Surprises...5430 Long Course Race Report

I really tried to go into this race with no expectations. I've been feeling like crap and haven't really been training. Actually, it's more like I've been feeling like crap and trying to train and as a result have gotten no worthwhile training in. CDA took a lot more out of me that I would have thought. Going into this weekend, it was starting to become obvious that I'm still quite physically and mentally exhausted. Three years ago, this race just happened to be on my birthday and a friend came in from out of town to cheer me on. About 5 minutes before the race, she told me to hand over my watch. I had never raced without a watch and looked at her like she was out of mind. She reminded me that it was my birthday and that I should go out and just enjoy the day. And so I gave her my watch and then went on to do my fastest half-Ironman. I was going for the same sort of thing...no heartrate monitor, no watch, no expectations. Just enjoy the day...

And so, with no expectations, I spent the Saturday before the race doing all the things one shouldn't be doing before a race. I went to the Farmer's Market. I ran a few errands. I went to packet pickup. And then I came home and painted my fence for a few hours. Yep, nothing like being out in the hot sun doing hard labor the day before a race. Painting a fence is not easy, nor is it fun, but I got my warning letter and so it must be done. After last week's lame attempt at brush painting, I broke down and got a sprayer which made such a difference. But it left my arms aching. Like too much swimming. Towards the end it was taking one arm to hold the other one up. Needless to say, I was quite sore by Saturday evening. At about 5:30 I realized that I had none of my race technical food and drink. So off for more errands. Then dinner and an attempted movie. And by around 9:00 I realized that I still hadn't packed or started to get my bike ready. Okay, so I was a little too relaxed. But you know what, I actually slept pretty well. I realized Sunday morning that I had forgotten to map out the course to figure out when I needed to eat and drink. Having no watch meant that I couldn't rely on that to tell me. And fueling is one thing I don't really want to go by feel unless I've eaten too much. Otherwise I know I won't eat enough. And so here it was at the crack of dawn and I'm trying to figure out mile markers. Definitely not my standard pre-race routine.

I got to the Boulder Res and had a lot less time to set up than I thought. I was convinced that I had forgotten something being that I was so lax about everything, but it seemed like I had everything I would need. There was a massive line for the portos. I don't understand the point of putting so many in the transition area where we can't access them. At least it gave me something to do since I had so much time to kill before my start. I headed down to the water and started struggling into my wetsuit. I went to test the water but couldn't bring myself to actually get in until it was time for my wave. I started a bit farther back than usual and didn't try and push my way up front. I was a little hesitant after the CDA near death swim, but the water was so ridiculous calm. I couldn't complain. The swim felt really fast. No waves and no one kicking me in the jaw - quite a relief. I was cruising along (or so I thought) and suddenly I was finished. I usually reach a point where I'm just tired and ready to be done. That didn't happen and so I thought I had rocked the swim (not quite I found out later).

I made my way into transition and had to pee badly. Unfortunately it is not possible for me to pee while swimming and it didn't seem like it was going to go away during the ride. And so I opted for a pit stop after getting out of my wetsuit. The good thing was that I got it out of the way. The bad thing is that it sucks to try and pull up spandex when you're wet. It's a struggle in the same way that putting a wet suit on is. I got reassembled to the best of my ability (seriously, it's like you're suddenly 3 and trying to dress yourself and nothing lines up quite right!) I eventually made it back to my bike and headed out. Certainly not my slowest transition time, but it wasn't quick.

I headed out on the bike and could feel my legs immediately. I was hoping that it would go away once I got going and for the most part it did. I have been feeling a little bit stronger on the bike and though I had no expectations for the day, I was hoping that I would at least have a good bike split. It seemed unlikely, but it I figured I'd rather be optimistic. I can't quite say that I felt fast, because it's hard to feel fast when everyone is flying past you (at least I said hi Kristina even though you didn't know who it was), but I did feel a bit faster and like the swim, I never quite reached the "I'm ready to be done" phase. Maybe I did get something positive out of CDA - after so many hours and hours this, this really was nothing. AND, I made the turnarounds. Both times. This is HUGE for me. I usually have to clip out because I'm not comfortable doing such tight turns. But I had been practicing - we have this ridiculous sharp 100 degree (roughly) turn from the bike path to work and I've consistenly been making this turn and had told myself that I was going to ride through these. The first time I took it really wide and must have been so slow because someone actually passed me on the inside. Show-off. Whatever, I got a smile out of myself both times. The second lap hurt a bit more, especially on the hills. I could feel the ache in my quads everytime I stood up. I ignored it as best I could and just reminded myself to have fun. I was just out for a bike ride, with 1000 other people, that just happened to be timed. No big deal. Before I knew it, I was back at the Res and back in transition.

T2 went much faster though I wasn't exactly sure where my rack was. Another thing I forgot to do with my no expectations race. I hadn't counted racks so I was sort of meandering through. There were no mishaps at the rack this year - 2 years ago was a bit of a mess - and I made my way out to the run.

