Vineman Half Ironman Race Report
1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run
NOTE: We had about 6 hours to kill at the airport. This is really long.Once upon a time there was a bib number named 1498 and she had signed up to do Vineman 70.3. She didn't feel all that prepared heading into the race. She didn't feel like she had gotten enough distance training in. Those 6 weeks of racing every other week really threw things off. To top things off, she awoke several days before the race feeling like she was getting sick. Despite her best efforts of herbal remedies, vitamin C, and positive thinking, and her friends' best efforts of telling her she'd be fine, #1498 got sick. It was plainly obvious when she awoke at 4:30am Friday to catch a very early flight to San Francisco. She was sniffly and just had that blah feeling. But #1498 was still trying to be positive - maybe it will pass before Sunday. She didn't have that much to do before the race (she didn't realize how much driving was involved with the different transition locations) so she figured she'd get lots and lots of rest.
An old friend of #1498 picked her up from the airport. It was the woman that got her started with all of this triathlon nonsense. They had met training for their first marathon years and years ago and had continued to run together long afterward. Her friend called her up one day in February and said "I think we should do a triathlon!". Not knowing anything about them, #1498 said, very hesitantly, "Okay?". We had 11 weeks - it seemed like plenty of time for a hilly Olympic distance race. Race day came with much success and #1498 was hooked. Her friend was a lot smarter and decided to stick to one sport for a while. It was years before she did another triathlon, saving herself loads of money and years of hardship.
#1498 hung out with her friend for a few hours while her brother came with the minivan to pick her and her bike up. #1498 is a huge fan of minivans for this exact purpose and can see a minivan in her future provided they eventually get better gas milage. The cup holders were to die for. In this bigger, better, faster, everything To-Go society, cup holders are like the new American Dream. Car manufactures now design cars around cup holders.
Her brother came in the day before to avoid all of the last minute rushing that inevitably happens right before a race. His coming in early did not thwart this phenomenon. They drove up to Santa Rosa and got situated in their lovely Extended Stay suite (#1498 uses the term suite loosely). The plan was to drive the course. Her brother also wanted to ride up Chalk Hill - the dreaded hill at mile 45. It took more time than it should have to reassemble her bike (Stupid handle bar faceplate, but at least she had warned her brother. She had called the night before to see if there was another way she could get the handlebars off saying that the last time she did this, she remembered having issues getting it back on. He now understood what she was talking about.), but they were finally off. They first headed off to the finish and drove the run course. It didn't seem too bad. It was kind of cool that the turnaround was a little loop through a vineyard. #1498 briefly wondered if they’d be handing out wine. They then hopped over to the bike course, skipping the first few miles since they could do it Saturday morning after a brief swim. The roads were twisting and turning and narrow. #1498 was getting a little carsick. Strike that. #1498 was getting a lot carsick. She made her brother slow down. They were approaching another big hill at mile 28. The first little rise they came to, #1498 asked if this was it - it didn't seem so bad. Her brother, having already driven the course, said no. Finally they rounded a corner and could see a hill in front of them. This must be it. But her brother didn't remember any of the surroundings. They kept driving and the hill kept going up and up and her brother didn’t recognize a thing and around a turn and up and up again and still no sign of recollection from her brother. If this was indeed the hill, #1498 knew she'd be in trouble at Chalk Hill. Finally, she checked her GPS phone (how on earth did we get around before them?) and discovered they were indeed on the wrong road. Well, that was a relief, at least she didn’t have to worry about that monster of a hill. At this point, #1498 took control of the minivan. They got back on track and started off again. Leave it to a woman to find the way. However, at this time, they were running out of gas. They had to detour to refuel and then tried to cut across the valley to reconnect with the course. Her brother said that the section they had skipped was really flat, so #1498 wasn't too worried. She was also starting to get a little tired (remember that 4:30 wake-up call) and was ready to be done. They found the course again (thanks GPS phone). And then...Chalk Hill.
There wasn't really a good place to pull over, but they eventually found something (after a few tries) just past the crest of the hill. They threw on their gear (or what they had of it - her brother forgot his shoes) and jumped on their bikes to ride down the hill so they could ride back up. #1498 started to panic immediately. The road conditions were terrible - not smooth at all and roughly patched together. There were also terrible shadows on the road making it nearly impossible to see where the rough spots were. After wearing out probably all of her brake pads, #1498 made it to the bottom of the hill with a great sigh of relief knowing that they didn't have to ride down this hill during the race. She started the climb back up. It didn't seem too terrible, but because of being sick, breathing was a little challenging. Thankfully she was at sea level. She made it to the top after a few false tops and figured she was in okay shape if that was the worst of the hills. She just hoped she feel the same after 45 miles on the bike. They finished the course and headed off to dinner for the ritual burritos they always have two days before a race.
