Mohawk-Hudson Marathon Race Report

After IMLP, I pretty much put away the bike and swim goggles for the year. (it's now mid-October, time to put the bike on the trainer, and I've literally only rode the TT bike once since the race, and that was for the last Mini-Tri.) Instead, I ran mileage that I had never seen before. Seven runs a week, Two in one day once a week. Fairly tame stuff for most marathon runners but for me it was a huge step up. Mentally, it was super-tough because NONE of my training runs went well. MAF was a lot of walking, long runs were impossibly slow and painful, etc. Coach Jenni had to ask me three or four times before I would even suggest and goals for this race.

So pre-race goes pretty much according to plan - had a ridiculous amount of pasta and moderate amount of wine the night before, bed early, and of course didn't sleep well. (I don't usually get nerves before footraces but I really had no idea how this was going to go down.)

Get to the start line plenty early and all of the wetting-down and adjusting of the HR strap isn't working to get a good reading. Considering my race plan is by HR, I'm unhappy but also unsurprised - the damn thing has been giving me trouble for about two weeks, and a new battery didn't help. So I think for a bit and decide to hang with the 4:15 pacer and see how it feels. I'm definitely nervous about running a freakin' MARATHON without heart rate data. Also, this means that my lovely coach will have no HR data for any of my big footraces this year. Lovely.

Me with our awesome pacer. Sorry for the blurriness!

Gun goes off and legs feel good. A group of hysterical guys from Jersey join in and we're giving each other shit. (I earn their respect when they give me hell about something - I don't remember what - and I reply with "Just remember what my elbows and fists are level to. Just sayin'.") I keep an eye on pace to make sure our pacer isn't doing anything funky, but she is ON IT. Watching both Garmin distance and the mile markers to make sure we make up any extra "distance" from not running tangents perfectly.

The 4:15 crew. And yes, he DID look like Vin Diesel. No, I did not mind.

The first ten miles feel great, but after that it starts to feel not hard, but definitely like work. My boys notice and one of them goes, "How you doin', Frodo?"

"Hurting, man."

"We ALL hurtin'."

It is great to come upon the 13 mile mark but it's also a feeling of "Oh shit, I'm only HALFWAY there." I can't wait to get to mile 16 and start the 10-mile countdown.

I look like I'm lost but am looking for Dr. Z. to grab more gels.

Around mile 17 or 18 we get off the lovely bike patch along the river and onto the road in a not very nice or picturesque part of town and this is where it gets REALLY hard. Even the pacer slows down, although that was part of her plans - fast on the bike path, slower on the road. Also, we have to run in single file which is making it even more awkward. I am SO tempted to hold up and stop and this is where having a race crew was so helpful - I knew the boys would NOT let me fall behind and I desperately wanted to stay with them, and that kept me going through those miles.

The pain is real.

Also, at this point it is unseasonable warm - mid-70s. However I'm handling the heat well. I think I've finally learned how to race in at least moderately warm temperatures. It's a start. Around mile 19 Vin Diesel dude says "I'm not sure I'll make past mile 21" and I'm so busy focusing on the pacer's back and just moving forward that I don't notice when he and the other guys drop away. Mentally it definitely wasn't a good thing but I just focus on short term goals - make the Garmin mile marker, make the race mile marker, another .2 miles to make for an even number of miles to go, etc.

Finally we're back on the bike path, although not as scenic a section, and I am hurting SO BAD. I'm not tired (15 hour IM anyone?) and not breathing hard, but my legs are just SHOT and feel like cinder blocks.

At mile 23, I finally have to walk and let the pacer go. Unfortunately I learn that while walking is GREAT recovery for the cardiovascular system, it doesn't do a damn bit of good for shot muscles. I hobble forward a bit and then try to jog. My goal for the next 5K is just to keep it under 11 minute miles. (One of them is CLOSE - 10:59.) Dr. Z, who I've seen off and on on his bike is now pedaling right next to me cheering me on and keeping me going.

I love everything about this photo - that expression with the sad wave, the ambulance, the runner off on the side collecting herself. The last 10K of a marathon is BRUTAL.

