Kerrville Half Ironman Triathlon 2013 race report.
Gotta do one half Ironman before doing an Ironman, right? Ideally, anyway. And Kerrville came at the right time, 5 weeks before Ironman Florida. Perfect time to do a fitness assessment and some race practice.
Goals
My main goal for this race was honestly just to feel good about my race. I had a really rough Kerrville last year, mostly because I should have just called my season Done after Ironman Mont-Tremblant, and neither my heart nor my head were in the game. So I wanted to feel good this time. And ideally go faster than Kerrville 2012. And hey, ideally go faster than my fastest half Ironman, why not? And then my absolute stretch goal was to look at my watch at the finish line, hoping to see sub-5:54 (which would be a PR) and instead see something that just blew that time out of the water.
But my goal race is Florida, and Kerrville is just a tune-up, so at the end of the day.. I just wanted to feel good about my race.
Before
I normally don't bother staying at the host hotel. They jack up the price, and often don't really provide much benefit over another, cheaper hotel. We learned last year, though, that the host hotel for Kerrville is totally worth it. Packet pickup is at the hotel (which is standard), but so, basically, is day-before bike drop-off. AND you can roll out of bed and walk 2 minutes to the start line. So worth it.
Transition opened at 5:30, and we'd normally be the people showing up at 5:30 to get set up. Instead we were the people who rolled out of bed at 5 and showed up at transition at 6:30. Lovely.
Against all odds, I once again had to reluctantly remove my jacket to get bodymarked. The forecast, when we looked a week ahead (way too far out) said Saturday would be warm, but a front would come through on Sunday and cool it down (and also make it rain). Then over the course of the week, they kept moving the front's arrival later and later, until finally the weather looked like it would be great! ... about 2 days after the triathlon. Sunday promised to be in the upper 80s and raining. Warm and humid. So rare in Texas. My favorite.
And sure enough, the weather on Saturday for the sprint race was warm and humid. Later that day, the promised rain started rolling in, and it poured and poured for several hours. I went to bed Saturday night with the rain sheeting down outside, convinced my shoes and socks over in T2 were getting drenched, and my bike, as well, just outside in T1.
And then I woke up Sunday morning, and the rain had stopped and it was in the 60s. And it wasn't supposed to LEAVE the 60s all day. Dare I say.. perfect weather? It sure looked like it would be! (Spoiler: It was. All day. Perfect.)
As I was about to walk into transition after getting bodymarked, I saw Heather there, bodymarking! She came over to bodymark me, and I pointed out I'd just gotten it done. So she could embellish me! she suggested. I pointed out the happyface already on the back of my calf. But then she saw Matt, and figured she could.. oh. Already bodymarked. With a happyface. Sorry, Heather! Sorry!
Since we'd dropped off bikes and run gear the day before, all that was left to do was put fluids and foods on my bike, set up my helmet and sunglasses, turn on my bike computer, and put on my wetsuit. Karen's wetsuit, rather. She had bought a new sleeved wetsuit, leaving her sleeveless available for borrowing. And since that left my (chokey) sleeveless wetsuit available, Pam was borrowing that. Wetsuit rolldown! This almost fell under the Nothing New On Raceday rule, except that I'd worn it before. Exactly once. For 2.4 miles at Ironman Mont-Tremblant. But I was borrowing it again for Florida, so this was a good test run/update.
Hanging out in neoprene with my favorite husband
Photo by Multisport Photography
Transition closed, and we wandered down to the water's edge. I was in the next to last wave, but I didn't have long to wait, since there were only 6 or 7 waves total, going off every 4 minutes. Betsy and David kept me warm with hugs and jackets, which was a nice bookend to my year, from the time Betsy kept me warm before Enchanted Rock Du! And then it was my turn to get in the water.
Managed not to brain myself ooching down the steep ramp into the water, and found a nice starting point, right in the middle at the front. It was a fairly small wave, even though it was all women 39 and under, but I'm trying to practice aggression, even if it goes against all my instincts.
Logan counted down from 10, and we were off!
Swim 1.2 miles
I started out hard, and so did everyone else. We were all packed together for a fairly long time, but spread out, such that there really wasn't any contact (at least not where I was). After a minute or two, I realized that this really wasn't going to break up appreciably, so I looked around to find some feet. Despite our bunchiness, no promising feet really presented themselves, and I just settled into my own rhythm, trying to slow my heartrate and breathing down to sustainable levels.
The front of my purple-capped wave. I think that's me just in front of the girl near the front breathing in the dark goggles. I'm the one with the weird floppy hand thing going on. Always.
Photo from dailytimes.com
As I neared the first turn buoy, a girl slowly pulled ahead of me, and I thought, "Eureka! Feet for me!" She was faster than me, but maybe just that perfect amount faster, where it would be ideal drafting! Except suddenly the feet stopped right in front of me, because she'd flipped over on her back. Huh. I swerved around her and swam on my own the short distance to the next turn buoy, and then she pulled ahead of me again. And again I hopped on her feet. And AGAIN she flipped over on her back.
Now I know Jamie says that even drafting off of someone who can't swim straight is better than not drafting at all, so maybe I would have still benefited from sticking with this girl through front and back strokes, but man, I couldn't deal with that level of uncertainty, so I gave up on those feet, no matter how wonderful they were when they were swimming freestyle, and resigned myself to being on my own.
About that time I started to move into the slower guys from the waves in front of me, and got distracted with trying to find a good line. And got a little lazy and complacent and a bit bored. I always forget how far 1.2 miles is. I was startled from my reverie by someone touching my foot. Someone drafting off of me? Someone from the wave behind me (which would be the relay wave, the only one after mine) passing me? A shark? Message in a bottle? Before I had time to come up with any more theories, someone swam up beside me and passed me. They were moving at a pretty good clip past me, so I figured it had to be someone from the relay wave, but then I saw they had a purple cap. Huh. Someone from my wave! I wasn't sure why they had still been behind me nearly halfway through the swim, but I realized that I had been slacking off, and this was a good wake-up call. These were my feet.
