Second Time Around

A week out from Steelhead 70.3, Aug. 19, in Benton Harbor, Mich., and I have a lot on my mind.  I had originally written this blog as a top 10 list, but it just wasn't working for me. So here are a few general observations, followed by the swim-bike-run specifics. Race day was well organized, which is as you would expect considering how much an Ironman-brand race costs. The day before, however, told a different story.
Signs leading us to the race site on Saturday proved inadequate, but once we got there, our frustration became borderline disgust. It seemed that every time we approached the parking lot so I could drop off my bike, the parking police (I use that term loosely) told us there was no room at the inn. We tried three times, and just missed the open spots. Just down the street the Boy Scouts were making $10 each time someone parked in their designated lot. Sorry, but I have a real problem with the Boy Scouts, and their no-gays-allowed 1950s stance; we refused to pay them. And naturally once we did park and I walked my bike to the transition area, plenty of parking spaces were open near the lake. The frustration was so unnecessary. And I know it seems petty, but when you're mentally preparing yourself for the difficulty of a half-ironman, the last thing that should slip you up is parking.
Now, for race day:
The Swim. In 2011, this race became a duathlon because the chop in Lake Michigan was too risky to the athletes. That was my biggest concern for race day. But the Great Lake looked calm, and blue, and so inviting (at least what I could see before the sun came up!). This is an unusual race because the transition area sits in between two lakeside parks. Depending on the lake current that day, athletes either walk 1.2 miles south of transition or 1.2 miles north and then swim back. Jokes abounded during the walk that we should get credit for that distance, or call this a 71.5 rather than a 70.3. Yeah, triathletes are a witty lot. Except for the walrus/swimmer who had no concept of swimming straight, this leg went extremely well for me. Once I lost the walrus about halfway through it was clear sailing, and I came out of the water with many in my swim wave (wearing yellow caps) still freestyling. Yes! My time was no faster than in the Syracuse 70.3, but I felt calmer and more confident. Now that I enjoy the swim, I can begin to work on speed in the water.

Many yellow caps behind me.

The Bike. My worst event of the three, and I'm starting to think it's because of the equipment. It seemed like I got passed by 1,000 athletes while I was out there. I was feeling pretty demoralized about that--holding back tears--but I looked at my Cat-Eye and realized I was ahead of the pace I had wanted to achieve. Plus, I reminded myself that as one of the first swimmers in and out of the water, stronger cyclists were bound to catch me. But why so many??? The dreadful road conditions didn't help--Michigan is even more hard-up than New York, and it shows in how they "repair" their roads. It got so bad that I had to use the portapotty at about mile 30--my bladder couldn't take any more. That cost me 5 minutes, but I still finished the bike faster than I had in the Syracuse race.
The Run. My favorite (and at one time my best) leg. Just like in my first half-ironman, I vowed to keep moving forward, "one foot ahead of the other," and never walk; never. I didn't care if it took 2-1/2 hours, as long as I didn't walk. Well, it didn't take that long, and I didn't walk. I enjoy the run for many reasons, but it's always nice to talk to others as you go--you hear people's stories, hear where they're from, if this is the first, or 10th, such event. Then you blast by them, after telling them to finish strong (he-he). Hey, I can't squelch my competitive nature. I really enjoy the run because I can always blow by some woman who kicked my butt on the bike. It never fails to feel good!
Because I was pokier on the run than my first 70.3, I finished this race 10 minutes slower. Had I not stopped on the bike, it would have been 5 minutes.
No complaints. It was terrific having a small portion of my large family there to cheer me on. I thank them for standing for hours waiting for me to finish, feeding me, encouraging me and keeping me going. My sister has always been good at popping up where you least expect her, and she didn't disappoint this time--I saw her on the bike and at several points on the run.
I desperately need to work on my biking, and I this off-season I plan to build even more leg strength, and win the lottery so I can buy  a new bike.
My next race: Escape From the Judge, 1-mile open water swim in Skaneateles Lake, Sept. 2. That should be interesting.

Delta Lake Observations

I completed my one and only Olympic-distance triathlon yesterday, July 29 (it's fast becoming my favorite distance). What a beautiful day: The lake was calm, the sky blue, the temperature moderate. I really enjoy this race, and was pleased to finish in just under 3 hours, 5 minutes, despite feeling nauseated for a good deal of the run. I'm thinking that's because the much-ballyhooed peanut butter GU I sucked down in the first mile of the run was not the best choice.

Anyway, here are my observations, positive and negative, about this race, put on by Mike Brych and his ATCEndurance company.

The good:

Excellent volunteer support, and excellently supportive volunteers. Hearing people you don't know telling you how strong and great you look (when you feel completely the opposite, and on the third and final loop of the run) is incredibly encouraging. I especially enjoyed the woman at the bike turnaround who ran with each of us to hand off water; that was quite skillful!

A lovely venue. I especially enjoy the swim here, as Delta Lake is clean and calm. Mike told us to look out for weeds at the far buoy, and was he ever right! Ah, the perils of open water swimming.