Finally I make the last turn and somehow find a way to get back at 9:00 pace for the last bit, which seems to stretch on FOREVER - I hit 26.2 "Garmin Miles" in 4:13, keep running and running, and FINALLY a quarter mile later pass through the arch and of course go down. (Sorry no pictures like I usually have but the finish line was so crowded Dr. Z couldn't get a photo of it.) I'm immediately hauled into a wheelchair and for those keeping count yes that's two A races I had this year, both ending in a wheelchair. :-D

I got out of the wheelchair pretty fast, but this was definitely the most pain I've been in post-race. My legs just felt like they were on fire and I may or may not have shed a tear or two from it. The limiter of the day was definitely muscular endurance, which is good to know and something to work on next season.

And with that, a breakthrough season of PR after PR is over. Happy to sit on my ass for a few weeks and devise crazy new goals for 2016!

Time: 4:16:57 (9:49 official pace, 9:40 Garmin pace with extra distance) - Ten minute PR!
41/78 AG, 752/2111 (Yes I place worse the longer the race is, LOL!)

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.)

The More Things Change...

WARNING: This is yet another talky post that's just a wall o'text, so feel free to skip past.

Wow...the past month has just been a whirlwind. I worked absolutely crazy hours while training my tail off. So, 2015 has started and while my last post hinted at changes, so far I haven't made many.  But let's do the tally for at least where triathlon is concerned:

What's Stayed the Same (Good):

• I'm a Skratchlab Taste Agent again! I just found out tonight that my sponsorship has been extended another year. I'm SO excited to be working with this company again. They're funny, know their shit, and their products rock!

• I still work from home. This really is what allows me to train for Ironman. I mean, I definitely COULD do what most people do and train at Ugly O'Clock in the morning and Tired O'Clock at night, but I'm glad I don't have to.

What's Stayed the Same (Bad):

• I still struggle with making smart food choices. Not only do I seriously love junk food (COME TO MOMMA, fries, pizza, and chips), I'm an "all or nothing" person and am having trouble deciding on a path to follow. I need to either buckle down, pick one, and see how my body responds, or just start making better decisions (doesn't take a brain surgeon to pick the house salad over a side order of fries, for example).

• I'm also still struggling with insomnia. Part of this is due to the extreme stress of my job lately, but even when I take Benadryl my sleep isn't all that great most nights. I've been resisting going on a prescription for it and am hoping that cleaning up my diet and making some changes at work will help.

What's Changed:

• Training with Team Amazing Day - As mentioned in an earlier post, I changed coaches at the end of 2014 and the TAD way of training has seriously rocked my body. I've been sore for three months straight - totally in the good way.

• Swimming with Masters - Although technically this started last year, it began right after my last triathlon for the year so it was part of the "off-season" in my mind.  I've already seen so many gains from it. Unfortunately I'll only be going once a week this coming semester because of the new schedule, but it'll be a nice complement to the swims my coach is giving me.

• Training and Recovery Nutrition. One thing I've learned from TAD is that I was not using Skratch and nutrition enough (I had only been using them for super-long sessions). The same with recovery nutrition. Fueling myself correctly during and after even shorter sessions has made a huge difference in how I perform and recover.

What I Want to Change:

• My body comp. I put on spandex for the first time since September and it was a scary, scary sight. As I said above, I need to buckle down and choose a plan and stick with it. (The second option, just making "better choices," is too vague for someone like me.)

• My mental game. TAD has been awesome in this. They are always bringing us athletes amazing articles to read and think about in this arena. Still working on it though - just today Coach had to remind me to not look too far ahead. (Something that's literally part of my job.) Also working to take control and responsibility for my choices and life - Coach Katie has been instrumental in helping me realize that this is a very bad habit of mine.

• My swim.  Between Masters and TAD introducing me to paddles, this is the one item on the list I feel I have already put changes in place to make happen. I haven't seen any big changes yet, but I feel like I'm laying the groundwork for them.

• My Bike. Once again, I've already put in some crazy hard trainer sessions to this end. (And learned I've been doing single-leg drills wrong all these years.) My hip flexors and quads would scream their agreement. My other plans are bike camp in the summer with the team and (hopefully) a power meter.

I'm going to do it all

As mentioned in my past couple blogs, I always get irritatingly navel-gazing this time of year. Today is Christmas and with one week left in 2014 I still had no direction for 2015. Hell, I haven't had any direction since 2012, when I managed to both complete my first Ironman and obtain my CISSP certification.  I was happy to keep it relatively low-key in 2013 after a year like that, but now that 2014 has come and gone without anything big to show for it as well, I'm feel edgy. We only get so many times around the Sun and I'm definitely feeling that as I get closer and closer to 40.

