Swimming, biking, and running in Sonoma - Vineman 70.3 Race Recap

So, I can't really believe that Vineman is over (almost a week ago!) - after hunkering down in June and trying to focus on what was to me a 'big event', I'm on the other side, thinking that it wasn't THAT big of a deal.  Easier to say that now than a week ago!

Pre-Race: 
We arrived in Sonoma on Saturday, and all the nervous excitement that I hadn't felt throughout the week suddenly spilled over, especially when we arrived in Guerneville and I saw all these intense athletes biking and looking much more competent than I on their much nicer bikes.  At that point, I decided to focus on my breathing and on not throwing up for the rest of the day!  Since I was coming to the race totally cold - no prior knowledge of anything - it seemed like a good idea to drive the bike course, at the very least, before checking in and all of that fun stuff.  We slowly made our way from Guerneville to Windsor High School, winding through vineyards and up and down hills, feeling the bumps and turns in the road along the way.  I kept thinking "Hmm, this seems like a long way to bike!" and finally Michael just came out and said it.  I refused to freak out, reminding myself that I had survived this distance last year and obviously I enjoyed the experience enough since I signed up for a race of the same distance again.  Or I was just crazy and a glutton for punishment (also possible).

Race day preparations and other provisions

My official 'gear' for the day

And the race:
Despite a less-than-stellar night's sleep and some pre-race anxiety, I was excited for the day to start, and while I kept thinking about what I *should* have done to better prepare, I also felt hopeful that I would have a solid (for me) performance out there.  The early start time for my age group definitely favored a good outcome or, at the very least, survival, and so did the weather, which looked to be chilly throughout the morning but warm by the time I got to the run.  It seemed to be just a quick moment, really, between the time that I set up my gear and the time that I needed to be on the beach, heading into the water.  As my wave was allowed in the water, I reached down and realized that I didn't have my timing chip - HOLY CRAP!  I almost started to freak out and to cry.  Instead, I went to the official table right by the start line, told them that I forgot my chip, and they had a new one for me within a minute - so I was in the water with my wave.  Shew - that could have been a total clusterfuck if I hadn't realized that I had forgotten the chip.  Fortunately, the waves were 6 minutes apart, so even with that little snafu, I had plenty of time to get comfortable in the water before my wave was officially off and swimming!  And despite a serious lack of open-water swims this 'season', it went well.  I was relaxed throughout the swim, even after my timing chip issue, probably because there seemed to be very little body contact.  I felt like I was in the second half of my wave, but I decided that I couldn't worry about that too much - I just wanted to have a fairly strong and even swim which seemed to be the case, breathing easily and moving well through the water.  Swimming in the Russian River was awesome!

Body marked and ready to go!

The swim start!

Exiting the swim, finding my stuff in transition, taking note that my bike wasn't the last one there, and getting ready for the next leg seemed to take forever.  I didn't look at the time when I made it to my bike, so I wasn't sure how long my swim or transition took.  It was still really chilly and I longed to put on my arm-warmers, but I didn't want to waste any more time in transition than I had to (it still took me FOREVER).  I stuffed all my crap into the official plastic bag that they had given us and then I stuffed that bag into my transition backpack to give to Michael as I exited the transition area.  I opted for the hand-off so that I wouldn't have to worry about all of my stuff making it to T2 - obviously I didn't have much faith in myself or in the Vineman organization.  This cost me some time, but I could live with it.  After handing Michael my pack, I walked my bike up the small hill and mounted then - that was a race-day decision, based on a conversation I overheard between these two guys, one of whom said to the other 'No way would I try to mount at the base of the hill'.  Maybe I could have managed the hill, but I'm usually so awkward as I try to mount the bike, that I probably would have fallen just getting ON the damn bike.  Therefore, walk the hill it was.  And then I was off to enjoy 56 miles of biking!

The long walk with the bike...

Still walking uphill!