Incredibly quick results posting. Score-This knows what they're doing. By the time we got home from the venue, the results were already on line, complete and accurate. Wish I could say the same for some other timing companies in the area.

As a digression--there are many aspects of triathlon that keep me competing (I'm now in my fourth year), but this is the greatest of them: support from fellow athletes, especially woman-to-woman. Hearing "great job," "good work," "keep it up" from complete strangers is so empowering, and it encourages me to say the same in return. My favorite moment yesterday came from a woman younger than I, passing me with about 200 meters left on the run, who turned to say, "Looking strong, Mama." I loved it!


The not-so-good:

Follow those big green buoys out there in the water.

Post-race food organizers: Please don't let everyone take the yummy yogurt at the end of the sprint race. I was left with plain and mango--ewwww. Also, a banana would have been so nice to eat.

As for hydration, there was plenty of cold water along the run course, but I think some electrolyte solution should have been out there as well. I'm wondering if that would have helped the way I was feeling. Of course, I should learn to carry my own hydration on the run (like I do on the bike).

Transition needs to be tighter, by that I mean that people need to move their crap out of the way. Set up your area, and then move along. Nothing worse than coming back from cycling to have someone's running shoes or wetsuit in the way as you change shoes (and mental gears).

I was so very annoyed at two continuing situations on the bike course: people who didn't announce "on your left" (it got so ridiculous at one point that I nearly clipped a guy who was passing me, though I didn't know it, as I steered out to avoid a sewer grate; imagine the mess had we bumped), and those who passed on the right. Are you kidding me?! If you're not going to follow the rules, get the hell out of the sport. I know I tend to be militaristic about this, but rules are set up for the safety of all. Passing on the right is just plain stupid. Do it right, or don't bother doing it all. End of sermon.

Next race: Lyme Sprint Triathlon, Aug. 5, in Chaumont, a lovely bay off Lake Ontario.


 

Run Along the River

Recovering from foot surgery continues to be the most difficult thing I have ever done; with every encouraging sign comes a number of disappointments. What's more, I can't predict from race to race what the foot will throw at me, so to speak. It's quite the guessing game. I could give up, but that'll never happen.

On July 21 I ran a 10K in Cape Vincent, which took us runners out of the tiny village west to Tibbetts Point Lighthouse, on a road that parallels the source of the St. Lawrence River. Boats large and small accompanied us, and the ever-rotating windmills of Wolfe Island hinted at the Canadian delights found just beyond in Kingston (one of my favorite places). The wind was both cooling and distracting, especially as it served to roil the waves into an odor similar to the west side of Onondaga Lake. There was no escaping the stench.

Unfortunately, it did not help me run any faster.

This is right before I tossed the Gatorade bottle.

While I hit the turnaround at about 27 minutes, my speed left me near mile 4 and I struggled to force myself to keep running; had I walked I'd still be mad about it. I am in no way proud of my finishing time, but I am trying to take solace in the fact that I did finish. (Notwithstanding that I threw a bottle of Gatorade in anger after the announcer told me my time, surprising both myself and my husband (we were surprised about the anger, not the time).)
So that's the not-so-good news part.

Now for the better news:
1. My foot did not hurt. The spot on top where the doctor inserted hardware to keep the bones together did not pain me for the first time since I started running again. Neither did the arch of the left foot, nor the arthritic big toe. I am very pleased about this development. It was that very foot pain that distracted me to a terrible finish in the Cazenovia 10-miler on July 4. I hope, hope, hope this is it for that issue. It's been so inconsistent and unpredictable.

2. I ran 6.2 miles in difficult conditions--hot and humid. I stayed hydrated, slowed down if I felt I had to (even though I knew it could lead to a disappointing finish time). Still, I managed to average an under-10-minutes/mile pace. My big triathlon is less than a month away in Michigan. Ever been to the Midwest in August? You think it's been hot and humid in Central New York this summer? Try every summer in Western Michigan. Those are the two reasons I signed up for yesterday's race in the first place--to try to cover the distance in less than an hour (the half-Ironman is twice that distance, and I'm aiming to finish it in 2 hours) and to continue to acclimate to unrelenting heat. I succeeded on both counts.

I have a few observations about this race. The T-shirt is way cool--fluorescent green with a blue rendition of the lighthouse and the name printed above the heart. Minimal and tasteful. I really enjoyed the scenery, even if my olfactory nerve was pushed to its limit. Plenty of water stations throughout, and really friendly folks (loved the hose at mile 6).

Now, for the negative--no chip timing. The timing wasn't the real issue for me; it was that it took the race director far too long to figure out the results for the relative handful of runners who participated. We didn't stick around, and for a very good reason (another negative)--there was no food. I was told that orange slices were at the finish line, but greedy 5K runners must have taken them all. There is absolutely no excuse for a race to run out of food. None! Hold some of the slices back for the 10K runners. I was not at all happy about this. Yet they had a keg of beer. Nothing against my beer-drinking buddies but it's not how I choose to refuel after a race. Call me a grump, but running out of food was not cool.

