2015 Mini-Tri "World Championships" Race Report

While I usually wouldn't bother writing a race report for a Mini-Tri, Dr. Z. was sherpa-ing since he raced the day before and photos + wearing a number = RACE REPORT.

Mentally I wasn't into it at all heading there thanks to some other issues I have going on right now (that I may or may not end up talking about). I packed up my stuff after work and just hoped that once the gun went off I'd find my racing happy place.

Totally unplanned superhero pose.

Set up my transition and got in the water almost immediately after putting on my wetsuit because after what was a cold, rainy week last week has turned into blistering hot, sunny weather.

Right before the gun - found my smile.

The gun went off and I actually immediately found feet - a true rarity for me because I swim so slowly. I actually was with a group the entire time. I wish the feet I found had been a bit faster but in general was happy with my swim, especially when I came out of the water right behind my friend Bill. As it turns out I swam a 10:08, which was okay but I really thought I had broken 10 minutes.

T1 went really well - my wetsuit didn't stick (for once), I didn't lose my balance trying to get on my shoes (for once), and I was out of there in a smoking 71 seconds, making for a very happy IronHobbit heading out onto the bike.

The bike course was different than usual thanks to construction on River Road. Instead of doing the usual loop from 86-River Road-73, we went down 86, turned around right at the construction on River Road, and climbed back up the Three Bears. Ooof. I felt great for the first half despite the legs not feeling very spunky and thought I was holding my own, but at the turnaround I saw that Bill was right on my tail. I've been beating him on the bike this year, so that's when I started thinking my ride wasn't that great after all. We hit the Bears and that's when I REALLY feel the effects of basically sitting on my ass for three weeks straight. I get passed by a group like I'm sitting still.  When my friend Anna (Bill's daughter) passes me on the bike on the way to T2, I really feel that I had a lousy ride since she's a runner who usually smokes me on the run after I crush her on the bike. As it turns out, I still rode under 39 minutes, which while it's hard to judge because of the changed course, I was second AG  and top third women for the ride. (I would find out later that Bill and Anna both had breakthrough days.)

LOL at this expression. 

So I hit T2 and although I THOUGHT I was really quick, my time was 37 seconds, which is slow for me at this race. Still - a total of 1:48 for both transitions isn't too bad - I try to keep the total under two minutes.

Heading out to the run was really ugly. My legs felt like crap. I just told myself "run as slowly as you need to, just don't walk) - a fine strategy that will still get you a good split in an Ironman (or even Half Ironman), but not in a sprint. Although I beat Anna out of transition she flew by me right away (totally expected even on a good day), but I had hopes I could catch Bill, which I usually can if I don't beat him off the bike. (For the record, Anna is not in my AG and Bill obviously isn't even the right GENDER, but I like using people as "carrots" during sprints to get myself to hurt as much as possible.) I finally see him near the turnaround, but I haven't really put any time into him. I'm so happy to see that cone because the way back is almost all downhill. I'm able to pick up my speed, although I don't pass anyone, but never even SEE Bill. I cross the finish and am SHOCKED to read 1:16 on my watch. Bill usually comes in around 1:20, so I was thinking I had a very slow day.

Just finishing. (Actual run pics were all blurry because of the low light.)

After nearly collapsing (as usual), I drink my Osmo while cooling my legs in the lake. Chatting with Bill, I found out that he "felt good" today and as for Anna, she had a major breakthrough ride. Good for her - her entire FAMILY are amazing triathletes. Unfortunately although it was my second-fastest time ever, my age group was really deep and my always-slow swim cost me a podium spot. (3rd place girl was less than a minute ahead but out swam me by a whopping-for-400-meters two minutes). A time that would usually have me second or so landed me 4/6 for my AG. Hat tip to all you fast ladies!

All smiles post-race.

And with that, the triathlon season comes to a close. I can't complain about a season that saw me PR all distances I did - Olympic, the Mini-Tri (by a HUGE two minutes), and Ironman by nearly an hour.  Next one will be the Florida 70.3 in April. (And if you think I'm terrified of a first triathlon of the season that's a Half, my first OWS of the year, and probably not even wetsuit-legal, you would be correct. This will FORCE me to work out my swim problems.)

Next up, the Mohawk-Hudson marathon. Fall is is for RUNNING!

IMLP Race Report - The Run

So I head out on the run and although my stomach feels awful, my legs feel....amazing. Ridiculously so. Unlike last time where I had to mostly walk the first couple miles, I'm immediately able to break into a trot and hit my target HR.

