! Anyway, the bike was pretty, you know, bike-like. The only problem was my tummy was bothering me a lot so I couldn't eat or drink anything after about 15 minutes. My stomach has been going haywire recently (it's where I store my stress-- lots of room around there!), so I don't want to blame it on my new Accelerade nutrition plan. Maybe I had too much Accelerade before the race? Perhaps my race breakfast is incompatible with it? Anything is possible. The thing is I've never had Accelerade except for post-workout recovery/hydration until this race; more experimentation is definitely needed. That's about it for the bike except that I kept going back and forth with some stupid 14 year old kid. He was annoying the crap out of me because the first time I passed him he was drafting off his dad. Then 3 minutes later he and his dad completely blew by me-- what the crap? I caught the kid again on the second loop, and near the end he passed me... and then kept looking behind him to see where I was, swerving into the middle of the lane. I was annoyed and didn't want to get passed on the bike by some chump kid, so I surged on the street before T2 to beat him. A note to all you 14 year olds out there: don’t f*ck with me. (See? Edited for children!)
Bike pace: 18.6 mph Better than the week before, especially since I wasn't in cycling shoes/clips. Woo!
Bike pic: Nice pedals newbie!
T2: I took off my helmet and put on a hat. Nice, huh? :) Out in 0:27.
Run 2: My goal was +20 sec of run 1 pace, so 8:50-9:05 pace. Oof! Can I walk this? Of course the second run was worse than the first. I saw Lisa, cage pedal lender, at the half mile point and she told me they had cold towels at the turnaround. Booya! My goal at this point in the race was to come in under 1:15 (I came out of T2 at 56:xx) and pass three people. By the turnaround I'd caught two, but I ran a 9:14 mile. Crap! I had to get going to make my goal! After a towel and yet another water (don't judge-- it's hot here) I busted my hiney as much as I could to get in by 1:14:something, passing a third guy in the process. My last mile was 8:57, enough to get me in at 1:14:41, 1:14:38 watch time. Celebration!
Run 2 time: 18:11 (9:06 pace)
Run 2 pic: I'm about 400m from finishing, so I eeked out a solitary smile. Courageous I know.
Afterward there were breakfast tacos, beer, soda, and bananas-- a decent spread! I could only handle water a banana, and a diet Coke. Craig and I hung around with some club members, waiting for results. Normally, there's one girl in my age group at these races. She runs sub-7 minute miles both times (or close to it) and bikes at 20+ mph. Of course I had no chance of winning my age group while she was breathing, but 2nd of 2 was good enough for me-- that was my plan. Well, we were in for a huge surprise when results were posted: there were 6 girls in my age group. Dammit!
And at the top of that list: MisheleK. I won my age group and there were actually other girls in it! Sweet! I won a pint glass and a 700 tube, which I gave to Lisa (who came in second in her AG) since I ride 650s and her gracious pedals lend shaved some serious time.
I will definitely start doing dus-- I like tough stuff, and I really want to get better at these. The atmosphere is also a little more my style, so that's cool. I realize now that +20 seconds for the second run is very unrealistic; still, I want to get my run 1 time down a little faster. Maybe a longer warmup would help? I'll try that next time. And that nutrition issue I need to get ironed out before my last tri of the year: River Cities next weekend.
One other slightly related thing I've noticed in my past two races-- there are "real" triathletes at sprints, perhaps more real than ironmen. They're the folks who race, year in and year out, train every week, each season. It's not that one IM they've done that defines them because they're more than that after a decade of races and, perhaps more importantly, gallons of post-race beers. They don't get their panties in a twist over tri technology, and they don't buy a new bike every other year. They're there to race, to live the life. I want to be like that. But it's not going long that can do it-- it's local races, olys and sprints and HIMs, ties to a real racing community instead of a faceless racing giant running faraway events. The truth is that it's excruciating to go fast for any length of time-- I think it's harder than going steady for an IM. I want to do more sprints next year, even with Louisville looming, because they test your mettle in ways a day-long race simply cannot. They make you real. Besides, I know I've got the mental hardware to go long-- but can I go hard? I'm starting to wonder. And I'm going to find out.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
I had three beers!: Jeff and Brede's Intergalactic Tri Race Review
This is two weeks old. My bad. Anyway, J&B's is a sprint run by my tri club: 300m pool swim, 12 mile flat (and fast?) bike, and a 3 mile run. Last year I volunteered--fun, but I wanted to get in there and give it a go this year. It's a sprint, so the race report should be slim...
The swim-- I seeded myself at around a 4:42. I was nervous because I've all but given up swimming this summer, especially because my last pool swim I caught two people, and I didn't want to be getting caught in this race since it sucketh. I needn't have worried though: apparently everyone lied on their swims because I did a very painful 4:59 (probably a 4:49 if you just include the swim and not climbing out and getting across the mat). No one caught me and I caught no one. Yesss!
And here is the best race pic ever. Oooh, and here's the second best ever. Who takes pictures of people while they're getting out of the pool??
Transition-- sucked because I thought I had to move my stuff to the other side of the rack to avoid a penalty. Everyone knows that you have to have your transition towel on the side of your bike touching the ground. But did you know that you have to have the down side of your bike on the same side as the rack number? Me neither! In fact, I don't think anyone really knew that til the head official said something before the race and after transition was closed. However, he also said it is the passing rider's responsibility to get out of the draft zone, which isn't true once you've overtaken someone; it's the slow guy's job to get behind the fast guy. I hope that official learns the freaking rules before he does another race.
The bike-- an out and back. As soon as I hopped on my bike it started raining. Awesome! It poured the entire time, and I had trouble getting any speed between getting pelted by raindrops and being wary of the puddles in the road. I got passed by my new friend Rick (who won his age group and destroyed me on the swim) and a girl in my age group. More on her later. Anyway, I averaged 18.3 mph, not great but not too bad I guess. I really wanted to get 19 mph, but maybe another time.
T2-- fine. I got socks on this time since the cuts on my feet from my last sockless sprint took about a month to heal-- ow!
The run-- really bleeping hurt. It was my slowest sprint run, which could have been because we ran on "grass" (read: swamp) for about a mile of the course. Not too awesome, especially since I was wearing my new and incredibly heavy shoes. Which were ruined by the end of the day. I ran 8:59 minute miles despite my faithful running speedwork every Tuesday. Crap!
Afterward I hung out with K and her tri man (who also won his age group) and hit the kegs as hard as I could. I got in three whole beers! Never mind it was over almost three hours and well before 11:00 am-- I'm a drinking champion! Eventually the weather also cleared up, but not til long after I finished. I felt bad for all the newbies, who started later in the swim on account of their slower seed times, because they were out in the worst of the weather. What kind of first timer experience is that? Anyway, I came in 4th of 27 in my age group; that girl in my age group that passed me on the bike (I tried in vain to reel her in on the run... no dice) was a really fast and accomplished triathlete, and I have no business racing with her. Still, she only came in 3rd-- could I be moving up the food chain?
Three other things about the post race party: K came up to congratulate me on my 3rd place finish. I thought this was suspect since two girls had passed me on the bike and I started 46th, so chances were good that someone was 25-29 ahead of me. Turns out she read the results wrong and I came in fourth, much like I did to my friend on the 4th of July. What goes around comes around!
I also met Jane at the race. She came up to introduce herself and said she read my blog. I danced around like a schoolgirl who needed to tinkle-- 'cause that's how I roll. Smooth, like butter.
Afterward I went to get my stuff from transition and head home. I noticed that everything I owned was not only already mildewing but smelled like actual crap. Turns out that of all the mud on the course, I managed to find the pile of dog poop to step in. Disgusting.
All in all a great race. And a longer report than intended... sorry!
The swim-- I seeded myself at around a 4:42. I was nervous because I've all but given up swimming this summer, especially because my last pool swim I caught two people, and I didn't want to be getting caught in this race since it sucketh. I needn't have worried though: apparently everyone lied on their swims because I did a very painful 4:59 (probably a 4:49 if you just include the swim and not climbing out and getting across the mat). No one caught me and I caught no one. Yesss!
And here is the best race pic ever. Oooh, and here's the second best ever. Who takes pictures of people while they're getting out of the pool??
Transition-- sucked because I thought I had to move my stuff to the other side of the rack to avoid a penalty. Everyone knows that you have to have your transition towel on the side of your bike touching the ground. But did you know that you have to have the down side of your bike on the same side as the rack number? Me neither! In fact, I don't think anyone really knew that til the head official said something before the race and after transition was closed. However, he also said it is the passing rider's responsibility to get out of the draft zone, which isn't true once you've overtaken someone; it's the slow guy's job to get behind the fast guy. I hope that official learns the freaking rules before he does another race.
The bike-- an out and back. As soon as I hopped on my bike it started raining. Awesome! It poured the entire time, and I had trouble getting any speed between getting pelted by raindrops and being wary of the puddles in the road. I got passed by my new friend Rick (who won his age group and destroyed me on the swim) and a girl in my age group. More on her later. Anyway, I averaged 18.3 mph, not great but not too bad I guess. I really wanted to get 19 mph, but maybe another time.
T2-- fine. I got socks on this time since the cuts on my feet from my last sockless sprint took about a month to heal-- ow!
The run-- really bleeping hurt. It was my slowest sprint run, which could have been because we ran on "grass" (read: swamp) for about a mile of the course. Not too awesome, especially since I was wearing my new and incredibly heavy shoes. Which were ruined by the end of the day. I ran 8:59 minute miles despite my faithful running speedwork every Tuesday. Crap!
Afterward I hung out with K and her tri man (who also won his age group) and hit the kegs as hard as I could. I got in three whole beers! Never mind it was over almost three hours and well before 11:00 am-- I'm a drinking champion! Eventually the weather also cleared up, but not til long after I finished. I felt bad for all the newbies, who started later in the swim on account of their slower seed times, because they were out in the worst of the weather. What kind of first timer experience is that? Anyway, I came in 4th of 27 in my age group; that girl in my age group that passed me on the bike (I tried in vain to reel her in on the run... no dice) was a really fast and accomplished triathlete, and I have no business racing with her. Still, she only came in 3rd-- could I be moving up the food chain?
Three other things about the post race party: K came up to congratulate me on my 3rd place finish. I thought this was suspect since two girls had passed me on the bike and I started 46th, so chances were good that someone was 25-29 ahead of me. Turns out she read the results wrong and I came in fourth, much like I did to my friend on the 4th of July. What goes around comes around!
I also met Jane at the race. She came up to introduce herself and said she read my blog. I danced around like a schoolgirl who needed to tinkle-- 'cause that's how I roll. Smooth, like butter.
Afterward I went to get my stuff from transition and head home. I noticed that everything I owned was not only already mildewing but smelled like actual crap. Turns out that of all the mud on the course, I managed to find the pile of dog poop to step in. Disgusting.
All in all a great race. And a longer report than intended... sorry!
Friday, July 13, 2007
I'm selling any children I have when they're 12
especially if they're girls. But, I'm willing to buy them back at 17... if there's a discount involved.
Last weekend I was the coordinator for the swim portion of a kids triathlon, and kids from 6 to 13 come out for the race. I have to admit I'm a little afraid of kids because they bite. And poop. And puke. And fall over. But I was at the race in the pool area last year, and no one seemed to make too much of a fuss-- I could handle these kids. My real race concern was starting the kids; it's hard to tell from my obnoxiously dry humor, but I have the weeniest pipsqueaky voice in town-- just think mouse with laryngitis. My voice is actually a main point of conflict with Craig because he can never hear me when I talk on the phone (his phone sucks!!) or in France (must not speak too loud or they'll know we're American and we don't know French!). We may end up divorced because he can't hear me, or he may end up smothered with a pillow because his lack of hearing me is pretty frustrating.
But anyway.
The race went well, and even my itty bitty voice could be heard by the 8 year olds. Everyone listened, (okay, most kids listened. Good enough for me!), and the volunteer mothers commented on how "nice girl" I seemed. Ha! I was just about to say that I liked kids when I came across the 12 year old girls wave.
These were not children before me. They were pre-adolescent witches. Gone were the bright-eyed questions like "Can we hit people?" from the 9 year old boys. Gone were the 7 year olds' tears because the water was too cold. And most sadly, gone were the 10 year olds' requests for someone to swim the course for them. 12 year old girls were different beasts. Let me just say it was a long six minutes before I set them off. I still shudder thinking about it.
That's all. Just wanted to share. I have a newfound respect for myself because I was on time (in Katy by 4:45 thankyouverymuch) and for parents for not eating their young at some point. If your club does one, you should definitely volunteer at a kids race. They're so small and cute-- so long as they're not crying or puking at you.
Just something to think about.
Last weekend I was the coordinator for the swim portion of a kids triathlon, and kids from 6 to 13 come out for the race. I have to admit I'm a little afraid of kids because they bite. And poop. And puke. And fall over. But I was at the race in the pool area last year, and no one seemed to make too much of a fuss-- I could handle these kids. My real race concern was starting the kids; it's hard to tell from my obnoxiously dry humor, but I have the weeniest pipsqueaky voice in town-- just think mouse with laryngitis. My voice is actually a main point of conflict with Craig because he can never hear me when I talk on the phone (his phone sucks!!) or in France (must not speak too loud or they'll know we're American and we don't know French!). We may end up divorced because he can't hear me, or he may end up smothered with a pillow because his lack of hearing me is pretty frustrating.
But anyway.
The race went well, and even my itty bitty voice could be heard by the 8 year olds. Everyone listened, (okay, most kids listened. Good enough for me!), and the volunteer mothers commented on how "nice girl" I seemed. Ha! I was just about to say that I liked kids when I came across the 12 year old girls wave.
These were not children before me. They were pre-adolescent witches. Gone were the bright-eyed questions like "Can we hit people?" from the 9 year old boys. Gone were the 7 year olds' tears because the water was too cold. And most sadly, gone were the 10 year olds' requests for someone to swim the course for them. 12 year old girls were different beasts. Let me just say it was a long six minutes before I set them off. I still shudder thinking about it.
That's all. Just wanted to share. I have a newfound respect for myself because I was on time (in Katy by 4:45 thankyouverymuch) and for parents for not eating their young at some point. If your club does one, you should definitely volunteer at a kids race. They're so small and cute-- so long as they're not crying or puking at you.
Just something to think about.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
The not best 4th of July ever
Have you ever wanted to conjure your stress from an unknown force to a tangible thing, ball it up, eat it, then take a big de-stressing dump and triumphantly flush it down the toilet? What a coincidence! Me neither! But I think that's what happened this week. I woke up Tuesday feeling kind of icky, so I decided to call in. Little did I know I would actually be feeling awful by noon and yelling "Uncle" by 2, all the while whining and moaning to Craig. Poor guy. Anyway, I thought I felt better by Tuesday night, so I went to the Freedom 5k on the morning of the 4th.