After getting a decent night's sleep, #1498 and her brother headed off to the start to check out the river. It was much smaller than she had expected and the water was just as shallow as everyone said. She was pretty sure the deepest part was all of 6 feet. Well, at least there was no way one could stray off course. The water was a little cooler than expected as well, but probably for the better. She did a short swim to make sure everything was still working okay.
They then drove the first few miles of the bike course on the way over to the high school to check in and drop off shoes at T2. They got to Sunset and once again she panicked. They had been talking to some guys at the river who said that every year someone ends up crashing on this turn or ends up in the bushes. It's 120 degrees and goes downhill and then immediately curves the other direction. Yikes! All she could hope for was that there wouldn't be tons of other cyclists around so that she could take it slow. This became the equivalent to the Ironman swim start where there was no point in worrying about the rest of the race. If one can’t get through the particular panic point, there is no rest of the race to worry about. But she had gotten through the Ironman swim start and she could get through this turn.
They got to the high school and checked in without incident. It was really busy and #1498 started to feel really tired and was ready to get back to the hotel. But they still had to set out their shoes and check out the transition area and the crazy logistics that went along with it (go this way if you're biking, go this way if you're running, we have to run how long once we dismount?).
Many hours after they left that morning, they were back at the hotel. It would have been a great time for a nap, if only #1498 were good at naps. Instead, she got everything ready for the next morning. They had an early dinner (pasta of course) and were in bed nice and early.
They woke up at 5:30, which seemed like sleeping in compared to getting up for the flight. They drove over to the start and began to look for parking. Fortunately someone had opened up a field and turned it into a lot. It was just a short little walk over to the start. And it was cold. #1498 found a spot on a rack and quickly set up. She got into her wetsuit (for warmth) and headed down to the starting area. She was ready to get started - she hates waiting for the start. The one good thing about being sick was that at least she wasn’t nervous. At this point, #1498 didn’t have many expectations. She was pretty sure she would not reach her time goal, so now it was just something to do and finish.
Finally she was in the water and swimming away. She started in the front on the inside and got trampled immediately. Where did these women come from? There were only a few people immediately behind her at the start. She was able to move out of the way and eventually found a clear path. She could tell she wasn't swimming her best but she felt pretty good and she knew she was sick, so she just went with it. She had caught up to the wave in front of her that had started 8 minutes earlier, so she knew she doing alright. She stuck to the inside (not that there was much of an outside) to try and shave off as many seconds as possible. She made it to the finish and headed up into the transition area. A friend spotter her and cheered her on – it’s always nice to see a recognizable face.
The transition was a disaster. It was on sand. Need I say more? #1498 got her wetsuit off with relative ease considering she was not on stable ground. She made every effort to not fall into the sand because then she'd be stuck with sand all over her all day. Instead, she covered her wetsuit and everything else with sand. All of this stuff of course had to be stuffed into a bag so that it could be transported to the finish, and she was pretty sure that she had taken half of the beach with her. She struggled into arm warmers (wet arms + arm warmer = very difficult) because it was damn cold. She ran her bike out of the transition area to the bike start, which was immediately uphill. Some people clipped in at the bottom of the hill, but many people around her ran to the top of the hill to start, about which she had been warned. She clipped in early since the though of trying to run uphill in slippery bike shoes just didn't seem like a good idea and it was pretty crowded at the top. The road was narrow and she had trouble maneuvering through the uphill runners. She was pretty sure she was going to lose her balance and take at least 3 other people out. But she didn't and instead was off on the ride.
