This past week's recap will actually not be as fun as most of them are, unfortunately, as I haven't done anything all that fun.
That being said, we've officially started training for the Vegas half-marathon.
The week started off slow (going to a metal show on Sunday night and then working very, very early both Monday and Tuesday will make one terribly exhausted), but on Wednesday, things picked up and have been progressing nicely since then.
I've also decided, for October, to do what I did back in January and commit to moving/working out at least 10 minutes every day. I can find 10 minutes a day.
In terms of running, I had what I'm pretty sure was my largest running week in training yet this year - 17.22 miles (this does NOT include racing) including quite possibly my longest training run this year - 9.29 miles.
That 9-miler was ... interesting. If you paid along to my weekly recaps I did on here last year during IMAZ training, you may have noticed that I had a lot of things in "CCSP." CCSP is Cherry Creek State Park, which we happen to live down the hill from (no, literally, down the hill). We ride in there a bit, but I've rarely ran in there because I never wanted to attempt running-mapping the trails.
Then I got a Garmin, and I started to run in there a bit, but only a bit (my main 7 miler is an out-and-back into the park). Sunday, I decided, screw it, I have a Garmin, I may as well run in here.
Because it's me, and the universe likes to screw with me, my Garmin lost satellites at some point on the run after the 6 mile point. I glanced down, saw "6.03 miles in 1:03:xx" and thought, "okay, I thought I was moving a bit faster than that, but whatever," and kept running.
After a while, I hadn't heard my Garmin beep for mileage (which I sometimes don't hear anyway), so I looked down ... "6.03 miles in 1:22:xx." Huh. That's not right. Stopped it, restarted it ... and oh look, distance registered again.
Since thankfully the time kept running, I knew how long I had gone for, but I knew there was no way I only ran 7.whatever miles. So I ended up having to map the run ANYWAY. Thanks, universe, you a-hole.
In any case, it capped off a great second week of half-marathon training, so yay for that.
The fitness adventures of two Ironman triathletes
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Monday, October 6, 2014
The Running Shoe Lament (Free Verse of the Wide-Footed)
(Poetry corner on the blog today ...)
my feet, they be tricky;
bunions make buying shoes
an awful, awful experience.
let's go up a size
or ideally, in wide
for comfort is hard to be found.
since i started running,
lo these many years
(okay, seriously since 2005),
i've maybe had two pairs i've loved:
an adidas microbounce in black
with teal and silver accents
and fun inserts in both teal and purple
that i got cheap at sports authority
(knew what i was doing? pshaw.)
and my glorious wonderful
(and unfortunately pinkish red)
mizuno wave rider 16s,
the shoe of ironman
(and thank you mizuno
for putting a wide in a fun color
that's not just boring white.
even if it was technically pink.).
then they died, as shoes are wont to do
and replaced, they needed to be.
the 17s? though pretty they were,
the seamlessness
and the top of my foot
were not friends when they met.
with 18s months away from release,
off to the internet to find more 16s
(old models meant cheap
or so i hoped)
and of course they're cheap
except the ONE PAIR of 10 wides i needed.
i needed shoes, so here, take my money.
but ...
they never fit the same.
they try to blister my heels.
wide? you mock me, shoe!
people i know
who know people themselves
made me think i got a bad batch
(for the shoe says wide,
but believe it i don't).
a waste of my money
(serves me for not shopping local).
the 18s are out soon
(yesterday, in theory)
yet i haven't been able to find a wide
(i need to try before i buy)
(stupid feet)
as of yet.
i have a half-marathon in six weeks
and would like new shoes.
brand loyal i need not be
(i usually am
but said feet? mean shoes can not be)
but i think mizuno i'd prefer.
