Accenture Chicago Triathlon

So much has happened in the last week. But who has time to write (or shall I say type) about it all???!?

I'll tell you about what it's like to be in the ELITE Age Group wave at Accenture. Now, it's not all that big of a deal. If you can swim under 30 minutes and rank in the top 20% of your age group in the USAT rankings, they let you move into this wave. I've toyed with the idea of signing up for this wave for a couple of years but have been too scared and intimidated to actually sign up for it. When I signed up for this event in January, I must've been feeling pretty sure of myself!

Ultimately, I knew I'd get crushed in this wave. However, it would allow me to go off with the first wave of Olympic distance athletes...which was my motivation for moving into this wave. See, if you've never done Chicago, well, transition closes at 5:45am but you could be waiting around for your wave to start at 10:45am!! And if it's hot and sunny, you just bake out there for hours waiting for your time to go. The other advantage is that since it's the first group of Olympic distance triathletes on the course, and they wait about 15 minutes after the last wave of sprint people, you have a pretty clear swim and a clear bike course (at least for the first loop).

I got down to transition at about 4:40am on Sunday. The first 10-12 bike spots on my rack were already taken. Shoot, I forgot there would be men in this wave, too. This just adds to my nervousness. I did the safe thing and left my running shoes at home in the morning. As much as I wanted to do the whole race, a good race at Accenture (not that I'd have a good race with the shin pain) is not worth throwing away my chance at IMFL this year. Now I'm sure most of you are like, "Yeah, ok, right. Whatever." But it took a lot of strength to NOT run. The OCD-over-the-top-psycho athletes know what I'm talking about.

I quickly rack my bike, walk the swim in and bike out a couple times and I'm out of transition. I did not want to see any more elite-type athletes that would be on my rack and in my wave. I'm already intimidated, I need to just focus.

Since I didn't bring running shoes, I took my shoes off and left them in transition (for after the race) and walked barefoot over to find the Saint. There were some muddy spots in transition and mud squished between my toes as I walked. Ick. Then there was the long walk on the asphalt trail. My feet weren't too happy.

When you know you're not doing the whole race, your attitude changes. At least mine does. The pressure doesn't seem as great. In fact, as I sat along the edge of the water watching the sprint triathletes swim along, family and friends cheering for them, I wished I could be like some of them. The ones who stopped at talked to their fans. They didn't care about a time. They just wanted to finish. They were some of the slowest swimmers out there, yet they had people cheering for them, as if they were going to win. It is just such a different perspective and sometimes I wish I could kick back and do a race "just to finish." Well, I guess I've done that in running races, but not really triathlons.

Anyway the time is near, I smear Body Glide all over my legs and pull on my wetsuit. The Saint walks over to swim start with me and wishes me luck. The Challenged Athletes were also in this wave and they pushed all of us back to let the Challenged Athletes through. I thought it was strange because I know they probably weren't going to be first out of the water, but I guess someone needed to collect their prosthetic legs and they had to walk all the way to the front before taking them off...? I don't know, but I recognized that Ross guy from Coeur d'Alene when his camera crew blocked me into T2.

I wanted to get to the front, but I was scared. I knew I was quite out of my league. However, in hindsight, I should've pushed to the front. It's a bit frightening to be in with a bunch of athletes who will fight to the front as much as you will. I was about 8-9 rows back from the start of the wave. They allow us to jump in the water and my body, even with full wetsuit is shocked! The water was absolutely FREEZING! My hands and feet were already getting numb being in the water less than 30 seconds. Everyone was shocked and we were joking about how cold it was. "Are we in Alaska?" "Is this Galena??" The start couldn't come soon enough. Oh my gosh, it was some of the coldest water I've ever swam in. No one would have ever guessed the water temperature could be so cold at the end of August!

The horn sounded and we were off. I got kicked, hit, swam over, dunked, and well, you name it. It was one of the roughest swim starts ever. I was with this super aggressive group of people and I just wasn't used to it. Instead of being aggressive back, I swam with my head up and let all the fast people get away. Bad move. I ended up drafting most of the swim behind some guy who was really too slow for me. But it was easy and I was on cruise control! Once we got to the half way point, the field opened up and I was able to swim without feeling like my arms were being tied behind my back! I had no idea if I was in front or back of the back, so I just assumed I was IN the pack.

I was barely breathing hard when I got to the swim exit. I was happy to be done because my right rotator cuff was starting to act up. I got out, started running then pulled off to the side to get my wetsuit off. It came off pretty quickly and I tried to run to transition. The unfortunate combination of no shoes and hard concrete made my shin scream with every step. I slowed to a hobble as I watched many athletes run right past me. It was tough, but I refuse to make this injury any worse before I make it better. I limped on into transition and as soon as I got onto the grassy surface, the pain wasn't as bad.

The transition was sort of like a mud pit and at some points, the mud squished between my toes as I ran to my bike. Aw man, this is nasty! I got to my bike, not very winded nor shaky as I usually am, and quickly put on my socks...over my dirty, nasty, feet (it hurt to put clean socks on my disgustingly muddy feet) and had a pretty quick transition. Women on both the left and right of me came in huffing and puffing and seemed like they were taking forever to transition out.

I tried running to the bike out, but running in bike shoes through the nasty mud made it difficult. Wasn't even thinking about the shin at this point. I got on my bike after the dismount line and got a rather slow start up the ramp on to Lake Shore Drive. But then I got pumping. I was determined to have a good bike. I needed to redeem my poor bike split from Pleasant Prairie just the week before.

I was pedaling along smoothly when a VQ chick passed me. DAMMIT! I tried to keep her in close distance without drafting. I'd pass her, she'd pass me back. The first loop was unbelievable! It was empty sans a few aerobottle sponges and a couple of lost water bottles. We hammered back and forth until I finally said something to her. This sparked a good, small, friendly conversation. At this point, we helped each other along. I chased what turned out to be Lindsay Zucco, and was pretty happy that she didn't just fly away from me. It was a tough ride, but it was envigorating!

The second lap was a bit more difficult. Other Olympic distance athletes were now on the course and either they don't know the rules or choose to ignore them. I was riding with another woman, who I did not know, and we became trapped behind two men, riding on the right. Well, at Accenture, you're supposed to ride on the left, pass on the right. The two of us were yelling at these guys "ON YOUR RIGHT, ON YOUR RIGHT!" They would not move. LOSERS!!! We couldn't pass on the right, or we'd be in LSD TRAFFIC. So I moved to the left and passed, which is technically illegal, but I wouldn't have had to do it if the two egotistical guys would have MOVED when we were telling them we were on the right. Other chick followed right behind me. When she passed me back, I made a comment, she laughed and shook her head.

I just let it all go, pedaling smoothly and evenly into the finish. I felt like I could've probably pushed a bit harder, but you know, my results today weren't even going to count. I flew into transition and immediately stopped and moved to the side. I cheered for all the women who I was jockeying back and forth with on that bike who ended up behind me. It was pretty cool. But also a bit depressing. Here everyone else gets to go run and my day is done. Over. Finished. I had such big dreams of being in the elite wave, and the dream is ruined. I couldn't even go finish the course.

Guess I just have to hope I can qualify to be in the elite wave again next year. And maybe then, I can go into the event injury-free!!