I do walk through the first aid station, still in troubleshooting mode and going to my "Upset Tummy" nutrition protocol: Water and pretzels. Unfortunately the pretzels really dry out my mouth and I can barely swallow them down even with the water. However, I'm able to keep on running despite knowing the bill will come due, and those first 10km go BRILLIANTLY.  I'm hitting my HR (except walking through the aid stations trying to fix my stomach), and the mile splits I see are making me happy indeed. I see a SUB-TEN mile at one point.

Unfortunately I start slowing down after the first River Road turnaround. I manage to make the first loop in under 2:30, putting me in place for a big IM marathon PR, but things have gotten UGLY. I spent the first three or four miles or the second loop mostly walking while literally holding my stomach.

At mile 16 I stop at the medical aid station and ask if they have anything they can give me. All I end up with is Tums (which I had on me anyway, but I took theirs since they hadn't been in the sweaty back pocket of a tri top all day). The Tums didn't help much, but I meet this IMLP's "Ironman Run Buddy." She's sitting in the tent with stomach issues of her own after crushing the swim and bike, we get to talking, and decide to work together to minimize the carnage.

We talk about everything, run when we can, walk when necessary. Peeks at my Garmin (which thankfully wasn't showing pace) tell me that any HR over MAF-5 is tummy no-no. I keep trying different foods and drinks at the aid stations - the chicken broth literally makes me gag, the acid from the orange slices makes my stomach hurt more. (All things that had fed me well and gotten me through my first Ironman marathon.

We see a lot of other walkers while we're going - not too unusual at this point, but I see people who I know and usually finish in sub-12, and several people we speak to are usually Kona finishers but having too many stomach issues to run. So I'm not going to "blame" the water, but there were definitely more stomach issues this year than in other years.

At the last turnaround on Mirror Lake Drive, I have been almost all walking when I look at Garmin again and realize that if I run the rest of the way I'd still get a marathon PR. I manage to run at a walking pace and it is probably the hardest couple miles I've ever jogged.

I really am there with my Ironbuddy about to do our last out-and-and back on Mirror Lake Drive

I hit Main Street and it's time to take the right into the Oval instead of the left to do another lap - just like last time, it doesn't feel like I can already be done. I get this stupid huge grin on my face and we entire the Oval of Magic. My run buddy runs ahead and I can't keep up, but it is still the most magical 200 meters of my life. I see the lights and the finish arch and start pumping my fists as Mike Reilly calls me an Ironman for the second time.

Heading to the finish - realizing a marathon PR is in reach.

At the finish line, I just have nothing left and collapse. I am immediately put in a wheelchair and wheeled to Medical. My friend Hannah, whom I haven't seen since she was in single digits, is working the finish line and sees me to the tent. The doctors in Medical are amazing - they check my weight, take my vitals, and give me a prescription anti-emetic which allows me to at least start drinking a Sprite again. They didn't think an IV was necessary, which was fine by me since I have lousy veins. After a while, I'm feeling better and my legs are cramping up painfully (immediately lying down after Ironman = OUCH), so they let me sign myself out. I assume I've been in there for 15 minutes or so, but Dr. Z., who has been waiting outside, informs me that it's been closer to an hour. Wow.

After that, I am happy but completely wiped, so unlike 2012 when I stayed and partied at the finish line, I miss my first late-night finish line since I've moved here and just go home. And that's the story of how I managed a 51-minute Ironman PR despite the heat and as one friend so awesomely put it, "being poisoned."

Although a bit disappointed that I didn't meet my "A" goal of sub-15, I am very happy with how I never gave up trying to troubleshoot my GI issues, even though they started early in the day and I fought them for a good 13 hours. I feel like it shows how much I've grown as an athlete. After 2012, I swore I was a "one and done" bucket lister, but while Ironman is definitely NOT on the books for next season, I can see myself coming back in a few years to give it another try with the run I know I have in me.

IMLP Race Report - The Bike

So I fly down Colden and then just try to settle. I see people out of their saddle climbing up Cascade Pass, and I think to myself, "They do know there's 110 more miles, right?" I keep my watts on the low side the entire first half of the first loop. And by "low side" I mean 20 watts below target. Sounds crazy, but with the back half of each loop being 20 miles of climbing, I want to play it extra conservative. I'm passing a lot of people and feeling good and "in control" - a rare feeling in an Ironman. The only issue is that my stomach isn't very happy. Not nauseated, just a bit queasy and super not interested in eating. I usually look forward to that break every 15 minutes to sit up and soft pedal a bit, but this time I kind of groan when it's time to eat.