Well, today I heard One Republic's "I Lived" for the first time, and quickly hunted down the video to find out who did it.



And after I picked my bawling self up off the floor, I knew I had a song for 2015. I don't know quite what it means yet, but it does involve dragging myself out of my comfort zone and saying "yes" more often. I'm also hoping to add some "big stuff" to it the year as well (aside from IMLP, of course). I'm thinking maybe travel, another certification, I don't know.

But I'm excited to see where it takes me.

Off Season 2014 and Changes for 2015

“It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings


So...the 2014 season has come and gone and the year itself only has two weeks left. I always get very introspective this time of year. For some people it's their birthdays that signal the passing of time and thinking of the year ahead, for me it's the New Year.

After PRing at my last A Race of the season , it was time for a break where I let my body recover from a grueling season and thought about what went right and what went wrong.

So, I spent several weeks sitting on my ever-widening ass and eating all the junk food I could find. Sufficiently rested, November came and being an Ironman year, it was time to start on 2015.

The first big change is that I am now training with Team Amazing Day. Although Coach Karen was amazing and turned me into a long-distance triathlete (for which I can never thank her enough), I felt that it was time to move on after four seasons.

I am already seeing improvements after less than two months of MAF training and am excited to see what Coach Jenni can do with me.

As usual, I ran the Lake Placid Turkey Trot and amazingly set a race PR! I couldn't believe it since I was just easing back into training after the off-season, but there it is. In full disclosure, the fact that the streets were (mostly) clear and the temperature was in the mid-20s instead of single-digits helped.

Yes, I know my form looks horrible. Sprinting to the finish praying for the sweet release of death.

The other Off-Season thing to do is...SPONSORS! Unfortunately not as much good news there. I applied to the Coeur Sports team and just found out a couple hours ago that I didn't make it. I have to admit I was really upset not because I felt I "deserved" it or some such arrogance but simply because I honestly thought I had a very good chance of making the team. As I told Kebby, they treated me so well I felt like an honorary sponsored athlete this year and I will always speak well of them and wear all of their things. Of course I plan on re-applying next year. How can I not when their compression capris make my ass look like this?

Dr. Z would like to remind you all that you may look but not touch. 

I also re-applied to Skratch as I'm hoping to continue my relationship with them as a Taste Agent, but they haven't chosen their team yet. Hopefully I'll have better news there.

Also, I've rainbow-ed my hair. It's a lot of upkeep because the chlorine in the pool keeps stripping it out, but I LOVE it.

So where does this leave me for 2015? I have a new coach who is already piling on the volume higher than I've ever done in December before, will evidently be paying out-of-pocket for my amazing training wardrobe, and am hoping to continue with Skratch. I will also be doing my earliest triathlon ever, which right now is looking like the very brutal (Here! Have a 55-degree swim! And the HILLIEST BIKE COURSE EVER!) Harryman downstate in May.

A lot of new things this year, including more strength training than I've ever done, and an introduction to paddles in swim training (Ruling in favor of - LOVE!). I'm excited to see what it all brings. I have this weird feeling of starting a long journey that while I don't know the destination, I'm thoroughly enjoying the ride.

2014 Wrap-Up

Now that I've been sitting on my rear end for a week and half, foraying into the 40 degree drizzle that's been a constant for the past week only for the occasional Masters or easy three mile run, it's time to digest this season. (Especially since I found out that next season starts next week, not November 1st like I thought.)

My bike and run training went amazing this year. I missed very few sessions and laid down some amazing times, even on the Tinman course. Swim training was a bit more frustrating. Coach Karen and I put down an extra swim a week this year but my times even in training stayed more stagnant than they ever have during a season before. She DID lower the distance of each swim so that overall volume wasn't much higher, and maybe that had something to do with it. I don't know.