(never liked asics.
saucony? you wear out too fast.
nike misses more than they hit
and while zoot intrigues the triathlete within,
skepticism still reigns.)
so wish me luck in this journey
as my feet need to be shod
(barefoot i'll never run;
especially in vegas - yuck!)
and uncomfortable running shoes
are misery indeed.
my feet, they be tricky;
bunions make buying shoes
an awful, awful experience.
let's go up a size
or ideally, in wide
for comfort is hard to be found.
since i started running,
lo these many years
(okay, seriously since 2005),
i've maybe had two pairs i've loved:
an adidas microbounce in black
with teal and silver accents
and fun inserts in both teal and purple
that i got cheap at sports authority
(knew what i was doing? pshaw.)
and my glorious wonderful
(and unfortunately pinkish red)
mizuno wave rider 16s,
the shoe of ironman
(and thank you mizuno
for putting a wide in a fun color
that's not just boring white.
even if it was technically pink.).
then they died, as shoes are wont to do
and replaced, they needed to be.
the 17s? though pretty they were,
the seamlessness
and the top of my foot
were not friends when they met.
with 18s months away from release,
off to the internet to find more 16s
(old models meant cheap
or so i hoped)
and of course they're cheap
except the ONE PAIR of 10 wides i needed.
i needed shoes, so here, take my money.
but ...
they never fit the same.
they try to blister my heels.
wide? you mock me, shoe!
people i know
who know people themselves
made me think i got a bad batch
(for the shoe says wide,
but believe it i don't).
a waste of my money
(serves me for not shopping local).
the 18s are out soon
(yesterday, in theory)
yet i haven't been able to find a wide
(i need to try before i buy)
(stupid feet)
as of yet.
i have a half-marathon in six weeks
and would like new shoes.
brand loyal i need not be
(i usually am
but said feet? mean shoes can not be)
but i think mizuno i'd prefer.
(never liked asics.
saucony? you wear out too fast.
nike misses more than they hit
and while zoot intrigues the triathlete within,
skepticism still reigns.)
so wish me luck in this journey
as my feet need to be shod
(barefoot i'll never run;
especially in vegas - yuck!)
and uncomfortable running shoes
are misery indeed.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Patience
Today I did an 8.5 mile run, which went really well. I'm dramatically increasing the running, and the body and mind are responding. I'm feeling like I'm making good gains, and that my Vegas goals are in line.
What's hard for me right now is patience.
For those who know don't know me, I tend to be impatient. I'm that guy who is tapping his foot when I'm held up for whatever reason, looking at his watch, etc. Maybe it's my nature as a pilot. I don't know. What I do know is that on long runs, where I'm holding back as much as I can, is I want to go faster.
It's an exercise in patience. Dial it back, force yourself to go slower. Gains are made in the LSD runs as much as they are on the track or treadmill.
The other point where I'm forced to exercise patience is in the shape of my body/my weight. Yes, I am starting to lose the lumpiness I've gained over the past year and seeing gains there. But not as quickly as I'd like. I'm forced to remind myself that I didn't gain the weight overnight, and I won't lose it overnight either. Patience.
What's hard for me right now is patience.
For those who know don't know me, I tend to be impatient. I'm that guy who is tapping his foot when I'm held up for whatever reason, looking at his watch, etc. Maybe it's my nature as a pilot. I don't know. What I do know is that on long runs, where I'm holding back as much as I can, is I want to go faster.
It's an exercise in patience. Dial it back, force yourself to go slower. Gains are made in the LSD runs as much as they are on the track or treadmill.
The other point where I'm forced to exercise patience is in the shape of my body/my weight. Yes, I am starting to lose the lumpiness I've gained over the past year and seeing gains there. But not as quickly as I'd like. I'm forced to remind myself that I didn't gain the weight overnight, and I won't lose it overnight either. Patience.
Friday, October 3, 2014
9/15-9/28: What I've Been Up To
Yeahhhh, we know I've been a bit remiss with blogging lately. As a result, I've got some workouts to catch up on!
On Wednesday, September 17, we rode into Cherry Creek State Park ... mainly so I could test out my new helmet.
At Crescent Moon, I won a free Rudy Project item (sunglasses or helmet), so I decided I'd try out a new road helmet. The chin strap is a bit bulky, but other than that, I like it okay.
A few days later on Saturday, September 20, I went on a group ride with Richard and Carlos and a few other people from Kompetitive Edge. We rode from the store up to Dinosaur Ridge, past Red Rocks, through Morrison and back to the store. It was a fun 30 mile ride.
Almost back to the store; stopped at a light.
Stoplight selfie.
September 24 we hit up what is seemingly turning out to be our monthly track session for some 200s. We successfully managed one more this time than last outing, so yay for that.
After we finished.
Finally, on September 25, also known as our third wedding anniversary, we played a little hockey. I forked out quite a bit of money for an hour of ice time so we could skate and shoot and realize how out of hockey shape we are. It was a total blast, though.