All smiles starting the ride.

When I start climbing up from Jay, I'm definitely happy I kept it so easy the first half of the loop. I make it up Papa Bear with my cheer squad going nuts, and stop at special needs with a blistering (for me) 3:43 split for the first loop. However, I know that I'm in trouble with my stomach. As it happens, my friend Jeff is working Special Needs and I get to wave my tampons all around him fishing out my Pepto tablets, which I'm SO SO glad Coach Jenni convinced me to bring. (I usually don't have GI issues, so don't carry them as a rule.) I decided against the Pringles, figuring that since they don't sound any more appetizing than my usual wafers and chews I might as well stick with what I've been using in training.

Bombing down Colden to start the second loop.

I go around the Hot Corner by Lisa G's where they're blasting "Shut Up and Dance" (i.e. the song I've been playing on repeat this training cycle) and between that and my split I'm feeling pretty happy despite the Thunder Down Under in my tummy.

I nail the Cascade Pass descent even better than the first time. (I found out later when I looked at the data that I hit 44 MPH. Holy CRAP.) This makes me very happy as I am a descending wuss usually, but today I fly by people both times.

When I hit the flats from Keene to Ausable a second time, I'm definitely not feeling as perky. I've been on the bike for 4.5 hours, still have another 20 miles of climbing after I finish this section, and in addition to having to force food down it's getting really hot.  I start spending a lot of time up on the pursuit bars, my watts are going down, down, down, instead of the original plan to raise them up to target power, and in general I'm quite miserable.  I'm so relieved every time it's time to stop at an aid station for ice cold water down the back and in my Aerodrink.

A little blurry, but definitely not quite so happy here.

My stomach is getting bad enough that I switch to water - I just can't stomach Skratch anymore, and my eating is getting further and further apart. I finally give up at mile 90 as I don't want to puke while climbing and hope I can get calories in on the run. In addition, I don't even want to think what's going on in my shorts. The whole plan of Magic Bike Shorts and chamois cream didn't take dumping water all over myself into account and there is Major Chafing.

Those last 20 miles definitely have a lot of tears. My friends Darci and Billy scream up a storm for me while I climb the Wall, which definitely helps. By the time I finally cross the timing mat, I just burst into tears. Again. My friend Diana is working transition and gives me a much-needed hug and helps me to my bag. (This is why I'll always do IMLP despite the insane bike course - being a local is amazing.)

Coming to the timing mat. About 10 seconds from bawling. Ironman is HARD.

Bike: 7:51 (45 minute PR), 86 AG, 501 Woman, 2009 Overall.

In T2 I change into my run shorts and get out of there pretty quickly, as always ever so grateful to be off the bike. Although I still put on my Fuel Belt with my Skratch and gels, I already know I'm probably not going to touch it at all.

T2: 5:42 (Whopping-for-transition 4 minute PR thanks to my complete mental breakdown barely making the cutoff last time.)

IMLP Race Report - The Swim

Alarm went off at 4:00. I slammed down my first cup of coffee and got dressed, my kit carefully laid out the day before, of course. Because of all my OCD prep work, it didn't take long to be ready to head out the door, special needs bags, pump, swim gear, and breakfast in hand.

First stop was body marking. Just like 2012 I ate while the dude got busy with a Sharpie. I may or may not have spilled more than a few grains of rice on his head. 

Next stop was transition. This took approximately 234,029 times longer than it should have because that short valve on my rear tube was just not cooperating. After multiple tries that resulted in deflating it entirely, I finally got it up to 90 PSI and was good to go.

After that, I met my good friend Wes near the beach. We started together in 2012 and although he would be seeding himself further up than me in the new "streaming" start, it was good to see him before the race. He does the race every year and his calmness definitely helped me.

Pre-race is always better with a friend.

After kicking around and chatting for awhile, it was time to get in the water and then line up. I took one last photo with Dr. Z., gave him a kiss, and dove into the sea of people massed around the beach.

This IS his happy face.

I waded into the water and while the temperature was just fine, I got an inkling of the first major issue of the day. The water was completely contaminated from the fire the night before. They had tested the water that morning, but it was brown and had a scary chemical taste. I went right into troubleshooting mode but the only things I could come up with were "Rinse out your mouth with Skratch the second you get on the bike" and "Try to swallow as little water as possible." I was unhappy, but didn't freak out, which is a big step for me.

