More to come!
Sam Nicaise
Wow, this was my first triathlon ever! And, boy, was it a blast. I’d like to throw out some mad props to the other first-timers, Becca and Diana, for running awesome races! I never thought that racing could be so fun, damn challenging, invigorating, and motivating.
PRERACE:
Getting to Alabama on Thursday before the race was well worth it. It gave us time to get to know the area, see the course, and settle in to the hotel. Sticking my head in the river water at 60F for the first time was a shocker! But it helped get me accustom to the temperature that was to come. Some of us did an easy ride of the bike course, and instilled false confidence that the “few hills” would provide for a fast and doable course. Little did we know! I think the best part of Thursday was sleeping for almost a full 12 hours. I always underestimate my ability to sleep, and that night was surely an example of what compounded sleeplessness can lead to. The rest was needed, and I found the value in getting that “second day before” sleep. My energy levels were super high the next couple days.
Friday was another good day. We woke-up mid-morning, and headed down to the river for our first swim (with wetsuits of course!). The water was clocking in at 59.7F, and sure felt like and ice bath. After realizing that your hands and feet were inevitably going to go numb, it didn’t seem so bad. A couple hundred meters later, I was ready to mount up. Another smooth bike ride on the route, plus the heat of the day, added up for a smelly bunch of triathletes. Us, and the rest of the students from around the country. Seeing all of the other teams was a very exciting part of registration and the Expo. The afternoon concluded with some hardcore bike maintenance (I successfully adjusted my gears for the first time in my life) and continuous eating. Lastly, we headed over the pretty (GREEN!) large campus of U of Alabama for grubbing in their dining hall. 3 heaping plates of salad, garlic bread, green beans and pasta later, and my carb load was complete. Sleep was nigh with a food coma to the max.
RACING:
I don’t know how to start. I guess from the beginning makes sense, even though I want to start at the end. We woke up super early, though got to the parking slightly after we wanted (about 2 hours before my wave went). I thought that this would be plenty of time, but after waiting in bathroom lines (major orchestration fail), transition check-in lines (another fail), and warming up in the river (a great idea on my part), I only had 20 minutes before my start. I watched the first 5 waves start, then jumped in the water with the rest of the wave 6 people, including Eric. At this point, the 3 times in the water were paying off.
SWIM: (27.39 including run to T2 for 1500m)
My first mass-start swim went better than I expected, though it still seemed like bedlam. The thrashing continued for the first ~300m, before I was finally able to get into my stroke. It was then that I remembered I needed to ‘sight’. I looked up to see that I was veering way off-course…first of a few of these mistakes. After rounding the first or second turn (about 600m), my confidence started to pick up as I saw blue swim caps of people from wave 5. Though the water was cold, it wasn’t phasing me too much, except for the often gulp of river water. The long far-side stretch continued to get better and better. As soon as I was clear of people in front of me (about 500m left), I was able to concentrate on a very efficient stroke. I made it through the last turn, and powered into the shore-finish. The swim-T1 transition was one of the hardest parts of the whole race! Between the very muddy shore, and cold-to-hot difference, I felt light headed, even though my legs were dead. It was a few hundred meters run to the T1 area, during which I stumbled a little, dropped my swim cap, though I lost my goggles, and evidently completely didn’t hear the MIT girls cheering for me. In the end though, I think I was able to get my head on my shoulders and power through.
T1: (1:21)
Better than I expected! I got my wetsuit off with little problem, helmet on, and was off to mounting. Then I remembered that tired legs = can’t clip in. After about 5 tries to get on my pedals (a significant embarrassment), I finally heard the satisfying “click” to the cheers of “MIT”.