The run start off really slow. I mean really slow. Like I possibly could have walked faster than my shuffling. I started cramping right away, which has been the norm after my last few rides. I've done 3 bricks since CDA and all 3 have been failures. I would make it about 2 miles at most and then completely fall apart. A lot of it was nutrition related. This "brick" wasn't much different except that I didn't really have the option to fall apart and turn around and walk home. And so I kept pushing through it. I was concerned about the heat and at the first aid station started to trying and cool myself down with water and ice. I think this turned out to be overkill since it never really got all that hot. At least for me. My last run was in about 95 degrees and I could feel my skin burning. So this was nice in comparison. Anyhow, I kept grabbing ice and would carry the cup to the next aid station and then exchange it for more ice. The ice chewing was keeping me occupied but was also probably slowing me down. I kept shuffling along with occassional (long) walking breaks. I still wasn't feeling great, but I wasn't feeling done either. I did remind myself of CDA and what I had gone through and this really was nothing in comparison. I got to Coot Lake where Matt and my sister and the dogs were waiting. I went over to say hi and stopped to pet the dogs. Remember, no expectations. After a few pets, I was off again. At the next stop, I grabbed some more ice, and somewhere over the dams I realized that I really didn't want to be carrying cups with me the whole run (I'm sorry, but I have a problem with just tossing it in between aid stations). After the next garbage can, I told myself that lap 2 would have to be different. It definitely was nicer to run without the cups. As I ran past the finish, I saw my coach, Craig, who having finished in an insane time, asked if I needed anything. Water? Gaterade? I said legs. I needed some new legs. I'm not exactly sure what he said but he rubbed his and said something about seeing what he could do. Well, he must have done something, because I did start picking up the pace. Lap 2 is where everyone starts to slow down and I was gaining speed. I was starting to feel okay. The hills hurt like hell but I kept going, holding a steady pace. When I got to Matt/sister/dogs I waved and told them that I couldn't stop this time because I wouldn't get going again. The last few miles were tough. My legs were on fire. I can't remember my legs ever aching like they were and each step was a struggle. I'd tell myself that the feeling would eventually subside and that I had to just keep going. The feeling didn't really subside and I had a few moments of starting to falter especially out on those damn dams. But once I hit the pavement, that crossing the finish line force took over and got me through.

I knew going into this race that the run would suck. My legs just aren't ready for it. I was expecting a lot of walking. At some point, I started wondering what my time would be. I was the second to last wave so there weren't a ton of people behind me. Being in the last waves does this, so at least I was expecting it, but it gives the feeling of being really slow. I figured I'd have an anti-PR (my slowest race yet). But again, that would be okay because there were no expectations. But somewhere else along the run, I started calculating finishing times. Race math never adds up so I should have known better, but I did it several times and always came up with the same answer. What I came up with was if I crossed before 6:45, I'd have broken 6 hours, which I have never done. So here I was going between PRs and anti-PRs but really having no idea where I was. I purposely didn't look at the clock as I started lap 2. I started picking up the pace on the downhill towards the finish line. I passed another woman in my age group. About 10 seconds later, she kicked in and passed me back. She sprinted ahead a bit and kept looking back. I wanted to tell her that she had it, I had my pace and wasn't about to race her to the line (I mean, what if I were to trip or something?). Anyhow, you can imagine my surprise when I rounded the corner and saw 6:45 and change on the clock. I actually said something out loud - I think I said No Way! in disbelief. I almost started crying and then kicked in the sprint (the risk of tripping was no longer a concern). I crossed the line and immediately normal math kicked in as I remembered that I started at 7:10, not 7:15. I confirmed later that this was my second fastest time, which was quite the surprise. It seems like not wearing a watch really works for me.

And of course, after knowing my time, I have since been trying to figure out where the lost minutes went. There was the minute or so pit stop/clothes wrestling. And Matt reminded me later that I had to stop and pet the dogs. This would have given me my PR. And the extra minutes that would have given my under 6...well, my swim didn't rock and was about 2 minutes slower. Had my first lap of the run been like my second, I would have multiple minutes there. But I did negative split the run, which is a first. And, most importantly, I did have my fastest bike split. Not by a lot, and certainly nothing to write home about compared with those averaging over 20mph, but it was big for me.

So after having no expectations and surpring myself with my time and being overall happy with the results, I do have to admit that there is a little bit of disappointment because I was so close to a PR. Had I had an anti-PR, this wouldn't be an issue since it seemed more realistic. But I really was so close (even closer with race math). And though I keep trying to tell myself that had I been fully recovered, I would have made it, but it's so hard to know that for sure since it always seems like there is something that will come up. I will say that I am already excited for next year, whereas last week I didn't even want to think about next year.

And so ends my 2009 season. It had lots of downs, but a few ups as well. I learned a lot about will-power. And I learned that talking to myself to 15.5 hours is maybe not something I should do very often. Many thanks to my family and friends for their support and for putting up with another difficult year of training. End of summer BBQ at my place...I'll make dessert.

Harvest Moon Long Course

1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run

I agree with Mike that this should be called Hardest Moon. It wasn't just the course - it was hard in so many ways. I was so ready to be done a month ago. It's hard to drag yourself out of bed at 4:30 for a race you're not thrilled about. It's also hard to drag yourself out of be at 4:30 when it's 47 degrees and raining. Everything about waking up that morning screamed "Go back to bed!" Driving over to Kansas (well, it's practically Kansas) with the both the rain and temperature coming down, Matt said at one point "If it's 47 and raining when we get there, you're not racing". You know what? I didn't argue. I was more than fine with that. So it was almost unfortunate when the rain stopped. Of course, then the wind started. As you can see, I really didn't want to get out of the car.My second mistake of the day (the first being getting out of bed), was to hit up the port-a-potty before the lines started forming. I will reiterate that I got there before the lines started. Meaning that I didn't have to wait. Meaning that not a lot of people had been using them. So how it was to be that this was the most repulsive smelling portable toilet I've ever been in is beyond me. I actually gagged. Twice. Even thinking about it now brings back memories I am trying to suppress. Anyhow, there went my chance at eating anything before the race. I usually have to force something down as it is, but there was no way I was going to get anything to go down other than water.