For the rest of the swim I doggedly clung to those feet. These WERE the perfect feet for me.. not so fast that they outpaced me, but fast enough that I wasn't constantly accidentally touching them, and I had to push a bit to stay on them. I also realized that they looked remarkably like Michelle's feet, though I couldn't determine that for sure one way or the other.
Those feet led me around the last two turn buoys and then back to shore without incident. I drafted right up to the exit ramp, then let the volunteers pull me up onto my feet and up the steep ramp.
T1
Hey, look, those WERE Michelle's feet! I thanked her for the draft as I pulled off my goggles and swimcap and ran up to the wetsuit strippers. Evidently I should have dealt with the top half of my wetsuit instead of the swimcap, because by the time I got to the strippers, I had barely even gotten my wetsuit unzipped, much less down to my waist.
I surveyed the available strippers, and saw Heather waving at me eagerly. After inadvertently shunning her earlier that morning (repeatedly), I figured she would probably punch me if I let someone else strip me, so I ran to her and her partner. Since I still hadn't gotten the top half of my suit off, they helped me pull it down to my waist, then I flopped onto the ground and we awkwardly managed to get me extracted from the bottom half of the wetsuit, as well. Grabbed the suit and I was off to transition.
The rest of my transition went pretty flawlessly. I found my bike immediately, and put on my sunglasses, number and helmet as I heard Michelle yelling, "Where is my bike?!" Stuffed my wetsuit and swim gear into my swim to bike bag, grabbed my bike from the rack, and ran my way to Bike Out, across the mount line.
Bike 56 miles
My mount went less flawlessly, but I did manage to get my feet on my shoes, shove off and get a leg over on the SECOND attempt (the first attempt was not disastrous, just awkward again, and slow). Got my feet into my shoes, then settled in just in time for Michelle to ride by me grumbling about not being able to find her bike. I told her I was happy that I at least beat her at ONE part of the tri, even if it was just T1.
Made it into and through town feeling good, and then out onto the highway for a long stretch. My bike computer beeped at me, and even though I didn't plan to pay attention to my bike computer other than to figure out when to eat, I glanced at it. Then I glanced at it again, because the number confused me.
I love that I can figure out which loop a photo is from based on what bottles are on my bike.
Photo by Kristen Carey
I have my bike computer set to auto-split every 5 miles. Rather, my bike computer came pre-set to do that. I usually either ignore it, or just use it to figure out whether I'm having a good day or a bad day. Because really only one number means anything at all to me, and that's 20 minutes. At some point I figured out that riding 5 miles at 15mph takes 20 minutes. (Fear my math skills.) So if my bike split is 20 minutes, those 5 miles averaged 15mph. If it's less than 20 minutes, that's cause for happiness, because >15mph is really good for me. If it's more than 20 minutes, that means I'm in the 14s or below. A place I'd really like to not still be stuck in, but often still am during training rides. I've come to accept it, even if I don't love it.
Right, so, sometimes, especially during races, I'll see a 5 mile split that's 19 or 18, and I'll be happy, 'cause damned if I know what that means for average speed, but it's better than 15mph!
Well, my first split that morning started with a 14. I'm not sure I've ever seen a 14:something. I figured the gps was having trouble with satellites or something like that, and ignored it. Well, actually I was appreciative that I got a heads up that it had been roughly 15 minutes, since my plan was to eat 2 CliffBlocks every 15 minutes. So I ate and then ignored it and soldiered on.
A while later, my computer beeped again. And again the split was 14:something. Okay, so either my bike computer is severely malfunctioning or.. huh.. maybe I just have a massive tailwind! I hadn't really paid attention to the wind, but not noticing the wind usually means a tailwind. We'd had a headwind on this section last year, but the front probably turned the winds around, and.. yay, tailwind! I still didn't know what 14:something came out to for average pace, but I celebrated my going-fastness by eating 2 more CliffBlocks.
I made sure to enjoy the rest of that highway section, because, just as I had remembered, the turn off the highway begins the chipseal. And yep, there it was, right where I remembered it.
So the rest of the loop is basically a chipseally slog. There's some hills, there's a really contrived out and back with a tight U-turn, there's some horses. Then there's more chipseal, this time with a headwind! I tried to keep my effort, my pace and my spirits up, since the chipseal and headwind is what really broke me last year, and eventually I made it back to town again.
As I came into town, I passed one of my favorite spectators of the day. She was all alone, fairly far off the road, and she had a sign that said, "Cow Goes Moo". I couldn't help myself, and yelled out, "Yeah, but, what does the fox say?" and without missing a beat, she responded, "Ring-ding-ding-ding-ding..!" Kinda made my day.
Hi, Tom!
Photo by Multisport Photography
Also put a smile on my face, which just got bigger when I saw Tom taking pictures before the turn into town, and then rode through the cheering spectators and volunteers to finish my first loop.
Happy!
Photo by Kristen Carey
Whew. One down, one to go. And the first section was back through the highway tailwind again! A little slower through that section this time, but still flying, and making sure I used it and appreciated it.
Because, yeah, soon enough it was back to the chipseal again. But I knew this was the last time I had to deal with it, so I just made sure I kept eating and drinking religiously, sang songs in my head, and cheered for other people as I passed and was passed.
At some point I launched my bottle of electrolyte drink from my rear cage, so I was working with only one bottle of water. Normally that's not a huge deal for me, because I usually underdrink, but I was making a concerted effort to drink more this race (and peeing more as a result) (and no, I never stopped), so I knew I needed to get another bottle on board at the next aid station.