Messing around.
Kind of looking like I know what I'm doing.
Yay, fun times, right? I know y'all missed this ...
On Wednesday, September 17, we rode into Cherry Creek State Park ... mainly so I could test out my new helmet.
At Crescent Moon, I won a free Rudy Project item (sunglasses or helmet), so I decided I'd try out a new road helmet. The chin strap is a bit bulky, but other than that, I like it okay.
A few days later on Saturday, September 20, I went on a group ride with Richard and Carlos and a few other people from Kompetitive Edge. We rode from the store up to Dinosaur Ridge, past Red Rocks, through Morrison and back to the store. It was a fun 30 mile ride.
Almost back to the store; stopped at a light.
Stoplight selfie.
September 24 we hit up what is seemingly turning out to be our monthly track session for some 200s. We successfully managed one more this time than last outing, so yay for that.
After we finished.
Finally, on September 25, also known as our third wedding anniversary, we played a little hockey. I forked out quite a bit of money for an hour of ice time so we could skate and shoot and realize how out of hockey shape we are. It was a total blast, though.
Messing around.
Kind of looking like I know what I'm doing.
Yay, fun times, right? I know y'all missed this ...
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
September Round-Up
Anniversary mini-vacation meant no blogging. Which is unfortunate, because I have workout posts about fun things. They'll still come, though.
Anyway, September. September was only half-way decent thanks to Harvest Moon. And only kind of.
Running: 37.62 mi
Swimming: 2881.21m (1.79 mi)
Cycling: 105.51 mi
Lifting: four sessions (1:11)
Other: one walk (:24), one session of hockey (1:00)
Did I do something non-S/B/R related?: Yes! We rented ice for our anniversary and played a little puck and it was AWESOME.
Am I strength-training regularly?: Still averaging that once a week, but yes.
Am I injury-free?: Unless you count frying my skin, including a horrible triathlete tramp stamp, which I did at Harvest, which actually did affect my run ... yes, yes I am.
Motivation has been hard to come by since the spring/early summer. Vegas is on the horizon, though, and we are picking up the running. The cycling and swimming are going to be tricky, but I know we need the cross training, so hopefully I'll still have some progress in those. We both want the strength to get ratcheted up so I'm hoping to have a few hours worth of that next month.
Anyway, September. September was only half-way decent thanks to Harvest Moon. And only kind of.
Running: 37.62 mi
Swimming: 2881.21m (1.79 mi)
Cycling: 105.51 mi
Lifting: four sessions (1:11)
Other: one walk (:24), one session of hockey (1:00)
Did I do something non-S/B/R related?: Yes! We rented ice for our anniversary and played a little puck and it was AWESOME.
Am I strength-training regularly?: Still averaging that once a week, but yes.
Am I injury-free?: Unless you count frying my skin, including a horrible triathlete tramp stamp, which I did at Harvest, which actually did affect my run ... yes, yes I am.
Motivation has been hard to come by since the spring/early summer. Vegas is on the horizon, though, and we are picking up the running. The cycling and swimming are going to be tricky, but I know we need the cross training, so hopefully I'll still have some progress in those. We both want the strength to get ratcheted up so I'm hoping to have a few hours worth of that next month.
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
On Being "Slow" and the Fear of Success
This is a post I've been thinking of sitting down and writing since probably May. Today was a good time to just get it over with since I don't really have anything else to talk about otherwise. Took a good chunk of last week off/easy (70.3s on little training tend to beat one up pretty badly) so I don't have any fun workouts to post about.
So, this. This instead. It'll be a bit rambling, so bear with me.
On Being "Slow"
I say I'm slow all the time. My times - especially in triathlons - tend to back up my words as well. Compared to some, it's also true. I'm also quite friendly with a lot of fast people:
- Mike - Olympian, marathon winner, second at the Leadville 100 this year
- Nic - marathon winner, Olympic trials qualifier, probably more that I don't even know
- Norm - half-marathon winner, consistent AG podium runner, qualifies for Boston at Boston
- Sonja - local triathlete badass, winner of my AG at IMAZ
- Ann - friend of Norm, qualified for Boston in her first marathon, just qualified for 70.3 worlds, 6th in my AG at IMAZ in her first IM
- Jenna - MX12 teammate and consistently places on podiums
- Richard - local triathlete friend, Ironman All World Athlete, podium-finisher
- Steve - speedy runner/triathlete from the Twin Cities
And even more that I'm not mentioning here. When I compare myself to them, I feel unbearably slow.
