Steelhead Race Report

My first 70.3 really wasn't even a 70.3! Yes, of course I've done other Half Ironman races, but this year's Steelhead Triathlon was technically my first "70.3". In the last few years, I've purposely chosen races that were NOT "70.3". But this isn't the post for that, I'll get to that another day.

On Saturday, after we did our training ride, we were on our way to drop off the bikes in transition when a storm rolled in. The winds picked up, stuff started blowing all over the place and my short little Kestrel was just hanging on the rack,
too small to reach the pavement. With the wind, I knew it wouldn't stay up there, so I opted to bring the bike back to the hotel and bring it in the morning. After all, rack space was pre-assigned, so I figured I'd be good. The wind was blowing the sand so strongly as we made our way back to the car, it felt like we were getting a microderm abrasion treatment! Unfortunately, all that sand stuck to my legs and some got in my mouth. Ick.

Dinner took too long that night, but we were still back at the hotel at a decent time and went to sleep pretty early. Of course, nerves won't let me sleep in and I woke up before the alarm. I quickly gathered my things and we were some of the first people showing up to the parking lot. A long walk with the bikes to transition and before we make it to body marking we learn the swim has officially been cancelled. WHAT? You're kidding. It's not a "triathlon" without the swim! The news disappoints me and sucks some of my motivation to really try to RACE. I decide that if my training buddy decides, forget it, let's skip this and go home, I'll go. It's dark, cloudy, very windy and I don't even get to do my favorite part of the race. We get body marked (what a cluster!) and head into transition. I just threw my stuff down and wondered what to do. Now we were WAY early and they were not even closing transition.

Now the race is a time trial bike start (3 seconds between competitor) and then the run. No 70.3 here. Oh, but the Age Group winners still get slots to the 70.3 Championships. Doesn't seem fair. So if you're a really crappy swimmer but are good at the bike and run and want to get to the championships, go enter a 70.3 that might have the swim cancelled. There's your chance! And that's yet ANOTHER blog post...I digress.

As the sun came up and I saw the water, sure, it was a bit wavy. Didn't look too bad, but I guess they can't take the risk. I get that. Still disappointed, but I get it. So now how do I focus on trying to make this a good race? And at the very least, a solid training day. We headed out for a warm up run that really wasn't good or long enough because of all the people milling about. I didn't feel it would help one way or another, but it was a way to pass time.

I put on my bike shoes, helmet and must've changed my sunglasses 4-5 times. Is it sunny? No, too cloudy. Will it get sunny? Should I use the dark lenses? No, the orange ones. Wait, no, too dark, ok get the clear ones. Wait, here comes the sun, get the dark lenses out again. It was super windy and all I had was my disc wheel. I didn't even bring the other one. Oops. I'll just deal with it. We waited as they started the age groupers off every 3 seconds. Made some friends with the other ladies whose numbers were around mine. Saw lots of friends while waiting.

Off we go - anti-climactic start with no spectators, but what can you do? I ride for about 10 minutes before I try to find my groove. Within the first 15-20 minutes I realize I'm riding way too fast. This is not where I should be. I'm breathing too hard. My legs are working too hard. Oh, but in the back of my mind I am thinking about all the time I have to make up for there being no swim! If I could just make up those minutes on the bike...wait, what am I thinking? That's so silly! But at this point, this race doesn't mean much, so let's just see how much it takes to blow MJ up. Let's keep this pace and see if I can hang on for the run. If I can't, I don't lose anything anyway...

So I fight for every mph I can get. Every time I felt myself starting to coast I looked at the clock and tried to figure out how much further ahead I was of my predicted (SMART) time. I wondered if I was digging myself into a hole that I would regret being in on the back half of the run... I was glad I had armwarmers and toe covers on. It was chilly. I had to remind myself to drink. I just wasn't thirsty. The winds whipped my bike around a couple of times, but overall, the disc was a good decision for the day. Due to the time trial start, I witnessed very little drafting, if at all. Then again, I saw no officials, so it wouldn't have mattered.