Shivering and with teeth chattering, I went to set up shop. No one around me was putting out extra clothes and here I was practically with a suitcase of extra clothes: arm warmers, knee warmers, heavy long sleeve shirt, jacket, and gloves. Was no one else cold? Then the guy with the single speed shows up and racks across from me. Matt wondered if he was out of his mind. I told him that I bet he'd pass me on the bike. I put on my wetsuit and sweatshirt and headed down to the beach.

We stood behind a shed to block the wind. I couldn't get warm. The wind had picked up and I didn't think I could actually leave the cover of the shed. They announced that the water temperature was 61 in the cove and likely several degrees colder farther out. I really did not want to do this race. Matt told me to just try the swim and then decide. I knew he was right. I finally went to go check out the water. It actually wasn't bad. After all, it was warmer in the water than it was outside. I think that because I was already so cold and numb, I couldn't really feel how cold the water was.

I found a spot on the other side of the rope, but I was way off to the side of the other pink caps. I was amidst the blue caps, but just assumed that they were also starting. Someone said GO! and none of the blue caps went anywhere. I guess I was on my own. Because of where I started relative to everyone else, I somehow ended up in the lead. I could see the whole pink pack each time I went to breathe and just couldn't figure out how I was so far ahead. According to Matt, it was pretty funny to watch since I was all alone out front for a little while. I settled in behind another pink capper and decided to draft off of her. She probably wasn't the most ideal person to draft off of as she was relatively my speed, but she was right there, so I tried it. The water was relatively clear and she was a kicker, so she was pretty easy to follow. I lost her going by the last few buoys as we started to catch up to the previous wave, so I swam the last little bit alone.

I got out and it was cold. I spent several minutes struggling into various pieces of clothing. I figured putting on a long sleeve shirt would be easier than wrestling with arm warmers. I was wrong. I also couldn't really feel my hands, so speed wasn't really my concern. I went with the long sleeve and long knee warmers. I did forget my gloves. I threw my towel down when I grabbed my shirt and the towel fell over the gloves and I immediately forgot all about them. It didn't help that I couldn't feel my hands as a reminder. I was instantly reminded when I got on the bike. It was *&%&!-ing cold. I tried to pull my sleeves over my hands, but it didn't work so well and made shifting difficult. After a few miles, I seriously contemplated turning around. My hands just hurt and didn't seem to be getting any warmer. But then my friend Steve rode up beside me and I cheated by accepting outside support. He asked how I was doing and I started ranting about the cold and forgetting my gloves. He offered me his and I gladly took them. Thank you Steve! I'm not sure that I would have been able to finish without them - I kept them on until the last 5 or so miles. The ride was pretty miserable. I'm so glad I had ridden in two weeks before so I felt a little better prepared. Of course, when I last rode it, it was probably at least 95 degrees and now I was at the opposite end of the spectrum. My feet were numb and my legs were pretty cold throughout the ride. The last set of rollers were the worst. I couldn't really stand because my quads were so cold and ready to give way. I couldn't really push down or pull up on the pedals due to other numbness in my legs. And so I pretty much crawled up the hills. It's usually at this point that I start to look forward to the run and something different and finally getting off the bike. I was not looking forward to the run. I had no idea how my legs were going to handle it. I would soon find out.

Oh, and with maybe 500 feet to go before the dismount line, Mr. Single Speed passed me. I laughed.

T2 was not much better than T1. I put my shoes on my numb feet and then realized that I hadn't take my knee warmers off. I also wasn't doing very well at balancing on one foot, so there was a bit of flailing going on. And I almost forgot to take off my helmet. But then I was off. The first section of the run was on very rutted gravel and goes downhill. It just didn't seem like a good idea to be running on such a course when I still couldn't feel my legs. I shuffled for the first mile because I was afraid to lift my foot on the ground and not be able to feel it when it hit back down again. Around mile 4 I was finally back to full feeling. It was also around this time that the hunger started to settle in. Remember no breakfast? It was catching up with me. Despite following my normal routine on the bike, I never really caught up. I really started struggling just before mile 10 and my blood sugar started to drop. I went for the Coke at the next aid stop knowing that the sugar would kick in immediately. My Hammer gels were not quick in responding. That seemed to help and I stuck with it for the duration. My injured hamstring felt great throughout, but the other hamstring started to tighten up and forced me to walk for a bit. But I was okay with it - I knew I wasn't breaking any records. I was determined to finish strong and stick with my resolution from Vineman of making the last mile count. Thanks to the Coke, I was able to do it. I hardly ever drink soda, but I crossed the line actually craving it. And because of the BBQ lunch, soda was about all that I was able to get.

We didn't stick around for very long - it was still pretty chilly although the sun finally came out. It certainly wasn't my finest race. It was hard and conditions made it worse, so getting through it was a feat in itself. And though it wasn't fun, I'm glad I did it. It probably would have been worse had I skipped it. When I rode the course a few weeks ago and realized how hard it was going to be, I was sort of determined to do it and be able to use it as my baseline for starting CDA training. Since CDA is going to be hilly, I wanted to have a race with a hilly course so that I know how it feels and so that I have a better understanding of how hard I'll need to work so that CDA is a completely different experience. When you're at the bottom, there's nowhere to go but up.

swim: 32:53
bike: 3:20:51
run: 2:16

total: 6:15:27

age: 12/24
women: 40/110
overall: 207/329

More photes...

Steamboat Race Report

3/4 mile swim, 20 mile bike, 4 mile run

Matt and I headed up to Steamboat early Friday afternoon. We took the scenic route through Estes just because we could. I haven't been through the park in probably at least 15 years. It was really beautiful, although it's horrifying to see the destruction by the pine beetles. We rolled into Steamboat just before 6 and got settled into our condo and spent the evening watching the Olympics.