I don't even remember too many specific details about the bike except that there were scattered moments when I looked up, took in where I was (vineyards, rolling hills, quaint towns, more vineyards), and reminded myself of how fortunate I was.  I also prayed to the triathlon gods that the flat tire I had on my last 'training' ride would somehow safeguard me from a flat tire on the course.  And there were other moments when I cursed myself and the decision that I had made to participate in this event.  By the time I hit some of the landmarks that I remembered from Saturday's drive-thru, I felt pretty confident that I would finish the bike feeling strong, albeit somewhat slow, and when I started to feel negative, I countered those thoughts by saying to myself "Shut up legs" (which I stole from Jens Voigt).  Probably the final few miles were the worst, just because they weren't that scenic but still had plenty of bumps and I was at the "I-want-to-be-off-the-bike" point.  I was so happy when I saw Michael towards the very end - well, he yelled at me or I probably wouldn't have seen him - and when I hit the final stretch, making the turn that marked the way to the dismount.

Biking in and...

Running out - plenty of energy in the legs at this point!

Yes!  Off the bike and on to the run!  Like T1, getting to my pile of stuff seemed to take a very long time.  I thanked the person who had tied a pink feather to the part of the rack where I had stashed my run gear because it would have probably taken me an additional 5 minutes to locate it if I hadn't spotted the feather.  Bike racked, shoes exchanged, helmet off and hat on, I grabbed nutrition for the run and was off.  As I headed towards the run start, I realized that I had not grabbed my salt tablets and decided not to return for them.  Maybe a mistake, maybe they wouldn't have made much of a difference, who knows at this point?

At any rate, I started the run with a great pace but I tried to force myself to slow down.  My goal for the run was to negative split - hold the first part of the race at around 9:00 minute miles and then speed up at the end.  Well, that plan did not work out for me - live and learn.  I held a strong pace for first half, some of which I ran with an acquaintance from Cal Tri.  It was REALLY nice to see a familiar face out there, and he was super nice to slow down and run with me for a bit.  He also warned me about one of the bigger hills along the run which I appreciated.  So, a great first half for the run, but then mile 7 came along, and I started to seriously dog it!  My body was aching.  Also, I took in water, gatorade and 'cola' at the aid stations and tried to eat chips and fruit, but had a hard time with food - could not manage most of the fuel that I had stuffed into my pockets.  My pace slowed way down, especially at mile 9, but I kept running along, even though sometimes it seemed like a shuffle.  When I hit mile 11, I told myself that I could do anything for two miles and was determined to pick up the pace.  And then mile 12 - I was ecstatic!  My overall pace had totally dropped from the first half, but I wanted to end with a bit of pep.  It helped that I saw Michael and lifted my head up to smile, and then, almost at the end, there was a woman with a 40 (or 41 or 42) on her calf, so I pushed myself to pass her.  Finally, I came up on the finish line and saw that I could slip in just before the clock turned over to the next minute.  It wasn't a pretty finish nor did it lend itself to a good photo, but I was oh so happy, especially when I looked at the time and knew that I had a PR by almost 10 minutes on a more challenging course than Boulder!

That's either a smile at the end or I'm gritting my teeth in pain.

Post-race:
I felt pretty out of it at that point - kind of deliriously happy and exhausted at once -  but was able to get some food and sit and eat a few bites of pasta and some chicken and fruit.  I should have just had a huge plateful of oranges, they tasted so good!  Once I felt a bit less dazed, I met up with Michael, gathered my stuff in transition, and we walked to the car, surrounded by other people who had endured a day of fun and/or suffering, personal triumph or frustration (or some of both) and by the people who supported them.  By 2:30 pm, we were sitting in the Bear Republic Brewpub in Healdsburg, splitting a burger, fries and drinking beer (which we did not split!).  I think that at that point I was truly happy with and grateful for the entire experience - being in Sonoma, racing in such a beautiful place, having a good race, being lucky that Michael comes along for the ride, and stuffing my face in a blissful post-race stupor.  Life couldn't have been much better at that moment!

A few final thoughts and the numbers:
Compared to my first foray into the 70.3 distance when I had zero expectations and knew that just finishing would be a personal accomplishment, I felt a bit more nervous about meeting the expectations that I had set for myself for this race.  While my training wasn't perfect by any means, I had worked hard, especially throughout June, and I hoped for a PR.  Who doesn't?  I thought that a PR would be possible, but I also knew that shit could go wrong, so I tried to keep some of my hopes and expectations in check.  I also recognized that there were some key steps that I had omitted - not previewing the course and things like that - which could  possibly cost me in a major way.

