I haven't written a race report since my Lake Placid Ironman last year and I didn't think I would write this one... but I decided I had to for therapeutic reasons. I need to record the facts so I can stop ripping myself to shreds for what could have been and eke out the victories that were there, despite my uncharacteristically negative headspace.
(EDIT: I just realized this is the first race I've ever done without caffeine!)
The weekend overall was chilly, with scattered showers (including a downpour I got caught in while heading to the Ironman Singles meetup). A large portion was spent debating what to wear to avoid hypothermia, especially during the 6 mile descent into Keene. After talking to a couple of the wonderful guys at High Peaks Bike shop and purchasing some gloves, I was convinced it wouldn't be that bad. I also was happy to finally check High Falls Gorge off my site-seeing bucket list with Ann and her mother (Her mom was such a trooper, having just come off foot surgery two months ago!) and it was great to catch up with Devon, Parker and Kelly, Keith, and others. The Adirondacks (especially the town of Lake Placid) are one of my favorite places to visit, but parking is scarce and every walk requires considerable climbing. I was happy I got the opportunity to climb into my Normatechs Friday night.
Ann and I did a race run-through Saturday morning with a 20 minute swim (water temp: 62 degrees F, air temp: 46!) in the rain, followed by a very dirty, wet, 30 minute bike ride and a great 10 minute run. Ann had an extra pair of arm warmers she let me borrow and they seemed to do their job well. (must add to shopping list!) We also discovered that it was, in fact, possible to take off a bathing suit and change into a sports bra while wet without flashing anyone, so the plan shifted from swimming in a sports bra, to doing a complete change in transition. At the athlete briefing, they spoke of warming tents at the swim exit, and a heated school bus and vans at the bottom of the Keene descent and encouraged us to stop and warm up if needed. The sun finally started to peek out when we dropped our bikes off, and I was starting to get excited!
I had been trying to carb load (carbloat) but was not as effective as I had been before the Lake Placid full IM last year. I really hate how it makes me feel; bloated, slow, and heavy. I need to prep everything in advance and have it portioned out and stay on schedule or it all goes downhill quickly. And not in the fun way. I ate lots of rice with dinner and hoped for the best.
When I got to bodymarking, I realized my mistake. Without Tri Tats, I still had to be marked. Which meant I had to take my wetsuit off and put it back on. Grumblegrumblegrumble. The volunteer was super helpful and patient, however, of which I was very appreciative. And then we were off to set up transition.
On my way to the swim start, I lost Ann but found Parker and Kelly. And Ann eventually found her way back to us.
THE SWIM:
The swim start took FOREVER. By the time we got in the water, my feet were aching with cold and
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| Every Angle was an obstacle...err... person |
Final Swim Time: 48:08
T1:
When I came out of the water, I felt good. I skipped the wetsuit strippers because the idea of running with bare skin in 40 degrees while wet sounded like torture. I saw the warming tent and was torn... do I stop and warm my hands and feet before running to transition? I went inside... and then decided it was better to keep moving. My hands and feet were relatively warm and functional after swimming. Though the .4 mile run to transition felt good cardiovascularly, the ground felt so cold. They had laid out rugs for us to run on, but the rugs were soaked and cold. Once I reached the Olympic oval, the rugs ran out and the ground was freezing! By the time I reached my bike, my feet were completely numb and running felt awkward. I did a quick surf change, took off my wet bathing suit, and put on a dry sports bra, my tri kit, arm warmers, full gloves with handwarmers tucked inside (and an extra handwarmer in my top for insurance), and my thermal windbreaker and booties. I also opted for fluffier running socks instead of my swiftwicks. I had prepped a quart sized bag of rice balls the night before (calrose rice, chopped dates, peanut butter, and salt) and ate some before hopping on my bike. Saw Keith Lefkof in transition. And I was off!
T1 time: 16:43
THE BIKE:
Getting on the bike was COLD! I forgot that the first mile or so out of transition is downhill. I decided to take it easy during the first 5-10 miles to warm up, but my muscles felt really stiff from the cold. The mile out and back to Bobsled run was a steeper grade than I expected as well. I was relieved though when I realized I already had feeling back in my fingers before the descent into Keene. I knew that would be the worst of it when it came to the potential of hypothermia. I was a little disappointed when a police car on the course blocked my way towards the bottom (and finally in Smooth Pavement Land!) and caused me to brake, preventing me from reaching max speed, but I was happy to see that I still hit 41.6mph (I had a goal to break 40mph and a hope of breaking 45mph.). With the traffic that I usually encounter along that stretch during training, I find it difficult to exceed 40 and stay safe. I only saw one wipeout on the descent and he was walking, so I hope whoever was in the ambulance was ok.
When I got to the bottom of the descent, I ran into an unexpected surprise... I had planned to pop inside the warm bus for a bit and assess my hands and feet... but I didn't see a bus or vans anywhere. Not sure if I was race blind? Or if they just weren't there? Ann couldn't find them either. Still uncertain what happened there. I saw people cheering, state troopers, some folks with a table set up with hot coffee and the fixin's... but no heated bus. Oh well. Moving on. I also became aware that the crimson wave I was surfing was turning into a flood. At the first bike aide station I searched for coverage to no avail. Hoping for the best, I kept moving.
