(That's me closest to the finish at an individual elapsed time of 5:17:17.)
Results:
http://www.lin-mark.com/tm70308.txt
5:17:17
What:
1.2 mile lake swim
56 mile bike (out and back)
13.1 mile run (two loop)
Where:
Ellacoya State Park, Gilford, NH
Course Description:
Swim: Comfortable water temp (with sleeveless wetsuit), heavy waves only for last 400m
Bike: m1-6 rolling, m7-13 hills, m14-28 headwind and flat, reverse direction
Run: Flat with one small hill at mile 5 & 11 (<.25m)
Summary:
Raced with a comp entry for ClifBar (thanks Susan!)
I'm pretty happy to have improved in specific areas over last race.
Quick Highlights:
According to a quick comparison of pro stats from Provi to Timber, I should have finished 10 minutes longer than at Provi, but ended up 2 minutes shorter.
I didn't stress nearly as much during pre-race weeks/hours/days. This was partly due to being socially distracted, but it's important to note that I allowed time to BE distracted.
I didn't panic in the swim, neither during the first 400m nor while jostling around for position during the remainder.
I only felt exhausted* during 2 miles of the run. (*It's important to remember that exhausted here is completely relative to hour 5 of a triathlon.)
Disclaimer:
If you have countless hours to kill and enjoy re-living my Sunday vicariously, read on. Otherwise, you're probably better off getting on your bike and enjoying a good ride on such a beautiful day.
Training:
On day 3 of recovery from my 70.3 Providence, I signed up for Timberman, knowing it was only a month away. I spent one week of almost no exercise, one week of light work, one week of hard training, and then a mirrored my recovery weeks as a two-week taper. In preparation for the switch from an ocean swim to fresh water, I did a Friday swim without wetsuit (in case it was too warm to legally wear one) and a Sunday swim with one (to get used to warm water with a wetsuit). The double swim didn't tire my shoulder too much, and after a day or so, I was feeling confident and strong. I amped up a good sprint workout during the second week prior, followed by a "fran" (cross-fit workout); this put the hurting on my hamstrings and shoulders like "whoa". I hadn't done cross-fit in over a month, and I really shouldn't have done it then. So I scheduled a deep tissue massage for the Thursday before the race. An hour of intense pain, worse than the triathlon itself, I was hoping my muscles would repay this luxury on race day.
Race-day Eve:
I arrived up in NH early on Friday to get in a test swim and drive the course. I was also lucky enough to be able to spend a few hours with my grandparents, who have a house close to the race start. The test swim reminded me that I need to focus attention on a smooth swim if I want to avoid panicking in the water. It was shallow, and varied from cool to warm. I tried to drive the course (while taking photos and jotting down notes of landmarks, climbs, descents, etc...) but was quickly lost and bailed after 12 miles. I then swung by the ClifBar tent to meet up with the crew for that weekend: Paul, Pauline, Ulandt, and Scott. (Anne was en route.)
Being around the guys who have done several iron distance events - even doubles - had a deep impact on my feelings about the race. Whereas my first 70.3 was purely for personal satisfaction, I felt strongly encouraged to race smart and quick because I was representing more than just myself. Internally I could tell that I also wanted to prove myself in the group, gain acceptance based on accomplishment - not that I was being judged by them at all - just out of an internal drive.
I planned on sleeping very well and long on Friday night so that I could camp out with Bex and Abbie on Saturday night. I enjoyed a big breakfast Saturday morning that surely impressed my Grandparents. The rest of the day was spent up at Gunstock working the ClifBar tent, with the exception of dropping off my bike in transition. At the tent, I was psyched to greet my dad who had just biked up from nearby Ellacoya area. Bex and Abbie eventually meandered their way up from Mass, I really felt supported. Several friends and family had called wishing me good luck. I bumped into random acquaintances from other events and social groups. By the time six o'clock rolled around I was wiped and probably mildly grumpy as I wished to be sleeping. Soon enough I was heading over to the campsite and triple checking the transition bags' contents.
Because of the busy day, I still felt distracted from my focus on the race the next morning. I had been so socially concerned that I couldn't maintain a visualization for a long time. I had trouble finding my "two sources of race inspiration" to get me through the entire race. I had a fleeting thought that if I could just enjoy the now, then I would have an enjoyable race. I jotted a quick smiley face on my left wrist and would have to let the other one come the next day. I slept without worry about waking up on time nor pre-race anxiety, although I did have a bizarre dream in which some friends literally told me I "need to focus" (although in a very different context).
The next morning, I had just prepped my transition zone and had about 20-30 minutes to kill, so I went back to my car and lied down in the back of it, meditating. I came to realize that I was stressing because I was going to try to beat someone else's time. I know that MY best race doesn't have anything to do with someone else's best efforts. En route back to transition for the final time, I stopped at Body Marking and had "my" written on my right wrist as a reminder.
Nutrition:
7pm-9pm - Race-Eve Dinner: Pasta with some greens. Many many ClifBar products: bars, shot bloks, builder bars
4am - Some more Clif bars/bloks
7am - Most of a Clif mini bar... not really feeling hungry. Sipping water mostly until start
7:47am START OF RACE
Bike: nothing for the first hour, then some Clif Shot Bloks, and eventually 2 bars. Totaled 2 packages of Bloks and 1-2 bars. Stomach felt crampy for a bit.