My massage therapist Tim managed to find me in line (I have no idea how he did that), and I got one last friendly hug before the wait began. The cannon boomed and...

,...nothing.

I had seeded myself near the front of the 1:45-2:00 group, and we didn't even move for the first five minutes or so, which seems an eternity when you're waiting to start an Ironman. After 15 minutes we finally hit the water, and it was the most insane battering I have ever taken in a race. I was also having trouble getting into the right mindset. I was totally over swimming before we even hit the first turnaround. Yes, I was near the buoy but I just couldn't find a good way to get around or away from people.

One thing I love about the IMLP swim is that you can slowly hear Mike Reilly's voice get louder and louder as you get closer to shore. I was so happy to finish my first loop but also not looking forward to having to do a second one. I wasn't tired or anything, just mentally not in "GRRRRR" mode and sick of all the contact, not to mention the disgusting water.

The second loop I tried to put a little more "Oomph" into my stroke and find feet, all part of my race plan, but while I "dated around" I never did find any feet that really worked for me.

When I finally hit land again and saw 2:03 or so on the race clock, I was horrified and pissed. Although it turns out I had PRed by a few seconds, I had misjudged when I got in the water and thought I had swam a 1:50.  Swimming about the same as 2012 was still very disappointing giving my open water times in training.

Matters weren't helped when my wetsuit got stuck and even the peelers had trouble, which used up more time. In fact, the band of my lap watch (which I was using for race time) got messed up, and since it was no longer displaying the race clock properly anyways, I handed it off to Dr. Z. as I ran towards T1.

I look pissed off (I am) and 50 (I'm not).

Swim: 1:46:18, 96 AG, 593 Women, 2208 OA. (Yes, I know. One of the last out of the water.

So grabbed my bag and ran into the change tent. This year I decided take the time to wear the Magic Bike Shorts and use chamois cream in hopes of being more comfortable and minimizing damage to the undercarriage. It made for a very slow (for me) transition, but my helper was awesome and got me out of there as quickly as she could. Unfortunately I did have to wait for my bike a bit, but soon enough I was rolling. Quickly rinsed out my mouth as planned and on my way for a little 112 mile spin.

T1: 7:53 (The only split I DIDN'T PR.)

2014 Big George 70.3 Race Report

So. Over a month ago, I raced my fifth 70.3. On what I thought would be a fast swim course (much better sighting and less chop than Tinman), a fast, flat bike course, and a hilly run course. As it turned out, not so much. Except for the hilly run course.

(Ugh, the GOOD races are SO much easier to write about...)

Saturday: So Dr. Z and I packed all our (okay, mostly MY since I was the one racing) in the car and headed down to Lake George. I was immediately put on edge by the hordes of cars and pedestrians in this very much a tourist town for the holiday weekend. Reason #454381 why I don't understand why the race directors moved the race to Labor Day weekend a few years ago. We go to packet pickup (lots of swag - Yay! Cheap t-shirt instead of cute baseball hoodies this year - Boo!), check in the bike (one thing the race does RIGHT - one less thing to do in the morning), and finally check into the hotel. I call Coach Karen and we arrange to pick her up at her hotel and head out for dinner.

For the life of me I can't remember the name of the restaurant we ate at, but it was DELICIOUS! (I'm one of these people that although I have a "pre-race meal" that I always cook if I'm at home, I really CAN eat whatever the night before a race.) After that, we went back to the hotel and I spent the rest of the evening filling water bottles of Skratch for pre-race, bike, and run. Since it was an early start, we went to bed early and I actually slept pretty well.

Pre-Race: We were up at Ugly O'Clock for the 7 a.m. start, even with having everything laid out, bottles filled, and bike checked. I got dressed, nuked my usual eggs and rice that I had brought with me (hooray hotel fridge and microwave), and we headed out to the Dunkin Donuts that was supposedly right down the highway on the way to the race. We finally figure out it's a "Self Serve" Dunkin' in a HESS. Nastiest coffee EVER. THANKS, Google Maps. Lesson learned.

We get there and after some drama with parking, I get my chip (I really wish races would start putting these in the packet pickup packages. Once again, it would be one less thing to do on race morning), and set up my transition area. The entire time, I'm freaking the fuck out because it's windy. REALLY windy. And it's NEVER windy in the morning here, but there it is. While I consider it a minor nuisance on a flat bike route, I'm looking at the lake and I'm petrified of the swim.

I warm up, get some photos with Coach, and it's time to get in the corral.

My coach, ladies and gentlemen. LOVE this photo! LOL!