My new Selle SMP saddle seemed to already be considerably less painful than the torture device I was riding previously, but even on our test ride the day before, my muscles felt... different... worked in a way they hadn't been before. What are you going to do, though? I pressed forward. At least the sun was coming out. And as it came out, I could feel myself sweating profusely under my layers, but the wind was so cold, I didn't want to risk taking anything off.
I finally found tampons around mile 40. Men are so lucky they don't have to deal with that, and I couldn't help but think that not only has no man has ever completed a half-ironman bleeding profusely from start to finish, but if they DID, no one would ever hear the end of it. And yet, as women, we deal with this monthly and no one speaks of it at all, or they do in hushed tones and in code. A bit absurd if you ask me.
As I rode, I noticed a lack of enthusiasm that I usually only experience when my blood sugar is tanking... but my rice balls only seemed to mildly alleviate this. I was so grateful to bump into Devon heading towards Whiteface, on one of my favorite sections of the course. "It's YOU!" I heard as we passed each other. It was such a pleasant surprise! I promised she would catch me on the next climb which she did. I was also happy to notice that the feeling had finally come back into my feet. However, my knees were aching from all the climbing. I recollected how good I felt the previous Saturday when I rode 43 miles of the course and wondered if that was the best idea. Did I burn out my legs last week? Should I have taken taper a little more seriously?
Right before the Bears, I heard a chain drop and noticed a woman stop in front of me. I was just about to pass her and noticed her gazing at her bike looking quite overwhelmed. We had about 6 miles to go and I knew I had time. "Need some help?" She gratefully took my coaching as I talked her through how to put it back on. It only took a few minutes and I knew I wasn't breaking any records that day, so I was happy to help.
As I came back into town, I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between the crowds for this race and my full last year. Where thousands of people had been roaring, there were only scattered hundreds.
Final Bike Time: 4:19:46
T2:
I felt ok coming into transition. I was excited to start the run, despite feeling discouraged watching finishers coming down the shoot. I felt really undertrained for the bike and I was kicking my own ass. I ditched my windbreaker, gloves and booties, but kept the arm warmers as I felt easily chilled. I hadn't finished my rice so I brought it with me on the run. Also traded out my tampon again and hated being female. *grumpgrumpgrump*
T2 time: 8:04
THE RUN:
I felt pretty good at the start of this run. I was watching my form and people kept complimenting my pace and form. I bumped into a lot of folks I knew running back towards the finish line as I was heading out. I ran with Keith for a bit before, noting my time, I decided to head on without him. It was great to get an enthusiastic greeting from Ann, and Stacey accused me of bringing the Sunshine which made me smile. I saw Paulo (looking strong!) as well. Around mile 4, though, my enthusiasm abandoned me. My body wasn't hurting as much as my spirit was. I tried making friends on the course, but my heart wasn't in it. My serratus anterior started cramping. I took some base salt. But when my bladder started burning, I was DONE. I drank at every aid station, mostly water, trying to get my bladder back online. At mile 4.5, I told myself I was only 2 miles from the turnaround (not realizing it was actually closer) and decided I could force myself to run at least that far. I made a few friends who dragged me forward (one was from Red Bank!) but I sent Red Bank on without me when my colon decided to join my bladder's protests. I finally stopped in a portapotty around mile 9. I sat there, sorting out my life in that moment. I could bail on this race, or I could rally. I did some NET during my time out, using the FAST technique, and finally came out ready to see what I could salvage. I had 4 miles left and as I looked at my watch, I realized that if I didn't run, I wouldn't make the cutoff. I could DO this. So I told my bladder to STFU and I started to run. And I started to pass people. And folks started to tell me I was looking strong again. I wanted to stop so badly... and I did for moments. But only for moments. And I pushed forward. Those last couple miles were hell. But I steeled myself, locked my gaze on the horizon, and channeled my inner honey badger.
As I was coming down the shoot, I saw Parker, Kelly, and Ann going berserk cheering, and my heart was so happy to know that they were sending all that love my way.And when I crossed the finish line, I heard the announcer say, "Jenn, you're going to be very happy with your time." And I knew I had made it.
Final Run Time: 2:56:17
POST RACE PERSPECTIVE:
There were some things that were missing for this race. First of all, I never want to race during a crimson tidal wave EVER AGAIN. Second, it will be quite some time before I go coachless for a season again. I felt so
Finally, something that was overwhelmingly lacking during this race was gratitude. I was not as PRESENT as I have been in the past. I was not as mindful. I spent other races praying for others, talking to God, and focusing on how lucky I was to be there. This one... not so much. And as a result, my experience held an uncomfortable emptiness. I think it's time to commit to some quiet time and get back in touch with my soul again, because that lesson, like many that come from racing, doesn't just apply to triathlon - it applies to LIFE.
Till next time!
Total Time: 8:28:56