We slept in on Saturday (no dogs to wake us up early) and eventually made our way to packet pick-up and the pre-race meeting. Matt forgot his goggles, so we made a quick stop at Sports Authority and then drove the bike course (and here he was making fun of me about how much stuff I brought. I had 2 pair of goggles, but they were too small for him). We then decided to go for a short ride to stretch out our legs. We rode along the back part of the course since it was so close to where we were staying and we figured it would be better to ride the rollers rather than the flat stretch because what exactly would that give us. The road was a little rough with the recent chip seal, but nothing too uncomfortable other than a slight tickle along my forearms from the vibration. The rollers weren't so bad. And then we turned around and hit the wind. Let me rephrase that. And then we turned around and I hit the wind. Matt just kept on going. I battled the wind for a few miles wishing with all my might that it would not be windy on Sunday. But I can say that at least I'm getting a little better in the wind. We headed back to the condo to meet up with Mike who was going to stay with us that night. He and Matt went for a quick run and we headed over to Safeway to buy some stuff for dinner. After a yummy dinner of pasta, bread, salad, ground beef for the boys, and meatless balls for me, we settled in to watch the mens marathon. I also had a glass of wine, which I never do before a race. I also had about 20 gallons of water to counteract any affects, but it still straying quite a bit from my pre-race routine. It was a symbol that this race was supposed to be fun and no pressure. It was also an attempt to get me out of my current mindset of being done for the season - maybe if I enjoyed this race, I'd be more excited going into Harvest Moon.

I slept pretty well, especially for a night before a race. I woke up and walked out into the living room where Matt was out on the balcony laughing. According to him, what we were hearing was rain and gale force winds. I think we were all kind of thinking "Hmmm, maybe we should just go back to bed". Or maybe it was just me. The skies started to clear and the winds dropped to just below gale force. It looked like it was all passing over when we headed over to the lake. However, hanging around for the start, it seemed like it was getting worse. The wind was picking up and the temperatures were dropping a bit and the cloud cover came back. So much for no wind on the bike. The thought of just going back to car and sleeping was a very tempting thought.

But before long, the race was underway and inched my way into the icy waters reminding myself that this was the fun race. And we were off. The water was pretty frigid at first, but it wasn't as bad as Show Low and I got used to it pretty quickly. I started out in front and stayed in front. Unlike my last few races where I just couldn't get close enough to the front and had to fight my way out of the pack, things were nice and smooth from the start. I did swim into a few floaties, but I was expecting these. I wasn't expecting the mud pits at the end and sinking to my knees trying to get out of the water. I had a sudden image of Uncle Remus' tar baby - I wanted to put my hands down but then thought they'd get sucked into the mud and I'd end up on my face. Let's just say that it was not a quick exiting of the water.

I ran into transition and found my bike. I was still a little chilled so I decided to go with the arm warmers. And yes, I had also brought leg warmers and knee warmers. I decided to leave my gloves back in the car thinking that that might be overdoing it. I probably wasted about a minute getting the stupid arm warmers on my wet arms. It's kind of like getting into a wetsuit - there's always a struggle of sorts. The woman racked next to me came running up as I was fighting my clothing. Her boyfriend was right off to the side yelling that #1 was about 2 minutes ahead. She swore and then took off to catch her. Wow, I was pretty close to the front of the pack. Not like I had a chance of catching anyone on the bike, but it's still a nice mental thought to get stuck in your head right before your favorite leg.

I headed off on the bike and quickly found what I'm assuming was about a high Z3 pace. It was a little hard to tell with the altitude. I wouldn't say that I noticed it directly, but I did notice the effects of it with it just taking a little longer to catch my breath. I hit the railroad tracks and one of my water bottles went flying. I think I've lost about half of my bottles this year from railroad tracks. I kept going, ready to attack the rollers. Well, I didn't quite attack them - I was having some issues with other riders not riding to the right and trying to get around them without crashing into the cyclists on their way back to transition. I got to the turnaround and then WHAM! The Wind. Negative thoughts started leaping around and I tried to fight them out. Suddenly an old man (70? 90? old) came from nowhere. He had been riding on the bike path along the course and the bike path crosses the course by the turnaround. He was looking to his right at all of the cyclists coming towards him. He started pedaling across the street. I don't know how he couldn't know, but he seemed completely unaware that there were also cyclists coming from his left as well. He starts crossing the street directly in my path. I started to scream "Hey! Hey! Watch Out! Watch Out!" and started to slam on my brakes. He finally looked over at me with a confused look of "huh?". I slowed and swerved around him as did another guy. As the guy passed me he said "that was dangerous". You think? Well, there's nothing like adrenaline to get you going. Except for the fact that yelling had been exhausting and took quite a bit out of me. I was already breathing hard, but the yelling had been like doing some Z5 intervals. I was now completely out of breath. And dealing with the wind. The next few miles over the rollers were tough. I was fighting the wind and just couldn't settle into a comfortable pace. Finally something clicked and the moment had passed. I was on a hill and decided that the person I was behind was just not going quite fast enough. I made the pass and was back in the game. The rest of the rollers went much better, despite the wind. The home stretch was flat and should have been uneventful. But that would be too easy, right? I was getting close to the left hand turn back into the park. A car got into the left hand lane to turn as well. I assumed they were spectators and they had left plenty of room in the lane. The cop waved them through the turn since they weren't cutting anyone off. I was pretty much along side of the car as they started to make their turn. Their turn was really wide, thus making my turn really wide. They started to slow down and were practically blocking the right hand side of the road. There were a bunch of spectators on the corner. They started to yell. The car slowed more. I now had no way to get around them. I started to yell "Move! Get out of the way!" as did the spectators. The car slowed more. I was just about to reach out and pound on the window (yes, I was think close to the car and had maybe a foot of road between them and the side of the road) when they finally veered left and took off. I had been screaming quite a bit more than I had at the old man and was once again completely depleted of oxygen. And of course, I was now heading uphill. I struggled for a bit thinking that this was going to be a long ride back into transition. But I got to the final hill and something clicked again and I powered up the hill back into the parking lot.

