Swim: 750 meters
Bike: 14.1 miles
Run: 3.1 mile (5K)
Date: 6/14/09
Location: Naperville, IL
Pre Race
I cried as I pulled out of the driveway. First time I've ever left Baby Bear to do something for myself. I know it's good and healthy and the way things ought to be and I didn't think it would bother me. I had no idea it would make me cry. But I soon got over it and went on my merry way.
Pulling into my hotel after hitting a nicely empty packet pick-up 20 minutes before it closed, I noticed the sign said "Welcome DucKon." Which my husband had recently been talking about because we had friends in attendance - I just had no idea it was in the same hotel. A quick phone call and a couple of texts later, I had dinner plans with some non-tri friends. Awesome.
The coolest part was that my hilarious friend Marianne dragged me around to her friends at the con, introducing me as "my friend Michelle who's doing the triathlon." Like it was my last name. And they all seemed So. Impressed. She made me feel like a rock star. I guess it takes a convention of (in my friend's words) "overweight sci-fi geeks" for me to come off as athletic. But I don't care - I heart my sci-fi geeks. I AM a sci-fi geek - just not convention-attending caliber. It was a wonderfully bizarre feeling to be surrounded by my peeps from two completely different worlds - one in which my athletic aspirations are almost comical, and one in which I seemed to be some sort of athletic goddess.
Didn't even flinch when I scheduled the wake-up call for 4:20 am. Thanks to Baby Bear, dark o'clock no longer holds any fear. Was ready to fall asleep by 8:30, but there was a Singing Tesla Coils show starting at 9 in the hotel parking lot. And who wants to be the chick who blew off the Singing Tesla Coils? So I went down long enough to get the gist before I turned in.
Race Morning
My stomach was unhappy from the moment I woke up and I couldn't choke down one bite of my ritual bagel. I forced myself to nibble Shot Blocks and sip Recharge all morning. Eventually I managed to get down half a Clif Bar. I was very worried about having enough gas in the tank to get through two hours of racing, but was more worried about throwing up so I didn't force it. In retrospect I'd been a bit off all week, so maybe it was just a virusy thing.
Arranged to meet my friend Aimee in transition because we were in the same wave again. This is where we met in 2005, and we've kept in touch ever since. She's as sweet and wonderful and - in spite of being out of the sport for 4 years due to major health problems - as ridiculously fit as ever.
Also managed to see tri blogger MommyMeepa as she went zooming past to set up her transition. As luck would have it, we were also in the same wave this year. Turns out when you get older and the age groups get smaller, there's a much better chance of being in a wave with your friends. Another great reason to stay in the game.
Between the nervous peeing and the upset tummy, I got an outdoor potty reminder why I haven't worn the one piece tri suit in four years. But it does stay put under the wetsuit, so the jury is still out on whether or not I'll race in it again.
There's a large percentage of first-timers at this event, and while chatting in line for the loo more than one asked me for advice. I told them the one thing I wish someone had told me before my first race - be sure to smile for the photographers. This got a lot of laughs, so hopefully I managed to ease up some first race jitters for a few sweet women.
Thanks to a couple of practice runs and a handy-dandy grocery bag, the wetsuit went on without incident.
Found Meeps at the last minute before our wave was called down to the water and she grabbed a camera from her family on the sideline to catch this shot...
Quite possibly the most unflattering picture of someone in a wetsuit ever taken. At least I've got something to post on the fridge to stave off those mid-summer ice cream cravings.
This is also the point at which I realized I'd put my goggles over my cap instead of under, but it was too late to do anything about it. Thankfully it was fine.
This is also the point at which I realized I'd put my goggles over my cap instead of under, but it was too late to do anything about it. Thankfully it was fine.
Swim
Race morning they announced the water had warmed up slightly from the dire mid 60s predictions the race directed had emailed the week before. But my gym pool is kept in the mid 80s for arthritic retirees, so as far as I'm concerned 71 degree water is borderline brutal. I stuck with the wetsuit plan, and was very glad I did.
I loved the extra buoyancy, and in the future I'm sure I'll love how it improves my position in the water. But I was so busy not being able to breathe I was almost irritated at how well my legs stayed up. Pre-race wetsuit swim practice plans A, B and C had gotten nixed, so this was my first time. Not that I was all that worried about it, but it would have been nice to know that it's hard to breathe with the tourniquet running bra under the wetsuit. Combine that with water cold enough to take my breath away every time I tried to put my face in it, and I wasn't having the best time of my life.
But. I stayed calm and kept moving and never freaked out or flipped on my back. My time wasn't good, but still a PR by a few seconds. Chatted with Meeps a bit until I had to give up talking to focus on breathing, because I knew I wouldn't be able to put my face in and swim right until I got my breath under control. I wasn't one bit scared - I mean, look at this gorgeous swim venu -but it was still very comforting to know a friend was close by.
I got a big reminder of how friendly this race is as I got close enough to the finish to stand up in the water and remembered to start undoing my wetsuit. The women to my left saw me feeling around for the zipper pull, stopped her race and offered to help unzip me! I have no idea how I'm going to handle the transition to co-ed racing, because women's events really rock.
T1
I took it easy and walked T1 because my foot always seizes up when I'm barefoot, especially after taking weight off of it for a while. I left the arch brace in transition because I didn't want it to get sandy and be useless the rest of the day. I was a little concerned about my first wetsuit exit, but it was uneventful.