I also know, however, that compared to others, I'm also faster than them. I try to amend my words, to when I say I'm slow, that I'm comparatively slow.
I wonder though, is this holding me back? Should I not say that I'm comparatively slow, but instead that I'm not as fast as I'd like to be? Or as fast as I could be?
I believe that this all ties into ...
The Fear of Success
I do believe I am afraid of success. I have been for YEARS. It is realistically why I'm stuck in my current job (essentially minimum wage slave, but I've been working there long enough that I'm in pseudo-management and definitely not making minimum wage anymore). This is partially because I don't like the spotlight, and success typically means the spotlight.
When a bit of success comes my way, I tend to downplay it. You've seen that here.
- Barkin' Dog Duathlon - My first ever podium. I justified it by saying I got lucky, that I didn't have to swim, that all the fast people did the long-course.
- SkirtSports 5K - Podium number two. Small race, all of the fast people must have done the half-marathon.
At the same time, just like almost every other triathlete, I dream about making it to Kona*. Realistically, if that happens, it'll be because I got lucky through the lottery or I raced enough to get a legacy spot, but why shouldn't I try for the qualification? I say it's because I'll never be a fast enough runner, or because my swim is such a disaster ... but is that negative thinking the biggest problem of all?
I know I am better than I think. I know there is potential in me that's waiting to be tapped (in more than just the athletic realm too, trust me). I know Nic sees it and I also know that Richard does. I see glimpses of it myself - the GtIS half where I pulled a half-way decent time out of my butt on little training (and an assist to gravity). The realistic notion that I feel with decent training, I could have pulled a sub-7 out on the Harvest Moon course despite it being fairly difficult. That I had a sub-7 (or at the very least, a PR/sub-7:30) until the lack of training caught up to me the same time a massive hill and headwind did.
The question then becomes, how do I (or anyone else facing this issue) fix this? Is it a mental block? Brandon says that in general, I get fairly decent and to a point of breaking through a wall, breaking through to that next step. I try to break through, maybe just a little, fail ... and then retreat back into the comfortable.
The comfortable IS enough. It allows me to race and to finish and to be healthy. We stress in our household that we ARE enough.
At the same time, I'd like to be more, too. The more intrigues me. The more terrifies me. To change the limits and push through the fear - that is what I need to do, to be not "slow" and to succeed.
I think that to do this, it is twofold:
1.) Change the mindset. Ironman terrified me as much as it excited me. I made it a mental game from the outset to a when not an if I crossed. It was never going to be a question. My conscious choice this year to embrace the hill on the bike has worked for the most point. I still don't like hills and climbing - as a bigger athlete, I probably never will - but I don't dread them and they don't mentally break me anymore. I do not need to say that I'm slow anymore. That I'm not that good. I need to say ... something else. Right now, I don't exactly know what will work, but I do know that I need to figure it out.
2.) Put in the work. I can change my thinking all I want, but if I don't put in the work, I'll never be able to back it up. In IMAZ training last year, the best point was when the work made me truly believe I could back up my when I cross claim. I've got plans for putting in the work next year - I won't reveal them yet - but I've already shared them with a few people. Some people say I/we'll fail; others can't wait to watch us succeed. I, for one, can't wait to see us succeed, either.
*Yes, despite all the bullshit surrounding WTC, and how much of a dick company they're turning out to be ... they've hooked me with this. I can't help it. I know I shouldn't want to feed the machine, but it's been so conditioned by this point. Damnit. It's exactly like my merch comment in one of my IMAZ posts.
So, this. This instead. It'll be a bit rambling, so bear with me.
On Being "Slow"
I say I'm slow all the time. My times - especially in triathlons - tend to back up my words as well. Compared to some, it's also true. I'm also quite friendly with a lot of fast people:
- Mike - Olympian, marathon winner, second at the Leadville 100 this year
- Nic - marathon winner, Olympic trials qualifier, probably more that I don't even know
- Norm - half-marathon winner, consistent AG podium runner, qualifies for Boston at Boston
- Sonja - local triathlete badass, winner of my AG at IMAZ
- Ann - friend of Norm, qualified for Boston in her first marathon, just qualified for 70.3 worlds, 6th in my AG at IMAZ in her first IM
- Jenna - MX12 teammate and consistently places on podiums
- Richard - local triathlete friend, Ironman All World Athlete, podium-finisher
- Steve - speedy runner/triathlete from the Twin Cities
And even more that I'm not mentioning here. When I compare myself to them, I feel unbearably slow.