Even though they aren't an "official" race, the first time I really got to see if all the early-season training paid off was at the Time Trial series. When I set a PR at the FIRST ONE, I was pretty excited. I managed to PR two or three more times despite never tapering or resting for them, and that and my training rides out in Tupper Lake had me feeling good about my bike. (And hey, winning "Best Dressed" thanks to my Betty bike kits didn't hurt. ;-D )

Tinman was next. Despite the goggle disaster in the swim and 85 degree sun on the run, I actually had my best Half execution ever. (Aside from my meltdown on miles 2-5 on the run). The fact that this Polar Bear managed to eek out a tiny PR despite all that had me pretty happy despite being 10 minutes off my 6:40 goal.

After Tinman's ridiculous weather, started practicing heat training. Proof I'm Coeur material: My ass sweats hearts.

Then it was Mini-Tri time. I did manage a PR, but only one. The first year I didn't set and break PRs at least three or so times. My times stayed at 1:18 - a result I only dreamed off just last season, but frustrating in its consistency.

Caught in pea-sized hail on a run - SO unusual for this part of the country!

Then came Big George. I just wrote about it so I won't rehash too much, but I let the tough conditions completely tank my head game, and that was the biggest loss.

An embarrassingly small portion of my S/B/R wardrobe. Doesn't even include any of my Coeur gear.

It was nice to be able to end on a high note with the PR at Mohawk Hudson. Sonja talked about "gazelles" vs. "bulldogs" in her Kona race report, and that's made me realize that I am definitely a "gazelle" athlete. I find joy and execute best when everything is coming together in contrast to being able to pull out the grit on tough days. Definitely something I need to work on since the biggest thing that leads to "bulldog days,"the weather, is completely uncontrollable.

So, not sure where that leaves me for 2015 after such a shaky 2014 season that vacillated between PRs and disastrous races. I do know some things:

1.) As mentioned in my Big George recap, I'm glad to be taking a break from focusing on 70.3 racing. I'll definitely do at least one as a run-through for IMLP and maybe another coasting on my IM fitness like I did in 2012, but in either case it won't be an "A" race.

2.) I need to work on finding my Inner Bulldog. It's a bit harder being BOP because I can't just focus on chasing the podium instead. A definite keep will definitely be to figure out what can drive me on tough days.

3.) I also need to work on my swim in a major way. The new Masters class has definitely helped already despite that we only swim about a mile each week. All the focus on form (and being forced to do things I hate like Single Arm Drills, and kicking with no fins, etc.) and getting corrections from the deck (especially when I get tired and start to fall apart) is REALLY awesome, even if right now my form is SO broken down I look more like a drowning brick than a swimmer. Plus it's much more fun to swim with friends. I even have a swim buddy - we always share a lane and she's just a TEENY bit faster than me, which helps to push me to keep up with her.

And also, another changes as well that I'll get into in my next entry. Hope everyone's enjoying off-season!

2014 Mohawk Hudson Half Marathon Race Report

(a.k.a Dreams DO Come True!)

Pre-Race: 

Going into the race, I knew that a lot of things were coming together - my training times were good, the course is one of the fastest in the country, and the weather was forecasted to be PERFECT run PR weather.

The pieces were all there, it would be up to me to put them all together. In other words, if I DIDN'T PR, it was all on me. This was both good and bad. Good because for the first A race in a year and a half, weather wouldn't be an issue, bad because No Excuses.

So, Dr. Z. and I headed down Saturday afternoon for packet pickup in downtown Albany - a rare treat for this city-loving girl. Got my bib, and walked around the expo a bit. Just was I was about to leave, a super-cute pink hoodie WITH SWEATERPAWS caught my eye. They actually had an XS, so it was MINE.

Then it was time to mow down and P.F. Changs (my FAVORITE) before heading back to the hotel. Pinned my number to my run tank and it was time to hit the hay.

Race Morning:

Ah, the joy of foot races. Relatively late 8:30 start and no transition to set up (or body marking/getting chip/etc.) meant we woke up at a relatively decent hour and still had time to have a leisurely breakfast at Dunkin' Donuts. (My carb-heavy go-to breakfast for footraces of a plain bagel with butter and large coffee.)

Dr. Z. dropped me off at the start and drove off to the finish line in Albany. (The joys of a point-to-point race.) I immediately got into the long line to use the Porta-Potty and spent the rest of the time jogging around while freezing my ass off. (It was about 38 degrees.)

We got all lined up, and in the middle of chatting with a couple other women, we suddenly started moving - no air horn or anything. (And I know it wasn't just me missing it because someone else said, "Oh, we're going?") I actually liked it. It was like, boom, race time.