Ultimately, I raced well for myself, in part because of almost ideal race day conditions.  I finally had a sub-40 swim.  I would have loved for an even faster leg (duh) but no complaints.  I knew that the bike course would be a challenge, not necessarily because of the hills but more because of the less-than-great roads in some parts.  My dream goal was sub-3:10, but I knew that I would be happy with something around 3:15.  I ended with 3:17 and some change, holding a 17 mph pace for the course (17.2 for the first half; 16.9 for the second - I'm happy with the consistency there; it's still slow, but I'm getting faster incrementally).  The run was NOT consistent - I ran an 8:24 pace for the first half, which then slowed to something like a 9:36 pace for the second half.  Oops!  Talking to other people, that seemed to be the trend, and I still hit my goal, running a sub-2 hour half-marathon on a somewhat hilly course.  Overall, I was happy with my swim/bike/run performance!

As I said before, I had some really negative thoughts while I was on the course, especially the bike, and I think that I have a lot to learn about 'racing' this distance.  Fortunately, these dark thoughts didn't seem to affect me too much overall, even though I told myself that I was an idiot for being out there and that this whole triathlon thing must be a mid-life crisis and that this would probably be my last race ever (seriously, I said that to myself at one point).  I wish I could say that I was positive throughout, but that was not the case!  Maybe next time?   Also, I think that I could have / should have stayed more on top of my nutrition.  Perhaps some of the negative thoughts were a product of hunger?  While a slower second-half run was the trend, I think that I could have pushed a bit more if I had felt less depleted out there.  Live and learn - fueling and nutrition may be the "fourth leg" of this triathlon business for me, especially on longer courses.  At the same time, I also know that I pushed myself a bit more than I did last year, so maybe I need to get used to what that feels like for longer periods of time.

Finally, on a somewhat serious and somewhat silly note, I love my smash kit.  It's kind of obnoxious (I think), and I can't believe that I paid the amount of money for it that I did.  However, it is really comfortable, doesn't chafe, and lots of people complimented me on it throughout the day, even a young, cute 27-year-old-guy who zoomed past me on the run.  I did learn something very important about tri suits - once you are away from the tri community, wearing a tri suit in public is a definite no-no, even if you are just running into McDonalds to change so that you can look more presentable elsewhere.  Talk about weird looks and raised eyebrows!

This was a painfully long recap, but so was the race!  I am now enjoying some R&R in Boulder, CO and contemplating my next move...

Wildflower 2013: And the third time is NOT a charm

So, I was somewhat ambivalent when I signed up for this race back in January, but when I finally embraced it the idea, I did it thinking that this would be my third and final Wildflower Olympic race and I hoped that it would be this "epic" experience.  HA!  What is funny about this race is that I seem to forget, every year, even though I have a record of last year's experience and the previous year, how fucking hard it is.  And there seems to be something every year to make it a challenge.  Last year, the heat.  This year, the wind - OMG - the wind!  Oh, Wildflower, you never fail to be amazing and heart-breakingly disappointing at the same time!

Before I spew too much negativity about the race and my sucky performance, I'll say that it was great to get away.  As we left Saturday afternoon, I felt as though I was leaving a load of stress behind.  I turned off the phone, and we settled in for an easy drive to Paso Robles where we had a great dinner and a low-key night.  We woke up Sunday morning and headed to Lake San Antonio.  Yes, I really should camp one of these days, since that is, supposedly, part of the 'essential' Wildflower experience, but for now, I kind of enjoy not dealing with a tent and camp food while also stressing out about racing, to be totally honest.

In addition to the course being a bitch, the weather comes into play in one way or another, usually in the form of heat.  I knew that the weather forecast called for wind and possibly rain, neither of which made me feel happy or confident, but I thought that I would at least have a good run.  Also, it would be a better spectator experience for Michael who spends most of his time in search of scarce shade.  We arrived earlier than usual so that I could pick up my packet and all of that jazz.  It seemed as though I had everything in my backpack, so I headed down the hill on my bike, a trip that was an experience in itself as some guy crashed on the way to transition and there were several emergency vehicles that I had to weave around.  He was bleeding, but I heard him say that he wanted to race.  That didn't exactly settle my nerves which had started to kick in.  Once I picked up the packet, it was time to head to transition - wow, it finally felt real!  I don't think I'll ever get over seeing the lake and the huge transition area, even if I continue to do this race until I'm a little old lady.