Swim: The horn goes off, and at first it's not bad. 

For the first 400 yards or so the water's not still, but it's not as choppy as I feared, and for once in my life I have GREAT feet to hang on to. Then, a nasty wake from a powerboat hits me from the side and I freak. I sit up, panicked, losing the feet, and actually start to wave a kayak over because I don't think there's any way I can finish this swim. The swells calm down,  I wave her off, and get going again. By now I'm way behind everyone, especially since my wave was the second-to-last to go off.

At this point, the chop is there, and it is FRIGHTENING. I just keep eyeing all the safety boats around, and knowing I can bail out any time helps me to keep going just a little further, just a little further. I hit the final turnaround on the "U"-shaped course to head back to shore, and a kayaker points out a light for me to sight off. Thank GOD, because even WITH something to sight I kept getting pulled waaaaaaaaay over to the right thanks to the chop. I would have otherwise ended up on the coast of Ireland or something.

A GREAT picture considering what an awful swim I had.

I come tearing out of the water. I have no idea what my time is (and thank GOD because if I had SEEN my terrible time that would have tanked me for the entire race), but I know it's Very Not Good. I run by Coach and Dr. Z. and just shout out "CHOPPY!"

I love that the lady in gray on the right is totally throwing shade my way. Like, lady, I KNOW I had a terrible swim.

Swim: 55:25 (OUCH!) 11/11 AG, 73/ Women, 203/207 Overall.  MAJOR ouch - only FOUR people swam slower than me!?!?!?

T1 - So I tear ass into T1, already exhausted from that swim. I do manage to get in and out of there pretty quickly and get off onto my bike.

Myself and the athlete in front of me displaying fine triathlete speed mounting technique. Sigh.

T1: 1:50 - 5/11 AG, 15/ Women, 55/207 Overall - See, TOTALLY a front of the pack athlete! ;-)

Bike:  Ugh. So I get on the bike, look at my Garmin, and my heart rate is SKY HIGH. Like, 170s high. So I just simmer and try to get that puppy down while in granny gear. And that's the story for the next five miles. Most of it WAS a climb (that I had underestimated looking at the elevation profile), but I was definitely tired out from the swim. It SUCKED. I averaged ELEVEN MILES PER HOUR that first half hour while people passed me left and right and my heart rate just wouldn't come down.

I finally came around after getting on the main flat part of the course and was able to start hauling. Well, hauling for me anyway. Passing people back and feeling pretty good. I get to the first aid station, grab a bottle to refill the ol' Aero, and...the top foam part falls in. I say many bad words, come to a stop, and fix everything. Double sigh.

So everything's going okay until I get to the next aid station at mile 28. I swear to God I thought it was an out-and-back course, and there's no turnaround. I get to mile 29, then 30, and now I am FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. I FINALLY figure out that it must be a lollipop course (which it was), but at this point that's a lot more energy just expended. In addition, my stomach is giving up the ghost and I can't put anymore chews down.

On a bright note, at one point I'm playing leapfrog with a woman and crack her shit up at mile 40-ish by announcing, "My crotch and I are SO ready to get off this bike!" as I pass her.

We come back into town and there's HORRIFIC traffic we're having to weave through. I almost get hit at one point. Not only that, they change the course on the way back so that we have to basically go around the block at the end - no way to keep good momentum going. I come in with one of my slowest rides ever. After a bad swim. (Well, the rest of the ride actually went pretty much according to plan, but 56 miles was not enough real estate to make up those first five miles.)

This photo cracks my shit up - my expression perfectly captures how I was feeling about my race.

Bike: 3:36:42 - 9/11 AG, 62/ Women, 186/207 Overall - Ouch again. Sigh.

T2:

Well I am in a TERRIBLE headspace at this point. My swim was awful (not to mention the scariest I've ever done), my bike was awful, and now my stomach isn't going to let me put anything down. 

T2 - 1:03, but the "placings" have me all in the BOP which is weird, especially looking at the times - other people with slower transitions are showing as better placed. Huh.

Run:

Heading out on the run - I love this picture - I look so FAST.

So the run was changed to a four-loop course a couple days before the race. While I grumbled about it, it WAS a nice way to break it up.

After such a rough first two legs, it was great to have my Cheer Crew yelling up a freakin' STORM when I got started. Stretch stretched out to his full 6'5" glory, put his hand up as high as he could, and yelled "UP HIGH, UP HIGH!" Nearly fell over laughing, especially since I didn't even know he was spectating until that point.