I shouldn't have left the house, but I didn't see the warning signs. I was running this 5k, eating some kolaches, then meeting the girls for a 40 miler on Lucy. It was gonna be great. Instead, I ran 2.6 miles because the course was partially flooded (they're not kidding about that Texas rain, folks), unenthusiastically ate my kolaches, and went home to sleep the rest of the day away. I missed the parties and the little of the fireworks I couldn't see from my apartment (that is, if I'd watched them. I'm not crazy about fireworks). I do feel less stressed now though, even if I'm still rumbly in the tumbly. And the 2.6 miler? Perfect 8:00 miles (8:12, 7:54, 4:42 by the ol' watcheroo-- I think I could've brought home a full 5k at 8:00s, but we'll never know). I talked with another girl after the race and we decided the mile markers weren't in the right spot since I was pretty sure I took it out sub-8 and struggled in the second mile. Oh, here's a story about that girl, let's call her Judy: Judy said she was leaving before the awards ceremony, so when I saw she was 3rd in our age group, I ran over to tell her to stick around. Turns out that was the second page of results for ladies 25-29 and I'm a huge A-hole since the sheet clearly showed she was 10th. In my defense, however, places 1-7 were on a sheet very low on an adjacent column, so anyone coulda made the mistake. In fact, I KNEW there was a mistake since I was in first (really 8th), but I couldn't find that other sneaky sheet; in the future, I'll keep my mouth shut to keep my stinky foot out of it.
Anyway, boring 4th for me. Ran (also warmed up-- a good move and a lesson learned the hard way. Several times), nibbled, slept. No post-race blowing chunks, from running or beer pong. How's that for patriotic?
I shouldn't have left the house, but I didn't see the warning signs. I was running this 5k, eating some kolaches, then meeting the girls for a 40 miler on Lucy. It was gonna be great. Instead, I ran 2.6 miles because the course was partially flooded (they're not kidding about that Texas rain, folks), unenthusiastically ate my kolaches, and went home to sleep the rest of the day away. I missed the parties and the little of the fireworks I couldn't see from my apartment (that is, if I'd watched them. I'm not crazy about fireworks). I do feel less stressed now though, even if I'm still rumbly in the tumbly. And the 2.6 miler? Perfect 8:00 miles (8:12, 7:54, 4:42 by the ol' watcheroo-- I think I could've brought home a full 5k at 8:00s, but we'll never know). I talked with another girl after the race and we decided the mile markers weren't in the right spot since I was pretty sure I took it out sub-8 and struggled in the second mile. Oh, here's a story about that girl, let's call her Judy: Judy said she was leaving before the awards ceremony, so when I saw she was 3rd in our age group, I ran over to tell her to stick around. Turns out that was the second page of results for ladies 25-29 and I'm a huge A-hole since the sheet clearly showed she was 10th. In my defense, however, places 1-7 were on a sheet very low on an adjacent column, so anyone coulda made the mistake. In fact, I KNEW there was a mistake since I was in first (really 8th), but I couldn't find that other sneaky sheet; in the future, I'll keep my mouth shut to keep my stinky foot out of it.
Anyway, boring 4th for me. Ran (also warmed up-- a good move and a lesson learned the hard way. Several times), nibbled, slept. No post-race blowing chunks, from running or beer pong. How's that for patriotic?
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Ready to run? Tejas sprint tri race review
Tejas Sprint
600y swim/10.5 mile bike/3 mile run
Sugarland, TX 6/10/07
Ah, my first real race of the season. My training has been light, but I was so stoked to get out there on Sunday morning that it really didn’t matter if I was about to get my booty kicked. Tejas was a benchmark race since it’s the only one besides Arizona that I also did last year. I wanted to spank 2006 Mishele until the run, when I’d probably let her win; I’m still afraid to run. I’m a weenie.
Anyway, I woke up at 5 on Sunday morning and felt okay. Got to the race site, fiddled around with crap in my car, and rode down to transition which was about .5 miles from the parking lot. On the way there I ran into Lisa and Robin, local tri hotties who are also pretty speedy. We hung around while we set up transition, got our chips, etc. Good times.
Finally the race began. The swim was supposed to be a 600 yard open water swim in a decidedly nasty neighborhood lake. This annoyed me because last year was on the same course and was an 800 meter swim, but oh well-- at least I could beat my swim split from the year before. I was in the 6th wave and started in the second row of bodies. You know, it amazes me how nice all the girls are... til the gun goes off. Let the water wrestling begin! Despite the rat race I got out in front pretty early and swam about as straight as humanly possible. I felt pretty good about my line and my effort and fully expected to exit the water around 9:00, so you can imagine my disappointment when I didn't hit land til almost 12:00. What the crap? I don't do 2:00/100yd anything, not even warmdowns. I didn't fret too long though because I saw a good swimmer maybe 30 seconds in front of me in transition, so it wasn't just me being pokey.
T1. Good work. In and out.
The bike. Ah, I was so looking forward to riding. The course was an ultra-crowded out-and-back 2 loop course on new roads, a last minute change back to the crappy 2006 bike course. I stuck above 20 mph except when I was digging around for food or taking u-turns, which I royally suck at. I felt good. Funny thing though: I packed two frozen water bottles in my car that morning, one of water and one of Gatorade-- one for the bike and one for afterward. I left them both in the car, leaving me with just my aerodrink until the run. Oops! It was just as well though because I hate ingesting on the bike. Anyway, just as I started losing my focus tri hottie Lisa came breezing past me-- she's a real force to be reckoned with on the bike. The second she was out of my draft zone I chased her to T2, determined to get her on the run since I have been a stronger runner than her in the past.
T2. Super fast, despite dropping my running shoe (2 seconds) and running the wrong way out transition (4 seconds). Always room for improvement I suppose. I also tried something new dismounting: I left one shoe on the bike. Perhaps the first time trying this should not have been during the race.
The run. My once strong leg is now my greatest fear, in small part because I rolled my ankle on Tuesday and strained that tendon on the outside of your lower leg. It hurts, but it wasn't bothering me when I started running. Lisa was within spitting distance of me for about 50 yds, then she took off and I, well, didn't. Last year I negative split each mile by 30 seconds (8:30, 8:00, 7:30-- not too shabby). This year I clung to 8:30-8:40 pace, and barely. Still, my run was strong and consistent, which I guess is all I can ask right now. A funny thing happened on the run. At mile 1 there is a water station and a photographer, and it's right by transition and the finish so there are tons of folks around cheering. I saw the photographer and planned to smile, but then realized I needed water to take the gel in my hand I was supposed to down in T2. So I keep glaring, grab a water, down the gel-- and trip over the guy in front of me b/c I was drinking. All of the sudden Darlene (remember her from Arizona?) is there beside me cheering. Surprised at tripping and hearing my name, I got water up my nose, which promptly got rocketed out my nostrils. So there I am, being called (out?) by name near lots of people while water and snot run down my face. It was awesome. Anyway, the rest of the run was a pretty 3 miles (2.8-2.9 miles according to the Garmin freaks) until the much anticipated finish. Once I caught my breath I immediately removed my shoes and found my feet a painful chafe/blister party. Good to know now that I can't run without socks even for 3 measley miles. Yeck. Post-race I hung out for awhile (Craig did too), then lifted and got in an open water swim with Greyhound. I was pretty pooped by the time my head hit the pillow.
Here's the comparison from this year to last:
(I recalculated the bike and swim splits to reflect the proper distances since they aren't right on the results. In case you're one of those stalker types that checks that sort of thing.)
Improvement I'd say, especially comparing my bike split, T2, and place in the grand rank and file. Now I just need to smile for the cameras, get some run speed, and club a few girls in my age group so I place one day.
Two more posts coming up this week!
600y swim/10.5 mile bike/3 mile run
Sugarland, TX 6/10/07
Ah, my first real race of the season. My training has been light, but I was so stoked to get out there on Sunday morning that it really didn’t matter if I was about to get my booty kicked. Tejas was a benchmark race since it’s the only one besides Arizona that I also did last year. I wanted to spank 2006 Mishele until the run, when I’d probably let her win; I’m still afraid to run. I’m a weenie.
Anyway, I woke up at 5 on Sunday morning and felt okay. Got to the race site, fiddled around with crap in my car, and rode down to transition which was about .5 miles from the parking lot. On the way there I ran into Lisa and Robin, local tri hotties who are also pretty speedy. We hung around while we set up transition, got our chips, etc. Good times.
Finally the race began. The swim was supposed to be a 600 yard open water swim in a decidedly nasty neighborhood lake. This annoyed me because last year was on the same course and was an 800 meter swim, but oh well-- at least I could beat my swim split from the year before. I was in the 6th wave and started in the second row of bodies. You know, it amazes me how nice all the girls are... til the gun goes off. Let the water wrestling begin! Despite the rat race I got out in front pretty early and swam about as straight as humanly possible. I felt pretty good about my line and my effort and fully expected to exit the water around 9:00, so you can imagine my disappointment when I didn't hit land til almost 12:00. What the crap? I don't do 2:00/100yd anything, not even warmdowns. I didn't fret too long though because I saw a good swimmer maybe 30 seconds in front of me in transition, so it wasn't just me being pokey.
T1. Good work. In and out.
The bike. Ah, I was so looking forward to riding. The course was an ultra-crowded out-and-back 2 loop course on new roads, a last minute change back to the crappy 2006 bike course. I stuck above 20 mph except when I was digging around for food or taking u-turns, which I royally suck at. I felt good. Funny thing though: I packed two frozen water bottles in my car that morning, one of water and one of Gatorade-- one for the bike and one for afterward. I left them both in the car, leaving me with just my aerodrink until the run. Oops! It was just as well though because I hate ingesting on the bike. Anyway, just as I started losing my focus tri hottie Lisa came breezing past me-- she's a real force to be reckoned with on the bike. The second she was out of my draft zone I chased her to T2, determined to get her on the run since I have been a stronger runner than her in the past.
T2. Super fast, despite dropping my running shoe (2 seconds) and running the wrong way out transition (4 seconds). Always room for improvement I suppose. I also tried something new dismounting: I left one shoe on the bike. Perhaps the first time trying this should not have been during the race.
The run. My once strong leg is now my greatest fear, in small part because I rolled my ankle on Tuesday and strained that tendon on the outside of your lower leg. It hurts, but it wasn't bothering me when I started running. Lisa was within spitting distance of me for about 50 yds, then she took off and I, well, didn't. Last year I negative split each mile by 30 seconds (8:30, 8:00, 7:30-- not too shabby). This year I clung to 8:30-8:40 pace, and barely. Still, my run was strong and consistent, which I guess is all I can ask right now. A funny thing happened on the run. At mile 1 there is a water station and a photographer, and it's right by transition and the finish so there are tons of folks around cheering. I saw the photographer and planned to smile, but then realized I needed water to take the gel in my hand I was supposed to down in T2. So I keep glaring, grab a water, down the gel-- and trip over the guy in front of me b/c I was drinking. All of the sudden Darlene (remember her from Arizona?) is there beside me cheering. Surprised at tripping and hearing my name, I got water up my nose, which promptly got rocketed out my nostrils. So there I am, being called (out?) by name near lots of people while water and snot run down my face. It was awesome. Anyway, the rest of the run was a pretty 3 miles (2.8-2.9 miles according to the Garmin freaks) until the much anticipated finish. Once I caught my breath I immediately removed my shoes and found my feet a painful chafe/blister party. Good to know now that I can't run without socks even for 3 measley miles. Yeck. Post-race I hung out for awhile (Craig did too), then lifted and got in an open water swim with Greyhound. I was pretty pooped by the time my head hit the pillow.
Here's the comparison from this year to last:
| Year | 2006 | 2007 |
| Overall time | 1:17:46 | 1:11:36 |
| Swim | 13:10 | 13:10 |
| Swim pace | 1:30/100y | 1:32/100y |
| T1 | 1:30 | 1:38 |
| Bike | 37:30 | 32:15 |
| Bike pace | 16.8 mph | 19.5 mph |
| T2 | 1:26 | 0:46 |
| Run | 24:12 | 25:10 |
| Run pace | 8:03 | 8:23 |
| Age group place | 10/29 | 8/35 |
| Overall place | 317/613 | 237/629 |
(I recalculated the bike and swim splits to reflect the proper distances since they aren't right on the results. In case you're one of those stalker types that checks that sort of thing.)
Improvement I'd say, especially comparing my bike split, T2, and place in the grand rank and file. Now I just need to smile for the cameras, get some run speed, and club a few girls in my age group so I place one day.
Two more posts coming up this week!
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Oh no! I forgot to mention something crappy!
So on Friday, K and I were walking back to the car with my bike after registering. There were 2 volunteers in an Explorer on the road beside us, and the girl volunteer hopped out of the passenger side of the car with great flourish to move a cone 4 inches to the left. She lazily left her door open, and the idiot boy volunteer started driving forward.
That damn door hit my bike. Luckily, it didn’t hit my fingers or anything important like a deraileur... it just hit my handlebars and ripped my tape. The girl apologized profusely, but the tape seemed to be staying in place so I was very nice about it. My only experience with ripped handlebar tape was a positive one (it’s still ripped on that side and still in place), so I moved on without dwelling on it too long.
Fast forward to T1. I’d looked for electrical tape in 2 stores on Saturday but couldn’t find any, so I left my handlebar as it was since the tension seemed to be keeping it in place. That is, until I actually got my bike onto the road. I spent the entire ride trying to keep the unravelling tape out of my way. Good thing I was in aero so much or I might’ve gone crazy!
If I could take back that moment of saying, “Oh, that’s okay” to that volunteer I would. Of course, I’d replace that comment with “You know, it’d be a great gift to society if you promised not to breed. There are enough ditzy bimbos in the world without your spawn contributing to the problem.” But alas, the time has passed.
Just wanted to share. As for the other 2500 volunteers: they were pretty great. If only they could keep the dumb ones out of motorized vehicles...
Update: My LBS fixed up my handlebar for a measly $5 labor-- they didn't even charge me for the tape! Must've been the world rewarding me for not being my rude self. Sweet! All is well with the world. :)
That damn door hit my bike. Luckily, it didn’t hit my fingers or anything important like a deraileur... it just hit my handlebars and ripped my tape. The girl apologized profusely, but the tape seemed to be staying in place so I was very nice about it. My only experience with ripped handlebar tape was a positive one (it’s still ripped on that side and still in place), so I moved on without dwelling on it too long.
Fast forward to T1. I’d looked for electrical tape in 2 stores on Saturday but couldn’t find any, so I left my handlebar as it was since the tension seemed to be keeping it in place. That is, until I actually got my bike onto the road. I spent the entire ride trying to keep the unravelling tape out of my way. Good thing I was in aero so much or I might’ve gone crazy!
If I could take back that moment of saying, “Oh, that’s okay” to that volunteer I would. Of course, I’d replace that comment with “You know, it’d be a great gift to society if you promised not to breed. There are enough ditzy bimbos in the world without your spawn contributing to the problem.” But alas, the time has passed.
Just wanted to share. As for the other 2500 volunteers: they were pretty great. If only they could keep the dumb ones out of motorized vehicles...
Update: My LBS fixed up my handlebar for a measly $5 labor-- they didn't even charge me for the tape! Must've been the world rewarding me for not being my rude self. Sweet! All is well with the world. :)
Arizona race report: Run and finish
The run
Ah, on my feet again. I was going to finish.
It's funny how you discover your real goals out on the course: I wanted a 65- min swim, a 7 hour bike, and 11 minute miles on the run. Had you asked me the night before I wouldn't have had those answers, but here I was, running 11 minute miles for the first three miles.
Then that idea died. I could have grasped at 11:00 pace a little longer, but I felt comfortable enough running 11:30 miles that I thought I could sustain it the whole marathon. I kept waiting for my feet to hurt but they didn't really. It just felt good to pass mile marker after mile marker til suddenly I was on the next loop.
Running through transition was extra special this year. It seemed like everyone knew my name and was so excited to see me-- I saw K's family, Houston Racing folks, and thought I spied some internet people as well. I recognize it's totally lame, but having strangers read my name from my bib and cheer me on so enthusiastically-- well, it's amazing. I guess I'm a sucker for attention.
