It’s been awhile…there’s a reason for that. I’ll convey that in another post here
soon. But for now, I want to just dive
into 70.3 Santa Cruz.
Pre-Race
We began our trip by doing an extended road trip. We went from our home in Colorado through
Wyoming before taking a bit of a detour in Salt Lake City. We hit up a 24 Hour Fitness to get 1000
meters of swimming in, then went to Layton, where I spent a few years of my
childhood. T and I drove around the
neighborhood, seeing a few houses I recognized and a school that I went
to. The neighborhood was definitely
smaller than I remember, and so was the house I grew up in. Anyway, moving on. We continued on West Highway 80 through
western Utah, driving over the Bonneville Salt Flats which was a very cool
thing to see. We stopped and took some
pictures standing on the salt. Then we
stopped in Wendover for the night. The
hotel we picked was old and felt unsafe, so we unpacked the car way more than
we wanted to. Finding dinner at a casino
right across the border in Nevada, we then went back to the hotel and crashed
for the night.
Thursday
continued the road trip. We drove through
northern Nevada, eventually stopping in Reno for lunch. T and I both had memories of Circus Circus
from our childhood, but both of us were unsure if it was the Vegas Circus
Circus or the Reno location. A quick
visit to the casino confirmed which one it was.
After Reno, we pressed on to Sacramento, CA. T spent a few years of her childhood in Fair
Oaks, so after finding another 24 Hour Fitness, we found her childhood home as
well. After that, we got in a short run
at a park and found some dinner at a place she remembered from childhood. Then we stayed at a (much nicer) hotel for
the night and got some decent rest.
Friday was our
final of the road trip until post-race.
We took the 4 hours to drive to Santa Cruz. Checking in at the hotel, we figured out that
it was right across from transition and the race expo. Total bonus!
We hauled our stuff into the hotel room and then just headed across the
street to get registered/checked in. T
and I scouted out the trans area and were only a few minutes away from a race
briefing, so we hung around to listen to that.
After that, we went back to the hotel room to relax a bit before finding
a place in Santa Cruz for sushi. Not a bad place. Then we walked along the ocean a bit and the
Santa Cruz boardwalk before deciding to call it a night.
Saturday morning,
we made a roadtrip up to San Jose to grab Chick Fil A for our bike ride. We also hit a Target for a few things. When we got back down to Santa Cruz, we went
for a very quick bike/very quick run. We
also went to another athlete briefing where some pros were speaking. I knew Linsey Corbin was racing and hoped to
corner her and get a picture. Sure
enough, I pulled it off. After that, we
got in our car and drove a bit of the course.
We realized that there were going to be some punchy hills, but nothing
we couldn’t handle. Stopping for lunch
at a place about 11 miles from the start, both T and I discussed our
fears. I admitted that I was terrified
back at Silverman in 2015 but never said a word. She asked if I wanted to drive more of the
course, but I said no. I wanted to not
know what I was facing. We spent the
rest of the afternoon relaxing, eventually wandering out for our breakfast for
dinner. First we found a place to get
manicures/pedicures. Then it was back to
the room, last minute prep, and bed.
Sunday morning
was race day. I woke up with some
jitters, but tried to push them down. Leaving our hotel room for transition, I did
my best to stay calm. When I got into
trans and split away from T, it was like returning to an arena I hadn’t been in
awhile but was very familiar with.
Setting up my trans area was routine and easy. I had been there before and knew I could do
what I needed to do. T and I killed some
time and eventually got into our wetsuits to walk down to the ocean.
We were faced with what looked like a very dense fog as
the sun came up. We knew we both wanted
to get in a pre-race swim, so we eventually waded our way into the ocean and
started summoning the courage to dive into very unfamiliar territory and get in
what we needed to get in.
Unfortunately, T had a mini freak-out before the swim and
I was in the position of having to comfort her and reassure her, something I’m
not used to doing. I told her it would
be okay and she would do great things.
She seemed to calm a bit and we started working our way to the swim
start.
We heard rumblings that the swim was being pushed back,
and sure enough, there was an announcement saying it would be pushed back about
20 minutes until the fog cleared a bit.