BIKE: (1:21:47 for 40k, 18.2mph)
Though I felt great about the bike, it was obviously my weakest sport. The “slightly hilly” course seemed way hillier once you are tired, and have been racing for over 1 hour. I stuck with my plan and shot for an 18mph average. To get there, I powered up a lot of hills, and played it conservative on the down hills and flats. I still don’t know how to work my biking strategy, but I don’t think I have either – power or endurance – legs just yet. We’ll see how that unfolds. Also, this was my first ride with sunglasses, and they really helped with the sun and wind. My energy level was high, breathing low, but after the first lap (of 2 total), my legs were starting to feel the fatigue. I mentally and energetically felt strong, but my pace dropped quite a bit on the second lap. Nonetheless, I kept pushing. The wind wasn’t bad (way less than Boston). I also experienced my hands going numb, something that hasn’t happened to me in a long time: more core, get aero bars, and remember that standing is a good recovery. I later found out that I had put my handle bars on wrong: over 1cm too far to the right...woops! I drank both of my accelerade bottles, which kept my energy high, though I think the liquid was more than I was used to. After pushing really hard on the last 2 miles of the bike, my stomach started to cramp up. Old haunts came back to bite me. In the end though, I averaged over 18mph, and met my goal!
T2: (0:58)
I was able to get my feet out of my cycling shoes and on top of the pedals before T2! As I dismounted, I started to feel the cramp in my stomach acting up :( I ran into T2, threw on my shoes (thanks lock laces), and was out in a great time.
RUN: (45:15 for 10k at 7:18 min/m)
My stomach was still aching out of T2. My legs were dead tired at this point, energy was mediocre, and the sun was getting high! Lucky for me, the first part of the run was uphill. Being from Northern Kentucky, running hills is what I live for, and as others walked arduously to the top, I was able to fly by them. I had one person pass me at the beginning of the run, but that was the last person the whole rest of the race (though I had probably set myself back pretty far after a slow bike). I chomped a few energy chews to give me a burst, and came through mile 1. At this point, I realized that I wasn’t going to make my “I would be ecstatic if I got a time of” 2:30, but set a new goal of 2:37, under my desired 2:40. With my cramps still going strong, I grabbed water at each station and threw it over my head to cool off (instead of adding to the pain with a sloshy stomach). I had forgotten what it meant to run in super humid heat since leaving Kentucky. After the downhill between mile 2 and 3, the long straight stretch started. I had passed Antoine and pushed him along, hoping that the heat wasn’t killing him too much. Though my stomach was setting a limit on my pace, I felt strong, and wasn’t waning. No negative splits, but surely even. The run got harder and harder, but I continued to pass people, either overtaking them, or shouting out encouragement for them to beat their injury/heat. Miles 3-5 were the hardest, in the sun, with few water stations, and not knowing where the turnaround would be. The best part, was high-fiving Senovio and Scott as we crossed paths. That boost kept me pushing. When I finally got to the water station near mile 5, I downed some Gatorade, knowing it would kill my stomach, but my body needed some liquid. At this point, I mentally found a second gear, even if I wasn’t racing any faster. When I finally saw the mile 6 marker, I turned it up a notch, as I approached the crowds. “Unfortunately,” I turned up the heat and sprinted through the finish line! My first race was complete! I obviously had more energy left, but my next couple steps were quite wobbly :P Nothing a gallon of Gatorade and water couldn’t solve. Best part: I was just over my goal of 2:37 after keeping a consistent strong run pace!
WOW:
I couldn’t be happier for finally completing a goal I had set for myself back in October. Not only did I train my butt off, but I made my first triathlon an Olympic, not even a Sprint. It was awesome to be able to do it with friends, compete against/with so many amazing athletes, and realize that possibilities really are endless. Thoughts after crossing the finish line: 1) Can I stand? 2) Yes, mostly. 3) This Gatorade tastes more delicious thant 25-year old bourbon! 4) When do I get to start training again? 5) Can I start training now? 6) I don’t get to race again till June? Damn! 7) Oh well, maybe I’ll do a 70.3 …So yah, triathlon is definitively addictive.
TAKEAWAYS:
-Coach Bill is the freaking man! I could only fumble through the water when I started going to his beginner lessons in January (1000m was the furthest I had swam in years!). After the lessons, and a few months of practicing what he said, my TriNats swim rank was almost better than my run rank! If I get in some good OWS this summer, I think it may become my best sport, which seems crazy, but exciting.
- All of my running practice has paid off. I couldn’t have ever imagined how hard running of the bike is, which is why everyone emphasizes bricks (and high intensity bricks too). Granted, I have a running background, but I have gotten way better since going to track workouts (thanks Andrea) and working with Coach AJ. It was evident when I was passing dozens of people on the run, didn’t bonk, and kept a consistent pace. Now, I just have to learn how to run while fatigued, and with a full stomach of water/chews.