Just after the low water crossing, a police officer told me there was a rider down ahead, and medical crew in the road. I thanked him and started watching ahead, and sure enough there was a big cluster of activity in the middle of the road up ahead. As I got closer, I noticed that it was right at the aid station. And I remembered I needed to get more fluids from the aid station. So I pulled out my main water bottle to toss/replace it. Then I remembered I had no rear drink at all, and so I should keep my still-maybe-half-full main water bottle and just get a new bottle for the rear cage. Except now I was almost right up to the wreck, and going way too fast. So I had to brake, but I had a water bottle in my right hand, so I put my bottled hand up on the handlebars and grabbed the brakes with my left hand. Way too hard. And almost did an endo. And my handlebars turned sharply to the left. And I very nearly flipped went down straight on top of the person already crashed in the road. And somehow.. SOMEHOW.. I managed to right my handlebars, right myself, swerve around the wreck and not fall. It was close enough that the medical guy chastised me for coming so close, which he had every reason to do. AND on top of all that.. I even managed to grab a water bottle from the last guy at the aid station and shove it in my back cage. And then I spent the next 5 minutes shaking, full of adrenaline, and berating myself for my stupidity. Somehow in all that, I also managed to whack the fleshy part of my palm against.. something.. and bruise it most painfully.
(And I later came to find out that it was Michelle, off of whom I drafted on the swim, who I would have come crashing down on top of. And I'm sure her fractured clavicle would not have appreciated that at all.)
Happy to say that the rest of the bike was largely uneventful in comparison. I was definitely slower this loop, and a little bit concerned that I had pushed too hard on the bike and it was going to impact my run. But also happy that I had pushed on the bike, and there's no way to find that line if you don't push it, I suppose.
Oh, as one final bit of stupidity.. evidently I'd never before had a crappy disposable plastic water bottle in my rear bottle cage before. I've had crappy disposable plastic Gatorade/Perform bottles in there, but those are significantly sturdier. At one point in the last few miles, I pulled that bottle out, drank some water, then reached around to shove the bottle back in the cage, and .. couldn't. I normally do this by feel, since I can't see the cages, and the plastic was so flimsy that when I'd shove the bottle where I thought the holder was, it would just sorta crumple. I honestly couldn't tell when I had the bottle positioned over the holder. And after 3 or 4 tries, I was becoming convinced that I was going to end up wedging the bottle into my wheel, or between the wheel and the holder, where it would then fall through. I considered just tossing the bottle on the side of the road, but even without anyone out there to see me doing it, I couldn't make myself litter. So I one-handedly sprinted my way up to the guy up the road, pulled up beside him, and said, "Uh, hi, I have a strange request. Can you help me get my bottle into the bottlecage?" then pulled up ahead of him a little to demonstrate what I was asking. He kinda laughed, then said, "Toward me a little bit.. right there," and that did it! I thanked him, telling him I was tremendously embarrassed but very appreciative.
But after THAT, things were uneventful for the rest of the ride. Back into town again for the last time. Unlike last year, this year I knew roughly where the dismount line was, so got my feet out of my shoes in plenty of time, and hopped off the bike right at the line.
T2
I ran my bike into transition, and had that weird moment of disorientation that comes with a two-transition triathlon, where you've not actually been here before, but you still have to figure out where your stuff is. Fortunately we'd counted rows the day before, and I knew I was on the 9th row, because we spent like 15 minutes saying, "Nein! Nein!" and laughing at ourselves. I was glad our stupidity came in handy.
Found the neinth row, ran down to the far end, and there was Pam's bike, right next to my bag! I had to remove my bag to rack my bike, which was super, super easy and convenient, then reluctantly untied my bag.
I had put my shoes and socks in a plastic grocery bag and tied it as shut as you can half-heartedly tie a grocery bag, but I hadn't made any effort to tie the outer bag to keep water out. And it had rained the night before. Poured. Deluged. I figured I'd have 3 inches of standing water in my bag, and soaking wet shoes and socks. But.. they weren't. They were fine. Dry. As was my visor, which I KNEW had to be drenched. Nope. Dry. Huh.
Putting on my socks and shoes felt extremely awkward, and like it took half an hour, but I got them on, put my visor on, then grabbed my ziploc bag full of gu and salt and headed out for the run, shoving the bag in my pocket on the way.
I was trying not to dwell on my time during this race, but I happened to glance down at my watch as I hit split to begin my run, and it said my total time was 3:50. If I could run a 2 hour half marathon, I could come in sub-6. But I had never yet had a half marathon at the end of a half Ironman that I felt reflected my ability to run.
Run 13.1 miles
My stomach felt a little iffy as I left transition, and I considered hitting the portapotty just past the aid station, but decided it wasn't too bad, and I'd wait to see what happened. My nutrition plan called for eating a gu at the beginning of my run, but that sounded REALLY unappealing, and I'd just eaten 2 CliffBlocks about 10 minutes ago, so I decided to wait until my stomach settled a bit to start eating.
I passed Carol shortly after I started running, and she asked if I knew if Karen was okay. I hadn't seen Karen (which was normal, since she started before me and is much faster on the bike), so I said I had no idea, and she said something about her looking bad or having stopped or something. Not good. But then a short time later, I saw Pam, who'd been having knee pain on the bike and was afraid she'd have to DNF. I cheered for her, happy to see her still going! And she said she'd only done one bike loop. Gah. Tough day out there.
But I pushed all that aside, because I had to run my own race. And first I had to get my damn feet to cooperate. They were slightly numb from the bike, which is not abnormal for me, but running is really awkward until full feeling comes back, so I just concentrated on turnover and forward motion. And cheering! Man, I don't love a run that's 4 loops, but I do love a run where I get to cheer for my friends and spectators basically nonstop for 13 miles. So much fun.
Fun! Except I hate it when thighs do that in running pictures. Creepy.