That's about all I can say for the 5+ hour run. I didn't walk except the aid stations and that hill on mile 3 of the loop and I didn't make any friends-- no Haley from Atlanta, Troy from Maryland (though I did see him on the course, but my bike wasn't so slow he could completely lap me), no Diane from Chicago. Just Mishele. I stuck to the nutrition plan that worked so well for me last year, a 4 aid station cycle: Gatorade, water + gel, Gatorade, water + banana. In Wisconsin I ate grapes a lot, but they were irritating my already swollen throat this time. (As much as I love Tempe the place makes me sick. Sad.) Over time my legs slowed, and I didn't have enough to get them going. My heartrate stayed around 138-140, remarkable only because running 11-12 min miles on a treadmill and not after riding 112 miles puts my heart rate around 148. Hmm. Maybe I just need an 8 hour warmup?
Before I knew it I was crossing Mill bridge to the finish. I picked it up to look strong at the end, but when I turned the corner I saw a terrible sight: the clock. 13:42! I thought I was going to cry. To be so close to last year's time and see it slip by in 3 minutes... ugh. It made me sick. But I kept running, trying to look positive and not cry. As I got closer to the finish line I realized I couldn't really see right-- and the clock said 13:33! If you watched me finish looking like I'd won $20, it was because I realized I wasn't in fact slower than 2006. I was elated!
My run time was 16:30 slower than last year to put me at 5:09 even, but so what? I didn't reinjure my foot and PRed overall. You don't get that every day. I'm amazed how my non-tri friends are so unimpressed with my race. Dude, it's hard to do well two years in a row. So what if I only dropped 6 minutes?
Oh yes... about Darlene. She destroyed me on the run. Again, she went out waaaay too fast, but I still never caught her. I blame the whole "not running for two months" thing for not beating her. Maybe some other time.
One thing I'm a little annoyed about: they took the finishers videos off the web so they could sell the damn things for $20. That's total bull. Does NA Sports and everyone else associated with ironman have to take every single opportunity to shake down their race participants? It's not bad enough that people are willing to drop $470-$1000 for a chance to do an m-dot race? Could I please see my stupid finishers video just once for freaking free? It'd be one thing if I'd seen ANY finish, but they've all been swept up before I had the chance (or they didn't tape the finish line). I am a little sick of this. In fact, I'm so sick of it that my next ironman won't be an m-dot. They don't respect me as a consumer and I don't respect them as an entity. I came to this realization about a week after I realized that an m-dot is like that cingular blob-man thing-- just a logo. One silly "M" doesn't define me and it doesn't define what I think triathlon should stand for. So, no m-dot tat for me. I have something much better in mind... once I hit 10 IMs, that is. I'm not swearing off NA Sports because they do put on safe races and I want to see every course. I just think smaller races cut out that crap I find so reprehensible, and I need a crap break.
Anyway, I was happy about finishing before I started ranting. I got a finishers shirt (personally, I'm very opposed to this 2-shirt per race trend. One's bad enough!), medal, and was shipped off to get food. I picked up some pizza and a diet coke and looked everywhere for Craig. No sign of him. I ran around looking for him and getting progressively pissed for about 20 minutes, and when I saw him I let him have it, even though he'd been looking for me too... oops. We tried to stick around for K to finish, but my neck was really hurting and I was worried about the state of my sunburn/chafed neck/chest/crotch/feet/etc. We headed home after a quick trip to Walgreens.
Postwar conditions
Best race ever. No chest chafing. No inner thigh chafing. Light sunburn on my arms, but not too bad. My neck wasn't pretty, and neither was my back where I thought I'd gotten sufficiently rubbed down with sunscreen. Apparently I wasn't rubbed down like I thought (btw, this pic is from Tuesday-- 2 days of healing and I still look deformed):
OUCH! Small but painful. :(
I also got one teensy blister on my foot. I'll take a very painful and ugly neck in exchange for healthy feet and boobs. Both pairs deserve a break.
Monday I woke up quite sore but I could walk like a normal person. I swear my post-IM walk has gotten better after each one I've done, an appreciated perk. Wednesday I felt like I was 90% since it only hurt going up stairs. I should be ready to go by Thursday.
Monday morning Craig and I hit the awards brunch, where I ran into Darlene again. She hadn't made the podium, but was quick to point out that 5th in the W19-24 had gone a 12:47. It took all I had to keep my "Good thing she wasn't here last year then" comment to myself, but I did. :) We sat around for awhile, but then Craig and I left early because it was dull (and we had better things to do... like the Grand Canyon!) We waited in the picture line but gave up on that too after 40 minutes and no progress. Honestly, what do people do with their proofs that takes so long? I don't get it. I was done in Wisconsin in like 1 minute. If you're heading to an IM this year, do us all a favor and don't dawdle with your pics.
So that's all. Thank you to all of you who sent emails, texts, calls, blog comments, etc; the support really meant a lot. You folks are wonderful! A super special thanks to Wendy and Nytro (I think I saw you...) for heading out to the course and lending me some cheers-- I needed them!
First timer tips: It's okay to experiment with nutrition out there, especially if you're feeling poopy. Try the broth and the cola. Don't go out too hard. Take off any reflective tape from your front before the finish line so you don't eff up your finishers picture. Find a friend; they can save your race out there. As for the finish line, don't pass people in the last 50 yards or so or your pictures will be messed up... it's a little late to be "racing" at this point. Don't forget to smile triumphantly! The finish is a lifetime top badass moment, so enjoy it.
Next stop will be GC, AZ. Get ready!
Ah, on my feet again. I was going to finish.
It's funny how you discover your real goals out on the course: I wanted a 65- min swim, a 7 hour bike, and 11 minute miles on the run. Had you asked me the night before I wouldn't have had those answers, but here I was, running 11 minute miles for the first three miles.
Then that idea died. I could have grasped at 11:00 pace a little longer, but I felt comfortable enough running 11:30 miles that I thought I could sustain it the whole marathon. I kept waiting for my feet to hurt but they didn't really. It just felt good to pass mile marker after mile marker til suddenly I was on the next loop.
Running through transition was extra special this year. It seemed like everyone knew my name and was so excited to see me-- I saw K's family, Houston Racing folks, and thought I spied some internet people as well. I recognize it's totally lame, but having strangers read my name from my bib and cheer me on so enthusiastically-- well, it's amazing. I guess I'm a sucker for attention.
That's about all I can say for the 5+ hour run. I didn't walk except the aid stations and that hill on mile 3 of the loop and I didn't make any friends-- no Haley from Atlanta, Troy from Maryland (though I did see him on the course, but my bike wasn't so slow he could completely lap me), no Diane from Chicago. Just Mishele. I stuck to the nutrition plan that worked so well for me last year, a 4 aid station cycle: Gatorade, water + gel, Gatorade, water + banana. In Wisconsin I ate grapes a lot, but they were irritating my already swollen throat this time. (As much as I love Tempe the place makes me sick. Sad.) Over time my legs slowed, and I didn't have enough to get them going. My heartrate stayed around 138-140, remarkable only because running 11-12 min miles on a treadmill and not after riding 112 miles puts my heart rate around 148. Hmm. Maybe I just need an 8 hour warmup?
Before I knew it I was crossing Mill bridge to the finish. I picked it up to look strong at the end, but when I turned the corner I saw a terrible sight: the clock. 13:42! I thought I was going to cry. To be so close to last year's time and see it slip by in 3 minutes... ugh. It made me sick. But I kept running, trying to look positive and not cry. As I got closer to the finish line I realized I couldn't really see right-- and the clock said 13:33! If you watched me finish looking like I'd won $20, it was because I realized I wasn't in fact slower than 2006. I was elated!
My run time was 16:30 slower than last year to put me at 5:09 even, but so what? I didn't reinjure my foot and PRed overall. You don't get that every day. I'm amazed how my non-tri friends are so unimpressed with my race. Dude, it's hard to do well two years in a row. So what if I only dropped 6 minutes?
Oh yes... about Darlene. She destroyed me on the run. Again, she went out waaaay too fast, but I still never caught her. I blame the whole "not running for two months" thing for not beating her. Maybe some other time.
One thing I'm a little annoyed about: they took the finishers videos off the web so they could sell the damn things for $20. That's total bull. Does NA Sports and everyone else associated with ironman have to take every single opportunity to shake down their race participants? It's not bad enough that people are willing to drop $470-$1000 for a chance to do an m-dot race? Could I please see my stupid finishers video just once for freaking free? It'd be one thing if I'd seen ANY finish, but they've all been swept up before I had the chance (or they didn't tape the finish line). I am a little sick of this. In fact, I'm so sick of it that my next ironman won't be an m-dot. They don't respect me as a consumer and I don't respect them as an entity. I came to this realization about a week after I realized that an m-dot is like that cingular blob-man thing-- just a logo. One silly "M" doesn't define me and it doesn't define what I think triathlon should stand for. So, no m-dot tat for me. I have something much better in mind... once I hit 10 IMs, that is. I'm not swearing off NA Sports because they do put on safe races and I want to see every course. I just think smaller races cut out that crap I find so reprehensible, and I need a crap break.
Anyway, I was happy about finishing before I started ranting. I got a finishers shirt (personally, I'm very opposed to this 2-shirt per race trend. One's bad enough!), medal, and was shipped off to get food. I picked up some pizza and a diet coke and looked everywhere for Craig. No sign of him. I ran around looking for him and getting progressively pissed for about 20 minutes, and when I saw him I let him have it, even though he'd been looking for me too... oops. We tried to stick around for K to finish, but my neck was really hurting and I was worried about the state of my sunburn/chafed neck/chest/crotch/feet/etc. We headed home after a quick trip to Walgreens.
Postwar conditions
Best race ever. No chest chafing. No inner thigh chafing. Light sunburn on my arms, but not too bad. My neck wasn't pretty, and neither was my back where I thought I'd gotten sufficiently rubbed down with sunscreen. Apparently I wasn't rubbed down like I thought (btw, this pic is from Tuesday-- 2 days of healing and I still look deformed):
OUCH! Small but painful. :(I also got one teensy blister on my foot. I'll take a very painful and ugly neck in exchange for healthy feet and boobs. Both pairs deserve a break.
Monday I woke up quite sore but I could walk like a normal person. I swear my post-IM walk has gotten better after each one I've done, an appreciated perk. Wednesday I felt like I was 90% since it only hurt going up stairs. I should be ready to go by Thursday.
Monday morning Craig and I hit the awards brunch, where I ran into Darlene again. She hadn't made the podium, but was quick to point out that 5th in the W19-24 had gone a 12:47. It took all I had to keep my "Good thing she wasn't here last year then" comment to myself, but I did. :) We sat around for awhile, but then Craig and I left early because it was dull (and we had better things to do... like the Grand Canyon!) We waited in the picture line but gave up on that too after 40 minutes and no progress. Honestly, what do people do with their proofs that takes so long? I don't get it. I was done in Wisconsin in like 1 minute. If you're heading to an IM this year, do us all a favor and don't dawdle with your pics.
So that's all. Thank you to all of you who sent emails, texts, calls, blog comments, etc; the support really meant a lot. You folks are wonderful! A super special thanks to Wendy and Nytro (I think I saw you...) for heading out to the course and lending me some cheers-- I needed them!
First timer tips: It's okay to experiment with nutrition out there, especially if you're feeling poopy. Try the broth and the cola. Don't go out too hard. Take off any reflective tape from your front before the finish line so you don't eff up your finishers picture. Find a friend; they can save your race out there. As for the finish line, don't pass people in the last 50 yards or so or your pictures will be messed up... it's a little late to be "racing" at this point. Don't forget to smile triumphantly! The finish is a lifetime top badass moment, so enjoy it.
Next stop will be GC, AZ. Get ready!
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Arizona race report: Bike and T2
The bike
That ol' wind that's whippin' out there
It's whistlin' your tune.
That wind blew pyramids to Egypt
And footprints to the moon
And that ol' star that you've been wishin' on
It's shinin' mighty bright
And it's the fire inside your heart
That's gonna lead you to the light
Now I know that slaves built the pyramids and space travel is a product of a governmental dick measuring contest. And the lyrics? Very lame. But this was the song that eased into my head every now and again on the bike, and I allowed it to stay because it was so very appropriate (it's "How you ever gonna know" by Garth Brooks. Country and uplifting or something if that's your kind of thing.)
I felt grrrreat in the water, coming out of the water, and hopping on the bike. The wind was light and so was my heart-- but T1 had sent my heartrate above 150, which I don't like to do ever on the bike...or the swim. All the changing and running must've gotten me overexcited. Anyway, for the first out on the bike I focused on calming down so I didn't eff up the race. I couldn't get my HR below 140 (I usually bike around 120 and drift up to 140 over 4-6 hours) so I just went with it. Instead, I focused on eating. My nutrition plan: 3 bottles every 2 aid stations, an uncrustable every out, a Snickers Marathon Womens bar every back, plus some snacking on bananas and gels whenever I got the urge. Since only 2 bars and 2 sandwiches fit in my Bento box I'd have to stop at special needs to get more food.
Lap 1 on the bike was pretty smooth, though I was sad to see Darlene zip by me at mile 6. I figured she was going out too hard and quickly forgot about her. The wind hadn't picked up yet (here is the wind report-- I didn't search for it but I'll certainly refer to it!), so my first "out" was 1:09, almost perfect 16 mph pace. I really really wanted to hit 16 mph for my bike split because my rides are usually 16.3 mph pace, and 16.1 mph when breaks are included. It's not fast to a lot of you, but 16 was my only real race goal, and marked improvement from the 14.2 and 15.1 mph from my first two IMs. That said, I refused to blow my load for the bike split because walking the marathon was simply unacceptable. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
First out: 1:09, first back: 1:10 (again, wind wasn't bad and I lost my chain... bugger!) for a loop of 2:19. I knew I could never keep that pace even though it felt effortless because I always fade in an IM, so early on I let go of my sweet sixteen dreams. This was a mistake, and possibly one of only three regrets I have from the race.
When I started loop 2 I thought I was shot from a canon; I was holding 21+ mph with a heart rate in the mid 130s, so I took it easy, got out of aero to stretch, and got some calories down my gullet. Even with my relaxed effort I got to the halfway point in 58 mins! I did some math and realized I'd need about 12 mph pace to even split my first two loops-- not a good sign when you're about to head back into the wind. Instead of lamenting or getting frustrated, I just got in aero like a good girl and watched my cadence. I stopped at special needs-- my only trip off the bike except in loop 1 to put my chain back on-- because my stomach hurt, got my uncrustable from my bag and ate it while I went to the restroom (I like to be as gross as possible). Just like last year, it was an overly full bladder that was causing me tummy trouble. I finished the second loop in 2:23, perfect pacing with my 3 minute break at special needs. Woo! This was fun!
Lap 3 seemed easier than lap 2 in terms of wind, but that meant I wasn't going as fast on the way out-- or so I thought. I got to the turnaround in 57 minutes this time, but the way back was brutal. I was holding 13 mph and passing people! However, about 7 miles out my stomach hurt too badly to get into aero. It only felt like a little gas, but there was no way to deal with it without slowing down or risking an "accident". I just tolerated it and stayed as low as I could to get home, and I would have hit 2:20 if the loop had ended where the other two did but I had to go a little farther to get back to T2. I ended up with a 7:06:58 bike split, 18:08 faster than last year in some serious winds. I was pleased, but had I known I'd end up riding so consistently I'd have tried a leetle bit harder to reach my goal. Lesson learned.