Mile 36 of the ride and I see my favorite abandoned RV and think of the training day we had out there. I had to smile. It was one of those rides you'll never forget. And wonder what possessed you to continue riding in those ridiculous conditions. Back on to M63, the final stretch of the bike, and I poured it on. It is my favorite part of the ride. I counted the minutes and we had a sweet tailwind that made this last section really fun! At the end of the ride, there was a sharp turn
into the park...WAIT! ON TO THE SIDEWALK? WTF! NO! This sucks! It was narrow, you couldn't pass anyone, the banners were blowing across the very narrow sidewalk that was actually the course, the turns were too sharp to maintain any sort of speed. Oh, yeah, I did not like the finish to the ride.

Once in transition, it was THE LONGEST TRANSITION EVER! Ugh, I got tired of running with my bike! I quickly whipped off my helmet and armwarmers, switched shoes and grabbed my hat, gels and visor and took off. OK...let's see how the legs hold up! Right away, I was chilly. My toes were numb from the ride - yeah, I know it wasn't that cold, that's just what happens to me! They warmed up by mile 3. Running along, a decent hill at the first turn...had a woman pass me with "52" on her calf. 52? WOW, lady, you're fast for an old chick...I know I was running sub 8s and she flew by me! Then I saw her other leg. Um, 52 was her PRO race number, not her age. Duh. No wonder why she was so fast! :)

Since the run was 2 loops, I didn't see a whole lot of our teammates. I started pretty early and I tried to pick up the second loop of the run when I was told there was a certain someone about 5 minutes ahead of me. Can I do it? I pushed. We went through the Whirlpool campus - a small, narrow path. First time through, piece of cake. Second time?? WAY TOO MANY people and tough to pass. Some people were trying to run 3 abreast. Really? I hate pushing past people like that, but I shouldn't be expected to slow down for that, either. I took in water at every aid station and most of it was consumed. I did miss a few gulps.

A big motivator was the Team Tri Smart Team Spectate! These are the cheering fans of Team Tri Smart and can be spotted with the bright, red shirts. Every time I saw a solid, red shirt, I looked. It was a huge boost to see these guys out there, cheering us on. On my second pass, I
pushed. I caught up to the only female who passed me on the bike. It felt good, though because she started behind me, I knew she was still beating me. I didn't stop to wave to the peeps, I just focused. I wanted to see what I had left. It started to hurt. I knew I had about a mile left. Just a mile. I kept telling myself it was less than 10 minutes, just keep pushing!

I ended up NOT catching my rabbit, but I had him in my sights! I was able to meet up with him in the finish chute and we had a little post race celebratory water together. We both overextended those bike rides and paid for it a bit on the run, but it was fun. And I STILL haven't done a "70.3"....

Ironman Florida 2009 Race Report

Though it was dark when I arrived to transition in the morning for this year's Ironman Florida, the time change the prior weekend meant the sun would be up shortly. I was pretty calm as I pumped my tires, put my nutrition on my bike and double-checked where my T1 and T2 bags were located. Unlike when I did this race 2 years ago, the change area was actually inside the building. Based on where my bike was located, it made for a lot of unnecessary running back and forth, which I was not very happy about. After a quick stop at the porta potty, it was time to head to the beach.

It was chilly out. Many of the athletes were bundled up in warm-up pants, sweatshirts and some had hats on. I kept my shoes and socks on for as long as I possibly could because that sand was very cold!

The sun shining felt good as I hoped I wouldn't freeze when I got out of the water and onto the bike. I went to line up in what is now my "usual" spot at Ironman races and took a few deep breaths. I had seen a huge jellyfish prior in the week and I tried to block that out of my head and focus on the task at hand! I don't think I was quite prepared as the cannon went off and we all started running into the water.

It felt like we had to run a long time to get to water deep enough to swim in. I don't remember this from 2 years ago, but it could have been the same. I wanted to make sure I didn't get tired from trying to run through knee-deep water. The frustrating part was that the water got deep enough to start swimming, but then there was a sand bar where everyone started to get up and walk again - this was just about 30-50 yards into the water.