Run: 1 sip coke, 1 cup water at every rest stop until mile 6, then bit of pizza crust (thanks to a volunteer!), and followed by potato chips and a banana in addition to the same liquids
The Race:
I was warming myself in the sliver of sunrays peeking through the trees to try to stop shivering. I had done a quick warm up swim that turned cold once out of the water. Upon finally being called to line up for the swim start, another racer informed me that my zipper wasn't fully up. He then pulled it up for me (assuming it was being helpful) but pulled it past the tear-away point. Long story short, I completely re-threaded and re-zipped the zipper with seconds to spare. I was a little anxious about having to start with my suit unzipped, but not panicky for some reason.
The sound of bagpipes fills the air and we're off! I put face to water, fully expecting to already feel short of breath, and am surprised to find that my body was breathing and swimming fairly comfortably. Even jostling with other legs and arms, I maintained a solid focus and even desired the excitement of being in the pack. After rounding the first third, we were all facing directly into the sun. I could hardly see a thing in the right direction because the glare spread out wide, especially in my foggy goggles. Rounding the second turn, I soon hit a slew of waves. My arms weren't tired, but I was starting to wish to be done swimming; I was pretty sure I could see the shore. Because of swallowing a mouthful of water in lieu of air, I soon found myself heaving the water back out in an uncomfortable way. Yet, for some reason, even this didn't throw off the rest of the swim and I eventually reached the shore.
As if my legs had been compressed like springs, they carried me quickly from the shore to T1. Yadda, yadda, I was on my bike and pedaling away. My stomach was crampy, so I didn't eat as I normally do when getting on the bike. The first small incline felt mildly annoying and it set the tone for the rest of the ride. Miles 1-6 were rolling hills. I was cheerily saying hi and making quick conversation to other riders as I passed. I ate some Clif Shot Bloks knowing that I needed some nutrition. Then miles 7-13 had some decent climbs - nothing huge, but worthy of getting out of the saddle and then enjoying the descent. At the first few water stations, the volunteers were dressed in costumes, hillbillies then jesters, respectively. I barely drank any water for a while and didn't need a new full bottle until the 2nd or 3rd water station. The rest of the 58 miles out was into headwind. I stopped at some point to give a stranded rider a tube, and ended up losing my tool. Damn it. I eventually reached the turn around at the half-way point and headed back into headwind on the same flat-ish course. I stomached some bars. I felt refreshed when I finally made it back to the hills and was able to rest/stretch my legs on a descent. A few short power climbs later, I was back at T2 feeling better than the middle of the ride.
While tying on my shoes, I thought to myself, "I should really have tightened these laces at the toe box." Yup, by mile 2 I could feel the blister forming. I felt strong running, but didn't want to push it too hard too early so I kept the pace a little slower. I remembered how the first few miles seemed to take hours to reach in previous races, and tried to not rush the anticipation of each mile marker. In a deliberate and risky attempt to improve upon the suffering of the running leg on the 70.3 in Providence, I sipped some coke with water at the first water stop. I wasn't sure how the sips of coke would go with my digestion system, but they proved no more harmful than a few burps and slight cramps that could be worked out. Phew. Where as I had seen my grandparents on my way in from the bike, I didn't spot Bex, Abbie or Forni until the start of my second lap. Around mile six, I started feeling very tired and intensely wanted to stop and lie down. Then I thought to Regina's suggestion that "The discomfort I'm in now, just means I'm working hard." I kept plugging along. At the next water stop I spotted a slice of thick pizza lying next to the water cups. Thankfully, the volunteer whose pizza it was, let me put my grubby paws on it and take a bite of the crust. I really can't thank those volunteers enough for putting up with and feeding us needy and self-absorbed racers. It took me a whole mile to eat that bite, and it was delicious. I then took in potato chips, a banana, Gatorade Endurance, and some salt pills. (I think that's what they were?). I saw my dad twice during the last lap. By mile 8, I wasn't feeling that shabby. I could really feel the blister, but ignored it and started to hope that it would get bloody to justify the pain to spectators. I still walked through the last water stop (just long enough to drink fluids), but put on a pretty good kick for the last two miles, finishing up in a solid sprint for the final chute.
Post Race:
Somehow I had enough energy to look around, albeit in dismay, for some shade immediately upon coming through the finish. After a short rest under a table of medals, I was shown to a water misting tent and handed a waterbottle. A few minutes passed by while on my back, feet up on a chair, lying in wet mud, with water misting down. My muscles were tired, but I was more conscious and energetic than I expected - as long as I wasn't moving. The blister was causing me to walk funnier than just my tight calves would have, but I saw that coming.
Conclusion:
Thanks to all the volunteers, other triathletes, and my friends and family for your support. To those who wrote words of encouragement or shouted loud on the course, your encouragement lasts far longer than you may know.
I'm proud to have overcome the mental challenge of the swim, and the physical challenge of the run. I am curious why my times don't reflect these accomplishments, but maybe more training is the only answer.
I am apprehensively planning my next goal: a full marathon. This would theoretically put me in a good position to do a full iron distance triathlon next summer. I'm surely crazy, or must love every second of it to make it worth the commitment.