Photo by Kristen Carey
I spent the first loop just settling in and feeling out the loop. It was slightly different from last year, because they took the trail portion out (THANKFULLY), but added another hill. On the second loop, I finally convinced myself to take my ziploc bag out of my back pocket and at least take out a gu and hold it, in case I should want to eat. I also made myself take a salt pill. It was still overcast and pleasant, but I didn't want to give cramps any reason to show up.
Around mile 4, I slowly caught up to Kristi, who was one loop ahead of me. As I pulled up beside her, I said, "Okay, the plan is for you to stay with me. That's the plan." And she agreed, and matched pace with me! Yay! That so rarely actually works!
Now I had company, which always makes things more pleasant!
We approached an aid station, and I knew I was at around 40 minutes, which is when I should be taking my SECOND gu, and I still hadn't taken one. So while Kristi ran over to get an orange slice, I tore the lid off my gu and ate a little, and immediately gagged. Crap. I knew I needed the calories, though, so I squeezed the rest into my mouth and swallowed it as quickly as possible, then grabbed water to wash it down, gagging all the while. But it stayed inside. And I knew that I couldn't take anymore gu without disastrous results. So looks like I'd be switching to Coke for my calories for the rest of the run!
Kristi and I were keeping a really good pace and I was having a great time. I kept cheering for the people I knew, and at one point we passed a guy who said, "Do you know EVERYONE?!" And I admitted that.. basically I did. And I asked him what his name was, so that I could cheer for him, too. It was Justin. Except I never actually saw Justin's FACE, since he was behind me for this whole conversation, so I never got to cheer for him. Uh, sorry, Justin!
We finished my second loop, and then all Kristi had left was one final loop! I tried to concentrate on being excited for her, rather than dwelling on the fact that I still had two left. Except at some point, I ended up pulling ahead of her slowly, and then I was alone again. But things were still good. I was drinking lots of water, dumping water on my head, cheering, high-fiving friends (and how fabulous it was to see my husband smiling each time I saw him, obviously enjoying his race), running, having a lovely time.
Hi again, Tom!
Photo by Multisport Photography
And then maybe 3/4 of the way through my third loop, things started getting harder. I was still running well, but it was taking more effort. And those two hills got steeper. And many of the people I was cheering for were heading into the finish line on their final loop. And I still had an entire other loop to go if I ever finished this one. And how was that even possible? Whose idea was it to make this run four loops?
As I finished loop 3, Logan asked me over the PA how many loops I had left, and I held up one finger. Just one victory loop. Except man, I was so done.
On that last loop, people kept telling me I looked great, looked strong, and I kept yelling back, ".. and yet I feel like shit!" with a smile on my face. I'm not sure people believed me, but I was SO DONE. I think a large part of it was just lack of calories. I was drinking Coke at some aid stations, but it wasn't enough to really keep me going, just enough to barely stave off a complete bonk. BUT.. I held it together. I have no idea what my paces were for any of the loops, and I'm sure I probably slowed down by the last one, but I managed to keep going, stay strong, stay positive (if I'd stopped responding to people and cheering for them, that would have been a bad sign.. if I'm still able to smile and tell people how shitty I feel, I'm probably doing okay).
I made an extra point to thank all of the volunteers and spectators on my last loop, and tried to focus on being mentally strong, and when I saw Matt, Betsy and David cheering on the road near the finish line, I tried to pick it up and give whatever I had left. Tore around the corner, around the corner again, and there was the finish line. Threw my arms up in the air, then laughed as I watched the finish line volunteers desperately trying to get the tape repositioned after the last finisher, get tangled up together, then finally get it stretched out just as I crossed the finish line.
Results
Matt came and found me immediately, and asked me what I needed. And what I needed was just to keep walking. I felt pretty bad at first, and as I walked and took in some water, I finally looked at my watch, and realized why I felt so bad.
I knew my previous best half Ironman time was somewhere around a 5:54. My watch said 5:43. Over a 10 minute PR! Exactly what I wanted.. to look at my watch and have blown it out of the water. I was overjoyed. And exhausted.
Swim: 36:45 (1:54/M)
T1: 1:36
Bike: 3:10:30 (17.6MPH)
T2: 2:00
Run: 1:52:20 (8:35/M)
Total: 5:43:12
The swim wasn't a PR (which was 34:12 at Vineman), but was a solid time (and Jamie says he thinks the swim was long, but who knows). Only one person in my age group who was ahead of me overall swam faster than I did.
My transitions were both solid, even though my T2 felt so slow, and both were up at the top of my age group.
My run. My run! Finally a time I'm really proud of! I was running by feel, and never looked at my watch. And my run felt hard. But now I know why! Because I was running hard. I'm pretty damn happy with that run. It's definitely something I need to keep in check for Ironman Florida, though. I can't afford to run that hard that early in an Ironman. I need to keep my effort in check, and my nutrition under control, or I'll be walking by the end. 6th in my age group for the run. (A 5 minute PR over my 1:57:50 in New Orleans.)
And then the bike. On the minus side, I was 11th in my age group on the bike, which knocked me way down in the standings. On the plus side.. I averaged 17.6mph for 56 miles, which is fantastic for me! I'd love to be able to hang with the top 3 girls in my age group who all averaged over 20mph, but that's just not where my strengths lie. (And I DID outswim 2 of them and outrun 2 of them.) It WAS a 4 minute PR over my previous best of 3:14:08 at New Orleans.
And let's see if we can tell, based on my 5 mile average speed splits, where the tailwinds were!
20.3mph, 20.1, 19.0, 16.4, 15.8, 17.0, 20.0, 19.8, 16.1, 15.4, 15.3
That's by far the longest I've ever averaged 20mph! And hey, not a single 5 mile block under 15mph.
At the end of the day, 8th of 24 in my age group, so nowhere near the podium, but DAMN my age group was tough. If I'd been in any other age group, younger or older, I would have placed higher.