I really had fun riding, which was so strange. I kept a lookout for HRTC Mitch to pass me since his goal time was sub 14 hours, but I never saw him. I also kept watch for Brent Buckner but also missed him. I did see K (or rather she saw me) and she still looked downright ecstatic to be on the course. It's neat to see people so lively at an ironman; I know that I always look like I want to kill someone, but really I save my face for useful facial expressions, like looking at people like they're dumb or pretending to hide my annoyance. Smiling? Well, I say stick to what you're good at, and my smile doesn't exactly light up a room.
Anyway, another huge difference besides enjoying myself in this bike leg than any other I've done: I got in around 3000 calories in the saddle! I got 3 uncrustables, 2 marathon bars, 2 full bananas, 5 gels, clif blocks, and 5-6 bottles of gatorade (and 3 bottles of water, averaging 2 bottles every 3 aid stations. Oops!) That's over 1000 calories more than I normally do, and I think it was the difference in this race. I felt good the entire time, and my heart rate trend is about as boring as it'll ever be-- 142 for most of the trip, though it did spike at the end of the loops where the wind was bad and drop when the wind was at my back again. Wind or no wind, my heart rate usually drifts up no matter what pace I ride-- nutrition was the only difference. Does that make biological sense? Not that I care, but it's nice to make sense sometimes.
One thing about the wind. I really hate wind. Give me hills, give me naysayers, give me bumpy roads-- anything tangible over an invisible nemesis. I worried about the wind all last year and didn't have too much to deal with; this year I worried again and it saved me because I was prepared for it. I took advantage of the tailwind to eat and relax, and really focused on staying in aero and not getting down about the conditions. This racer full of grace and composure-- she's not me, but I like having her on my team. I wonder if I can get stuck like this... :)
First timer bike tips: I'm going to assume you're not an idiot, so you're not going to go out too hard. Now, don't go out too hard. Don't forget to drink. If you pee on your bike, try to be mindful of the wind and the folks behind you. Don't pass someone, then slow down to grab a drink while you're still in each others' draft zones. Don't be in that drafting pack (Grrr why aren't more officials on the bike course to nip this in the bud? They only seem to catch loners who drift too close to another loner and I think that sucks). Stay alert. Don't be stupid-- get in aero in a headwind no matter how slow you're going. Oh, and don't pass on the right.
T2
I got off my bike, crotch and butt surprisingly intact, hobbled to my transition bag and then to the tent to get on some run shorts. I've said it before and I'll say it again, but I'm not running an ironman in spandex for all the world to see my butt jiggle. I have some pride here. Anyway, as I'm changing my shorts and shoes I notice a bubbly person near me-- Darlene. Seems like that racing off at mile 6 either found her sucking wind on the back half of the course or she got a flat. I like the first explanation. We exchanged pleasantries, and afterward I asked my assistant to look at the back of my neck; it had been hurting really badly and I was afraid it was burnt AND chafed like last year. She said it actually looked "really bad" and blistered, so she got the head of the changing tent to look at it. Who got a med staffer to look at it. Who got the head of the medical tent to look at it. This process wasted 60-90 seconds, so I was getting mildly annoyed. Finally, the head med guy looked at it and said, "aww, did someone get a wetsuit hickey?" like he was asking me if I'd made doodie in my pants. I told him that's what I'd been trying to tell them, and he let me loose on the run course. Finally! I'm home!
Now, normally I'm in tears in T2. I just hate the bike and am so emotional by the time I get off that I can't help it. This time? Nowhere near tears. It was strange, but I liked it. I hate crying and having to run right afterward.
Even with the needless delay I got outta T2 in 6:46, 2:18 faster than last year when my chafed neck also had me dicking around in pain. Now off to the races...
First timer T2 tips: Hang in there and try not to cry. That's all I got.
That ol' wind that's whippin' out there
It's whistlin' your tune.
That wind blew pyramids to Egypt
And footprints to the moon
And that ol' star that you've been wishin' on
It's shinin' mighty bright
And it's the fire inside your heart
That's gonna lead you to the light
Now I know that slaves built the pyramids and space travel is a product of a governmental dick measuring contest. And the lyrics? Very lame. But this was the song that eased into my head every now and again on the bike, and I allowed it to stay because it was so very appropriate (it's "How you ever gonna know" by Garth Brooks. Country and uplifting or something if that's your kind of thing.)
I felt grrrreat in the water, coming out of the water, and hopping on the bike. The wind was light and so was my heart-- but T1 had sent my heartrate above 150, which I don't like to do ever on the bike...or the swim. All the changing and running must've gotten me overexcited. Anyway, for the first out on the bike I focused on calming down so I didn't eff up the race. I couldn't get my HR below 140 (I usually bike around 120 and drift up to 140 over 4-6 hours) so I just went with it. Instead, I focused on eating. My nutrition plan: 3 bottles every 2 aid stations, an uncrustable every out, a Snickers Marathon Womens bar every back, plus some snacking on bananas and gels whenever I got the urge. Since only 2 bars and 2 sandwiches fit in my Bento box I'd have to stop at special needs to get more food.
Lap 1 on the bike was pretty smooth, though I was sad to see Darlene zip by me at mile 6. I figured she was going out too hard and quickly forgot about her. The wind hadn't picked up yet (here is the wind report-- I didn't search for it but I'll certainly refer to it!), so my first "out" was 1:09, almost perfect 16 mph pace. I really really wanted to hit 16 mph for my bike split because my rides are usually 16.3 mph pace, and 16.1 mph when breaks are included. It's not fast to a lot of you, but 16 was my only real race goal, and marked improvement from the 14.2 and 15.1 mph from my first two IMs. That said, I refused to blow my load for the bike split because walking the marathon was simply unacceptable. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
First out: 1:09, first back: 1:10 (again, wind wasn't bad and I lost my chain... bugger!) for a loop of 2:19. I knew I could never keep that pace even though it felt effortless because I always fade in an IM, so early on I let go of my sweet sixteen dreams. This was a mistake, and possibly one of only three regrets I have from the race.
When I started loop 2 I thought I was shot from a canon; I was holding 21+ mph with a heart rate in the mid 130s, so I took it easy, got out of aero to stretch, and got some calories down my gullet. Even with my relaxed effort I got to the halfway point in 58 mins! I did some math and realized I'd need about 12 mph pace to even split my first two loops-- not a good sign when you're about to head back into the wind. Instead of lamenting or getting frustrated, I just got in aero like a good girl and watched my cadence. I stopped at special needs-- my only trip off the bike except in loop 1 to put my chain back on-- because my stomach hurt, got my uncrustable from my bag and ate it while I went to the restroom (I like to be as gross as possible). Just like last year, it was an overly full bladder that was causing me tummy trouble. I finished the second loop in 2:23, perfect pacing with my 3 minute break at special needs. Woo! This was fun!
Lap 3 seemed easier than lap 2 in terms of wind, but that meant I wasn't going as fast on the way out-- or so I thought. I got to the turnaround in 57 minutes this time, but the way back was brutal. I was holding 13 mph and passing people! However, about 7 miles out my stomach hurt too badly to get into aero. It only felt like a little gas, but there was no way to deal with it without slowing down or risking an "accident". I just tolerated it and stayed as low as I could to get home, and I would have hit 2:20 if the loop had ended where the other two did but I had to go a little farther to get back to T2. I ended up with a 7:06:58 bike split, 18:08 faster than last year in some serious winds. I was pleased, but had I known I'd end up riding so consistently I'd have tried a leetle bit harder to reach my goal. Lesson learned.
I really had fun riding, which was so strange. I kept a lookout for HRTC Mitch to pass me since his goal time was sub 14 hours, but I never saw him. I also kept watch for Brent Buckner but also missed him. I did see K (or rather she saw me) and she still looked downright ecstatic to be on the course. It's neat to see people so lively at an ironman; I know that I always look like I want to kill someone, but really I save my face for useful facial expressions, like looking at people like they're dumb or pretending to hide my annoyance. Smiling? Well, I say stick to what you're good at, and my smile doesn't exactly light up a room.
Anyway, another huge difference besides enjoying myself in this bike leg than any other I've done: I got in around 3000 calories in the saddle! I got 3 uncrustables, 2 marathon bars, 2 full bananas, 5 gels, clif blocks, and 5-6 bottles of gatorade (and 3 bottles of water, averaging 2 bottles every 3 aid stations. Oops!) That's over 1000 calories more than I normally do, and I think it was the difference in this race. I felt good the entire time, and my heart rate trend is about as boring as it'll ever be-- 142 for most of the trip, though it did spike at the end of the loops where the wind was bad and drop when the wind was at my back again. Wind or no wind, my heart rate usually drifts up no matter what pace I ride-- nutrition was the only difference. Does that make biological sense? Not that I care, but it's nice to make sense sometimes.
One thing about the wind. I really hate wind. Give me hills, give me naysayers, give me bumpy roads-- anything tangible over an invisible nemesis. I worried about the wind all last year and didn't have too much to deal with; this year I worried again and it saved me because I was prepared for it. I took advantage of the tailwind to eat and relax, and really focused on staying in aero and not getting down about the conditions. This racer full of grace and composure-- she's not me, but I like having her on my team. I wonder if I can get stuck like this... :)
First timer bike tips: I'm going to assume you're not an idiot, so you're not going to go out too hard. Now, don't go out too hard. Don't forget to drink. If you pee on your bike, try to be mindful of the wind and the folks behind you. Don't pass someone, then slow down to grab a drink while you're still in each others' draft zones. Don't be in that drafting pack (Grrr why aren't more officials on the bike course to nip this in the bud? They only seem to catch loners who drift too close to another loner and I think that sucks). Stay alert. Don't be stupid-- get in aero in a headwind no matter how slow you're going. Oh, and don't pass on the right.
T2
I got off my bike, crotch and butt surprisingly intact, hobbled to my transition bag and then to the tent to get on some run shorts. I've said it before and I'll say it again, but I'm not running an ironman in spandex for all the world to see my butt jiggle. I have some pride here. Anyway, as I'm changing my shorts and shoes I notice a bubbly person near me-- Darlene. Seems like that racing off at mile 6 either found her sucking wind on the back half of the course or she got a flat. I like the first explanation. We exchanged pleasantries, and afterward I asked my assistant to look at the back of my neck; it had been hurting really badly and I was afraid it was burnt AND chafed like last year. She said it actually looked "really bad" and blistered, so she got the head of the changing tent to look at it. Who got a med staffer to look at it. Who got the head of the medical tent to look at it. This process wasted 60-90 seconds, so I was getting mildly annoyed. Finally, the head med guy looked at it and said, "aww, did someone get a wetsuit hickey?" like he was asking me if I'd made doodie in my pants. I told him that's what I'd been trying to tell them, and he let me loose on the run course. Finally! I'm home!
Now, normally I'm in tears in T2. I just hate the bike and am so emotional by the time I get off that I can't help it. This time? Nowhere near tears. It was strange, but I liked it. I hate crying and having to run right afterward.
Even with the needless delay I got outta T2 in 6:46, 2:18 faster than last year when my chafed neck also had me dicking around in pain. Now off to the races...
First timer T2 tips: Hang in there and try not to cry. That's all I got.
Arizona race report: Race mornin', the swim, T1
Sunday. I woke at 4:45, 15 minutes before my alarm. While I actually opened my eyes because I heard a door slam in a neighboring room, it was a rumbly in my tumbly that got me out of bed. "Oh good!" I thought. "I'm getting this out of the way early!"
Then I went again.
And then again.
By 5:15 I was nauseous and not feeling too keen on the breakfast I hadn't touched. "Maybe you're nervous" offered Craig.
Eh, maybe. But I didn't feel nervous. I felt calm and relaxed-- I just wanted to vomit. Small detail. After groaning and lying down for 10 minutes, Craig and I headed down to the race. The minute we were out of the car I realized I needed the nearest port-o-let or else. I got to one right near the parking lot/buffet line, which turned out to be lucky; the lines for the potties closer to transition were very long, and everyone knows race porta-potties reek of poo (which also happens to make me nauseous). After that 4th trip to the 'room I felt much better, and in no time Craig and I parted ways so I could enter the athletes only area.
A bustling transition on race morning.
I got body marked, got a new wristband (I'd almost twisted mine off the night before), prepped my bike, dropped off my special needs bags, and ran into K. She hooked me up with some Imodium after I told her my 4-poop story (K's not too into poop stories, but that doesn't usually stop me. No, I have no idea how we're friends in light of this grave detail). She said that she felt like she could cry at any minute she was so excited, and I was surprised that I felt the same way. I was... happy. Excited. Ew. I thought maybe I was going soft til I realized I could be PMSing. "Come on Mishele, strap on your pair and let's go."
Sunrise on the swim course.
Into the wetsuit and toward the water. I realized on the way there that I'd forgotten to wipe the excess defogging gloss out of my goggles, so I decided to lick it out. Crazy as it sounds, a substance called Catcrap will induce instant dry heaving. It tastes like, well, crap. I'm an idiot, and I'm lucky nothing came up when I was hugging the trash can and wishing for a stick of gum.
The pros started at 6:45, and my girls and I finally got into the water. Here's another first timer swim tip: Don't be a water pansy-- get in early if yours is a wade start. Why? Because if you wait til 6:45 or 6:50 to get in, everyone actually swims to the start line instead of calmly drifting. It's a real buzz-kill compared to the leisurely floating people do at 6:35.
The swim
I started at the very front about 2/3 the way from the inside. I'm fast enough that I don't get passed much, and the course is wide enough that there's not a ton of pushing. Call me crazy, but I prefer my swim to be challenging because of waves, clarity of the water, and my speed, not the people around me. That's why I love IM AZ. Anyway, in no time we were off. I was surprised about 5 minutes into the swim that I was passing so many folks since I wasn't really going too fast, but I guess
that some people start out fast, get in my way, and must be put back in their places. Within 7 minutes it was easy to avoid running into most folks so long as you were careful in the murky water; oftentimes I wouldn't know I was near someone til a foot was perilously close to my face. 20 mins in I slid more toward the inside of the course to avoid some guy who kept running into me for no apparent reason-- and suddenly was RIGHT on the inside of the course. Heavy traffic. I stayed calm, reasoning that no one gave enough of a fuck about my race to intentionally run into me-- it was just really hard to see in this water. I was very proud of myself as I usually get really frustrated at having my butt grabbed and my face elbowed... I was growing up to be a nice, conscientious ironman! :)
Suddenly, someone pulled me from behind and held my head under water for long enough that I panicked-- maybe 5-8 seconds. Then I got really freaking pissed, grabbed the hands holding me down, and went to punch the face of the ass who was trying to drown me. It was a... girl?
I didn't swing for three reasons: 1) I didn't want to get DQed, 2) I didn't want to waste the energy, and 3) I didn't want my butt kicked by some little pansy; I haven't ever been in a real fight, and this girl at least thought she was IM material. Not promising fighting odds, though I had at least 20 pounds on her.
"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled.
"I'm sorry but you just knocked my goggles off my face! We should be helping each other, not hurting!" she yelled back. (Ironic, yes? And she didn't sound sorry at all)
"I'm sorry I didn't see you-- it wasn't intentional" I replied. What a freaking witch.
"Well PAY ATTENTION" she yells back and starts swimming again.