I threw on my shoes and grabbed my hat as was off for the run. The leading wave was just starting to finish as I left for the run, so I realized that I was still pretty close to the front. The first half is relatively downhill and I figured it would be super easy. But it was also into the wind and it took me about a mile to fully catch my breath and get into a comfortable rhythm. That first mile I was definitely thinking that I would not be able to keep this up. I was also trying to conserve something for the second half since it would be uphill. Once I finally got comfortable, I was able to enjoy things again and admire the scenery. Suddenly I was at the turnaround and heading for home. The second half of the run felt so much better. I wished I had pushed a little harder. I was expecting the hill to suck, but I hardly noticed there was a hill. By the time I figure out that I still had quite a bit left, there was only about a half mile remaining. I went into high gear and charged over the hill to the finish line. I saw the clock at just under 2 hours. I was hoping to break 2, and I had about 45 seconds to get myself over the line. This turned out not to be a problem - they must have started my wave a little late. Final time: 1:58:49.

swim: 19:36
t1: 2:46 (stupid arm warmers)
bike: 1:02:42
t2: 1:12
run: 32:35

age group: 6/54
women: 23/243
overall: 111

The Other Side of the Fence

5430 (Short) Long Course

Well, let's just start off with saying that my relay team placed 2nd out of 16 in the all women category. Let me also point out that the first place team had a professional cyclist/Olympian doing their second leg. Deb was awesome on the ride and only let her have a 9 minute lead. Unfortunately it was a little too much for us to catch up. But I'll settle for 2nd, especially since it will probably be my only time up on the podium. Besides, first place didn't stay for the awards ceremony so were were the only ones up there so it made it seem like we were first.

The day started out a little strange. I actually slept most of the night. There were no nerves waking up. In fact, I felt like I didn't even have to really wake up. I didn't even try and force myself to eat - just threw it in a bag and was off to meet the girls. We met up at Vics at 5:30. Deb and Blake (thanks for driving us, Blake) picked us up and drove us off the res. We headed off to body marking where we managed to find a rather clueless body marker. We walked up and I said that we were a relay. He asked who the swimmer was. Lauren stepped up and he marked her arms and put our bib number on the back of her leg. I asked about the "R" and he didn't know what I was talking about. He said this was all we needed. Lauren asked about her hands and he said that we didn't need it. I was up next and told him I was the runner. He said, "Oh, I don't think you need to be marked". I told him that I thought that everyone should be marked. He hesitantly agreed and said that he'd just make them small. And that he did. We were #58. The entire number couldn't have been more than 1.5 inches. And again, no "R". I decided that maybe this was a good thing since if there was no "R", maybe no one on the run would know that I'm part of a relay and thus I would no longer be the person that everyone hates on the run. He marked Deb as well in his same minimalistic style. Oh well. I later saw a woman who must have given them the wrong number initially because she had a huge black mess on her arm where they crossed it out and then wrote another number next to her (yes, both arms). So I guess it could have been worse.

We headed into the transition area and I started to ask a volunteer about the rules for the relay teams. She didn't know and suggested talking to a ref. One just happened to walk by and I stopped her. She basically said that it was simple - hand off the timing chip at our transition spot. Yes, I knew that part. I asked her "But we're not actually expected to hang out in the transition area for 3 hours" and she said yes. So I asked how we got back in when we needed to - did we need to go in through a certain entrance and would the volunteers let us in. She actually didn't know the answer regarding the entrance and told me I'd have to ask Barry. So I tracked down Barry who agreed to talk to me as long as I walked with him as he is a busy man and was in the process of doing several different things. I told him I had a question about the relay rules. He asked if I had gone to the meeting, to which I replied yes but that I hadn't heard anything specific to the relay teams. I always go to the pre-race meeting and have attended about 10 of these over the past few years (all 5430), I can't say that I've ever heard them give specific instructions for a relay team. He seemed to accept this and said the same thing as the ref - just make sure you're in the transition area when your teammate comes in and just had off the chip. So again I confirmed that we didn't have to stand in the transition area for 3 hours. He laughed and said "Nooo." So again I asked if there was a specific or preferred entrance we use to get back into transition. He thought about it for a moment (I don't think anyone has asked this question before) and then finally said no. He kind of looked puzzled as if wondering why I was asking, so I finally said that I didn't want to get in anyones way since there would be athletes coming in and out at the same time I would try and get in. He seemed to appreciate my concern and actually thanked me for asking the question. As I walked away, I decided that most relays must be made up of non triathletes. Triathletes as a rule are pretty anal people. So naturally, when you put triathletes onto a relay, they are going to be just as anal. I was just being normal.

Anyhow, we set up our rack, which was a little weird. I have my routine of placement of things, but this didn't apply because I really only had my running shoes and bib number. It was a little weird. There wasn't really anything to set up. It took all of 3 minutes. We quickly reviewed again with Deb the exit and entrance as well as repeated the rules. Lauren and I are triathletes, but Deb is a cyclist and has only done bike races. The rules are obviously a little different. We actually figured it would be in our favor when we emphasized the no draft rule.
We figured she'd panic about the 3 bike lengths rule (we said to err on the side of more than 3 bikes) and just feel like she'd have to pass everyone. I think it worked pretty well.