And yet I'm elated with the results, and very excited to take my solid training, add 5 more weeks on top of it, and see what I'm able to pull off in Florida!
Goals
My main goal for this race was honestly just to feel good about my race. I had a really rough Kerrville last year, mostly because I should have just called my season Done after Ironman Mont-Tremblant, and neither my heart nor my head were in the game. So I wanted to feel good this time. And ideally go faster than Kerrville 2012. And hey, ideally go faster than my fastest half Ironman, why not? And then my absolute stretch goal was to look at my watch at the finish line, hoping to see sub-5:54 (which would be a PR) and instead see something that just blew that time out of the water.
But my goal race is Florida, and Kerrville is just a tune-up, so at the end of the day.. I just wanted to feel good about my race.
Before
I normally don't bother staying at the host hotel. They jack up the price, and often don't really provide much benefit over another, cheaper hotel. We learned last year, though, that the host hotel for Kerrville is totally worth it. Packet pickup is at the hotel (which is standard), but so, basically, is day-before bike drop-off. AND you can roll out of bed and walk 2 minutes to the start line. So worth it.
Transition opened at 5:30, and we'd normally be the people showing up at 5:30 to get set up. Instead we were the people who rolled out of bed at 5 and showed up at transition at 6:30. Lovely.
Against all odds, I once again had to reluctantly remove my jacket to get bodymarked. The forecast, when we looked a week ahead (way too far out) said Saturday would be warm, but a front would come through on Sunday and cool it down (and also make it rain). Then over the course of the week, they kept moving the front's arrival later and later, until finally the weather looked like it would be great! ... about 2 days after the triathlon. Sunday promised to be in the upper 80s and raining. Warm and humid. So rare in Texas. My favorite.
And sure enough, the weather on Saturday for the sprint race was warm and humid. Later that day, the promised rain started rolling in, and it poured and poured for several hours. I went to bed Saturday night with the rain sheeting down outside, convinced my shoes and socks over in T2 were getting drenched, and my bike, as well, just outside in T1.
And then I woke up Sunday morning, and the rain had stopped and it was in the 60s. And it wasn't supposed to LEAVE the 60s all day. Dare I say.. perfect weather? It sure looked like it would be! (Spoiler: It was. All day. Perfect.)
As I was about to walk into transition after getting bodymarked, I saw Heather there, bodymarking! She came over to bodymark me, and I pointed out I'd just gotten it done. So she could embellish me! she suggested. I pointed out the happyface already on the back of my calf. But then she saw Matt, and figured she could.. oh. Already bodymarked. With a happyface. Sorry, Heather! Sorry!
Since we'd dropped off bikes and run gear the day before, all that was left to do was put fluids and foods on my bike, set up my helmet and sunglasses, turn on my bike computer, and put on my wetsuit. Karen's wetsuit, rather. She had bought a new sleeved wetsuit, leaving her sleeveless available for borrowing. And since that left my (chokey) sleeveless wetsuit available, Pam was borrowing that. Wetsuit rolldown! This almost fell under the Nothing New On Raceday rule, except that I'd worn it before. Exactly once. For 2.4 miles at Ironman Mont-Tremblant. But I was borrowing it again for Florida, so this was a good test run/update.
Hanging out in neoprene with my favorite husband
Photo by Multisport Photography
Transition closed, and we wandered down to the water's edge. I was in the next to last wave, but I didn't have long to wait, since there were only 6 or 7 waves total, going off every 4 minutes. Betsy and David kept me warm with hugs and jackets, which was a nice bookend to my year, from the time Betsy kept me warm before Enchanted Rock Du! And then it was my turn to get in the water.
Managed not to brain myself ooching down the steep ramp into the water, and found a nice starting point, right in the middle at the front. It was a fairly small wave, even though it was all women 39 and under, but I'm trying to practice aggression, even if it goes against all my instincts.
Logan counted down from 10, and we were off!
Swim 1.2 miles
I started out hard, and so did everyone else. We were all packed together for a fairly long time, but spread out, such that there really wasn't any contact (at least not where I was). After a minute or two, I realized that this really wasn't going to break up appreciably, so I looked around to find some feet. Despite our bunchiness, no promising feet really presented themselves, and I just settled into my own rhythm, trying to slow my heartrate and breathing down to sustainable levels.
The front of my purple-capped wave. I think that's me just in front of the girl near the front breathing in the dark goggles. I'm the one with the weird floppy hand thing going on. Always.
Photo from dailytimes.com
As I neared the first turn buoy, a girl slowly pulled ahead of me, and I thought, "Eureka! Feet for me!" She was faster than me, but maybe just that perfect amount faster, where it would be ideal drafting! Except suddenly the feet stopped right in front of me, because she'd flipped over on her back. Huh. I swerved around her and swam on my own the short distance to the next turn buoy, and then she pulled ahead of me again. And again I hopped on her feet. And AGAIN she flipped over on her back.
Now I know Jamie says that even drafting off of someone who can't swim straight is better than not drafting at all, so maybe I would have still benefited from sticking with this girl through front and back strokes, but man, I couldn't deal with that level of uncertainty, so I gave up on those feet, no matter how wonderful they were when they were swimming freestyle, and resigned myself to being on my own.
About that time I started to move into the slower guys from the waves in front of me, and got distracted with trying to find a good line. And got a little lazy and complacent and a bit bored. I always forget how far 1.2 miles is. I was startled from my reverie by someone touching my foot. Someone drafting off of me? Someone from the wave behind me (which would be the relay wave, the only one after mine) passing me? A shark? Message in a bottle? Before I had time to come up with any more theories, someone swam up beside me and passed me. They were moving at a pretty good clip past me, so I figured it had to be someone from the relay wave, but then I saw they had a purple cap. Huh. Someone from my wave! I wasn't sure why they had still been behind me nearly halfway through the swim, but I realized that I had been slacking off, and this was a good wake-up call. These were my feet.