Bike
This was my first event since I started riding my bike with A) any idea how to use gears the way they were meant to be, and B) a cadence goal. Since I started training to a cadence I've been enjoying rides more in general, but this was great! My legs never got that awful dead, burny feeling. I passed people. Me! Passing people! I more or less kept my cadence in the 80s. And except for a few little uphill grades and a healthy headwind to boot, I stayed almost entirely in the big ring. That was a major accomplishment for me and I was all kinds of happy about it. And then there was the gorgeous day and the friendly people. I'd have had to try awfully hard to have a bad time on that bike ride.
Partway through the second loop I looked at my time and thought I might PR this leg by a good 10 minutes, but the headwind on the return portion had other plans. I still had fun, felt great and managed my effort well, so I can't complain about a 4:30 PR.
T2
My bad foot really doesn't like walking in bike shoes on a good day, plus it was seizing up after being non-weight-bearing for nearly an hour. So I got over the side of the bike chute as soon as I could and pulled off the shoes. Other than the limping, T2 went the way T2 should go. Even remembered to send husband the text I'd promised to let him know I was starting the run.
Run
Got the best surprise ever about 50 yards after the run start - Wonderful Husband was waiting with Baby Bear! So I got hugs and kisses before getting to work finishing the last leg.
They changed the beginning of the run route this year, apparently because the rich people didn't like their street being closed off on race day. But they re-routed through a lovely shady park, so except for the part where a good bit of the first half mile is a gradual uphill, I love the new route.
Wasn't able to maintain a jog for very long, but got back to it whenever it felt good. And it felt good a lot more than I expected. Got a good dose of 'you're almost there' syndrome from a well-intentioned but moronic spectator who lived near the beginning of the route. As we came out of the park and rejoined the course on the street, she was on the corner shouting 'The first mile's done! Only two more to go!" to all the racers. Since this was a new route for the course, I totally believed her. I was looking at my watch and thinking "Wow! I totally rocked that first mile!" That really should've been my first clue - since when do I pull off a 10 minute mile?! Clearly the morning's calorie deficiency impacted my sanity.
Of course, the Mile 1 marker was nearly half a mile down the street. But that's a minor thing - I should know better by now than to listen to the 'you're almost there' crowd anyway. Lesson re-learned.
Chatted with some nice women, cheered for the ones who passed me, jogged as much as I could. The weather was so nice I got brave and for the first time did not carry my own fluids on the run. I sipped water at the mile 1 and 1.5 aid stations and was feeling good. But the day was getting warmer and I started craving the mile 2 aid station sooner than I'd have liked. I'm glad I learned I can pull it off on a mild day, but will plan to go back to carrying a run bottle until I'm considerably faster between water stops.
Finish
Less than half a mile from the finish I started to get really weepy. This was the first time I was going to cross a finish line with my son waiting at the other end. I love that he will never know a time in his life that triathlon wasn't a part of mine. I love that he only gets to know the happy, healthy me.
Wonderful Husband, Baby Bear and our (former triathlete) friend Ki were waiting for me just before the chute. They were pushing me away and yelling at me to go finish, but I didn't care about my time and gave them all a big sweaty hug and kiss before moving on. I'm used to doing these alone and it means the world to me when my friends and family make it.
Post Race
We were on the way back to the finish line when I thought to get a family picture. This was right before he lost it completely and we had to make the call to head home.
I'd assumed I would wait to see Meepa's big finish, but Bear was at his limit. A 90 minute drive and sitting around in crowds for hours is a lot to ask of an 18 month old. I felt really bad for not being able to stay for her, but she's got kids and knows what it's like when their needs have to come first. We managed to catch up on the phone while I was driving home.
Obligatory Epiphany
I went into this race knowing it was all about fun. I wasn't nervous or afraid. In fact, until I started to great really excited two days before, I was starting to wonder if I was going to feel anything at all, and that bothered me a great deal. I was going into it on 0 - 3 workouts a week... and there were a lot more zeros than threes in the last year. So, I knew I had nothing like a big PR to look forward to. But I was worried it meant I was losing my love for the sport.
I couldn't put my finger on it until I read one of Pharmie's recent race reports and she nailed it. So I'm going to blatantly plagiarize her (except for the part where she did a HIM) - I realized I'm no longer afraid of the distance.
I'm happy that means I've achieved a baseline fitness level that allows me to knock out a sprint just for kicks. But I also get that it means that I'm not pushing myself hard enough, and it's time to find the fear again.
It's time for me to get my act together, work out my foot problem and pick an Oly. The lack of a wetsuit used to be an issue, but I no longer have that excuse. I had originally decided not to pursue an Oly until I could break 2 hours on a sprint, but I'm obviously not pushing myself hard enough for sprints any more and need to rethink that milestone.
I'm realistic about the chronic plantar fasciitis, so I get the Oly will probably have to be next year. But even saying "next year" sends a shiver up my spine, so it's a good place to start...
Results Swim (750m): 21:43 (30 second course PR)
T1: 8:03
Bike (14.1 mile): 55:42 (4:30 min course PR)
T2: 5:17
Run (5K): 51:00 (5:42 min course PR)
Total: 2:21:43 (22:28 min course PR)
Age group: 350/356
Overall: 1643/1705