We then headed down to the swim start. It was really weird to still be in sweats and a long sleeve shirt. There was no wetsuit to struggle into. And no rush to get into the water or down to the beach. I found Rachel and some friends and we watched all waves go off. It's kind of cool to be right at the swim start. Deb then headed off to transition and the rest of us headed over to the swim finish. Also very cool to see swimmers exiting the water. There are so many different routines. Some people don't even try to get their wetsuit off. Others are quite successful. Many people struggle, running with their arms trying to reach down their back or trying to get their arm free (it helps if you don't have your goggles and swim cap in your hand). Some people walk all the way to transition. Others run. Some people are super happy and smiling. Others are either in the zone or just in a bad mood. We headed over to the bike start and watched many near crashes as people crowded along the mount line to get on their bikes. I can't figure out why people feel like they have to rush this part. It's probably the most likely place that you'll fall off your bike and do you really want to run that risk before you've even started the ride? Anyhow, it was really quite fascinating to be on the other side of the fence spectating. It's a different world. Some of the highlights...2 hot air balloons came in for a landing. The first one was right over the road between the grassy hill coming off of the swim finish and the swim entrance to the transition area. It was really low. Everyone kept looking up at it since it really looked like it was going to land in transition or right on top of us. At one point, the announcer actually said "Somehow that just doesn't seem safe". The other one slowly drifted over the transition area and I'm sure the same thought was going through
more than one persons mind - they're going to hit
the bikes! But clearly these balloon people know what they're doing. They probably enjoyed messing with us. It was very Wizard of Ozzy.

Other highlights included learning the McDonalds is compostable and that some idiot dropped their iPhone in the porta-potty and called the police. I guess the announcers need to amuse themselves as well. I figured the sitting around and waiting would feel like forever, but it went by really quickly. Of course, we did have people to talk to the whole time. But it went by so much faster than I expected. Deb had been gone a little over 2 hours on the bike and I had to start thinking about getting ready. I finally started to get nervous. The funny thing is that I wasn't nervous about the run (well, maybe a little bit), but I was more nervous about the timing of the transition. I was thinking Deb would do a 2:30 on the bike, but Lauren was thinking faster. Finally around 2:15 I decided to just go into transition. It was better to just stand and wait around inside than to be late. She came in a little over 2:30 and I have never seem someone sprint so fast in a transition area. I couldn't figure out how she didn't feel like she was going to kill herself but then I remembered that she wasn't wearing road shoes and she had SPDs, so she had a bit more grip that I usually do. The transition took 37 seconds. She took off the timing chip, I put it on, and then off I went.

I'm pretty sure that I started out faster than I should have. I would occasionally glance down at my watch and every time I looked, I was in Z4. I tried to slow it down a little, but then I'd hit a hill and feel like I'd have to charge up it, thus making it hard to reach Z3. I felt pretty good the first lap and saw Matt and Ralena (my sister) just before heading over the dam. I could feel my hamstring getting a little tight, but it wasn't consistent and I didn't worry about it. Heading into lap 2 I started getting tired. I just haven't been doing much distance and I was starting to reach the point where I was beyond my training. Since Vineman, I've done one long run of 14 miles and only a handful of other runs, with the max distance being 5 miles. So I think it's an accurate statement to say that I haven't really been training for the distance and it was starting to tell. Not that this was a surprise, it was more just a matter of time before this feeling would kick in. At this point, I just started telling myself to take one mile at a time. I'd worry about the next mile once I got there. This seemed to work up to a point. It definitely got me over the rollers at the start of lap 2. I was also working on the mental mind flip. When I felt myself thinking about how tired I was and how I didn't think I could get over a hill, I'd turn it into I can get over this hill because I currently am getting over this hill. It does make quite a difference. Around 10 miles I hit my limit. I was several miles beyond what I'd been training and I really had to push myself to get through those last 3. I kept trying to remind myself of Vineman and that last mile. I was determined to make this last mile just as strong. But I was just feeling weaker and slower. It didn't help that at this time the sun came out for a bit. But I kept going, putting one foot in front of the other. I thought about the wheelchair athlete from Vineman and pushed a little harder. So, trying to keep these thoughts in the forefront of my mind, I just kept moving forward. The last little stretch where all the crowds are and everyone is cheering, there were a bunch of little kids in a line with their hands out. It was very cute, so I had to run over and slap them all 5. And before I knew it, I was heading around that last turn into the finishing chute and across the line.

Okay, so it wasn't exactly the run I had in mind, but considering the season I've had and what I've felt to be a lack of training, it really was pretty good. My hamstring held up and was only a little sore afterwards and this was what I was the most worried about. So for this, I was grateful. Lauren and Deb were awesome relay partners and we accomplished what we had set out to do - make the podium. It was totally worth it!
Swim (Lauren): 40:22
T1: 0:33
Bike (Deb): 2:34:21
T2: 0:37
Run (Jessica): 1:55:33

Total: 5:11:23

Other photos can be found here:

5430 Long Course Relay 2008

#1498...A (very wordy) Journey Through Wine Country

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.

Lake to Lake Race Report, Loveland CO

1.5K swim, 30 mile bike, 10K run
This was my first year at Lake to Lake. Overall it was a great race and definitely one I would do again. It went much better than expected. I've been dealing with a nagging hamstring for the past few weeks, ever since Deuces Wild. I was a little worried going into it since I haven't been doing much. I've had a race every other weekend for the past 6 weeks, so every second week is a bit of a taper. I also took 4 days off (4 very long days!) of no running or riding last week in an attempt to heal the hamstring. But I found that it really didn't make a difference - it still hurt when I finally went back out again last weekend, so instead I probably just gave up some good training time. But this is not the point...