For the rest of the swim I doggedly clung to those feet. These WERE the perfect feet for me.. not so fast that they outpaced me, but fast enough that I wasn't constantly accidentally touching them, and I had to push a bit to stay on them. I also realized that they looked remarkably like Michelle's feet, though I couldn't determine that for sure one way or the other.
Those feet led me around the last two turn buoys and then back to shore without incident. I drafted right up to the exit ramp, then let the volunteers pull me up onto my feet and up the steep ramp.
T1
Hey, look, those WERE Michelle's feet! I thanked her for the draft as I pulled off my goggles and swimcap and ran up to the wetsuit strippers. Evidently I should have dealt with the top half of my wetsuit instead of the swimcap, because by the time I got to the strippers, I had barely even gotten my wetsuit unzipped, much less down to my waist.
I surveyed the available strippers, and saw Heather waving at me eagerly. After inadvertently shunning her earlier that morning (repeatedly), I figured she would probably punch me if I let someone else strip me, so I ran to her and her partner. Since I still hadn't gotten the top half of my suit off, they helped me pull it down to my waist, then I flopped onto the ground and we awkwardly managed to get me extracted from the bottom half of the wetsuit, as well. Grabbed the suit and I was off to transition.
The rest of my transition went pretty flawlessly. I found my bike immediately, and put on my sunglasses, number and helmet as I heard Michelle yelling, "Where is my bike?!" Stuffed my wetsuit and swim gear into my swim to bike bag, grabbed my bike from the rack, and ran my way to Bike Out, across the mount line.
Bike 56 miles
My mount went less flawlessly, but I did manage to get my feet on my shoes, shove off and get a leg over on the SECOND attempt (the first attempt was not disastrous, just awkward again, and slow). Got my feet into my shoes, then settled in just in time for Michelle to ride by me grumbling about not being able to find her bike. I told her I was happy that I at least beat her at ONE part of the tri, even if it was just T1.
Made it into and through town feeling good, and then out onto the highway for a long stretch. My bike computer beeped at me, and even though I didn't plan to pay attention to my bike computer other than to figure out when to eat, I glanced at it. Then I glanced at it again, because the number confused me.
I love that I can figure out which loop a photo is from based on what bottles are on my bike.
Photo by Kristen Carey
I have my bike computer set to auto-split every 5 miles. Rather, my bike computer came pre-set to do that. I usually either ignore it, or just use it to figure out whether I'm having a good day or a bad day. Because really only one number means anything at all to me, and that's 20 minutes. At some point I figured out that riding 5 miles at 15mph takes 20 minutes. (Fear my math skills.) So if my bike split is 20 minutes, those 5 miles averaged 15mph. If it's less than 20 minutes, that's cause for happiness, because >15mph is really good for me. If it's more than 20 minutes, that means I'm in the 14s or below. A place I'd really like to not still be stuck in, but often still am during training rides. I've come to accept it, even if I don't love it.
Right, so, sometimes, especially during races, I'll see a 5 mile split that's 19 or 18, and I'll be happy, 'cause damned if I know what that means for average speed, but it's better than 15mph!
Well, my first split that morning started with a 14. I'm not sure I've ever seen a 14:something. I figured the gps was having trouble with satellites or something like that, and ignored it. Well, actually I was appreciative that I got a heads up that it had been roughly 15 minutes, since my plan was to eat 2 CliffBlocks every 15 minutes. So I ate and then ignored it and soldiered on.
A while later, my computer beeped again. And again the split was 14:something. Okay, so either my bike computer is severely malfunctioning or.. huh.. maybe I just have a massive tailwind! I hadn't really paid attention to the wind, but not noticing the wind usually means a tailwind. We'd had a headwind on this section last year, but the front probably turned the winds around, and.. yay, tailwind! I still didn't know what 14:something came out to for average pace, but I celebrated my going-fastness by eating 2 more CliffBlocks.
I made sure to enjoy the rest of that highway section, because, just as I had remembered, the turn off the highway begins the chipseal. And yep, there it was, right where I remembered it.
So the rest of the loop is basically a chipseally slog. There's some hills, there's a really contrived out and back with a tight U-turn, there's some horses. Then there's more chipseal, this time with a headwind! I tried to keep my effort, my pace and my spirits up, since the chipseal and headwind is what really broke me last year, and eventually I made it back to town again.
As I came into town, I passed one of my favorite spectators of the day. She was all alone, fairly far off the road, and she had a sign that said, "Cow Goes Moo". I couldn't help myself, and yelled out, "Yeah, but, what does the fox say?" and without missing a beat, she responded, "Ring-ding-ding-ding-ding..!" Kinda made my day.
Hi, Tom!
Photo by Multisport Photography
Also put a smile on my face, which just got bigger when I saw Tom taking pictures before the turn into town, and then rode through the cheering spectators and volunteers to finish my first loop.
Happy!
Photo by Kristen Carey
Whew. One down, one to go. And the first section was back through the highway tailwind again! A little slower through that section this time, but still flying, and making sure I used it and appreciated it.
Because, yeah, soon enough it was back to the chipseal again. But I knew this was the last time I had to deal with it, so I just made sure I kept eating and drinking religiously, sang songs in my head, and cheered for other people as I passed and was passed.
At some point I launched my bottle of electrolyte drink from my rear cage, so I was working with only one bottle of water. Normally that's not a huge deal for me, because I usually underdrink, but I was making a concerted effort to drink more this race (and peeing more as a result) (and no, I never stopped), so I knew I needed to get another bottle on board at the next aid station.