Excuse me?? I can't even begin to describe how I regretted not giving her a bloody nose. I don't like hitting people, but I would really have enjoyed grabbing her ankle and getting her face close enough so that my fist could catch it. Here we are in an ironman swim, not some lovey dovey Irongirl event. Everyone knows the swim can get brutal; I personally am thankful every time I leave the water unbloodied and unbroken. You should expect to get roughed up a little, especially if you're swimming in the most direct line on the swim course. Moreover, I can't hurt people even when I try! I tried punching someone last year in Wisconsin and completely missed. The idea that I could muster the coordination and motivation to smoothly rip some chick's goggles off in an attempt to come in 407th instead of 408th out of the water is laughable. Besides, my hands hadn't touched anything sharp or hard like goggle lenses; I think she caught the wrong person. I was horrified that anyone would act that way in a stupid race, and the mean part of me hopes she didn't finish and her race was a painful one.
I am always anti-man in these races because male triathletes don't realize the charmed lives they lead. And there are no women (<19% of the field in AZ) in the longer races. And they won't let you pass them once they realize you're a girl. And they're smellier. But honestly? Put me in 2500 pushy, pompous dudes before leaving me in the water with one vindictive wench. They're freaking psycho.
Anyway, on the way home I again had some trouble sighting like last year, but it wasn't quite as bad. I rolled outta the water at 1:04:37 and an average heart rate of 147. I beat last year by 1:33... Not too shabby!
First timer swim tips: Get in early. Get the heck out of the way if you're not a strong swimmer. Don't go all chainsaw massacre on someone who hits you; if you stay calm you can usually tell if it's a malicious hit. Dudes, swallow your pride and don't be a pain to pass if some chick is faster than you. If you are getting harassed, try kicking extra to let the person behind you know you're there and they need to find a different route; no one actually wants to swim over
you. Don't go out too hard; you have all day to kick some booty. If it's crowded or the water's murky, use sighting to avoid people, not actually look for landmarks to swim straight-- you probably will anyway.
T1
No trouble changing, but my moleskin had bunched on the swim to chafe my neck all the way across. Ouchie. This year I got the sunscreen guys to get my back, shoulders, low back, legs, and neck so that I could avoid the burning and sun poisoning I got last year. Unfortunately for me, when I said "shoulders" I meant "shoulders to elbows" and got a little
pink on my arms. After some trouble clipping in (embarrassing in front of the crowd!) I started le bike. I got out of transition in 5:50, 38 seconds ahead of last year. Woo!
Check out that cleavage! Who says wearing 2.5 sports bras isn't sexy?
First timer tips: You should really try to minimize your clothes changing, even in an ironman. I always see women who get nekked after the swim and I wonder why someone so fast outta the water would waste T1 time putting on sticky clothes. Also, trust your assistant and let them know how they can best help you. After all, you have a freakin helper to wipe your feet and tie your shoes and shit. Very cool-- but don't forget to thank 'em.
Psst... I have a swim start video Craig took, but don't know how to post it. Any help?
Then I went again.
And then again.
By 5:15 I was nauseous and not feeling too keen on the breakfast I hadn't touched. "Maybe you're nervous" offered Craig.
Eh, maybe. But I didn't feel nervous. I felt calm and relaxed-- I just wanted to vomit. Small detail. After groaning and lying down for 10 minutes, Craig and I headed down to the race. The minute we were out of the car I realized I needed the nearest port-o-let or else. I got to one right near the parking lot/buffet line, which turned out to be lucky; the lines for the potties closer to transition were very long, and everyone knows race porta-potties reek of poo (which also happens to make me nauseous). After that 4th trip to the 'room I felt much better, and in no time Craig and I parted ways so I could enter the athletes only area.
A bustling transition on race morning.I got body marked, got a new wristband (I'd almost twisted mine off the night before), prepped my bike, dropped off my special needs bags, and ran into K. She hooked me up with some Imodium after I told her my 4-poop story (K's not too into poop stories, but that doesn't usually stop me. No, I have no idea how we're friends in light of this grave detail). She said that she felt like she could cry at any minute she was so excited, and I was surprised that I felt the same way. I was... happy. Excited. Ew. I thought maybe I was going soft til I realized I could be PMSing. "Come on Mishele, strap on your pair and let's go."
Sunrise on the swim course.Into the wetsuit and toward the water. I realized on the way there that I'd forgotten to wipe the excess defogging gloss out of my goggles, so I decided to lick it out. Crazy as it sounds, a substance called Catcrap will induce instant dry heaving. It tastes like, well, crap. I'm an idiot, and I'm lucky nothing came up when I was hugging the trash can and wishing for a stick of gum.
The pros started at 6:45, and my girls and I finally got into the water. Here's another first timer swim tip: Don't be a water pansy-- get in early if yours is a wade start. Why? Because if you wait til 6:45 or 6:50 to get in, everyone actually swims to the start line instead of calmly drifting. It's a real buzz-kill compared to the leisurely floating people do at 6:35.
The swim
I started at the very front about 2/3 the way from the inside. I'm fast enough that I don't get passed much, and the course is wide enough that there's not a ton of pushing. Call me crazy, but I prefer my swim to be challenging because of waves, clarity of the water, and my speed, not the people around me. That's why I love IM AZ. Anyway, in no time we were off. I was surprised about 5 minutes into the swim that I was passing so many folks since I wasn't really going too fast, but I guess
that some people start out fast, get in my way, and must be put back in their places. Within 7 minutes it was easy to avoid running into most folks so long as you were careful in the murky water; oftentimes I wouldn't know I was near someone til a foot was perilously close to my face. 20 mins in I slid more toward the inside of the course to avoid some guy who kept running into me for no apparent reason-- and suddenly was RIGHT on the inside of the course. Heavy traffic. I stayed calm, reasoning that no one gave enough of a fuck about my race to intentionally run into me-- it was just really hard to see in this water. I was very proud of myself as I usually get really frustrated at having my butt grabbed and my face elbowed... I was growing up to be a nice, conscientious ironman! :)
Suddenly, someone pulled me from behind and held my head under water for long enough that I panicked-- maybe 5-8 seconds. Then I got really freaking pissed, grabbed the hands holding me down, and went to punch the face of the ass who was trying to drown me. It was a... girl?
I didn't swing for three reasons: 1) I didn't want to get DQed, 2) I didn't want to waste the energy, and 3) I didn't want my butt kicked by some little pansy; I haven't ever been in a real fight, and this girl at least thought she was IM material. Not promising fighting odds, though I had at least 20 pounds on her.
"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled.
"I'm sorry but you just knocked my goggles off my face! We should be helping each other, not hurting!" she yelled back. (Ironic, yes? And she didn't sound sorry at all)
"I'm sorry I didn't see you-- it wasn't intentional" I replied. What a freaking witch.
"Well PAY ATTENTION" she yells back and starts swimming again.
Excuse me?? I can't even begin to describe how I regretted not giving her a bloody nose. I don't like hitting people, but I would really have enjoyed grabbing her ankle and getting her face close enough so that my fist could catch it. Here we are in an ironman swim, not some lovey dovey Irongirl event. Everyone knows the swim can get brutal; I personally am thankful every time I leave the water unbloodied and unbroken. You should expect to get roughed up a little, especially if you're swimming in the most direct line on the swim course. Moreover, I can't hurt people even when I try! I tried punching someone last year in Wisconsin and completely missed. The idea that I could muster the coordination and motivation to smoothly rip some chick's goggles off in an attempt to come in 407th instead of 408th out of the water is laughable. Besides, my hands hadn't touched anything sharp or hard like goggle lenses; I think she caught the wrong person. I was horrified that anyone would act that way in a stupid race, and the mean part of me hopes she didn't finish and her race was a painful one.
I am always anti-man in these races because male triathletes don't realize the charmed lives they lead. And there are no women (<19% of the field in AZ) in the longer races. And they won't let you pass them once they realize you're a girl. And they're smellier. But honestly? Put me in 2500 pushy, pompous dudes before leaving me in the water with one vindictive wench. They're freaking psycho.
Anyway, on the way home I again had some trouble sighting like last year, but it wasn't quite as bad. I rolled outta the water at 1:04:37 and an average heart rate of 147. I beat last year by 1:33... Not too shabby!
First timer swim tips: Get in early. Get the heck out of the way if you're not a strong swimmer. Don't go all chainsaw massacre on someone who hits you; if you stay calm you can usually tell if it's a malicious hit. Dudes, swallow your pride and don't be a pain to pass if some chick is faster than you. If you are getting harassed, try kicking extra to let the person behind you know you're there and they need to find a different route; no one actually wants to swim over
you. Don't go out too hard; you have all day to kick some booty. If it's crowded or the water's murky, use sighting to avoid people, not actually look for landmarks to swim straight-- you probably will anyway.
T1
No trouble changing, but my moleskin had bunched on the swim to chafe my neck all the way across. Ouchie. This year I got the sunscreen guys to get my back, shoulders, low back, legs, and neck so that I could avoid the burning and sun poisoning I got last year. Unfortunately for me, when I said "shoulders" I meant "shoulders to elbows" and got a little
pink on my arms. After some trouble clipping in (embarrassing in front of the crowd!) I started le bike. I got out of transition in 5:50, 38 seconds ahead of last year. Woo!
Check out that cleavage! Who says wearing 2.5 sports bras isn't sexy?First timer tips: You should really try to minimize your clothes changing, even in an ironman. I always see women who get nekked after the swim and I wonder why someone so fast outta the water would waste T1 time putting on sticky clothes. Also, trust your assistant and let them know how they can best help you. After all, you have a freakin helper to wipe your feet and tie your shoes and shit. Very cool-- but don't forget to thank 'em.
Psst... I have a swim start video Craig took, but don't know how to post it. Any help?
IM AZ race report: Pregame
This is going to be long and painful, so grab a brew and strap on your safety belts.
I had a good weekend. I hope you did too. Instead of starting at just the race, I'm going to start with my arrival and end with my departure. Awesome. AND, in honor of the 41% of the field in Tempe attempting their very first ironman, I'm going to throw out some first timer tips to anyone who has their sights on the iron distance. You know, for fun.
I got to Tempe on Friday around lunchtime after wisely using my flight to download all my workouts from my watch to my puter. K was waiting for me at the rental car place, where I was offered a Mustang convertible for the same price as my blah standard size. What kind of luck is that? The one time I could get a non-crappy car and I have to shove a stupid bike in the back seat. What would be better than a convertible for a road trip after my race? Turns out I was glad not to have it as we hit some snow on Monday, but more on that later.
Anyway, K and I went straight to registration. The USAT folks somehow forgot to bring an updated database of members, so they made anyone who'd forgotten their USAT card buy a one-day pass-- the boat I was in since my new USAT card hasn't come yet, 4 weeks after I renewed it. USAT is great...on top of things and organized the way a governing body should be. While in line a dude behind me was asked about IM WI since he was wearing a finishers hat. And a finishers shirt. At the same time. While registering for another IM. He confirmed he'd done it (really? Are you sure?) and started grilling the question-asker about his IM credentials. I rolled my eyes. Well, apparently IMWI guy had forgotten his USAT card as well, and he loudly asked the USAT chick "Is this going to be a problem later in the season? Because I'm ALSO doing Ironman Louisville." Actually, it wasn't a question; it was more of a blatant declaration of his superiority. I'd have kicked him in the junk had there been anything worth injuring.
Anyway, after that I got weighed and received my packet from a nice volunteer who asked me if I was a pro ("Do I look like a pro?" "You'd be surprised!"). All was well. In fact, we got an event t-shirt and the Ford IM black drawstring bag right there instead of at the finish. Instead of a huge "FORD" on the bag it actually has an Ironman logo--finally! A huge improvement. Of course, with the bag given to us at registration, we had to hold all our crap at the finish line instead of having it tossed in the bag. But no biggie.
Is there anything more exciting than an empty transition area?
First timer registration hints: Don't forget your USAT card. Women, don't wear heavy clothes if you're going to get depressed you weigh so much more than you do naked. And finally, don't be that A-hole in the registration line. Believe me, no one is actually impressed.
K and I cruised the expo (which was sadly skimpy on samples with GU and Clif not there. It was even worse than Wisconsin without my favorite two booths), I picked up my bike, and we were off. We grabbed some lunch and drove the bike course, then checked into our hotels. In no time it was off to the pasta dinner, where my new HRTC friend Mitch flagged us down to some sweet seats. Dinner was mostly uneventful except I met someone I may have felt an unnaturally strong desire to beat on Sunday. Let's call her Darlene.
Darlene works professionally instructing two of the three tri disciplines, and she's younger than me. She's bubbly and puts on makeup. Obviously not my type of galpal. Anyway, I didn'tlike how she grilled me about last year, which was probably just my projecting my bike performance insecurity onto her innocent questions. But still. I decided I wanted to beat her to the run, where I felt I could give her a good whomping.
After dinner I headed back to the hotel, talked Craig's ear off, and hitthe sack around 10 local time. I was pooped.
Saturday. Woke up at 6, ran 10 minutes. Rode 20 minutes. Swam 20 minutes, dropped off my bike and my transition bags. Picked up a tired and grumpy Craig at the airport. We whiled away the afternoon after he napped and I rested, then hit dinner with a big group of Houstonians. It took forever, and I ended up getting two whole glasses of wine with my pizza dinner (I'm just not a pasta girl. Sorry). After unbelievable drama with the bill, we went back to the room and prepared for race day, and got to bed before 9. Unlike most racers I can sleep normally the night before a race, and I take advantage.
I had a good weekend. I hope you did too. Instead of starting at just the race, I'm going to start with my arrival and end with my departure. Awesome. AND, in honor of the 41% of the field in Tempe attempting their very first ironman, I'm going to throw out some first timer tips to anyone who has their sights on the iron distance. You know, for fun.
I got to Tempe on Friday around lunchtime after wisely using my flight to download all my workouts from my watch to my puter. K was waiting for me at the rental car place, where I was offered a Mustang convertible for the same price as my blah standard size. What kind of luck is that? The one time I could get a non-crappy car and I have to shove a stupid bike in the back seat. What would be better than a convertible for a road trip after my race? Turns out I was glad not to have it as we hit some snow on Monday, but more on that later.
Anyway, K and I went straight to registration. The USAT folks somehow forgot to bring an updated database of members, so they made anyone who'd forgotten their USAT card buy a one-day pass-- the boat I was in since my new USAT card hasn't come yet, 4 weeks after I renewed it. USAT is great...on top of things and organized the way a governing body should be. While in line a dude behind me was asked about IM WI since he was wearing a finishers hat. And a finishers shirt. At the same time. While registering for another IM. He confirmed he'd done it (really? Are you sure?) and started grilling the question-asker about his IM credentials. I rolled my eyes. Well, apparently IMWI guy had forgotten his USAT card as well, and he loudly asked the USAT chick "Is this going to be a problem later in the season? Because I'm ALSO doing Ironman Louisville." Actually, it wasn't a question; it was more of a blatant declaration of his superiority. I'd have kicked him in the junk had there been anything worth injuring.
Anyway, after that I got weighed and received my packet from a nice volunteer who asked me if I was a pro ("Do I look like a pro?" "You'd be surprised!"). All was well. In fact, we got an event t-shirt and the Ford IM black drawstring bag right there instead of at the finish. Instead of a huge "FORD" on the bag it actually has an Ironman logo--finally! A huge improvement. Of course, with the bag given to us at registration, we had to hold all our crap at the finish line instead of having it tossed in the bag. But no biggie.
Is there anything more exciting than an empty transition area?First timer registration hints: Don't forget your USAT card. Women, don't wear heavy clothes if you're going to get depressed you weigh so much more than you do naked. And finally, don't be that A-hole in the registration line. Believe me, no one is actually impressed.