So, I set up my transition, got body-marked and then spent the next few hours trying to stay calm, hydrated and watching other waves start.  We went back up to the car and then waited, waited, and waited some more.  I kept thinking, "10:40 is a very late start".   Plenty of time for pictures, apparently.

(I've no idea why they body-mark the hands, but it made it convenient getting in and out of transition because the rest of me was covered up - it was chilly out!)

And the transition area, where my bike was literally blowing in the wind on the rack.  That did not make me feel very confident.

After watching the first waves start and waiting around and watching some more, I suited up around 10:00 am and was ready to hit the water.  Or so I thought...  Let's just say that the smile didn't last too long in the water.

Okay, I'll cut to the chase - the race.  The swim was a soul crushing experience.  It was the roughest one I've ever experienced, even compared to the handful of ocean swims I've done.  Not only was it rough because of the conditions, which almost made me throw up (no joking), but I couldn't, or didn't, sight for shit, so I definitely lost some time as I tried to correct myself at least twice.  Also, the body contact really bothered me this time around.  As shitty as the swim was for me (five minutes slower than last year), I was thankful that it wasn't my first tri swim.  If that had been the case, I would probably have never done another race again.  Pathetic, I know, but it took some people OVER AN HOUR to swim 1500 meters.  

Here's proof that I survived the swim!  

I was so thankful to be out of the water that I didn't even think about what the wind might mean for the bike.  I didn't even think about the bike, I actually wanted to DNF right then and there.  Yes, I admit it - I wanted to quit.  The only reason that I went and got on my bike was that I couldn't leave the park until 3:00 pm anyway, so I'd be sitting around feeling like a loser for hours.  I figured that I might as well be biking and running to distract me from the fact that I'm a loser.  

So, I hauled myself onto the bike and headed up the first hill which was definitely harder than I remembered, a recurring theme throughout this entire race!  I'm pathetically slow on the bike but in the past I've enjoyed the course because it's beautiful and fun.  The wind, however, presented an additional challenge - partly because I had a death grip on the bike which meant that I could barely take in nutrition because I was afraid that I'd lose control and totally crash.  And partly because it just slowed us way down.  Most of my thoughts throughout the bike ride were pretty negative - along the lines of "last time ever", "fuck this" and "I hate myself".  I finally inched close to the transition area and gave Michael a wave or a smile.  Or I was just gritting my teeth.

 If I hadn't hated the ride so much, I would have felt quite disappointed about my time, but, like the swim, I was just glad to have the leg over.  And so it was on to the run.  I was determined that, at the very least, I would have a good run.  And I did - for me, it was amazing!  I knew that the cooler temperatures would help, but I was a bit concerned about the nutrition or lack of nutrition on the bike (it wasn't terrible, but definitely not great).  I was fairly conservative the first few miles, but once I made it up the hardest hill (somewhere in mile 3, I think?), I knew that I could pick it up.  I hoped to go sub 53:00 for the run if I didn't blow up. 

I realize that I look slower than the guy behind me, who was in a relay, but I ended up smoking him at the end.  I was kind of excited about that.  The girl behind him, however, kicked my ass at the end, but she was in a younger age group and had started the race earlier than I, so I didn't care.  Again, it's the little things...

I ended up with a sub 52:00 run which was great for me - while not entirely canceling out my struggles everywhere else, it put a positive spin on the day.  I felt damn happy when they put the medal around my neck.  I was, however, fairly incensed that they had run out of pasta as a post-race food/snack.  At that moment, I went back to cursing the entire day.  What the hell?  I know that I'm slow, but I wasn't dead last in my heat and not on the course - there were plenty of people still out there.  And don't we slow people deserve pasta just as much as the people who are winning the race?  Or deserve it even more?!  