Just after the low water crossing, a police officer told me there was a rider down ahead, and medical crew in the road. I thanked him and started watching ahead, and sure enough there was a big cluster of activity in the middle of the road up ahead. As I got closer, I noticed that it was right at the aid station. And I remembered I needed to get more fluids from the aid station. So I pulled out my main water bottle to toss/replace it. Then I remembered I had no rear drink at all, and so I should keep my still-maybe-half-full main water bottle and just get a new bottle for the rear cage. Except now I was almost right up to the wreck, and going way too fast. So I had to brake, but I had a water bottle in my right hand, so I put my bottled hand up on the handlebars and grabbed the brakes with my left hand. Way too hard. And almost did an endo. And my handlebars turned sharply to the left. And I very nearly flipped went down straight on top of the person already crashed in the road. And somehow.. SOMEHOW.. I managed to right my handlebars, right myself, swerve around the wreck and not fall. It was close enough that the medical guy chastised me for coming so close, which he had every reason to do. AND on top of all that.. I even managed to grab a water bottle from the last guy at the aid station and shove it in my back cage. And then I spent the next 5 minutes shaking, full of adrenaline, and berating myself for my stupidity. Somehow in all that, I also managed to whack the fleshy part of my palm against.. something.. and bruise it most painfully.
(And I later came to find out that it was Michelle, off of whom I drafted on the swim, who I would have come crashing down on top of. And I'm sure her fractured clavicle would not have appreciated that at all.)
Happy to say that the rest of the bike was largely uneventful in comparison. I was definitely slower this loop, and a little bit concerned that I had pushed too hard on the bike and it was going to impact my run. But also happy that I had pushed on the bike, and there's no way to find that line if you don't push it, I suppose.
Oh, as one final bit of stupidity.. evidently I'd never before had a crappy disposable plastic water bottle in my rear bottle cage before. I've had crappy disposable plastic Gatorade/Perform bottles in there, but those are significantly sturdier. At one point in the last few miles, I pulled that bottle out, drank some water, then reached around to shove the bottle back in the cage, and .. couldn't. I normally do this by feel, since I can't see the cages, and the plastic was so flimsy that when I'd shove the bottle where I thought the holder was, it would just sorta crumple. I honestly couldn't tell when I had the bottle positioned over the holder. And after 3 or 4 tries, I was becoming convinced that I was going to end up wedging the bottle into my wheel, or between the wheel and the holder, where it would then fall through. I considered just tossing the bottle on the side of the road, but even without anyone out there to see me doing it, I couldn't make myself litter. So I one-handedly sprinted my way up to the guy up the road, pulled up beside him, and said, "Uh, hi, I have a strange request. Can you help me get my bottle into the bottlecage?" then pulled up ahead of him a little to demonstrate what I was asking. He kinda laughed, then said, "Toward me a little bit.. right there," and that did it! I thanked him, telling him I was tremendously embarrassed but very appreciative.
But after THAT, things were uneventful for the rest of the ride. Back into town again for the last time. Unlike last year, this year I knew roughly where the dismount line was, so got my feet out of my shoes in plenty of time, and hopped off the bike right at the line.
T2
I ran my bike into transition, and had that weird moment of disorientation that comes with a two-transition triathlon, where you've not actually been here before, but you still have to figure out where your stuff is. Fortunately we'd counted rows the day before, and I knew I was on the 9th row, because we spent like 15 minutes saying, "Nein! Nein!" and laughing at ourselves. I was glad our stupidity came in handy.
Found the neinth row, ran down to the far end, and there was Pam's bike, right next to my bag! I had to remove my bag to rack my bike, which was super, super easy and convenient, then reluctantly untied my bag.
I had put my shoes and socks in a plastic grocery bag and tied it as shut as you can half-heartedly tie a grocery bag, but I hadn't made any effort to tie the outer bag to keep water out. And it had rained the night before. Poured. Deluged. I figured I'd have 3 inches of standing water in my bag, and soaking wet shoes and socks. But.. they weren't. They were fine. Dry. As was my visor, which I KNEW had to be drenched. Nope. Dry. Huh.
Putting on my socks and shoes felt extremely awkward, and like it took half an hour, but I got them on, put my visor on, then grabbed my ziploc bag full of gu and salt and headed out for the run, shoving the bag in my pocket on the way.
I was trying not to dwell on my time during this race, but I happened to glance down at my watch as I hit split to begin my run, and it said my total time was 3:50. If I could run a 2 hour half marathon, I could come in sub-6. But I had never yet had a half marathon at the end of a half Ironman that I felt reflected my ability to run.
Run 13.1 miles
My stomach felt a little iffy as I left transition, and I considered hitting the portapotty just past the aid station, but decided it wasn't too bad, and I'd wait to see what happened. My nutrition plan called for eating a gu at the beginning of my run, but that sounded REALLY unappealing, and I'd just eaten 2 CliffBlocks about 10 minutes ago, so I decided to wait until my stomach settled a bit to start eating.
I passed Carol shortly after I started running, and she asked if I knew if Karen was okay. I hadn't seen Karen (which was normal, since she started before me and is much faster on the bike), so I said I had no idea, and she said something about her looking bad or having stopped or something. Not good. But then a short time later, I saw Pam, who'd been having knee pain on the bike and was afraid she'd have to DNF. I cheered for her, happy to see her still going! And she said she'd only done one bike loop. Gah. Tough day out there.
But I pushed all that aside, because I had to run my own race. And first I had to get my damn feet to cooperate. They were slightly numb from the bike, which is not abnormal for me, but running is really awkward until full feeling comes back, so I just concentrated on turnover and forward motion. And cheering! Man, I don't love a run that's 4 loops, but I do love a run where I get to cheer for my friends and spectators basically nonstop for 13 miles. So much fun.
Fun! Except I hate it when thighs do that in running pictures. Creepy.
Photo by Kristen Carey
I spent the first loop just settling in and feeling out the loop. It was slightly different from last year, because they took the trail portion out (THANKFULLY), but added another hill. On the second loop, I finally convinced myself to take my ziploc bag out of my back pocket and at least take out a gu and hold it, in case I should want to eat. I also made myself take a salt pill. It was still overcast and pleasant, but I didn't want to give cramps any reason to show up.