Once we got going, the water was very comfortable. Making the first turn, however, I noticed myself being pulled up by what felt like huge waves. We were getting rocked all over the place and I wondered how people that get seasick would handle this. I had someone draft off me the entire first loop - I just couldn't shake him or her - they continually tapped my feet every 6-8 strokes. I thought about stopping and letting that person take the lead for a while! The entire last stretch, the waves hit from the right forcing me to breath to the left the entire way. Coming out of the water at the end of the first loop, we encountered that same sandbar, deep again, then shallow - I felt like I was walking entirely too much, but it was exhausting to try and dolphin dive that whole thing! The second loop was a little easier because it had broken up a bit. However, the chop seemed to be a little bit worse. It made me wonder how windy the bike was going to be.

Out of the water, I ran through the make-shift shower and into transition. The volunteers seemed to be a bit discombobulated as they scrambled to find my bag - I yelled my number just a few times before running over and grabbing my bag myself. A quick change, I wasn't as shaky as I normally am out of the water, and I went to get my bike. Got on over to the bike exit and started riding. I was pretty surprised that there were no "packs" on this first stretch out along the ocean. Everyone complains of drafting on this course, but I was pretty much riding alone on this section, with a guy passing me here or there. It was VERY hard to contain myself - this is a very easy course to overextend early so I fought with myself to hold myself back in these early miles.

It was about an hour into the ride when I realized I WAS NOT COLD! I think the air temp was 54 when we started the race. I thought for sure I was in for some chills until I dried off and it started to warm up. I didn't even think to bring arm warmers with me, but it seems I didn't need them anyway. The ride went very well. Sure, there were a few packs of riders that came by - probably about 40-50 miles in. I also saw a huge pack of drafters when there was this little out-and-back section. Sometimes I think you just get caught up in that, sometimes I think it's done blatantly. Whatever, I'm only focusing on me. There were a lot of guys that would pass me, slow down, I'd pass, they'd go by again, etc. I just focused on my steady effort and wished I could just get away from them...they always fall back...eventually.

I enjoyed this ride. I had such a bad ride in Kona that I was a bit nervous about how this ride would go for me, but I felt great throughout. There was a section we must've had a tailwind because I was flying with minimal effort. It felt like it lasted a long time, but I was mentally preparing for the headwind we were about to face on the way back into town. Over the bridge (the only somewhat-significant hill on the course) and then a left turn. And there it was, the headwind. I didn't stress, just put my head down, tucked in and rode within my watts. Wow, the pace slowed drastically! On this section, too, I jockeyed with one guy back and forth - very frustrating. He just wouldn't go away. By now I was very uncomfortable on the seat and it was painful to stay aero, but the effort was much greater if I tried to sit up.

I rode on in, happy to be off the bike and again, confusion with the volunteers and getting bags. I ran over to get my own bag, which was a bit troublesome because there were people and bags all over the place, and into the change area. I took my time and headed out for the run. Unfortunately, almost immediately, my hamstring started to bother me. This is the same hamstring that took me out of running for about 8 months. It started acting up during Louisville and I've been playing a dangerous game ever since. It was now I realized I had a decision to make. I could push through and really try to hammer this run and possibly knock myself out for the next 6-8 months - or I could ease up, limit my damage and still put together a decent race. I argued with myself the first few miles trying to decide what to do. What would I tell my athletes? I would tell them to back off - the injury isn't worth it. And though it was tough, I did it. I started to walk.

I kept on with a run/walk for the duration of the race. I started getting cold around mile 15 but I didn't bring anything warm to put on. The sun was starting to go down and the conditions for running were ideal. I kept on with my nutrition and tried to figure out how long it was going to take me to finish. It was dark before I got to mile 20. I decided then that I was going to pick it up a little. I was ready for this race to be over. Then I ran after mile 22, skipping the last several aid stations.

All in all, it was a good race. Yes, the run was slow, but I'm OK with that. It was an end to a very good season for me. I had even considered NOT doing this race simply because I was tired and my head was no longer in the game. I don't recommend 3 Ironman events in 10 weeks. I don't think it's good for you body and I know it's not good for the head! It wasn't planned that way, it's just how it happened. It will likely never happen again, but if it does - I'll handle it better next time.