K and I cruised the expo (which was sadly skimpy on samples with GU and Clif not there. It was even worse than Wisconsin without my favorite two booths), I picked up my bike, and we were off. We grabbed some lunch and drove the bike course, then checked into our hotels. In no time it was off to the pasta dinner, where my new HRTC friend Mitch flagged us down to some sweet seats. Dinner was mostly uneventful except I met someone I may have felt an unnaturally strong desire to beat on Sunday. Let's call her Darlene.
Darlene works professionally instructing two of the three tri disciplines, and she's younger than me. She's bubbly and puts on makeup. Obviously not my type of galpal. Anyway, I didn'tlike how she grilled me about last year, which was probably just my projecting my bike performance insecurity onto her innocent questions. But still. I decided I wanted to beat her to the run, where I felt I could give her a good whomping.
After dinner I headed back to the hotel, talked Craig's ear off, and hitthe sack around 10 local time. I was pooped.
Saturday. Woke up at 6, ran 10 minutes. Rode 20 minutes. Swam 20 minutes, dropped off my bike and my transition bags. Picked up a tired and grumpy Craig at the airport. We whiled away the afternoon after he napped and I rested, then hit dinner with a big group of Houstonians. It took forever, and I ended up getting two whole glasses of wine with my pizza dinner (I'm just not a pasta girl. Sorry). After unbelievable drama with the bill, we went back to the room and prepared for race day, and got to bed before 9. Unlike most racers I can sleep normally the night before a race, and I take advantage.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Ironman Arizona Preview: Numero 64 lays it out
I don’t want to link to my own blog because it strikes me as silly, but it’s easier than wading through months of my talking to myself to get to last year’s race report and goals. I thought that I’d laugh at 2006 Mishele for being slow and dumb, but no way. My race report is positive (because my race was positive and not somewhere wretchedly unliveable like, oh, Wisconsin) and my goals are rational. Arizona 2006 was my second Ironman, so I was a little timid to put anything out there. Now? I feel pressure to push myself, but I’m not sure I have a leg to stand on here. Instead of more guarantees, I can make less. Sad.
Anyway, because of my running setbacks this season I’m going to be a pseudo goal weenie like I was last year. I have some cycling legs that I didn’t possess a year ago, but that run is a big, daunting question mark. My only hope is that I go Crazy again this year and work some miracles.
Without further ado, the 27 goals of mishelek. Actually, here's a little more ado: A) I don't give a flying dog turd about my transitions. As long as they're under 15 minutes I won't be mad at myself; the transition times in the goals below are based on last year (because the distance I have to go probably hasn't changed) and are round numbers to keep me from getting all glassy-eyed at breaking 15, 14, 13 hrs, etc. B) If my actual swim-bike-run breaks 15, 14, 13 hrs etc, that's close enough for this guy. I've always been a little slow getting on my cycling shoes or peeling spandex from my body in exchange for some breezy running shorts. That'll never change.
Okay, here we go:
1) Finish (same goal every race!) It ain’t easy, no matter how many times you get to that start line.
2) Get my nutrition straight on the bike. This year I’ve taken in as many as 130 calories/10 miles on the bike, around 200-220 calories/hour. That sucks but it’s the best I’ve done. My goal is to match that and exceed it if I’m feeling good; maybe I wouldn’t need Crazy to finish strong if I had some calories to burn. I also don’t drink enough, like, ever. I want to get through my aerodrink o’ Gatorade and a bottle of h-2-o every aid station, a lofty goal.
3) Beat my first IM time of 15:58:43. You know, for continuity.
4) Finish in under 15:09:xx--my worst case scenario assuming I don’t crash. Or burn. Or walk too much of the marathon.
Splits:
1:12:00 swim (1:42/100 yd)
10 min T1
8:00:00 bike (15 mph pace)
10 min T2
5:35:xx run (12:48 min/mile)
5) Finish in under 13:39:xx, last year’s performance. Here’s how I’d expect that race to go down--
Splits:
1:06:30 swim (1:35/100 yd)
6.5 min T1
7:10:00 bike (15.6 mph pace)
9 min T2
5:07:xx run (11:45 min/mile)
6) Finish in under 13:06:xx--a real goal. I can do this if my feet hold up. Of course, if I’m close I might as well push for under 13, right? Let’s just see how the bike goes before getting too ambitious.
Splits:
1:03:22 swim (1:30/100 yd)
6 min T1
7:00:00 bike (16 mph pace)
8 min T2
4:48:xx run (11:00 min/mile)
7) Enjoy meself. I wouldn’t be such a turd as to say that an ironman is fun (though you’d be amazed how wonderful it feels to get out of the water and onto that first bike loop... ooh I crave it. Can’t wait!) but to have $470 to waste on the selfish pursuit of some dumb race? That’s nice. To have family and friends there, on the course and cheering you on—very cool. Basically, I’m a lucky wench and should appreciate that. Not being sure of what the day will bring has forced me to enjoy the experience instead of focusing on a time; not my idea, but I’ll run with it. Hopefully I don’t look evil in my race pics like I normally do.
8) Snag some samples? I’m not sure about the sample situation. Last year I got tons of stuff from Arizona--mostly recovery and electrolyte drink samples from Clif and PowerBar and a race belt, stuff I actually use. Of course, Wisconsin sucked ass for samples because there were hardly any at all! Seriously, why pay so much if you’re not getting hefty sponsor freebies? Really annoys me. I don’t know what to expect for this race though... last year’s buffet or Wisconsin’s skimpiness? I’ll let you know. By the way, what idiot made PowerBar the gel sponsor? Their shit is gross. I’m a Gu girl all the way (except when I’m a Hammer girl; they really have spectacular flavors). Anyway, I’d like to give a good scowl to the a-hole who changed gel sponsors.
Right now the forecast is calling for 18-21 mph winds depending on what site you cruise; last year’s race had 12 mph winds with 15 mph gusts. Sounds like cake, right? It really wasn’t; even Miss Jones was complaining about the bike wind and the heat and she won the womens race. If the weatherman is still saying scary things come Saturday, I might take the bike out harder than normal, just to try to get further into the course before I’m punched in the face with an invisible nemesis. My legs can recover on the run.
Anyway, that’s the word, bird. I fly out Friday morning and Craig’s coming out Saturday; his mom is also flying out from NJ to visit a friend and stop by the race, so I’ll actually have real people watching me and getting bored because the race takes so long. Exciting! After the race we’re heading up to the Grand Canyon to look around and take a sunrise tour (gulp!). Hopefully it’s a nice vacation for both of us. Regardless of how the race turns out, I’m still free of long long rides for the foreseeable future--yay!
Wish me luck and I’ll see some of you cats out there! If you want to follow me on ironmanlive.com, my number is 64, the number of goddesses. Feel free to worship at your leisure. :)
Off to tackle my nerves for yet another day...
Anyway, because of my running setbacks this season I’m going to be a pseudo goal weenie like I was last year. I have some cycling legs that I didn’t possess a year ago, but that run is a big, daunting question mark. My only hope is that I go Crazy again this year and work some miracles.
Without further ado, the 27 goals of mishelek. Actually, here's a little more ado: A) I don't give a flying dog turd about my transitions. As long as they're under 15 minutes I won't be mad at myself; the transition times in the goals below are based on last year (because the distance I have to go probably hasn't changed) and are round numbers to keep me from getting all glassy-eyed at breaking 15, 14, 13 hrs, etc. B) If my actual swim-bike-run breaks 15, 14, 13 hrs etc, that's close enough for this guy. I've always been a little slow getting on my cycling shoes or peeling spandex from my body in exchange for some breezy running shorts. That'll never change.
Okay, here we go:
1) Finish (same goal every race!) It ain’t easy, no matter how many times you get to that start line.
2) Get my nutrition straight on the bike. This year I’ve taken in as many as 130 calories/10 miles on the bike, around 200-220 calories/hour. That sucks but it’s the best I’ve done. My goal is to match that and exceed it if I’m feeling good; maybe I wouldn’t need Crazy to finish strong if I had some calories to burn. I also don’t drink enough, like, ever. I want to get through my aerodrink o’ Gatorade and a bottle of h-2-o every aid station, a lofty goal.
3) Beat my first IM time of 15:58:43. You know, for continuity.
4) Finish in under 15:09:xx--my worst case scenario assuming I don’t crash. Or burn. Or walk too much of the marathon.
Splits:
1:12:00 swim (1:42/100 yd)
10 min T1
8:00:00 bike (15 mph pace)
10 min T2
5:35:xx run (12:48 min/mile)
5) Finish in under 13:39:xx, last year’s performance. Here’s how I’d expect that race to go down--
Splits:
1:06:30 swim (1:35/100 yd)
6.5 min T1
7:10:00 bike (15.6 mph pace)
9 min T2
5:07:xx run (11:45 min/mile)
6) Finish in under 13:06:xx--a real goal. I can do this if my feet hold up. Of course, if I’m close I might as well push for under 13, right? Let’s just see how the bike goes before getting too ambitious.
Splits:
1:03:22 swim (1:30/100 yd)
6 min T1
7:00:00 bike (16 mph pace)
8 min T2
4:48:xx run (11:00 min/mile)
7) Enjoy meself. I wouldn’t be such a turd as to say that an ironman is fun (though you’d be amazed how wonderful it feels to get out of the water and onto that first bike loop... ooh I crave it. Can’t wait!) but to have $470 to waste on the selfish pursuit of some dumb race? That’s nice. To have family and friends there, on the course and cheering you on—very cool. Basically, I’m a lucky wench and should appreciate that. Not being sure of what the day will bring has forced me to enjoy the experience instead of focusing on a time; not my idea, but I’ll run with it. Hopefully I don’t look evil in my race pics like I normally do.
8) Snag some samples? I’m not sure about the sample situation. Last year I got tons of stuff from Arizona--mostly recovery and electrolyte drink samples from Clif and PowerBar and a race belt, stuff I actually use. Of course, Wisconsin sucked ass for samples because there were hardly any at all! Seriously, why pay so much if you’re not getting hefty sponsor freebies? Really annoys me. I don’t know what to expect for this race though... last year’s buffet or Wisconsin’s skimpiness? I’ll let you know. By the way, what idiot made PowerBar the gel sponsor? Their shit is gross. I’m a Gu girl all the way (except when I’m a Hammer girl; they really have spectacular flavors). Anyway, I’d like to give a good scowl to the a-hole who changed gel sponsors.
Right now the forecast is calling for 18-21 mph winds depending on what site you cruise; last year’s race had 12 mph winds with 15 mph gusts. Sounds like cake, right? It really wasn’t; even Miss Jones was complaining about the bike wind and the heat and she won the womens race. If the weatherman is still saying scary things come Saturday, I might take the bike out harder than normal, just to try to get further into the course before I’m punched in the face with an invisible nemesis. My legs can recover on the run.
Anyway, that’s the word, bird. I fly out Friday morning and Craig’s coming out Saturday; his mom is also flying out from NJ to visit a friend and stop by the race, so I’ll actually have real people watching me and getting bored because the race takes so long. Exciting! After the race we’re heading up to the Grand Canyon to look around and take a sunrise tour (gulp!). Hopefully it’s a nice vacation for both of us. Regardless of how the race turns out, I’m still free of long long rides for the foreseeable future--yay!
Wish me luck and I’ll see some of you cats out there! If you want to follow me on ironmanlive.com, my number is 64, the number of goddesses. Feel free to worship at your leisure. :)
Off to tackle my nerves for yet another day...
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
1) I ran the Rodeo Run 10k. I sucked.
Last year I led my corporate team to a win. This year? We came in a disappointing 3rd, though I did get second in a much harder 25-29 corporate age group. I ran over a minute slower than last year so nope, didn't break 50. It was hot and quite frankly, a race report would be more of a potty story than a true race report if you get my drift. Very crappy. Highlights include:
-- semi-accidentally cutting in line for the porta potties (believe me, it was better for everyone)
-- finishing with my arms raised in triumph!! like the guy on our corporate team shirt
-- promptly puking my guts out right after crossing the second mat at the finish (awesome dude!).
-- hefty finishers booty (Kroger's as a sponsor = lotsa good edible stuff!)
Lowlights include:
-- living in the bathroom all day Saturday. Sure, it's a funny story to tell, but not to live through. Thanks a lot Chipotle Friday dinner! You were officially out of my system by noon Saturday. Crazy and gross!
-- finishing with my arms raised in triumph!! while everyone around me thought I was seriously triumphant about running a 10k.
-- puking my guts out after the second mat instead of the first so it wasn't caught on video. Bummer!
-- My feet hurting worse than ever and after a mere 6 miles. Sure, my form truly is attrocious based on my finishers shot (but don't even think about judging, dear reader), but still... what the heck am I wasting my time in PT for if there's no improvement after a month?
Interesting paradigm shift: A coworker of mine started running in 2005 when she trained for this very race, a 10k. She was annoying and melodramatic about it, as many are when beginning a new sport. Folks supported her, watched her race, helped her train-- because that's what you do with newbies. Now she's a marathoner. You'd think someone like this would be warm and nostalgic about this race, but no way. If she'd said "It's a f**king 10k" one more time I'd have smothered her with a well-timed fart. Who was she of all people to belittle those around us just because of the distance of the race? Do I go around saying "It's only a marathon. You should try biking 6-8 hours beforehand." No matter how far or fast you can go, a race is a race. It's an important milestone for some and a piddly training run for another. I don't approach any race with "just", at least when referring to the rest of the field. Maybe I'm sensitive because I'm not very fast, but maintaining the respect and dignity of those around you should be a priority and, quite frankly, not very hard. Considering she's no faster than I am I'd expect the same from her. Then again I'd expect the same from fast triathletes too, and you don't always get that. Apparently my expectations of others are too high.
Post race I did some mystery shopping, single side lifting, and took Greyhound up on his pool party offer. I got in a nice 3000 in a measured pool-- oh, how great are the luxuries in my life!
For some reason on Saturday my legs felt like doody, worse than they ever have before. I felt so icky that I almost didn't ride on Sunday, but it appears that some time in the saddle was all I needed to flush that crap down the toilet. Strange.
-- semi-accidentally cutting in line for the porta potties (believe me, it was better for everyone)
-- finishing with my arms raised in triumph!! like the guy on our corporate team shirt
-- promptly puking my guts out right after crossing the second mat at the finish (awesome dude!).
-- hefty finishers booty (Kroger's as a sponsor = lotsa good edible stuff!)
Lowlights include:
-- living in the bathroom all day Saturday. Sure, it's a funny story to tell, but not to live through. Thanks a lot Chipotle Friday dinner! You were officially out of my system by noon Saturday. Crazy and gross!
-- finishing with my arms raised in triumph!! while everyone around me thought I was seriously triumphant about running a 10k.
-- puking my guts out after the second mat instead of the first so it wasn't caught on video. Bummer!
-- My feet hurting worse than ever and after a mere 6 miles. Sure, my form truly is attrocious based on my finishers shot (but don't even think about judging, dear reader), but still... what the heck am I wasting my time in PT for if there's no improvement after a month?
Interesting paradigm shift: A coworker of mine started running in 2005 when she trained for this very race, a 10k. She was annoying and melodramatic about it, as many are when beginning a new sport. Folks supported her, watched her race, helped her train-- because that's what you do with newbies. Now she's a marathoner. You'd think someone like this would be warm and nostalgic about this race, but no way. If she'd said "It's a f**king 10k" one more time I'd have smothered her with a well-timed fart. Who was she of all people to belittle those around us just because of the distance of the race? Do I go around saying "It's only a marathon. You should try biking 6-8 hours beforehand." No matter how far or fast you can go, a race is a race. It's an important milestone for some and a piddly training run for another. I don't approach any race with "just", at least when referring to the rest of the field. Maybe I'm sensitive because I'm not very fast, but maintaining the respect and dignity of those around you should be a priority and, quite frankly, not very hard. Considering she's no faster than I am I'd expect the same from her. Then again I'd expect the same from fast triathletes too, and you don't always get that. Apparently my expectations of others are too high.