Will I do this race again? Highly unlikely. It was a bit of a drive for the distance, and the race amenities were sorely lacking. But, as with every race I run, I learned a little more about myself, my willpower and my poor, unlucky feet.

Next up: Delta Lake Olympic Triathlon, Sunday, July 29. I doubt I can best last year's time of 2:59.37, but you never know. It's all up to the foot.

Weekend Update

With the plethora of races available in Central New York, I had no trouble finding two competitions for Saturday and Sunday, June 16 and 17. First up was Tri-Oswego, a second-year race that features both a sprint and an intermediate distance. I selected the sprint--800 meter swim, 15.5 mile bike, 3.1 mile run.

I enjoyed this race immensely--the swag was impressive (a transition towel? love it!), volunteers were plentiful, smiling and encouraging, and the bike course was well-monitored for traffic. I do wish the miles had been marked on both the bike and the run, however. Oh, and the food afterwards? Really nice--especially the fresh fruit salad. I heard the next day that the swim and run were both longer than advertised, which would explain my "slower" times.

Heading out for the run.

It's no big deal, really, but it would be nice to know that my slower swim can be attributed to a course that was longer than 800 meters. Finishing third in my age group was a wonderful Sunday morning surprise as well (we didn't stick around to find out, since I have only once before placed in my age group). I'll put this race down as a definite-maybe to consider for 2013, and probably at the longer distance.

Sunday, Father's Day, dawned hotter and brighter than the day before (the clouds of Saturday helped keep the athletes going for sure). The run I had signed up for, Mike Caruana Father's Day 5K, was in Fulton, a mere 17 miles away. So the plan was to bike there, run and bike home. Apparently, Saturday really wore me out because I woke up too late to execute that plan.

Oddly, I also left in the car later than I would have wanted, so I felt a bit rushed to get my race number, stretch, warm up, hit the bathroom one last time and head to the start. Something had to go, and it was my stretching routine. I did some dynamic stretching, but nothing on my back. Now, I have read that static stretches do nothing for improving the run. I have doubted this, but limited time forced me to do standing stretches only. And I ran a terrific race, considering where I am in my rebuilding year, and the fact that I had competed hard just 24 hours earlier. So maybe there's something to that stretching advice after all.

This race course is not an easy one, but I hit the first mile at 8:20 (not bad!). All told, I crossed the finish line in 27:01, good for an 8:43 pace. Can you say thrilled?!

A hot time in Fulton!

So for my fun, exhausting, weekend I got two medals, which I proudly hung from the new display rack my husband gave me for my birthday. He's so supportive of my efforts, and understands my ups and downs (and frustrations with my feet). Giving me another rack was his subtle way of displaying his continuing support without being pushy--the other rack was too full, and he fully expects that I'll earn more medals. But he would never say that; he's more a man of action.


Next up: Runapalooza, Fleet Feet's new race, a 5K on June 30. Then a few more road races until my next triathlon, Delta Lake Olympic, July 29.

Unreasonable Doubt

OK, I look at the calendar and I am 10 weeks out from my half-ironman and I'm starting to panic. There is no way, I think, that I can get in all the training I need to do! I don't have time! I haven't even topped 11 miles in a run yet! I need to bike 56 miles twice before the race!
Is this what all of us go through? Perhaps this is the point where a coach would be a good investment--that or a sports psychologist!
Even though I have used the training plans on beginnertriathlete.com, my mind is telling me that I am no longer a beginner, that I need to bump up to intermediate status. And even though that excellent website has intermediate plans, I looked elsewhere this morning.
But here's the thing--when I look at the plan I found and printed from trinewbies.com (not an intermediate site, I just realized), that training doesn't seem like enough! I'm doing way more than it prescribes! Oh, dear; now I'm really confused!!!
I don't train technically--no heart rate monitors, no zone 1/2/3/4 stuff (I don't even know what that means)--I just go out and swim, bike and run! In fact, I didn't even own a pair of bike shoes and clipless pedals until a month ago. My bike is an Internet special--$500 delivered and "90% assembled." Thank goodness I have a handy, patient husband, because it arrived more like 10% assembled. I never could have put that bike together myself. Would I like a $2,000 bike? To quote Sarah Palin, "You betcha!" Can I, in good conscience, purchase a $2,000 bike? What do you think?

My sweet little bike. She still needs a name. . .

I am in no way complaining about my equipment. We have built up my triathlon arsenal piece-by-piece, purchasing most items in the off season so they're a bit less expensive, and my husband is great at trolling websites to find free shipping (and free return shipping, which came in handy for the first XS wetsuit we bought that fit more like XXXXS). I buy my swimsuits on clearance, or with my USA Triathlon 20% discount. I hoard the swim caps they give us at races like a squirrel with her nuts.
I guess I'm just feeling like I can always do more, always have better equipment, always squeeze in a workout (even if it's not part of the plan). Is this how all of us triathletes feel? Or am I just especially neurotic?