I also know, however, that compared to others, I'm also faster than them. I try to amend my words, to when I say I'm slow, that I'm comparatively slow.
I wonder though, is this holding me back? Should I not say that I'm comparatively slow, but instead that I'm not as fast as I'd like to be? Or as fast as I could be?
I believe that this all ties into ...
The Fear of Success
I do believe I am afraid of success. I have been for YEARS. It is realistically why I'm stuck in my current job (essentially minimum wage slave, but I've been working there long enough that I'm in pseudo-management and definitely not making minimum wage anymore). This is partially because I don't like the spotlight, and success typically means the spotlight.
When a bit of success comes my way, I tend to downplay it. You've seen that here.
- Barkin' Dog Duathlon - My first ever podium. I justified it by saying I got lucky, that I didn't have to swim, that all the fast people did the long-course.
- SkirtSports 5K - Podium number two. Small race, all of the fast people must have done the half-marathon.
At the same time, just like almost every other triathlete, I dream about making it to Kona*. Realistically, if that happens, it'll be because I got lucky through the lottery or I raced enough to get a legacy spot, but why shouldn't I try for the qualification? I say it's because I'll never be a fast enough runner, or because my swim is such a disaster ... but is that negative thinking the biggest problem of all?
I know I am better than I think. I know there is potential in me that's waiting to be tapped (in more than just the athletic realm too, trust me). I know Nic sees it and I also know that Richard does. I see glimpses of it myself - the GtIS half where I pulled a half-way decent time out of my butt on little training (and an assist to gravity). The realistic notion that I feel with decent training, I could have pulled a sub-7 out on the Harvest Moon course despite it being fairly difficult. That I had a sub-7 (or at the very least, a PR/sub-7:30) until the lack of training caught up to me the same time a massive hill and headwind did.
The question then becomes, how do I (or anyone else facing this issue) fix this? Is it a mental block? Brandon says that in general, I get fairly decent and to a point of breaking through a wall, breaking through to that next step. I try to break through, maybe just a little, fail ... and then retreat back into the comfortable.
The comfortable IS enough. It allows me to race and to finish and to be healthy. We stress in our household that we ARE enough.
At the same time, I'd like to be more, too. The more intrigues me. The more terrifies me. To change the limits and push through the fear - that is what I need to do, to be not "slow" and to succeed.
I think that to do this, it is twofold:
1.) Change the mindset. Ironman terrified me as much as it excited me. I made it a mental game from the outset to a when not an if I crossed. It was never going to be a question. My conscious choice this year to embrace the hill on the bike has worked for the most point. I still don't like hills and climbing - as a bigger athlete, I probably never will - but I don't dread them and they don't mentally break me anymore. I do not need to say that I'm slow anymore. That I'm not that good. I need to say ... something else. Right now, I don't exactly know what will work, but I do know that I need to figure it out.
2.) Put in the work. I can change my thinking all I want, but if I don't put in the work, I'll never be able to back it up. In IMAZ training last year, the best point was when the work made me truly believe I could back up my when I cross claim. I've got plans for putting in the work next year - I won't reveal them yet - but I've already shared them with a few people. Some people say I/we'll fail; others can't wait to watch us succeed. I, for one, can't wait to see us succeed, either.
*Yes, despite all the bullshit surrounding WTC, and how much of a dick company they're turning out to be ... they've hooked me with this. I can't help it. I know I shouldn't want to feed the machine, but it's been so conditioned by this point. Damnit. It's exactly like my merch comment in one of my IMAZ posts.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Race #12 of the Season: Harvest Moon Long-Course Triathlon
As an aside before I start this thing ... I've raced 12 freaking times this season?! No wonder I'm ready for next year ...
I was smart for this race.
Unlike my three previous tris this year, I actually didn't stay up super honking late the night before. Well, later than I wanted, but not 11pm-late like most of the others.
I was worried for this race.