The day started out very early. Matt and I woke up at 3:30 and struggled out of bed. He somehow had a bit more energy than one would expect of anyone at that hour, but kept saying that he really didn't want to do this and I have to admit it was tempting. Especially snce I was not nearly as awake as he was. Even the dogs had no idea what was going on. They were like "Why are we going out so early? It's still very dark outside and we should all still be sleeping". Naturally, as soon as I pulled out the food they were immediately awake and ready to go. At They went back to bed immediately. Lucky them.

We got the car loaded and were on the road a little after 4. I still had to get gas and didn't realize that there are not so many options at 4AM. I always thought that pay at the pump stations would be available 24 hours. But as I learned very early this morning, this is not the case. Of course, instead of telling you this outright, it lets you go through all the steps of swiping your card and entering your zip and actually authorizing your card, making it seem like you're ready to go. Only you're not, because when you try and start pumping gas, nothing actually happens. Good to know for next time.

The drive was uneventful, but I was oh so tired. We arrived in Loveland a little before 5. Packet pickup was supposed to open at 5. The road to the high school was blocked off and there were no signs saying that athletes could still go through. I started to drive through the intersection where we were supposed to turn and then ended up doing some crazy veering through cones in order to get through. We were one of the first ones in the gym to get our numbers. However, when Matt got up to the table, he apparently had some big orange sticker on his packet. The volunteer said that he would have to wait for "this guy" to show up with the computer and verify his USAT status (he had the one day membership, for which he had already paid during the initial registration but for whatever reason, didn't seem to be valid). So we began the wait for "this guy". We were not the only ones waiting for "this guy". There was another woman sitting with us whose registration never seemed to have been recorded in the first place. I thought Matt had a lot of energy in the morning, but this woman made Matt look like he was still sleeping. "This guy" never seemed to show up, but a woman with an air of authority did show up. She also had with her what looked to be waivers. I told Matt to go talk to her. He got a waiver and came back to the table. Apparently there was only one pen in the cafeteria, and Matt was not the lucky recipient. But I had one for him to use. He filled out the form and then had to go back and stand in line. After all of this, which took at least 30 minutes from our initial arrival, he ended up getting up to the desk and they gave him his number, but never took his waiver! So what exactly was the point of all of this? A lesson in patience?

At this point, we didn't have a lot of time to get everything set up. The transition area was a cluster. There were supposed to be 10 bikes per rack and most of them looked full. We were able to squeeze ourselves in without much of an issue, but according to Amanda and Amy, there were many crabby people there that just didn't want to make room for people. It was a little bit of a tight fit and I ended up having to stack things on top of each other. It just seems like things would be so much easier if the racks were numbered. There wasn't too much time to worry about this - we still had to get marked and make our way down to the start.

Matt started in the first wave and I was 4 minutes behind him. My instructions from Craig were to start at the front and cut left to the first buoy. I was pretty close to the front, but I think I was too far over to the right. There wasn't exactly a designated start line and since everyone was entering the water to my left, I didn't really have a good chance of getting farther over without being in the middle of everything. I decided to stay where I was. The swim was pretty rough up to the first buoy. I couldn't find a clear path. The woman to the right of me kept swimming to the left and the woman to the left of me kept swimming to the right and I kept getting trapped in between. After rounding the first buoy, I was finally able to get through them and had an open path. Aside from some floaties, most of which hit me full in the face, the rest of the swim went well. The water was warm, calm, and relatively clear. It seemed to go by pretty fast and I have to think that it was a slightly shorter course. But perhaps they made up for it with the really long run from the beach back to the transition area. We're guessing it was about a 90 second run...it was quite a hike.

T1 went a lot faster than my past two races, though I'm not sure I did anything different. I actually sat down to dry off my feet and try and get most of the grass off of them before putting on my socks. Yes, I'm a sock wearer. I can give up a few seconds for a little more comfort. And I do have to say that I like the grassy transitions - it makes for a nicer run with the bike without fear of wiping out before even getting out of the transition area.

Commence the bike. The bike didn't start off that well. I just couldn't seem to get my legs moving. I was trying to get myself motivated when a guy in front of me crashed. He wasn't wearing a shirt and was pretty scratched up. Fortunately, he was able to get up and get back on the bike and was able to pass me shortly after that. But it wasn't a pretty sight and we did a bit of leapfrogging for the next 5 miles or so. Each time he passed, I got a little more queasy with the dripping blood and all. Finally he left me once and for all so I tried to reflect on nicer things. Once we got off the main roads, the ride was actually really nice and scenic. I felt really slow but tried not to focus on it and just told myself to keep the cadence up. My hamstring was bothering me on and off for that first third, which also didn't help since I just kept worrying about it. I finally got to a point somewhere during the long climb towards the midpoint of the ride where everything seemed to kick in and I finally felt like I was riding. I was actually able to start passing a few people on the climb. I kept thinking back to what Craig said with attacking on the hills and just went for it. Most of them caught me again on the downhill before the really steep climb - they had a bit more weight on me. But I really pushed it on the steep hill and flew right past them again. And most of them didn't catch up again. There was one woman who was annoying me for a while. She clearly couldn't climb or was just too tired at the point to do so. I kept passing her on the climbs and she'd come flying past on the downhill as I was recovering, but then immediately stall again once the hill ended. We finally got to a section of rollers and I decided I was going to pass once and for all. I didn't see her again after that. The rest of the ride went pretty well, though there was one section towards the end where we were riding on the other side of the road. It was a little weird. No one was completely sure where to ride and which side to pass on. Finally we pulled back into the parking lot and back to the transition area.