The first loop I'm doing pretty well despite not being able to take anything except water.  Definitely the fastest loop of the day. Unfortunately towards the end of the loop payment is due and I really start bonking. I tell Coach my problem when I start the second loop, and she basically gives me a "Figure it out."

The first thing I have to do is take it down to Zone 2, instead of Zone 3 as planned. Any time I try to run harder than that, I get so nauseated I'm afraid of vomiting. I grab some pretzels and water at the aid station at the far end, which helps a bit, but I'm doing a shit-ton of walking instead of that sweet 9:20 pace I had practiced even on ridiculously big hills in training.

Yes, I became quite sponge-addicted in this race.

I managed to get my shit together a bit better for the third loop - felt faster than the second one. I still sauntered through aid stations though and kept the HR low. I was so happy to get to the downhill at the end and know I only had one loop left to do.

Ever since the Syracuse Marathon in 2012, taking my picture by a speed sign when I'm hurting has become an ongoing joke.

The fourth loop, Stretch actually joins me in my walk-jog for about half of it, which is really sweet of him, especially since his easy pace is like 8 minute miles. At this point I'm just trying to get it done and over with. He leaves me with about 1.5 miles or so to go. Shortly after that, Dr. Z. finds me and escorts me in on my bike. I swear to run the rest of the way if it kills me.

Half a mile or so to go and yes, a 10 minute/mile jog DOES feel like it's going to kill me.

I come through, and as usual collapse in a wheezing heap. And because it wouldn't be a race report without me falling apart at the finish line, here's the collage for y'all:

Run: 2:18:21 - 6/11 AG, not going to manually figure out the rest. Yes, the "auto-tabulated" results ARE screwed up.

Total: 6:51:27 - 9/11 AG (Exactly the same as Tinman. Sigh.), 43/62 Women.

After thoughts:  Well, this was pretty much a shitty race from the start. I have to admit it's been a disappointing season in general, especially after having such an amazing breakthrough season last year. After my THIRD 6:50 Half-Ironman in a row despite training so hard, I'm happy to step away from the distance for a bit and concentrate on Ironman next year.

I'm not saying I won't do Half-Ironmans - they're still my favorite distance - I just need a break from banging my head against the wall trying to execute the race that training shows I have in me. (No, I DON'T think 6:40 at Tinman followed by 6:30 at Big George were unrealistic goals, even in hindsight.)

With that, I was happy to wrap up the triathlon season and go back to my comfort zone - RUNNING!

2013 Lake George Olympic Race Report

Here it is, the race report for the last triathlon of the year - how did we get to Labor Day weekend so quickly? Summer is sweet but very short around here, especially this year with the unusually rainy and cold spring/early summer.

So: Friday after work, Dr. Z. and I drive down to the fine resort town of Lake George. Registration and bike check-in (a nice perk) go without a hitch and before we know it we're sitting at a nice microbrewery enjoying some fine beer and cheeseburgers.

We check in at our hotel and my stomach starts hurting. Like, REALLY hurting. Not queasiness from race day nerves but burning-on-fire severe heartburn. Dr. Z. offers up some Pepto, but it doesn't help and I am up ALL NIGHT in agony (but not enough to think that I needed medical care.)

So 5:00 comes and I get up (already awake anyway). Stomach is STILL killing me and I'm not sure what to do - I've never gotten sick before a race before and here I am two hours before the gun unable to even sip enough water to take my morning medications. Dr. Z. convinces me to get my stuff together since we're here anyway and I have two hours to feel better.

Even at the race site, we're now down to one hour and I'm wondering how I'm going to manage to set up transition, forget RACE. I get my chip, get marked, transition in place, and it's time to wetsuit up. I still feel queasy (though not QUITE as bad) and have not had so much as a sip of water since dinner the night before.

My sassy pre-race face, which is really my "Forcing a grin because my stomach has me about to puke" face

The Swim:

My wave about to go off.

I started off REAL easy since I wasn't feeling well. I was in a "let's just SURVIVE this for now" mindset. I had a MUCH better start than two years ago, where I lost the pack right at the beginning after inhaling a bunch of water, but still ended up way off the back as usual. This also meant NO feet to follow. There was an interesting cross-currant that made it hard to stay straight, but I was pretty happy with my lines.



I had trouble sighting after the last buoy since it was so dark and overcast, but found feet for the last few hundred meters that helped me get back to shore. I was SHOCKED when I looked at my watch and saw 37 minutes. THREE minutes faster than two years ago!