Mile One:

So we get going and the first thing I find out is that I've seeded myself too far back. It's really hard to pass people because we're on a narrow bike path. Sigh. I end up passing people by going on the grass. I keep telling myself that it's an excellent way to ensure I don't go out too fast. Just as I get some space and get in a groove, my shoe comes untied despite double-knotting it in the morning. I briefly entertain the thought of just running with it like that, at least until the crowd thins out, but five notifications from people that my shoe is untied in as many minutes convinced me to haul over to the side and fix it. I then had to re-pass everyone I had spent the first half mile passing. Sigh. This was my slowest mile by far, but I didn't really freak out - I was in a good groove and had 12.1 miles to make it up.

Miles 2-4 :

Got behind some perfect girls to draft off of. They were running high 8:30s/low 8:40s, but the heart rate and my RPE was okay, so I stayed with it. I couldn't believe they were chit-chatting. I remember thinking, "I'm in the 170's, which is technically Z4 for me, and this is their CONVERSATIONAL PACE?!?!"

Also dumped my hoodie at the first aid station - I was warming up fast. (Luckily it was an old hoodie I knew I might have to trash if Dr. Z. didn't meet up with me in time.)

Miles 5-8:

At the second aid station, I decided to dump some water on my head (yes, although it was still only 40's) and managed to nail someone who (unbeknownst to me) was drafting off me. Oops. I honestly had no idea she was there. Dr. Z finally caught up to me and could see from where I already was on the course that I was having a good day.

I also had latched on to a new group. One of the little things that came together for this race is I always had people going the perfect pace to draft off of and drag me along. It was in here I started noticing my heart rate starting to climb past acceptable levels - I told myself I couldn't go into Z5 until the last 5K. I had a couple slow half-mile splits in here, which made me a bit nervous. My average pace also went down from 8:35 (after a very fast downhill half mile) up to 8:42. Usually still a PR pace, but I could tell this course was LONG. (Thank God for Garmin!).

Miles 9 and 10:

This is where it started hurting. My splits were BARELY staying within acceptable numbers - I was seeing a lot of 4:20s and 4:22s even with my HR up around 175. I dumped off my sleeves and gloves to Dr. Z. at several points.

A couple particularly great action shots Dr. Z. got.

Miles 10-13.3:

Once again, I latched on to a new group, well person for the last 5K. I had actually started sitting on her shoulder at mile nine somewhere and was just trying to hang on. She was going just a bit fast for me, but this late in the race it was go time: Let's pick it up, and see what we have left under the hood. As we passed the Mile Ten marker, Dr. Z. pretty much said that to me. And I went with her. It hurt bad.

During this time, I couldn't rub the brain cells together to look at splits, but my AVERAGE came down from 8:42 to 8:37.

I'm in my "head down and focused" mode, but the beast in front of me is awesomely deep in her Pain Cave.

I just held on. Around mile 12ish she said something, I forget what, and I replied, "Let's finish this thing!". We came on through the bike path, and hit the final turn. I did think enough to hit my lap button at mile 13.1 - something like a 1:53.

First time I've been able to get the "rippling shredded muscles" effect in a photo.

The last .3 seemed to take FOREVER because of the course being long. I kept looking for that damn finish line after I hit 13.1. I could see the clock saying 1:54 and I just SPRINTED through to ensure not only an unofficial "Garmin 13.1" PR, but an official PR. As it turns out, I managed to PR by almost a minute even by GUN time.

Came on through the finish and amazingly DIDN'T need Medical for once. (How disappointing. ;-D) I DID use my inhaler, but that's about it. I was SO, SO happy with my performance. I grabbed a chocolate milk and then through myself down for my first-ever immediate-post-race massage. (More like a very light leg-rubbing, which is all the quads could handle at that point anyway.) Another nice touch that they have at the finish line was a change tent.

What does one wear after taking down a 7-year-old PR? ALL THE PINK!

There isn't much to say about a race where everything big (weather, course, training) and small (people to run with, perfect breakfast) comes together. I do love this race as I love a fast, flat course so am hoping to do the Full marathon next year and set another PR.

Time: 1:54 (8:37 pace over 13.29 miles)

28/130 AG

108/510 Women

238/761 Overall

Onto the off-season!

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!