T2 was a little more of an effort than I had expected. I got back to my spot and someone else's bike was already there. I really couldn't put my bike elsewhere because then I'd be taking someone else's spot. So I made the assumption that this person was really next to me and somehow managed to move their bike over and get mine squeezed in. Also, because of the whole stacking of my stuff, I had to do a little digging to find everything for the run.

The run for all three races I've done this year have all started the same way. I've felt like I had way too much to drink and that there's liquid just sloshing around. I purposely stopped drinking when I through we were about 5 miles out, but it didn't seem to make much a difference. And it's kind of a hard feeling to shake. But I pushed forward. I really didn't like the run. There was a little too much on the main road and the side roads were pretty sloped. It was an out and back run and there was also a section where someone decided that people heading out should run on the sidewalk so that people heading back in could have the road. And of course, once one person did it, everyone followed. This would have been fine, but it was a sidewalk (as opposed to a bike path or something), so every few feet their were driveways, which meant that it dipped down and then back up. This does not make for a smooth run. I saw Amy somewhere between miles 2 and 3, and then Matt shortly after. Both looked like they were running strong. Heading back, I saw Amanda. I must say, the new HEP shirts are so bright that you really can't miss people. The rest of the run I just focused on one step at a time, telling myself that it was almost over. We finally got back to the park and the volunteers said there was only half a mile left. I didn't believe them. It didn't seem like it could be that far and they didn't look like the types of people that actually knew how far half a mile was. So, shortly after passing them, I started picking up the pace. Big mistake. I thought the finish to the Marine Corps marathon was bad being uphill and around a big circle (you can't see the finish until you're right there). This was so much worse. Having no idea how the run course actually went, I assume that the finish was always just ahead of me. Only I couldn't hear the crowd that one normally hears approaching the finish line. Every time we rounded a corner, there was always another runner way up ahead of me. Where the hell was the finish? And it didn't help that everyone lined on this section of the coarse kept cheering "you're almost there". There should be lessons in cheering - you should never say that someone is almost there until they really are almost there. I rounded another corner and saw people on the other side of the water still running. So I still had to go forwards, cross over the water somewhere, and then started heading back. I was really dying at this point. I was passed by a 66 year old man. I think that must have been what got me moving again. Finally I was on the other side of the water and could finally hear people cheering. There was a timing pad many feet in front of the finish (I still couldn't see the finish). I was thinking "wow, this is kind of a lame finish" and was all ready to stop after this pad, but fortunately there was a volunteer telling me not to stop. At this point, I could finally see the finish and saw that the clock said 2:58. My goal was sub-3 so I charged across the line as though the clock were about to jump ahead a minute. And then I was done. And I had completely forgotten that I had started in the second wave, 4 minutes after the clock started, so I easily met my goal, with several extra minutes to spare. Final time, 2:54. A great race indeed.

Swim: 26:42
Bike: 1:34:29 (19mph, which is pretty much a PR for me at this distance)
Run: 5.:19
Total: 2:54:19

17/58 in age group
226/596 overall

5430 Sprint Race Report, Boulder CO

75om swim, 40K bike, 10K run
Now that it's a few days past, I guess I can say that overall it went well. About 2 minutes faster than last year. Initially I was disappointed with my time because it felt like I was going much harder, especially on the bike. Despite the wind, I actually felt like I was going strong and hard and I actually passed people. So I was a little disappointed that my time was just slightly above last year's time (52:36 versus 53:52). It is still unclear to me how I was able to be about 1.5 minutes faster 3 years ago. I think the other reason I was initially disappointed was that I was the first women's wave to go off, so there weren't a ton of women in front of me - the people that were faster than me in my age group and some really fast women in the later waves that passed me on the bike. When I got to the run, since it's out and back, you can see everyone. As I left the transition for the run, I heard them announce that a woman still had not crossed the finish line. So, during the run, I was able to see how many women were in front of me, and there weren't that many. I had completely forgotten about that fact that someone behind me could still finish faster than me. In the end, I finished 69th out of the women and made it into the Daily Camera (top 100 men and women finishers), so I can't complain too much.

Anyhow, the swim start was a little shaky. I don't like going in a clockwise direction since I breathe to my left. I started on the far left, but up front. When we started, for whatever reason, I wasn't quite going in the right direction. I couldn't see any of the buoys and then realized that I couldn't really see other swimmers in front of me. I finally looked right and saw everyone. So for that first leg, I was drifting a bit. Once I turned at the buoy things were fine and I stayed on course just fine. The swim itself was otherwise fine - I felt pretty good.

For once, I felt strong on the bike. I was able to stay in my big ring the entire race, even on the hills, so I was really happy about that. I was also passing people. I felt like I was able to keep my cadence up and was pretty happy with how things were going. The bad thing was that I did feel my hamstring a bit during the ride. It wasn't constant, but it did pop up occasionally.

My transitions were much smoother this year and I was off on the run pretty quickly. Immediately I felt kind of queasy. I hadn't eaten anything on the bike and only had water to drink and I wouldn't say that I drank a ton. I tried to stick to the every 15 minutes, but not having a watch, I did have to guess a little. The feeling eventually subsided maybe half a mile in, but it never completely went away. So much like the Bolder Boulder, I didn't feel like I could push much harder even though physically I knew I was capable. I still felt like I was moving at a decent clip since I was passing a lot of people. I was actually really surprised with my run time and it being as fast as it was. It definitely seemed slower at the time. Everyone said I looked really strong heading out on the run, so I must have faked it well.

Results:
Swim: 13:54
Bike: 52:36 (19.6 mph)
Run: 23:39 (7:38 min/mi)
Total: 1:33:06

division: 15/92
female: 69/~550
overall: 303/~1100