Once that happened, they would let us know the gameplan. We found a couple of T’s teammates and commiserated
with them about what was happening. The
rumors were flying. Would the swim be
cancelled? Shortened? Keep being pushed back? No one knew.
Then an announcement came, saying that we would be shifting over to
another part of the beach, and that our swim was going to be shortened. No one seemed to know the distance – we heard
everything from a simple “get wet to start your chip” to 800 meters to 1000
meters to it would be a full ½ Ironman swim.
In some sort of organized line sort of, we waited our
turn to get in the water. It was still a
rolling start, but not organized in any sort of way. The swim appeared to be an 800 meter swim,
maybe a bit shorter. T and I both were a
bit relieved it was shortened. I said
goodbye to her, hit the start mat, ran to the water, and began.
The Swim
It took just a couple strokes to get my breath under
me. Knowing the distance had been
shortened considerably, I knew I could “bomb” the swim and still have a
reasonable day. So while I still stayed
a tad conservative, I just went for it and pushed myself as well. I was happy with how I swam, but not everything
was perfect. My new wetsuit was scratchy
against my neck a bit, so I opened it up.
I also had to sprint to blow past a dude who kept pace with me. My line was nowhere near straight. Clearly need some open water practice!
When my hand hit the sand, I knelt down, but tried not to
waste any time. I hauled my carcass out
of the water, and with no transition mat in sight, I looked at my watch. Seeing a sub 2:00 per 100, I patted myself on
the back (mentally) and started the ¼ mile slog towards trans.
Swim Time – 16:38
T1
With a very long run back to transition, I didn’t worry
about my time. Knowing I haven’t really
raced a tri in awhile, I took my time, making sure I had everything in
order. My nutrition was on my person, my
water bottles loaded, and I peeled out of trans ready to face the road and see
what happened.
T1 Time – 7:42
The Bike
T had said something very important to me the day before
or two days before the race – what happened in the past, both good and bad,
didn’t matter today. Draw on the good
experiences, leave the bad experiences behind.
Man, did that advice work!
I bombed out of transition like a man possessed. I had a very specific gameplan in mind. I would hydrate often but not to the point I
was drinking for the sake of drinking.
With a cool temperature and an overcast sky (still some fog too), hydration
was important but not crucial. I also
had set my Garmin to beep every 15 minutes to remind me to eat.
The first few miles of the race were through a
residential neighborhood up on a cliff.
Nice view, if it’s not foggy. But
speedy too. Then you do a brief climb up
to the PCH, where you ride north. The
PCH was a bit bumpy, and there were rumble strips early in the ride, so I was
on my toes.
My watch beeps at specific intervals (10 miles) and
notifies me of the time. When I saw
32:10 for my first split, I about screamed for joy. That’s an insane time. If I’m doing 35:00 or 37:00, I’m
ecstatic. So you can imagine how elated
I was. That being said, I knew I had a long way to go, a few more hills to climb,
and my pace might not be sustainable.
The whole time I was riding, I kept reminding myself that
the past was the past. Silverman and
Chatt? They were failures, to be
sure. But is it fair to call them
failures? Silverman was a brutal course
that I showed up vastly undertrained for, and Chatt bit me in the heat
department. I also reminded myself how
amazing it was to be racing in California, my new work home. I was so grateful to be enjoying myself.
On the first huge hill, I just tossed it into the easiest
gear I had. Recently, T and I converted
our gearing from 12/25 in the back to 11/28, which allows us to have an easier
time climbing. I definitely was grateful
for the extra gearing that day. I didn’t
get discouraged by the slower time; I instead used it to my advantage to talk
to myself and remind myself of what I was achieving.
An important note here – some of you may/may not remember
that at Ironman Boulder last year I was witness to a very unfortunate
event. A triathlete was hit by a car
about 5 bikes in front of me and unfortunately died. I was able to finish my race but her death
hung on me. Anytime I head a siren at
Boulder or Chattanooga, I couldn’t help but worry about T. At Santa Cruz, while I heard/saw a couple
ambulances, I was able to not stress myself and wonder if it was her. I think that played a major part into my day
going well.