Post race I did some mystery shopping, single side lifting, and took Greyhound up on his pool party offer. I got in a nice 3000 in a measured pool-- oh, how great are the luxuries in my life!
For some reason on Saturday my legs felt like doody, worse than they ever have before. I felt so icky that I almost didn't ride on Sunday, but it appears that some time in the saddle was all I needed to flush that crap down the toilet. Strange.
3)Tri-County Hill Hopper ride: 76 miles of rolling hills and fun! Woo!
Sunday I arose at the buttercrack of dawn to hit the Hill Hopper with Greyhound. I was wary of riding with him because he's faster than me, but felt semi-safe since he's "base training" (what's that?) and had ridden on Saturday. Check out his coverage for the elevation profile and his take on things if you're interested here.
Now, I didn't check the weather b/c Grey said it was supposed to be "beautiful" on Sunday. And yes, it was a clear, bright day-- but it was cold. I was planning on debuting my (sleeveless) Janus Charity Challenge top from Wisconsin and try out what I think are my favorite tri shorts (they are. Far and away the best. Too bad they're my Snickers shorts and I don't know what brand they are!). This is not cold weather gear. Fortunately I'd grabbed a jacket on the way out the door and travel with arm warmers... 'cause you never know when you're going to need them. Like, oh, in Wisconsin. Anyway, we huddled in the car til it was time to go, when we were seranaded with the OKaysion's "I'm a girl watcher" turned into "I'm a hill hopper." One of us thought that was more adorable than the other one did.
By the fourth mile I was, predictably, hot. I decided to take off my jacket at the first rest stop, about 12 or so miles in. Greyhound and I had gotten separated before the turnoff, but I thought I spotted him about 25 feet behind me. As the rest stop approached, he yelled, "you turning in?" "Yeah," I said. "I need to disrobe." I pulled in and thought he was behind me. He wasn't. Turns out I imagined that the guy was Greyhound and waited in frustration for over ten minutes before I called to find him.
He wasn't at the rest stop? Oh. Oops.
The ride was pretty hilly and windy, but it was really fun. Spent from his Saturday saddle time, Greyhound opted to do the 46 miler and I did the 76 alone. About 50 miles in a rode with a roadie on a Cannondale that was faster than mine downhill. The nerve! I've only been passed by one bike downhill since I got Lucy, and it wasn't a Cannondale. We chatted for a bit and it was obvious he had Roadie Superiority Syndrome, but I felt so bad for him I didn't drop the IM bomb. It's rude. Besides, he looked like my first spinning teacher Don, and Don's great.
I finished the ride with no problem, though my bike computer said I did 80 miles and the map said it was a 76 mile route. I don't trust my bike computer, so I rode 5 miles at home before hitting my apartment pool for 30 minutes at around 1800 yds. Go me for actually being focused! I woke up Monday feeling a little stiff, but not really very sore. Go figure.
Oh right... til I took a shower. Apparently my JCC top doesn't cover my lower back. I did this to myself:
Try not to stare at my stretch marks, okay?
Yeesh! Funny story about that picture: I showered, put on lotion, and asked Craig to take a picture of my back for my blog. "Try to avoid getting crack in the picture, but if you do I can crop it" was my warning (aren't I nice to you guys?). He took a picture and handed me the camera.
I was staring at my butt.
"AHAHAHA you just got mooned with your own butt!" He was hysterical. I had to admit it though-- that's pretty dern funny.
It would have been more impressive if I'd waited another few hours for the burn to turn purple, but I didn't want to get mooned. Again. I'd had a hard enough day as it was.
Now, I didn't check the weather b/c Grey said it was supposed to be "beautiful" on Sunday. And yes, it was a clear, bright day-- but it was cold. I was planning on debuting my (sleeveless) Janus Charity Challenge top from Wisconsin and try out what I think are my favorite tri shorts (they are. Far and away the best. Too bad they're my Snickers shorts and I don't know what brand they are!). This is not cold weather gear. Fortunately I'd grabbed a jacket on the way out the door and travel with arm warmers... 'cause you never know when you're going to need them. Like, oh, in Wisconsin. Anyway, we huddled in the car til it was time to go, when we were seranaded with the OKaysion's "I'm a girl watcher" turned into "I'm a hill hopper." One of us thought that was more adorable than the other one did.
By the fourth mile I was, predictably, hot. I decided to take off my jacket at the first rest stop, about 12 or so miles in. Greyhound and I had gotten separated before the turnoff, but I thought I spotted him about 25 feet behind me. As the rest stop approached, he yelled, "you turning in?" "Yeah," I said. "I need to disrobe." I pulled in and thought he was behind me. He wasn't. Turns out I imagined that the guy was Greyhound and waited in frustration for over ten minutes before I called to find him.
He wasn't at the rest stop? Oh. Oops.
The ride was pretty hilly and windy, but it was really fun. Spent from his Saturday saddle time, Greyhound opted to do the 46 miler and I did the 76 alone. About 50 miles in a rode with a roadie on a Cannondale that was faster than mine downhill. The nerve! I've only been passed by one bike downhill since I got Lucy, and it wasn't a Cannondale. We chatted for a bit and it was obvious he had Roadie Superiority Syndrome, but I felt so bad for him I didn't drop the IM bomb. It's rude. Besides, he looked like my first spinning teacher Don, and Don's great.
I finished the ride with no problem, though my bike computer said I did 80 miles and the map said it was a 76 mile route. I don't trust my bike computer, so I rode 5 miles at home before hitting my apartment pool for 30 minutes at around 1800 yds. Go me for actually being focused! I woke up Monday feeling a little stiff, but not really very sore. Go figure.
Oh right... til I took a shower. Apparently my JCC top doesn't cover my lower back. I did this to myself:
Try not to stare at my stretch marks, okay?
Yeesh! Funny story about that picture: I showered, put on lotion, and asked Craig to take a picture of my back for my blog. "Try to avoid getting crack in the picture, but if you do I can crop it" was my warning (aren't I nice to you guys?). He took a picture and handed me the camera.
I was staring at my butt.
"AHAHAHA you just got mooned with your own butt!" He was hysterical. I had to admit it though-- that's pretty dern funny.
It would have been more impressive if I'd waited another few hours for the burn to turn purple, but I didn't want to get mooned. Again. I'd had a hard enough day as it was.
Monday, February 19, 2007
I'll have a double: Austin Half Marathon Race Review
I can't wait til the end. I PRed. Again. Coming into Sunday I had zero expectations for the race. Last weekend I'd run well, but it was on a flat beach. What's more, my foot pod said I only ran 12.9 miles. Could it be I didn't run a 2:02 after all?
Fear not! My calibration of my foot pod is off; the race was a complete half marathon, but I didn't know that when I was fretting about my Austin performance. Sure, Surfside went well, but who runs fast 2 weeks in a row? Besides, the famed downhill Austin course was replaced with a decidedly hillier version in 2007. Considering I'm running in a pool right now, I'm not so much into the hill training. I decided that I wanted to just run a strong negative-split half marathon. 2:11? Sounds like a fine goal time to me.
Until Saturday rolled around. After riding the hills with no soreness I knew I could run the steeper, shorter versions of the run course. I wanted to break 2 hours. And, well, I wanted to beat my friends; the Houston marathon was painful for me and my pride, and we needed some vindication.
We got downtown at 5 bleeping 20 in the bleeping morning. It was freezing, and we dawdled in getting away from the warm car, then in the warm at&t oasis til 6:50. Another reason I was pokey? I hadn't used the facilities yet. I've never run without, well, moving other parts of my insides first, and I didn't want any trouble during the race. E offered me Imodium, but I really believe that you should be able to regulate your body so that you don't need antipoop drugs come race day (unless you drink Mt. Dew during the race-- of course). What was wrong?
Rewind to Friday lunch, when I went to a Brazilian steakhouse. Instead of my 6-8 servings of fruits and veggies at noontime, I had meat on top of meat on top of meat. Holy shit it was good, but it cemented my digestive tract for days--And that's no easy task in my neighborhood. Still, come Sunday morning there was nothing I could do. We got on the bridge at 6:50, turned back toward the Capitol to watch some fireworks, and suddenly were off!
We had started by the 4:30 pace sign-- which was within 5 feet of the 4:15, 4:45, and 5:00 pace signs. Pace setters didn't seem to know their asses from potholes, which doesn't make sense to me. Shouldn't those people be in place before folks line up? Couldn't marks be made on the bridge to indicate where they should stand? Did anyone plan that part of the race at all? Oh sigh. Never mind-- it was so crowded that I don't think it would have helped our case to be in better positioning. Heck, we were passing walkers a mile into the race. What idiot walker starts in the front or middle of the pack? I ditched everyone right away (not that they were far behind me) and focused on passing people. Geez, there were so many! 9:31 first mile, and it wasn't pretty. 9:12. 8:52. 8:57 (I think there was a hill). 4 miles in and I felt fabulous. Mile 5 I got a Hammer gel in, but was shocked when it was cold when entering my mouth. It didn't go down smoothly and my stomach hurt through 6 and 7 (where I was holding my pace at just under 9:03 per mile). I was doing really well, and on track for a sub 2-hr race. But could I hold it?
Just as I passed mile 7 some old dude wearing all black save an American flag bandana passed me. "I've been trying to catch you for 4 miles!" He exclaimed, running off. Now, I don't care how nice of a man he was-- he was old and I wasn't letting him out of my sight. For the next 4 miles, Dennis (I later found out) was within 20 feet of me. And even though he stopped for water more than I did, I couldn't catch the geezer. Bugger!
I got my second gel in at mile 9 at a Pirates of the Caribbean aid station, which I *just* loved. This gel was warm (and freaking delicious! I love you Hammer raspberry!) and went down easy. I continued on. Just before mile 10 the halfers turned off, missing out on a hill--yea! A 5k left and I was nowhere near going over 2 hours. My new goal was to beat 2 hours on the clock. I was pretty sure I'd started around 3 minutes after the gun (which we never heard... not that we were paying attention seeing as they shot off fireworks at the very same time) and could make a 1:57. I didn't bank on two enormous hills. At mile 11-- on the first superhill-- I finally caught up with Dennis again. "I've been trying to catch you for 4 miles!" I said. He seemed surprised but pleased to see me. "Wait up, I need some water!" he said. We both stopped at the aid station, but I left a few steps in front of him. I was on a mission.
Blah, blah, run, run, last mile. I was bookin'. We turned toward the finish past the state capital building, and I was struck by the fact I was running in my state capital. What a strange thought, here in the middle of a race. Oh well. A few minutes later I was racing a huge dude who'd started his kick, but I couldn't keep up. Then I saw the clock: 2:01:36, and I was still far away! I was shocked it'd taken so long to cross the starting line and crushed that I missed my secondary goal. I crossed the mat in 2:02:05 gun time.
And 1:56:32 chip time. Awesome!
Of course, I could have gone faster. I zoned out in mile 5 and mile 8, my first mile was way too slow, and my heart rate never crept past 153 except on the hills and my very last sprint. Nevertheless I ran the race well, negative splitting the bastard by about 90 seconds. I also did well with my nutrition.
Post race I ganked some bananas and granola bars (poor spoils compared to a finisher shirt-- Austin doesn't give them for the half. Is the half significantly cheaper than other 1/2s that get shirts? No. They're just a-holes that way) and met up with my friends, all of whom had had good races. B was 58 seconds behind me but never saw me the whole way, strange because I was wearing yellow. Ah well. We got some Kerbey Lane breakfast, showered, and headed outta town, back to Sunday chores and Monday dread.
You know what? I loved Austin. I really didn't want to but the fact is the place felt like a Texas Cincinnati. I liked the size and the training venues. I liked the hills. Things that did suck were the prevalence of Christian and Spanish radio stations--4+ of each-- and a lack of racial diversity, which I guess isn't too surprising for a Texas mid-sized city. Still, seeing lots and lots of white people always makes me feel uncomfortable, like I'm doing something wrong. That aside, I want to live there. Craig doesn't. But that's a problem for another day, not now while I am still basking in the second race of my life that I'm truly proud of. And not now while my calves are SO sore from riding and running. And not while I'm hoping my PT doesn't notice how very tender my feet are.
Now is a happy time... full of ass-kicking. Hopefully my PR streak lasts through Saturday when I do my last illegal run and try to break 50 in the Rodeo Run. Don't worry, I'll let you know in a ridiculously long and excited post. It's just what I do.
Fear not! My calibration of my foot pod is off; the race was a complete half marathon, but I didn't know that when I was fretting about my Austin performance. Sure, Surfside went well, but who runs fast 2 weeks in a row? Besides, the famed downhill Austin course was replaced with a decidedly hillier version in 2007. Considering I'm running in a pool right now, I'm not so much into the hill training. I decided that I wanted to just run a strong negative-split half marathon. 2:11? Sounds like a fine goal time to me.
Until Saturday rolled around. After riding the hills with no soreness I knew I could run the steeper, shorter versions of the run course. I wanted to break 2 hours. And, well, I wanted to beat my friends; the Houston marathon was painful for me and my pride, and we needed some vindication.
We got downtown at 5 bleeping 20 in the bleeping morning. It was freezing, and we dawdled in getting away from the warm car, then in the warm at&t oasis til 6:50. Another reason I was pokey? I hadn't used the facilities yet. I've never run without, well, moving other parts of my insides first, and I didn't want any trouble during the race. E offered me Imodium, but I really believe that you should be able to regulate your body so that you don't need antipoop drugs come race day (unless you drink Mt. Dew during the race-- of course). What was wrong?
Rewind to Friday lunch, when I went to a Brazilian steakhouse. Instead of my 6-8 servings of fruits and veggies at noontime, I had meat on top of meat on top of meat. Holy shit it was good, but it cemented my digestive tract for days--And that's no easy task in my neighborhood. Still, come Sunday morning there was nothing I could do. We got on the bridge at 6:50, turned back toward the Capitol to watch some fireworks, and suddenly were off!
We had started by the 4:30 pace sign-- which was within 5 feet of the 4:15, 4:45, and 5:00 pace signs. Pace setters didn't seem to know their asses from potholes, which doesn't make sense to me. Shouldn't those people be in place before folks line up? Couldn't marks be made on the bridge to indicate where they should stand? Did anyone plan that part of the race at all? Oh sigh. Never mind-- it was so crowded that I don't think it would have helped our case to be in better positioning. Heck, we were passing walkers a mile into the race. What idiot walker starts in the front or middle of the pack? I ditched everyone right away (not that they were far behind me) and focused on passing people. Geez, there were so many! 9:31 first mile, and it wasn't pretty. 9:12. 8:52. 8:57 (I think there was a hill). 4 miles in and I felt fabulous. Mile 5 I got a Hammer gel in, but was shocked when it was cold when entering my mouth. It didn't go down smoothly and my stomach hurt through 6 and 7 (where I was holding my pace at just under 9:03 per mile). I was doing really well, and on track for a sub 2-hr race. But could I hold it?
