Boulder Peak Race Report

The last time I raced the Peak was in 2007. I was sick and it was anything but pretty. Getting up Olde Stage is hard enough. Getting up Olde Stage when you're sick and can't breathe is near impossible. On 36 leading up to the turn on Nelson, I ran into Adam, walking his bike because he had a flat and his CO2 cartridge failed. I gave him mine and then desperately hoped for a flat so I could quit with respect. It didn't happen and I staggered on to one of my worst Olympic finishes -  right up there with racing in 40 degrees and rain. I expected this year to be drastically different.

I actually felt pretty rested going into this race. At least more so than L2L. I switched out my gearing the weekend before and my final spin up Olde Stage a few days before was so much easier! Wow! 27s are AMAZING! Well, for Olde Stage that is.

I felt like I got to the Sprint insanely early, so I gave myself a little less time. Stupid mistake. Of course there are way more people at the Peak. I got stuck in the traffic line as soon as I turned off of Jay. And I wouldn't say it was moving quickly. Fortunately I've been really good this year about not panicking and I was surprisingly calm. After all, there are only so many ways to set up ones transition spot. I finally was ushered into a parking spot and made the long walk to transition. My body marker was awesome. After I told her my age, she said "I don't believe that for a minute" and made my day. She also happened to be the wave leader for my wave as we were lined up the beach and got everyone going with cheering.

A quick comment about numbering: why the hell to the men get the low numbers and the women get the high numbers? Let's think about this. Our arms are so much smaller, much less surface area, hence much less writing area. So doesn't it makes sense to give us the 3-digit numbers rather than trying to get 4-digit numbers and have it come down past your elbow. I just don't get it.

Anyhow, I got marked and picked up my timing chip, trying to avoid the Bossy Volunteer from last time, who literally does everything by the book. Fortunately she was yelling at someone else. I made my way through transition only to find the racks full. That's what happens when you're sitting in the traffic jam. I counted 7 bikes on one rack and noticed that people had their stuff spread out like a picnic blanket. Why on earth do people need that much room? Maybe this is why we end up with 4-digit numbers. I asked to squeeze in, which would require moving someone's stuff (unless they were really two people wide), and people actually balked. "Well, we don't really have room" and "I don't know who's stuff that is". I tried to explain that there were only 7 bikes racked and there should be room for 8 and the whole time I was in shock that people were making such a fuss. I always seen people be exceptionally nice at these moments, sometimes offering a spot before even being asked. I mean, it's not like it was the end rack. So I just moved on and found a rack with fewer bikes. And nicer people. At this point I probably had about 5 minutes to set up before they closed transition. When I was heading over to my rack, I ran into Adam who was waiting in line for the bathrooms. Him: "Did you just get here?" Me: "Uh, yeah" Him: "What happened?" Me: "Traffic". Mental note: arrive early for 70.3.

Fortunately I didn't need much time to set up and for once I didn't need to use the bathroom. I'm really not sure how I managed that but I'd like to try and work this into my regular pre-race routine, because the last thing I need is to be gagging after I've struggled so hard to force food into my body.

I headed down to the beach and waited for my start.

I was a little disappointed to learn that it would be the same clockwise swim as the sprint. I can handle the sprint because it's short, but the longer distances, I prefer counter clockwise due to me breathing on my left. Another strike against Ironman. When we entered the water, I went to the front line since no one else was. The problem was that I again chose the outside, which is fine if it's counter clockwise because then I can see where I need to be and can eventually start to cut in. Doesn't work so well the other way. The gun went off and I started swimming wide. I zigged and zagged because I couldn't stay straight, but at least I was making forward progress. All of a sudden I slammed into something. It was a very large man from several waves ahead of me at a near dead stop in the water. He had to be treading water because his body was vertical, hence me slamming into to. But my first thought was that I had swam into a manatee. Brains are weird.

Fortunately Ironman decided to explain the swim course after the race started and we were not to do a 90 degree turn at the far buoy. The swim course was shaped like a house (square with a triangle on top). I got to the top of the triangle and started back to shore. Unfortunately, I somehow ended up heading towards the buoy I had just come from. And even more unfortunately, the kayakers decided to let me almost reach this wrong buoy before stopping me to tell me I was going the wrong way and needed to go waaaayyy over there. Thanks. And no, I was not by myself. There were quite a few of us that made this detour. Well, there goes my swim. I finally made it back to shore and didn't have any run-ins with things sticking into my feet like at the Stroke n'Stride a few days before.

Fortunately someone had pointed out a star-shaped balloon on the rack before mine, so I didn't have too much trouble finding my bike (you'd think having a yellow and orange bike would be sufficient, but it's amazing how it blends in). And off to the ride.

I didn't feel quite as good on the bike as I was hoping to. During the sprint, by the time I got to Jay, I was ready to fly. This time around, by the time I got to Jay, I was ready to turn around. It doesn't help knowing that Olde Stage is looming ahead. I pushed the thought out of mine and just continued forward. At least the hill is at the beginning. The climb felt a lot harder than a few days before, of course, I hadn't been swimming or riding hard going into it. But at least I had my faithful 27. I got to the steep part and saw Mike the Devil, who came running over and proceeded to run with me for a bit. That helped except when he asked how I was feeling and I could barely breathe to respond. I think I told him to ask me again when I got to the top. I wouldn't say the top came before I knew it, but I did eventually reach it and started the long descent. I actually got cold on the ride down but that didn't last long. I played leap frog with a few women on the rollers on 63rd - I catch them on the hills and they catch me on the flats. The one downside of the 27 meant I lost the 11. I felt like I was struggling at times but overall felt like I was doing much better than previous years. I got passed by Adam right before the turn back onto Jay and was pretty psyched that it took him that long to catch up. After that it's just that one last hill and then back into transition.

T2 was equally uneventful thanks to the star balloon. I did a quick shoe swap, grabbed my hat, and was off.

I had a side cramp immediately. I don't even think I made it out of transition before it set in. I told myself to just run through it and it would eventually go away. The cramp thought otherwise. It was so insanely painful - I don't think I've ever had a cramp like this before. It hurt to touch my skin. My run slowed to a shuffle and I tried not to breathe. At one point I actually stopped running to see if the pain would immediately subside. It didn't, so I started running again - I mean if it's going to hurt regardless, might as well run. The most comfortable position I could find involved pushing my stomach out. But it's really hard to run and do that at the same time. The two are sort of opposing forces. The cramp finally subsided shortly after mile 2, at which point I was finally able to run like I wanted to. I had a great run at the Stroke n'Stride a few days before and had been hoping for similar. Unfortunately the cramp put a damper on that for 2 miles, but I was able to really pick up the pace after that. My goal was 2:50. I rounded the corner to the finish and saw the clock at 3:10 and change (I started 20 minutes after the start). I had to smile. It was still in the 2:50 minute, so I'd say it counted. Either way, I still PR'd by 6 minutes even with a swim detour and a cramp. I'll take it.

swim: 29:11
t1: 1:55
bike: 1:25:33 (18.3 mph)
t2: 1:13
run: 52:54 (8:32 pace)
total: 2:50:44

age group: 28/105
females: 114/541
overall: 524/1347

And I have to say that Ironman is starting to get it together a bit more. Of course, I went to packet pickup on Friday and avoided the rush, but there were way more volunteers working and the layout made a lot more sense. And although we got the same hideous race bag, at least the t-shirts were technical this time.