Around mile 4, I slowly caught up to Kristi, who was one loop ahead of me. As I pulled up beside her, I said, "Okay, the plan is for you to stay with me. That's the plan." And she agreed, and matched pace with me! Yay! That so rarely actually works!
Now I had company, which always makes things more pleasant!
We approached an aid station, and I knew I was at around 40 minutes, which is when I should be taking my SECOND gu, and I still hadn't taken one. So while Kristi ran over to get an orange slice, I tore the lid off my gu and ate a little, and immediately gagged. Crap. I knew I needed the calories, though, so I squeezed the rest into my mouth and swallowed it as quickly as possible, then grabbed water to wash it down, gagging all the while. But it stayed inside. And I knew that I couldn't take anymore gu without disastrous results. So looks like I'd be switching to Coke for my calories for the rest of the run!
Kristi and I were keeping a really good pace and I was having a great time. I kept cheering for the people I knew, and at one point we passed a guy who said, "Do you know EVERYONE?!" And I admitted that.. basically I did. And I asked him what his name was, so that I could cheer for him, too. It was Justin. Except I never actually saw Justin's FACE, since he was behind me for this whole conversation, so I never got to cheer for him. Uh, sorry, Justin!
We finished my second loop, and then all Kristi had left was one final loop! I tried to concentrate on being excited for her, rather than dwelling on the fact that I still had two left. Except at some point, I ended up pulling ahead of her slowly, and then I was alone again. But things were still good. I was drinking lots of water, dumping water on my head, cheering, high-fiving friends (and how fabulous it was to see my husband smiling each time I saw him, obviously enjoying his race), running, having a lovely time.
Hi again, Tom!
Photo by Multisport Photography
And then maybe 3/4 of the way through my third loop, things started getting harder. I was still running well, but it was taking more effort. And those two hills got steeper. And many of the people I was cheering for were heading into the finish line on their final loop. And I still had an entire other loop to go if I ever finished this one. And how was that even possible? Whose idea was it to make this run four loops?
As I finished loop 3, Logan asked me over the PA how many loops I had left, and I held up one finger. Just one victory loop. Except man, I was so done.
On that last loop, people kept telling me I looked great, looked strong, and I kept yelling back, ".. and yet I feel like shit!" with a smile on my face. I'm not sure people believed me, but I was SO DONE. I think a large part of it was just lack of calories. I was drinking Coke at some aid stations, but it wasn't enough to really keep me going, just enough to barely stave off a complete bonk. BUT.. I held it together. I have no idea what my paces were for any of the loops, and I'm sure I probably slowed down by the last one, but I managed to keep going, stay strong, stay positive (if I'd stopped responding to people and cheering for them, that would have been a bad sign.. if I'm still able to smile and tell people how shitty I feel, I'm probably doing okay).
I made an extra point to thank all of the volunteers and spectators on my last loop, and tried to focus on being mentally strong, and when I saw Matt, Betsy and David cheering on the road near the finish line, I tried to pick it up and give whatever I had left. Tore around the corner, around the corner again, and there was the finish line. Threw my arms up in the air, then laughed as I watched the finish line volunteers desperately trying to get the tape repositioned after the last finisher, get tangled up together, then finally get it stretched out just as I crossed the finish line.
Results
Matt came and found me immediately, and asked me what I needed. And what I needed was just to keep walking. I felt pretty bad at first, and as I walked and took in some water, I finally looked at my watch, and realized why I felt so bad.
I knew my previous best half Ironman time was somewhere around a 5:54. My watch said 5:43. Over a 10 minute PR! Exactly what I wanted.. to look at my watch and have blown it out of the water. I was overjoyed. And exhausted.
Swim: 36:45 (1:54/M)
T1: 1:36
Bike: 3:10:30 (17.6MPH)
T2: 2:00
Run: 1:52:20 (8:35/M)
Total: 5:43:12
The swim wasn't a PR (which was 34:12 at Vineman), but was a solid time (and Jamie says he thinks the swim was long, but who knows). Only one person in my age group who was ahead of me overall swam faster than I did.
My transitions were both solid, even though my T2 felt so slow, and both were up at the top of my age group.
My run. My run! Finally a time I'm really proud of! I was running by feel, and never looked at my watch. And my run felt hard. But now I know why! Because I was running hard. I'm pretty damn happy with that run. It's definitely something I need to keep in check for Ironman Florida, though. I can't afford to run that hard that early in an Ironman. I need to keep my effort in check, and my nutrition under control, or I'll be walking by the end. 6th in my age group for the run. (A 5 minute PR over my 1:57:50 in New Orleans.)
And then the bike. On the minus side, I was 11th in my age group on the bike, which knocked me way down in the standings. On the plus side.. I averaged 17.6mph for 56 miles, which is fantastic for me! I'd love to be able to hang with the top 3 girls in my age group who all averaged over 20mph, but that's just not where my strengths lie. (And I DID outswim 2 of them and outrun 2 of them.) It WAS a 4 minute PR over my previous best of 3:14:08 at New Orleans.
And let's see if we can tell, based on my 5 mile average speed splits, where the tailwinds were!
20.3mph, 20.1, 19.0, 16.4, 15.8, 17.0, 20.0, 19.8, 16.1, 15.4, 15.3
That's by far the longest I've ever averaged 20mph! And hey, not a single 5 mile block under 15mph.
At the end of the day, 8th of 24 in my age group, so nowhere near the podium, but DAMN my age group was tough. If I'd been in any other age group, younger or older, I would have placed higher.
And yet I'm elated with the results, and very excited to take my solid training, add 5 more weeks on top of it, and see what I'm able to pull off in Florida!