Staring at my watch in shock as I come out of the water.

T1

I was so elated I actually RAN the long run to transition, passing several people. Wetsuit came off like a dream, shoes slid on, and I was out of there. FASTEST IN MY AGE GROUP AND SIXTH FASTEST OVERALL FOR WOMEN. Yep, even when I step down to the Oly distance, my transitions are SWEET.

Bike

So I get on the bike, elated over being out of the swim and transition so quickly, and this time I'm mentally prepared for the long climb at the start.

Big grin heading out. And yes, a huge hank of wet hair OVER my sunglasses and my inhaler is sticking out of my top. Sexy and I know it.

The first thing I do is put a couple chews down the hatch now that I'm finally hungry. I realize that I'm already in the hole and the rest of the race will be staving off The Bonk, but I simply couldn't get any calories in earlier. I get to work, keeping it comfortably hard so I can really run people down.  Unfortunately, I have nothing for the climbs - I'm a small rider and was still getting passed on the uphills and passing on the flats and descents. I actually do great on the flat section, averaging around 19-21 MPH and passing people like crazy. Too bad the OTHER 22 miles were hills.  *G* I do something I usually wouldn't do and slow at the aid station for a fresh bottle of water since 1.) it's humid as my crotch and 2.) I started the race dehydrated. First time I'm able to do a moving hand-up! Yay! Bike handling achievement UNLOCKED.

I don't have the searing split/time improvement I had at Tinman, but take three minutes off my previous time, coming in at a coach-predicted 1:30.

My ass and I coming into T2. You're welcome.

T2

My running shoes fold a little, making me only the THIRD-fastest one in my AG, but otherwise smooth transition. I do grab my cap (a mistake, but I'm self-conscious about my helmet hair), stuff my Garmin down my top, and boogie.

Run

Heading out on the run and putting on the Garmin

Ouch. Like the bike, it starts with an uphill. Unlike the bike, I was unprepared. The run course was way hillier than I remembered. Also, I was really starting to get that woozy feeling you get when you're really close to bonking and hitting the wall. Unfortunately, the extra bouncing I was getting from running made the tummy unhappy again so I was unable to put anything other than water and Gatorade down the hatch. I just stubbornly told myself I did the damn IMLP marathon on fluids only and I could do it again. (And ignored the fact that at IMLP I had eaten a buffet on the bike to prepare.) In the kerfuffle of illness I had forgotten to put on my HR Strap, but the pace numbers were unkind. I was expecting 8:45-9:00 pace and 9:18 was where it was.

Preparing to toss my cap to Dr. Z. Also a great example of my "PLEASE KILL ME NOW" hurt face.

I tossed my cap to Dr. Z. and started throwing water on my head, but it didn't help much since it was a humid heat with still air and overcast. The minute the water warmed up, it ceased helping since there was no evaporation.

Steep downhill on the last mile = WORST RUNNING FORM EVER.

So, my run was a definite disappointment, but while I can't do anything about the weather or getting sick, I need to get serious about hitting hills before I do this race again.

Heading to the finish line in the Park.

I crossed the line in 3:08 - a TEN MINUTE improvement from two years ago. On an empty and upset stomach on a muggy, sticky day. DAMN. Still not even MOP, but I came in about 50 places further up overall than last time. I do feel the need to go back because I know with better training (and with luck better weather an no illness) I can do better. I have a fire in my belly now, in a good way.

Week in Training

Week in Training:

Well, in general it was a tough week. About half the volume of my peak for IMLP, but a lot of it was at sprint pace and this is the time of year where I start losing steam a bit. (I start my training season on January 1st.)

So without further ado, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

The Good:

• Did my longest swim (2K) since Tinman last night and DIDN'T die. (Yes, my swim volume has been THAT low.)
• This is probably worthy of its own log entry, but set ANOTHER PR at the Mini-Tri at Monday. Granted, most of that was from the swim actually being the correct length this week (biked a little slower, ran a little faster), but I'll take it. I was hoping to just break 1:20 this year, but my official PR is now 1:18:03. Yes, KNOCKING ON THE DOOR OF 1:17. CRAZY. I'll be looking for those four seconds at tonight's Mini-Tri, the last of the year.

The Bad:

• Tuesday's 45 minute swim left me very tired, which is pathetic.
• My 9 mile tempo run was quite slow thanks to completely fried legs from all of the hard biking I've been doing.