I knew I wasn't trained. I knew that going in. I am so thankful that Brandon ended up getting the race off because I don't know if I could have raced and made it across that finish line without him. Having him believe in me helped me believe in myself. Knowing he was there waiting to see me come back in off the bike helped me through the hellish hills and wind.
I had really no goals going in except sub-8. I was really hoping I could stubborn my through to a sub-8.
*************
Race morning, we woke up early and got ourselves ready to go. I felt a bit nervous that morning - nervous like TriRock morning, which wasn't good - so I actually took a probiotic to try to settle my stomach. We left the house at 5:30 - the res didn't open its gates until 6 - and sat in a line reminiscent to our first ever oly, RattleSnake back in 2010. This time, though, it wasn't because we showed up late-ish. We were fortunately able to be on the res road, but others weren't so lucky.
(looking back to the cars backed up over the horizon on Quincy.)
We parked, pumped up my tires and headed to get my chip before going into transition. I left Brandon on the outside to set up my spot. I then got body marked with my ominous number of DOOOOOOOOM.
Yes, I was number 666. Cracked out laughing when I saw it a few days prior.
We mostly hung out until it was time for me to get in my wetsuit and get in a warm-up swim. I sunscreened, but I only had 50 SPF with me as opposed to my usual 90 and/or 100. (Spoiler alert: this came back to haunt me big time.)
Artsy shot in front of the sunrise.
In the water, waiting for my wave to go off. I'm fifth from the left.
The Swim:
My wave was the second wave to go off. The swim was an out-and-back and the first half was fairly standard - put my head down and go. And sight often, because of course it was into the sun. Because the first leg of triathlon swims are ALWAYS into the sun.
Coming back, the wind started picking up and adding some chop to the water. It wasn't as bad as, say, what those at Cedar Point went through, but for someone who has never swam in chop? Not pretty. I got slapped in the face a lot by the water before I figured out that if I rotate more like I in theory should be doing anyway, I avoided the water in the face. This also helped me get less water up my nose, too.
(Underrated triathlon skill: hawking a loogie underwater.)
By the time the last few buoys came around, I said "screw it" when it came to sighting them and just used the swim-out arch to sight back. This made it more efficient except for it took me into the res police dock so I had to make a slight detour around it. Oops.
Working on getting out of the wetsuit.
Time: 54:10 (348th overall, 138th gender, 18th division)
T1:
Looking back at my lobstered self, I probably should have sunscreened, but otherwise, just in and out.
Time: 1:28 (24th overall, 4th gender, 2nd division)
The Bike:
The perk of such a race number like 666 is that it gets you a ton of comments. I have never gotten so many comments from people in a race. It was ... actually kind of awesome.
This bike course - or at least the part on Quincy - keeps you honest. It is pretty brutal. I felt pretty good for the first part of the bike. I hit 38.5 mph on the main downhill before the turnaround (the course was a loop but with a tiny out-and-back at the beginning).
After the turnaround, the loop started with a right on Watkins. That stretch felt great - it was also the stretch I saw Brandon again.
The whole time on Watkins I felt awesome. I tried not to push it too hard - my lack of endurance always on my mind - but since I felt good, I figured I may as well try to keep it going.
Cross over I-70, turn right on ... Colfax, I think? Still felt okay. I did get passed by some HUGE piece of farm/industrial equipment with tires bigger than I was. That was a little frightening. The road turned and on to Bennett/Kiowa Road. It got a little rougher as the miles went on and the lack of mileage in the legs became evident. At mile 31 ... I died. I spent the next few miles yelling at myself, telling myself that goddamnit you're a fucking fighter and you can get through this.
That worked for a few miles. I looked at my watch and realized I was still making good time and that the race might not be the disaster I thought it was.
Then I turned on Quincy. Into a headwind. Climbing up a monster hill.
I saw my average speed drop. I felt my legs give up. I had very little left in the tank. I kept turning my wheels over, trying to keep my cadence at a decent level, kept attempting high spirits. But it was hard. I was deep in the pain cave. The last 15 miles were absolute and utter hell.
The end of the bike couldn't come soon enough.
Back into transition.
Time: 3:35:35 (320th overall; 112th gender; 15th division)
T2:
I spent a bit of time sunscreening (not enough) and took the time to, well, try to attempt to BodyGlide my feet (with my melted, gooey BodyGlide).