Somehow Michael found me at the finish line chaos and surprised me with this shot.  It's a nice mish-mash of people in various forms of layers and undress.

I finished the race content that I survived the swim and bike and pulled off a decent run.  Talk about lowering expectations!  I went to Wildflower aiming for a course PR, a goal that I totally failed by a whopping four minutes.  A massive, epic fail.  One would think that this would upset me, and even I expected to curse myself the entire 4 hours back to LA (or Pasadena), but somehow I felt okay about the experience, even better than last year when I did end up improving.  One of these days, I would like to feel really good about my performance at this event, but this was not the year.  And maybe there never will be a year when I don't critique every aspect of the race, with the exception of the magical first year when I was a bumbling idiot and just happy to finish.  But, even after promising myself that this would be IT, the last time, I'll probably sign up again next year, drag myself to the start line and then complain about the entire experience. 

So, final thoughts on Wildflower:

- It really is harder than I expect.  Every damn year. 

- I felt pretty silly wearing a new kit that is totally obnoxious. 

- I need to commit to training with the local tri club instead of just running once a week and doing volunteer stuff with the group. 

- I'm never going to improve on the bike unless I spend more time on it with fast people. 

- Medals are stupid, but I wanted to wear this medal on Monday morning. 

- This was not the ideal way to celebrate 5 de mayo (a fake holiday at any rate, but still..).

Malibu Tri: The race that was!

Well, after all of my grunching, groaning, moaning, hesitation and regret over *having* to swim, bike and run yesterday morning, it ended up being a pretty awesome day, and I couldn't be happier that I ended my 2012 'season' there.  It's funny that I felt pretty calm and low-stress about the race on Friday night, sleeping amazingly well at the lovely Motel 6 and feeling energetic when the alarm rang at 4:00 am.  Maybe my devil-may-care attitude had something to do with that?

It was a pretty early morning for us, but not as early as if we'd spent the night at home, and I did appreciate the extra hour or so of sleep.  All of the race information warned us about parking, so I wanted to arrive early enough to not stress about that.  We weren't the last people there by any means, but not the first either!  Arriving in the dark and pumping tires and double checking gear under the light of a flashlight was not ideal, but it worked. By 5:30 am, I was headed to packet pick-up (where I learned that I was in the LAST wave) and then on to the transition zone.  As I set up my stuff, it did occur to me how complicated my gear and the transition zone used to seem - this time around, I kept thinking "Is this it?  What did I forget?!" because it all seemed fairly uncomplicated.  Maybe I've developed some comfort with all this tri stuff?  But I also had the feeling that something must be amiss!

By the time that we had to be out of the transition zone, I felt pretty relaxed (except for that nagging "what did I forget thought", and Michael and I could take in some of the Malibu scenery:

"Scenery" being the lifeguard station and the waves breaking!

And then it was time to get started!  For the swim, we had to walk down the beach to the start and would swim to the finish.  The walk south was great - it was such a beautiful morning and exciting to be in the mix of the crowd!

Michael and I had fun watching the elite wave start out, but as we watched the waves of people go out and battle with the ocean, my confidence eroded a little bit each time.  Getting past the first buoy, depending on how the ocean waves were breaking, seemed tricky.  Other women in my group were getting in the water, to practice their stroke or to get a feel for the water (Oh, yeah, that's what you're supposed to do...), but I stayed firmly planted on the sand because I was afraid that if I got in the water, I'd panic and not do the swim.  Talk about feeling like a rookie!  I kept thinking "If I can survive the swim, I can finish this race.  I know it!".  Great little pep talk.  The other thought that popped into my mind as I waited to start was my whole "respect the race" blab from a few months ago.  I was seriously feeling like an ass because while I was familiar with the olympic distance, I hadn't done an ocean swim since the beginning of June.  What the hell was I thinking?!  