#1498's first goal of the ride was to get around the corner onto Sunset. Her brother passed her early on, but she had seen him in transition after the swim, so this wasn't a surprise. Besides, it was only a matter of time before he passed her. There weren't a lot of cyclists around her approaching Sunset, so she was able to stay relatively calm. And there it
was finally upon her...She took a deep breath, took it slow, and soon it was over. Now the ride could begin. The first 8 miles were a little tough. There were more of the narrow and terrible windy roads. It was also enough of rolling hills that it was hard to settle into a rhythm. And it was cold. Thank god for the arm warmers, but her toes were numb. Regardless, she felt pretty good and she was passing people, so she was pretty happy with her progress. The course was beautiful and she made a point to look at it. She flew through the first aid station, estimating her speed at somewhere around 18mph. Not too bad. But it was cold. She went to have her first gel. She open it with her teeth (she apologizes to her dentist) and then went to squeeze. She couldn’t. Her fingers were completely useless. She attempted to use the palm of her hand but it didn’t work so well. The same thing applied to her water bottle. She had to squeeze it with her palm, but at least this was a little more successful than the gel. The next section also went pretty well and she flew through the second aid station - she was over half way there. Shortly after the second aid station, the winds picked up a bit. She didn't notice a head or tail wind, but every once in a while a gust would come along and blow her sideways. And it was still cold. Around this time, being sick caught up with her. Her legs felt okay. Her calves were a little sore and getting tight on the hills, and she was a little short of breath at times (conjestion will do that to you), but it was mainly just that a tiredness settled over her. It was that "I just don't feel well" blah feeling. And so the ride that started off well, and eventually turned into just making to the dismount line. There weren't any mile markers and #1498 doesn't track the time, so she didn't really know where she was. She was convinced she was close to Chalk Hill, but she was wrong. Several times. Eventually Chalk Hill came. She made it over. She did have to yell at a car that was going so slowly to avoid the cyclists but it was going so slow that it was causing cyclists to back up behind it and it left no room to go around on either side. She did feel a little bad, but she was not the only frustrated rider and there was no way she was stopping on the hill. At least it took her mind off of the hill for a little bit. The hill came and went and she figured she was home free. She was wrong again. The last few miles went on for a long longer than a few miles, but eventually the high school was in sight. And, for whatever reason, 56 miles of bad road wasn't hard enough that they threw these speed bumps in before the dismount line. These were not your average speed bumps. They were about 50 feet high (being sick and tired, #1498 felt she was entitled to some exaggeration). They hurt to go over. Imagine a long car ride (56 miles to be exact) in the back set of a car with no shocks. #1498 survived the bumps and made it to the dismount line. She got off of her bike and thought her legs were going to buckle underneath her. But she was off the bike.
The run between the dismount line and the transition area seems like it's about a mile long (this is barely an exaggeration). It's on a gravel path that is covered with strips of carpet. It was not easy to run on. #1498 staggered forward barely able to keep her bike upright (her bike seemed to get heavier with every step). She made it into the grassy transition area and wove her way around to her shoes. She sat down to put her shoes on. She felt like she had deserved it. She caught her breath and headed out on the run.
The first mile was fine. But she was tired. And her feet were still numb from the cold. In fact, they did not completely thaw until about mile 4. She got to the first hill and got really short of breath. She started to walk up the hill. It was at this point that #1498 wondered if she was going to make it. 13 miles is a long walk. But she kept going. Similar to her coach at Ironman Switzerland, she started making deals with herself - if she walked up a hill, she'd have to start running again at the top. Most of the time this strategy seemed to work. Sometimes it didn't and she just walked. Somewhere between mile 3 and 4, she saw a wheelchair athlete on the other side of the road heading towards the finish. She and a few others started to cheer him on, but they all sounded a bit weak in their attempt - they were tired afterall. Sensing our struggling, the wheelchair athlete suddenly starts cheering all of them on and was way more energetic in his efforts. And he was going uphill. And then he said "You guys are great! You're my inspiration!". Well, we were all taken aback and someone yelled back to him that he was amazing. After than #1498 decided it was time to put some things into perspective. She really couldn't complain. Yes, she was sick, but she was not dying, nor was this race going to kill her. She could finish. And since her time goal was way out the window already, the least she could do was try and be that inspiration and enjoy the race. And so she continued. It was a slow combination of running and walking, but she tried to run as much as she could. She started cheering people on as she passed them or they passed her. The 70 year old man. The 72 year old woman. And so on. A guy caught up with her and they started walking together for a bit. This was his first triathlon. And he had just learned to
swim 16 weeks ago. In fact, since he only went to the gym once a week, he had only swam 16 times prior to the race. He said he swam a 42, which he claimed was nothing to write home about. #1498 asked if he was kidding. She told him that was an awesome time, especially considering he had just learned to swim. He already seemed to be enjoying himself, but seemed to pick up even more with the compliments and he finally started to run again. #1498 started again shortly after that.
She had now told herself that she at least wanted to come in under 7 hours and she told herself that no matter what, she was going to run the entire last mile. With about 1.5 to go, there was the final aid station. She decided to try the coke hoping that the suger would get her through that last mile. She diluted it with water and had two sips and then started her last leg. She wasn't sure if it was the coke, or where it came from, but #1498 felt good (relatively speaking of course). She picked up the pace a little. She was not going to struggle across the line. She started passing people. Spectators were now starting to cheer her for with finishing strong. After that last race in Loveland where she had missed estimated the last half mile, she was much better prepared and paced herself accordingly. She had several other inspirational thoughts that were a little to tearjerkish to share in this posting. She hit the ridiculous speed bumps and knew she was almost there. Over the gravel path. Through the field along the transition area. Into the finishing shoots. And finally, across the line.
She saw her brother just past the line and he said something (congratulations, maybe?). She replied "You know, I really don't recommend doing a half-ironman when you're sick".
Time: 6:19:02
I have additional reflections which I'll save for another day.
14 mile run