Time: 2:56 (215th overall; 73rd gender; 12th division)
The Run:
I felt like crap coming out of transition. Brandon met me and offered to run with me a little while and ended up running the whole 13.1 miles which I appreciate so much.
The first half of the run was more walking than running. I felt awful and couldn't get my legs under me. I tried a banana, a bit of an Oreo and some clementines and eventually started to come around.
One of the times I managed to run.
Estimated first half time: 1:49
By the turn around, I was sick of being on the hot course and decided that we would neg split the course. From about mile 6.5 to mile 10, I was successful at this, and we chopped down the miles and actually started passing people.
At mile 10, though ... all the lack of endurance killed me. The final 5K was horrible. Brandon peeled off at mile 12 to beat me to the finish line for photos. But I neg split the back half (in about 1:30) and beat my Boulder 70.3 time from 2011.
Time: 3:19:00 (356th overall; 141st gender; 17th division)
Crossing the finish line.
Finish line slip 'n slide!
Overall Stats:
Time: 7:53:11
17/18 division (F30-34)
135/145 gender
351/363 overall
My swim was five minutes faster than 2011 and two minutes slower than 2013. Given the conditions and my lack of swim training, I am really happy with my 54 minute swim (also given that it includes the stupid run to transition).
T1 is naturally faster at Aurora ... but I was super shocked to see that I had the 24th fastest T1 time (out of 363). That made me really, really happy.
The bike was six minutes slower than 2011 and seven minutes faster than last year ... but last year's bike also had the flat, so who knows. If I had a few more long rides under my belt - in the 40-50 mile range - I might have actually had a better time on this arguably harder course.
T2 ... is a crapshoot given the different races.
The run was 21 minutes slower than 2013 and 44 seconds slower than 2011. The run is where my lack of endurance training really showed ... which sucks, because my running actually hasn't been that horrible this year.
All in all, it came to a race that was slower than 2013, but faster than 2011. I also think that, with proper training, I could actually probably manage a sub-7 on that course. Even with the hills and heat and wind. Will I go back to actually try it? Well, that's a different story ...
I was smart for this race.
Unlike my three previous tris this year, I actually didn't stay up super honking late the night before. Well, later than I wanted, but not 11pm-late like most of the others.
I was worried for this race.
I knew I wasn't trained. I knew that going in. I am so thankful that Brandon ended up getting the race off because I don't know if I could have raced and made it across that finish line without him. Having him believe in me helped me believe in myself. Knowing he was there waiting to see me come back in off the bike helped me through the hellish hills and wind.
I had really no goals going in except sub-8. I was really hoping I could stubborn my through to a sub-8.
*************
Race morning, we woke up early and got ourselves ready to go. I felt a bit nervous that morning - nervous like TriRock morning, which wasn't good - so I actually took a probiotic to try to settle my stomach. We left the house at 5:30 - the res didn't open its gates until 6 - and sat in a line reminiscent to our first ever oly, RattleSnake back in 2010. This time, though, it wasn't because we showed up late-ish. We were fortunately able to be on the res road, but others weren't so lucky.
(looking back to the cars backed up over the horizon on Quincy.)
We parked, pumped up my tires and headed to get my chip before going into transition. I left Brandon on the outside to set up my spot. I then got body marked with my ominous number of DOOOOOOOOM.
Yes, I was number 666. Cracked out laughing when I saw it a few days prior.
We mostly hung out until it was time for me to get in my wetsuit and get in a warm-up swim. I sunscreened, but I only had 50 SPF with me as opposed to my usual 90 and/or 100. (Spoiler alert: this came back to haunt me big time.)
Artsy shot in front of the sunrise.
In the water, waiting for my wave to go off. I'm fifth from the left.
The Swim:
My wave was the second wave to go off. The swim was an out-and-back and the first half was fairly standard - put my head down and go. And sight often, because of course it was into the sun. Because the first leg of triathlon swims are ALWAYS into the sun.
Coming back, the wind started picking up and adding some chop to the water. It wasn't as bad as, say, what those at Cedar Point went through, but for someone who has never swam in chop? Not pretty. I got slapped in the face a lot by the water before I figured out that if I rotate more like I in theory should be doing anyway, I avoided the water in the face. This also helped me get less water up my nose, too.
(Underrated triathlon skill: hawking a loogie underwater.)