Fortunately, the time to think rationally was over as it was time to line up and get ready to go:

Once the cannon went off, we headed into the water and the fun started!  Getting around the first buoy wasn't as terrible as I thought that it might be - although I did get a little off course.  And then we just headed north, keeping the buoys to our right.  I felt like I was swimming in one of those "Endless pools" because I had no sense of my pace or where I was in relation to the beach.  I took in a few mouthfuls of water, but I could see pretty clearly and there wasn't tons of contact - it was a relatively calm swim in terms of touching and grabbing.  I finally reached what was the last buoy - people were turning right, so I turned right, much to my relief and surprise - almost done!  With the swim, at least.  I exited the water, happy to be out of there and on to transition.  I wasn't wearing a watch for the swim, so I had no idea what my time was.  I had estimated that it would probably take me longer than usual, so I was hoping for 34-36 minutes, but, since the course had no clock visible (to me, at least) around the transition zone, I didn't even worry about my swim time.  I did note that I was not the very last person in my rack to be out of the water since there were plenty of bikes still racked - that is always a positive sign for me.

At that point, it was on to the bike!  I knew that it could possibly be a good bike leg for me, in part because of my comfort with the course.  Heading north on PCH from Zuma was a "known known", thanks to our many rides over the summer.  I had a dream-like moment on the bike when I thought to myself "Shit, am I wearing my helmet?!?!".  Obviously I did, but what a weird thought - it was indicative of the "Am I doing this" feeling that I had at different parts of the day.  Other than that mild moment of panic, it ended up being a great ride, although not super fast, in part because I did not push it at the beginning and in part because of two no-pass zones.  The no-pass zones totally sucked because they were stretches that would lend themselves to a fast pace except that a group of us got stuck behind a slower person.  Ultimately, not the fastest bike leg for me, but it was gorgeous and really pretty fun!  

I was so happy to be off the bike - not that I was exhausted or even that tired, but I knew that I had survived the swim and the bike, and that my legs seemed to feel good, so the FLAT run would be a nice way to end the race.  Also, I was right in the thick of a group of 40-something-women, and I hoped that I would be able to pass a few on the run.  Starting out on the run, I felt great and had a smile for Michael:

For the first mile, I ran at a pace that seemed too good to be true - easily maintaining 8:30, numbers that I hadn't seen in months!  I worried about starting out too fast, but the pace felt easy, my breathing was relaxed, and I was enjoying passing people.  So, I decided to keep it up if I could. Which I did - and by mile 3, I had picked off the women in my age group that were clumped together on the bike.  Success!  The last few miles were fun and fast (for me), and even though I was getting tired, I kept pushing myself and even cranked it a bit when I hit mile 6 and knew that the finish line was right around a corner or two and that I would finish the run under 50 minutes!  (Did I mention that the course was FLAT?!)

Michael positioned himself for a smile and a wave, right before I crossed the finish line at, what was total shock to me, under 3 hours for a nice, shiny PR!  I was so happy that I finally broke that damn 3 hour threshold, and I couldn't believe that I managed to do so at this race, of all of them.

After getting my medal, some water and food, I checked the results to make sure that I really did finish under three hours because it just seemed fairly unreal.  What pushed me over the edge? Had I finally mastered the art of the transition?  Was my bike leg faster than I thought?  Well, it turns out that my transition times still suck.  However, my swim time was crazy fast for me - under 30 minutes!  Obviously there was a serious current pulling us north on the swim, but when I saw the time, I just started laughing at how ridiculous my estimated time was.  Maybe it was a good thing that I had no idea how close I was to pulling off  a PR?  I'm not sure - I'm just delighted that it was such a fun and, for me, a fast race! 

Thinking about yesterday morning, I can't believe that I almost didn't show up to race - literally and also in a more figurative sense.  I recognize that I was a bit "off" my mental game going into it and didn't feel that I had much of an edge when I started the swim, but I didn't panic in the water, tried to ride strong on the bike, and I really pushed myself on the run.  This was such a pleasant surprise of a race, and, just as important as the overall time, I couldn't stop grinning throughout the race because I was enjoying myself so much.  I'll admit that I feel almost guilty about the PR because it felt so 'easy'.  I think about how focused I was for Wildflower, how much I wanted to be happy and proud of my performance there, and how that just did not happen, despite training hard and strong and despite improving my time there.  This race felt relaxed and serendipitous, and maybe I need(ed) to race just for pleasure in order to feel good about it?  I have yet to figure out what the perfect recipe is for me, but this is definitely a nice note on which to end the 2012 tri season!