The Ugly:

• Had a good ole-fashioned meltdown at the lake, after getting out and giving up 34 minutes into a 55-minute swim, tears and all.
• Got the bejesus scared out of me by the most insane crosswinds I've ever dealt with on my bike in my life and ended up cutting the bike portion of Saturday's brick short.

So yes, the very uneven training I tend to have this time of year. Hopefully this week will go better.

Post-IMLP Training Week Four

...otherwise known as "recovery."  LOL.

Actually the week did not get off to an auspicious start. After a great week of light training the previous week with a Mini-Tri PR (1:20:22), my first sub-8 or sub 7:45 mile since my running injury two years ago, and a great "long" (36 miles) bike that had me zooming, I was primed to finally go sub-1:20 at the last Mini-Tri of the year on Monday.

Unfortunately, I woke up feeling like CRAP. COMPLETE crap. ZERO energy, the chills, body aches, etc.  I packed my bag anyway in the hopes I would feel better by the end of the day, but no luck.  It was especially frustrating since the weather was perfect. A lot of people DID set PRs. GRRRRR.

Tuesday, which was supposed to be a swim, was more of the same. Of course, the fact that it was cold and rainy didn't exactly make me want to hit the lake.

Wednesday I finally got back into training and I've hit everything else.  Not a great week except for yesterday's bike, which was 40 miles in 2:25, or a 16.5 MPH average. SWEET!  I'm actually kind of SCARED that I could go sub-3:30 on the bike on Sunday.

So yes, sidelined by my second illness since Ironman, but it's all part of the recovery process.

Up next: A week of light workouts followed by taking care of Unfinished Business at the Vermont Half on Sunday. Woohoo!

Ugh

Ugh...I know, I know. I really DO want to document my journey to Ironman Lake Placid. And yet another two weeks have gone by.

I had my first recovery week of the season, which included my first Tim massage of the year. Heaven! (Well, it hurt, but in a good way!)

My run has REALLY been coming along. I'm still not QUITE back to where I was pre-injury. Over a YEAR AGO. But still - my long runs, while on a treadmill, have been looking really good. I actually see the POSSIBILITY of a PR at CowTown next month.

I've set a couple more PRs in swimming as well, which is cool.

On the downside, my already-slow bike is really Teh Suck right now. As in "I'd better LIVE in the saddle after the half-marathon if I went to make the bike cut-off" suck. Coach had me do an Epic Bike Block last year that really brought me along, and I am now the proud owner of a LeMonde trainer, so I know it'll come. I just wish I was progressing on the bike as much as I was in the swim and run. I have the feeling that that's going to be the discipline I'm always going to have to fight tooth and nail to see any progress in.

So that's where I'm at. I have all of this week's training done aside from Sunday's hard ten miler.

On a lighter note, I'm about to stuff one of that cats in the carrier for their vet appointment, so here's a funny cat video for your Friday Film. Maru, the Japanese cat with a box obsession.

Week One. DONE.

Well, week one of IMLP training is in the bank. Scary and reassuring at the same time.

Swim: Only 2500 yards thanks to the gym boiler breaking mid-week. Did replace the missed swim with an easy spin. Still have my speed but my endurance is a little iffy right now. All in all not bad for this point in the season.

Bike: 5 hours on the trainer. Four of those hours were HARD. One-legged drills, Out of the saddle repeats, and hard intervals. No Z2 base building like last year. Need to work it hard though. My HIM bike time last year was over four hours. (Embarrassing!)

Run: 21 miles. Went pretty well. All my outdoor runs are slow with a high heart rate thanks to having to wear trail runners with YakTrax. They literally weigh almost a pound EACH. Not to mention that I'm running through slush, ice, and snow. STILL better than the treadmill, although I wasn't able to avoid it for Sunday's 10-milers. THAT was mind-numbing.

Strength Training: Not much - 2 15-minute core sessions. Went well though.

Total: 10:05 hours.

So there you have it. Week one all put away to be brought out on Race Day. Onto Week Two!

Day One of Ironman Training

Well, here we go. My training week starts on Mondays, so today was the start of IMLP training. Although the actual workout itself wasn't scary, it was scary because of what it's building up to.

The longest journey starts with a single step, or in this case, 1 hour of one-leg drills on the trainer followed by a 1.5 mile run. My first brick since the Lake George Tri on Labor Day.

When I looked outside and saw this,

I decided that I better add to my run clothing in "Transition."

I set up a stool to rest my right foot on:

And it was go time:

The actual session went well. My legs felt surprisingly fresh for not having run off the bike in MONTHS.

And with that, it's official. I am Ironman in Training. Let's do this!