By the time the last few buoys came around, I said "screw it" when it came to sighting them and just used the swim-out arch to sight back. This made it more efficient except for it took me into the res police dock so I had to make a slight detour around it. Oops.
Working on getting out of the wetsuit.
Time: 54:10 (348th overall, 138th gender, 18th division)
T1:
Looking back at my lobstered self, I probably should have sunscreened, but otherwise, just in and out.
Time: 1:28 (24th overall, 4th gender, 2nd division)
The Bike:
The perk of such a race number like 666 is that it gets you a ton of comments. I have never gotten so many comments from people in a race. It was ... actually kind of awesome.
This bike course - or at least the part on Quincy - keeps you honest. It is pretty brutal. I felt pretty good for the first part of the bike. I hit 38.5 mph on the main downhill before the turnaround (the course was a loop but with a tiny out-and-back at the beginning).
After the turnaround, the loop started with a right on Watkins. That stretch felt great - it was also the stretch I saw Brandon again.
The whole time on Watkins I felt awesome. I tried not to push it too hard - my lack of endurance always on my mind - but since I felt good, I figured I may as well try to keep it going.
Cross over I-70, turn right on ... Colfax, I think? Still felt okay. I did get passed by some HUGE piece of farm/industrial equipment with tires bigger than I was. That was a little frightening. The road turned and on to Bennett/Kiowa Road. It got a little rougher as the miles went on and the lack of mileage in the legs became evident. At mile 31 ... I died. I spent the next few miles yelling at myself, telling myself that goddamnit you're a fucking fighter and you can get through this.
That worked for a few miles. I looked at my watch and realized I was still making good time and that the race might not be the disaster I thought it was.
Then I turned on Quincy. Into a headwind. Climbing up a monster hill.
I saw my average speed drop. I felt my legs give up. I had very little left in the tank. I kept turning my wheels over, trying to keep my cadence at a decent level, kept attempting high spirits. But it was hard. I was deep in the pain cave. The last 15 miles were absolute and utter hell.
The end of the bike couldn't come soon enough.
Back into transition.
Time: 3:35:35 (320th overall; 112th gender; 15th division)
T2:
I spent a bit of time sunscreening (not enough) and took the time to, well, try to attempt to BodyGlide my feet (with my melted, gooey BodyGlide).
Time: 2:56 (215th overall; 73rd gender; 12th division)
The Run:
I felt like crap coming out of transition. Brandon met me and offered to run with me a little while and ended up running the whole 13.1 miles which I appreciate so much.
The first half of the run was more walking than running. I felt awful and couldn't get my legs under me. I tried a banana, a bit of an Oreo and some clementines and eventually started to come around.
One of the times I managed to run.
Estimated first half time: 1:49
By the turn around, I was sick of being on the hot course and decided that we would neg split the course. From about mile 6.5 to mile 10, I was successful at this, and we chopped down the miles and actually started passing people.
At mile 10, though ... all the lack of endurance killed me. The final 5K was horrible. Brandon peeled off at mile 12 to beat me to the finish line for photos. But I neg split the back half (in about 1:30) and beat my Boulder 70.3 time from 2011.
Time: 3:19:00 (356th overall; 141st gender; 17th division)
Crossing the finish line.
Finish line slip 'n slide!
Overall Stats:
Time: 7:53:11
17/18 division (F30-34)
135/145 gender
351/363 overall
My swim was five minutes faster than 2011 and two minutes slower than 2013. Given the conditions and my lack of swim training, I am really happy with my 54 minute swim (also given that it includes the stupid run to transition).
T1 is naturally faster at Aurora ... but I was super shocked to see that I had the 24th fastest T1 time (out of 363). That made me really, really happy.
The bike was six minutes slower than 2011 and seven minutes faster than last year ... but last year's bike also had the flat, so who knows. If I had a few more long rides under my belt - in the 40-50 mile range - I might have actually had a better time on this arguably harder course.
T2 ... is a crapshoot given the different races.
The run was 21 minutes slower than 2013 and 44 seconds slower than 2011. The run is where my lack of endurance training really showed ... which sucks, because my running actually hasn't been that horrible this year.
All in all, it came to a race that was slower than 2013, but faster than 2011. I also think that, with proper training, I could actually probably manage a sub-7 on that course. Even with the hills and heat and wind. Will I go back to actually try it? Well, that's a different story ...
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