Just as I passed mile 7 some old dude wearing all black save an American flag bandana passed me. "I've been trying to catch you for 4 miles!" He exclaimed, running off. Now, I don't care how nice of a man he was-- he was old and I wasn't letting him out of my sight. For the next 4 miles, Dennis (I later found out) was within 20 feet of me. And even though he stopped for water more than I did, I couldn't catch the geezer. Bugger!
I got my second gel in at mile 9 at a Pirates of the Caribbean aid station, which I *just* loved. This gel was warm (and freaking delicious! I love you Hammer raspberry!) and went down easy. I continued on. Just before mile 10 the halfers turned off, missing out on a hill--yea! A 5k left and I was nowhere near going over 2 hours. My new goal was to beat 2 hours on the clock. I was pretty sure I'd started around 3 minutes after the gun (which we never heard... not that we were paying attention seeing as they shot off fireworks at the very same time) and could make a 1:57. I didn't bank on two enormous hills. At mile 11-- on the first superhill-- I finally caught up with Dennis again. "I've been trying to catch you for 4 miles!" I said. He seemed surprised but pleased to see me. "Wait up, I need some water!" he said. We both stopped at the aid station, but I left a few steps in front of him. I was on a mission.
Blah, blah, run, run, last mile. I was bookin'. We turned toward the finish past the state capital building, and I was struck by the fact I was running in my state capital. What a strange thought, here in the middle of a race. Oh well. A few minutes later I was racing a huge dude who'd started his kick, but I couldn't keep up. Then I saw the clock: 2:01:36, and I was still far away! I was shocked it'd taken so long to cross the starting line and crushed that I missed my secondary goal. I crossed the mat in 2:02:05 gun time.
And 1:56:32 chip time. Awesome!
Of course, I could have gone faster. I zoned out in mile 5 and mile 8, my first mile was way too slow, and my heart rate never crept past 153 except on the hills and my very last sprint. Nevertheless I ran the race well, negative splitting the bastard by about 90 seconds. I also did well with my nutrition.
Post race I ganked some bananas and granola bars (poor spoils compared to a finisher shirt-- Austin doesn't give them for the half. Is the half significantly cheaper than other 1/2s that get shirts? No. They're just a-holes that way) and met up with my friends, all of whom had had good races. B was 58 seconds behind me but never saw me the whole way, strange because I was wearing yellow. Ah well. We got some Kerbey Lane breakfast, showered, and headed outta town, back to Sunday chores and Monday dread.
You know what? I loved Austin. I really didn't want to but the fact is the place felt like a Texas Cincinnati. I liked the size and the training venues. I liked the hills. Things that did suck were the prevalence of Christian and Spanish radio stations--4+ of each-- and a lack of racial diversity, which I guess isn't too surprising for a Texas mid-sized city. Still, seeing lots and lots of white people always makes me feel uncomfortable, like I'm doing something wrong. That aside, I want to live there. Craig doesn't. But that's a problem for another day, not now while I am still basking in the second race of my life that I'm truly proud of. And not now while my calves are SO sore from riding and running. And not while I'm hoping my PT doesn't notice how very tender my feet are.
Now is a happy time... full of ass-kicking. Hopefully my PR streak lasts through Saturday when I do my last illegal run and try to break 50 in the Rodeo Run. Don't worry, I'll let you know in a ridiculously long and excited post. It's just what I do.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Shh! Don't tell my doctor: Surfside (Half) Marathon race review
My weekend was blogworthy, though Saturday and Sunday for different reasons. On Saturday, K and I hit the road to Surfside, TX (okay, okay-- Freeport, TX) for a half marathon. Highlights of this marathon:
1) Entry fee is a flat $50 regardless of whether you do the full or half
2) Stone coaster as a participant's gift (I LOVE COASTERS!)
3) Barbecue afterward, Texas style
4) Limited to 500 people
5) Run on the beach
We got there around 7 for the 8:00 race and parked about 40m away from the packet pickup/finish line area. We got our packets (and a yellow dri-fit shirt), I snagged some energy bars, and we headed back to the car to warm our frozen body parts. I hadn't brought tights to run in, thinking "Mishele, it's going to be 50 out in Texas." This thought is not reasonable, yet it's one I continue to formulate despite having lived here for 25 months of my life. There I was, sitting frozen on a beach in 15 mph winds with no damn tights.
Oh well. I changed from my tri tank (that kept riding up on love handles on the ride down) into a red compression top with a long sleeve dri-fit over it [note: I forgot to do laundry for 2 weeks in a row and therefore was down to 1 sports bra, non-ideal running shorts, and well, compression tops]. K let me borrow some gloves someone had left in her car, and in no time we were off to the start. It was blustery, but looking to be a fun time.
Off we went. The crowd ran (jogged?) down the beach with an attitude more like that of ultramarathoners than marathoners, and K and I loved it. For the first mile I ran with her until she started walking-- K runs 9/1s, which for you non-runners is 9 minutes of running and 1 minute of walking. Sounds slow? A good 9/1er or 5/1er can kick marathon ass. But K runs a little slower than me, so I set off on my own pace. After a 10:50 first mile I settled into a 9:36 pace until 2 1/2.
That's when we turned around. Right before the turnaround I was sweating my ass off. Should I take off the long sleeve? It was just such a pain with my hat on. Besides, I was wearing a compression top underneath... was it fair to subject these unsuspecting runners to me in a compression top?
I decided it wasn't. The long sleeve stayed on. And boy was I glad I had some sense of decency because as soon as I turned around I was punched in the face by the wind. For the next 6.55 miles. At first my pace stayed at 9:41. About mile 5 it slowed to 9:47. Had I gone out too hard? Bummer! And I'd taken it so easy the first few miles; my heartrate was still in the mid-150s (aren't I obnoxious now that I have a heart monitor again?). By mile 8 I was struggling to stay around 10:00 pace, and my heart rate hit 162. Where the H was this turnaround?
Just past the mile 9 marker I saw the it. Hooray! Out of the wind! My HR dropped like a rock to 150. I was running 9:19 pace and felt amazing. Mile 10, I had my second gu and shot off like a rocket, picking off the innocent runners in front of me. 9:01 pace. 8:47 pace. 8:29 pace (the pace at which I finally got my HR over 160 again). Mile 12. 8:12 pace. 7:52 pace. Mile 13. The finish!
When I could see the clock I got a little confused. I was expecting to finish around 2:07 due to my rough time in the wind (I had my display only showing the actual time of day, my pace, and my HR because I forgot to get splits til mile 3, and then I missed a few of the mile markers). But there it was, reading 2:02. Go me! I finished in 2:02:32 on my watch, passed the clock on 2:02:36, and somehow got written down as a 2:02:47 (nope! No chips. Just two volunteers with notebooks and stop watches). Since I was out of the 5 foot chute and stretching by 2:02:47 I'm a little peeved that's what they got down, but what're you gonna do? Besides, what's 11 seconds? I'd just significantly PRed. That's what you do when your only independent half marathon you walked 1/3 of it-- but that's another story.
Almost as soon as I collected my finishers towel and the best medal I've gotten in awhile I was cold. K wasn't going to finish til at least 2:24 by my calculations, so basically I was screwed. I couldn't put my gloves back on because I'd used them as tissues, and inside the clubhouse was too hot with all the runners and barbecue hanging out. I tried to stretch out of the wind til about 2:22, when I got impatient and started walking back on the course. After a 200 of painful walking I saw K. She looked great! I ran in with her til she started her kick and I couldn't keep up. She finished in 2:29, beating her goal of 2:30. We got some eats, clothes, and headed back to the city.
This race was phenomenal. I loved running on the beach, which was like running on a trail: hard packed and very forgiving on the knees. I ran awhile with some cool guys, both of whom were doing the full marathon (they got to run another 6.5 down the beach before turning around, which doesn't sound like fun to me). I also saw Greyhound's Coach T, a high school cross country buddy of mine (she only ran a 1:43. Poor thing. She looked cool as ice too, just gliding along the course. I'd really hate her if she weren't nice). Afterward the food was great-- of course.
Crappy things: Well, the timing for one. Wah! 11 seconds! The aide stations, while supplied with well-mixed gatorade endurance and water, were only a single table long; it was very easy to miss them, and they were pretty far apart. The mile markers were also in bad places for some miles, and those would be nice to get splits from (though it's safe to say my second half completely destroyed my first one). There were also no directions to the race site, which I thought was weird and a little frustrating. Other than that I had nary a complaint, and those I do have aren't very heartfelt ones.
Chafe report: Thank god for compression! All clear.
Aftermath: K and I went to pick up our packets for Sunday's ride, then I hit the Y to do some single side lifting and 30 minutes of aquajogging. It didn't suck, though I did have to suffer through the jokes of high school lifeguards. Dear god, was I that annoying when I was a lifeguard? Yes. *shudder*
Sunday I woke up tight but not sore. While running I'd tried to engage my ass ("if you're so big why can't you do anything??") to help my feet; I was 50% successful. Try as I might, my left ass refused to cooperate, but my right one played along. I ended up with a very sore (still) and swollen left foot, but my right was just a little puffy on Sunday. Regardless, the left hurts enough to keep me from running... til next Sunday for the Austin half. Mostly doctor's orders.
Oh, one last thing. I never told you I'm unfat again; I'm back to IM WI weight. Hooray! I think I still have some muscle to put back on but at least I'm on the right track-- which isn't a running track. Sigh.
Edit: Race pictures are up here. There's one good one of me, and you're welcome to practice your voyeur skills and look me up, but I don't know how to post pictures from the internet. I suck. I'm also bib #450. The results are up here... I posted a 5th place of 26 folks in my age group. Whoopee!
1) Entry fee is a flat $50 regardless of whether you do the full or half
2) Stone coaster as a participant's gift (I LOVE COASTERS!)
3) Barbecue afterward, Texas style
4) Limited to 500 people
5) Run on the beach
We got there around 7 for the 8:00 race and parked about 40m away from the packet pickup/finish line area. We got our packets (and a yellow dri-fit shirt), I snagged some energy bars, and we headed back to the car to warm our frozen body parts. I hadn't brought tights to run in, thinking "Mishele, it's going to be 50 out in Texas." This thought is not reasonable, yet it's one I continue to formulate despite having lived here for 25 months of my life. There I was, sitting frozen on a beach in 15 mph winds with no damn tights.
Oh well. I changed from my tri tank (that kept riding up on love handles on the ride down) into a red compression top with a long sleeve dri-fit over it [note: I forgot to do laundry for 2 weeks in a row and therefore was down to 1 sports bra, non-ideal running shorts, and well, compression tops]. K let me borrow some gloves someone had left in her car, and in no time we were off to the start. It was blustery, but looking to be a fun time.
Off we went. The crowd ran (jogged?) down the beach with an attitude more like that of ultramarathoners than marathoners, and K and I loved it. For the first mile I ran with her until she started walking-- K runs 9/1s, which for you non-runners is 9 minutes of running and 1 minute of walking. Sounds slow? A good 9/1er or 5/1er can kick marathon ass. But K runs a little slower than me, so I set off on my own pace. After a 10:50 first mile I settled into a 9:36 pace until 2 1/2.
That's when we turned around. Right before the turnaround I was sweating my ass off. Should I take off the long sleeve? It was just such a pain with my hat on. Besides, I was wearing a compression top underneath... was it fair to subject these unsuspecting runners to me in a compression top?
I decided it wasn't. The long sleeve stayed on. And boy was I glad I had some sense of decency because as soon as I turned around I was punched in the face by the wind. For the next 6.55 miles. At first my pace stayed at 9:41. About mile 5 it slowed to 9:47. Had I gone out too hard? Bummer! And I'd taken it so easy the first few miles; my heartrate was still in the mid-150s (aren't I obnoxious now that I have a heart monitor again?). By mile 8 I was struggling to stay around 10:00 pace, and my heart rate hit 162. Where the H was this turnaround?
Just past the mile 9 marker I saw the it. Hooray! Out of the wind! My HR dropped like a rock to 150. I was running 9:19 pace and felt amazing. Mile 10, I had my second gu and shot off like a rocket, picking off the innocent runners in front of me. 9:01 pace. 8:47 pace. 8:29 pace (the pace at which I finally got my HR over 160 again). Mile 12. 8:12 pace. 7:52 pace. Mile 13. The finish!
When I could see the clock I got a little confused. I was expecting to finish around 2:07 due to my rough time in the wind (I had my display only showing the actual time of day, my pace, and my HR because I forgot to get splits til mile 3, and then I missed a few of the mile markers). But there it was, reading 2:02. Go me! I finished in 2:02:32 on my watch, passed the clock on 2:02:36, and somehow got written down as a 2:02:47 (nope! No chips. Just two volunteers with notebooks and stop watches). Since I was out of the 5 foot chute and stretching by 2:02:47 I'm a little peeved that's what they got down, but what're you gonna do? Besides, what's 11 seconds? I'd just significantly PRed. That's what you do when your only independent half marathon you walked 1/3 of it-- but that's another story.
Almost as soon as I collected my finishers towel and the best medal I've gotten in awhile I was cold. K wasn't going to finish til at least 2:24 by my calculations, so basically I was screwed. I couldn't put my gloves back on because I'd used them as tissues, and inside the clubhouse was too hot with all the runners and barbecue hanging out. I tried to stretch out of the wind til about 2:22, when I got impatient and started walking back on the course. After a 200 of painful walking I saw K. She looked great! I ran in with her til she started her kick and I couldn't keep up. She finished in 2:29, beating her goal of 2:30. We got some eats, clothes, and headed back to the city.
This race was phenomenal. I loved running on the beach, which was like running on a trail: hard packed and very forgiving on the knees. I ran awhile with some cool guys, both of whom were doing the full marathon (they got to run another 6.5 down the beach before turning around, which doesn't sound like fun to me). I also saw Greyhound's Coach T, a high school cross country buddy of mine (she only ran a 1:43. Poor thing. She looked cool as ice too, just gliding along the course. I'd really hate her if she weren't nice). Afterward the food was great-- of course.
Crappy things: Well, the timing for one. Wah! 11 seconds! The aide stations, while supplied with well-mixed gatorade endurance and water, were only a single table long; it was very easy to miss them, and they were pretty far apart. The mile markers were also in bad places for some miles, and those would be nice to get splits from (though it's safe to say my second half completely destroyed my first one). There were also no directions to the race site, which I thought was weird and a little frustrating. Other than that I had nary a complaint, and those I do have aren't very heartfelt ones.
Chafe report: Thank god for compression! All clear.
Aftermath: K and I went to pick up our packets for Sunday's ride, then I hit the Y to do some single side lifting and 30 minutes of aquajogging. It didn't suck, though I did have to suffer through the jokes of high school lifeguards. Dear god, was I that annoying when I was a lifeguard? Yes. *shudder*
Sunday I woke up tight but not sore. While running I'd tried to engage my ass ("if you're so big why can't you do anything??") to help my feet; I was 50% successful. Try as I might, my left ass refused to cooperate, but my right one played along. I ended up with a very sore (still) and swollen left foot, but my right was just a little puffy on Sunday. Regardless, the left hurts enough to keep me from running... til next Sunday for the Austin half. Mostly doctor's orders.
Oh, one last thing. I never told you I'm unfat again; I'm back to IM WI weight. Hooray! I think I still have some muscle to put back on but at least I'm on the right track-- which isn't a running track. Sigh.
Edit: Race pictures are up here. There's one good one of me, and you're welcome to practice your voyeur skills and look me up, but I don't know how to post pictures from the internet. I suck. I'm also bib #450. The results are up here... I posted a 5th place of 26 folks in my age group. Whoopee!
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