At the turn around, I saw my time and was just stunned. I was sub-1:30:00, so I was on pace for a sub
3:00:00 bike. I would have been happy with
a 3:30:00, so to be doing what I was doing was great. However, I knew I had 28 miles to go and didn’t
have the greatest fitness, so I was going to be pedaling against myself for the
back half of the ride. I hit the aid
station, grabbing water. I was sticking
to a great hydration plan.
So the back half of the bike was definitely a bit more
uphill. Not more hilly per se, just a
bit more climbing. It didn’t matter
though. I was in a zone I have not felt
in a very very long time. I pounded the pedals,
churned out the miles, and before I knew it, I was turning back into town
towards transition. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, knowing I was going to do
just over three hours. I realized awhile
back that sub-3 wasn’t happening, and while I would have loved 3:04:05 (my
Boulder 2013 time), I was perfectly content to settle for 3:10:00. Bounding down the final hill towards
transition, I hopped off my bike, hit my Garmin, and got mentally ready for the
run.
Bike Time – 3:09:35
T2
I wasn’t 100% sure how long I had for the run, but
regardless, I breezed through trans.
Forgot sunscreen, but no problems otherwise.
T2 Time – 4:10
The Run
Okay. I’m going to
put something out there. My running has
not been good since 2013. I’ve done some
good stuff in running like the BAA 5K time, but most of my running has been a
loooong, slow slog to ensure endurance.
The problem with this running style is I have no speed for more than a
mile or two. Furthermore, I just have
not enjoyed running in a long time. With
that in mind, here we go.
As I started the run, it was getting warm as the fog
burned off and the clouds were cleared.
I knew it was going to be in the high 70’s/low 80’s, but it felt
hotter. Knowing I am susceptible to
heat, I was very conscious of what I was doing.
I talked with a few people early but failed to make a true run buddy. I also saw T riding back into transition as I
hit the first mile, so knowing she was in a good place was wonderful. I knew she would finish; she would actually
have a chance to catch me depending on how she ran.
The run took us back through the cliff town and then out
on a trail into some farmland that eventually looped us near the ocean. The first 3 miles of the run were fine, but
the run to the turnaround point was boring, hilly, and very hot/dusty. Definitely did not enjoy myself that much,
but started mentally thinking about how I was going to silence every demon that
had been haunting me. Every mile sign I
hit, I said to myself “one mile closer”.
The view of the ocean definitely was beautiful. I’ve spent a bit of time in various spots in
SoCal with Delta viewing the ocean, and this view certainly didn’t
disappoint. I loved it and I definitely
think it pulled me into a good spot. As
I started back towards trans, there was about 5 miles to go. I figured I might see T, but I might not
depending on how well she was doing. I
didn’t see her, so I knew she was lurking not too far behind. Awesome.
With about 3 miles to go, I saw a runner heading
out. I shouted some encouragement to
them, because I realized I had been there with Silverman. Hell, I’ve been there in a lot of races. I knew how it felt. I never want to see anyone fail and I hope
whoever they are made it.
When I reached about 12 miles, I made a true run
buddy. She was a Betty team member and
we talked about this and that for awhile.
I told her about my demons and she was happy I squashed them. She explained a bit about Betty and we
promised we’d push each other to the finish.
She went ahead of me, and I didn’t mind.
At the final push, you ran down a hill, hit the beach for
about 20 yards, then the finish line. I
was a bit overcome with emotion, but more determination. I heard that you run on sand to the finish; I
didn’t notice. I just pushed myself, hit
the finish line, and said a sincere thank you to whoever was watching over me.
Run Time – 2:59:48
Post-Race
Total Time – 6:37:53
I got my medal, hat, a bottle of water, took a couple of
finisher pictures, then went back to find T.
She came in about 15 minutes total behind me, and I ran to the finish
line to find her. We hugged and both
expressed our pride for each other. We
walked back to transition, grabbed a bit of food, then got our stuff packed up
and walked back to the hotel to get cleaned up and go celebrate.
This race was redemption for many, many things.
I will be writing a blog in a few more days about why I
have been incognito, talking about some thoughts that have been going through
my head this last year. I will also talk
about the future.