- Tri can seem like it would be a very individual sport, but the team aspect is incredibly important. It was amazing to make new friends / strengthen friendships. Thanks to the whole MIT TriNats team for making it an awesome trip. There will be plenty of group training to come. We need to keep pushing.
- If I am ever tempted to spend money on tri gear in the next half-year, I will remember that there is no more effective or efficient way to get faster than training. Money spent on gear is only well spent if it helps you train better. Granted, I am not shaving seconds, but I think this was a very important concept to learn, especially when I was passing the guys on cervelos.
- Every couple weeks, do a “race scenario” training (or simply a race), in order to get your body used to the fatigue, transitions, and water/energy supplements.
- Triathlon is freaking hard. Everyone who completes one is a sweet athlete, and deserves congratulation. It takes physical strength, physical endurance, mental toughness, self-control, dedication, and incredible long-term and short-term drive.
- When to do I get to start training again? Why is the next race not till June? Oh, well, more motivation to qualify for TriNats next year and return to Tuscaloosa.
Shaena Berlin
Warning: I usually love writing race reports, but have had a lot of schoolwork to do so put off writing the most recent ones for such a long time that this might be annoyingly short or boring.
Travel: 13 athletes from MIT (5 women, 8 men) flew out to Birmingham then drove to Tuscaloosa, Alabama for collegiate triathlon nationals. The flights were uneventful, but the dramatic change in landscape and climate totally shocked me; we came from cold, rainy Boston to almost tropical-feeling, green Alabama.
Swim: 28:35
The water temperature felt fairly cold (~62 degrees), but not altogether unpleasant because the air was so balmy. For this race, the men all started around 7am, then the women did not start until 10:00; this altogether made the races for men and women quite different, as we had to deal with horrible heat and humidity by the end, and they didn’t. Anyway, I started in the first wave, with all of the elite/semi-pro triathletes along with all the other women who just happened to be seeded first for some reason; the swim was ok, though I didn’t really go as hard as I would have in a pool because everything was so chaotic. The crazy part of the swim (and the reason for the super-slow time) is that the run into the transition area was at least 2 minutes/.25 miles, which was quite long.
Bike:1:16:20
The bike course and race was great, super fun. It was mostly flat or rolling hills, without very much wind. It’s always really exciting to pass women on super-expensive bikes with aero-everything, who should probably just spend some more time training…On that note, I got to watch the men’s bike start because our race hadn’t started yet, and it was AMAZING how many of the top men fell off or totally messed up their bike mounts; sometimes, simple methods (i.e. putting on shoes in transition zone) are more efficient! The course consisted of two laps, so it was fun to see other MIT women going the opposite direction and cheer for them.
Run: 52:21
The run was not fun (it rarely is, but this was particularly not fun), due to the heat and humidity; it reached the high 80’s during our race, and there were literally girls who just sat down in the middle of the road and couldn’t move, and people who were carried in on stretchers and dunked in ice baths. So, compared to them, all of us MIT women survived fairly well; I felt like I was sprinting and was shivering pretty badly on the final mile (which was around a 9:00 pace, yikes), but ended up running a 53, which is far from the worst I’ve ever done. Anyway, it was a great relief to finish and walk around with big bags of ice for the next few hours (and sunburn for the next few days).
Overall: 2:39:45
Overall, it was quite fun, and we had a great time. I placed fine, not a lot better than last year but at least slightly so. This summer, my goal is to get better at running in the heat.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Monday, September 13, 2010
Race Reports - Early September 2010
Quakerman "Olympic" NECTC Race
Quakertown, PA
9/11/10
Shaena Berlin:
Distance: This was a kind of odd distance, with a .6 mile swim, 39 mile bike, and 10k run. It seemed ideally suited for me, because it made the bike extra long compared to the run; since my bike is usually much better than my run, it seemed a recipe for success!
However, let me give an overview of the past three weeks: Three weeks ago, I went on a camping trip in Yellowstone National Park, a full 7 days without a bike (although it was a fairly active trip). When I got back, I rode ~30 miles two days in a row and then shipped my bike off to campus. 9 days later, I finally received it again, but then it was raining very hard so I couldn’t ride again until Thursday. Then, 7 miles in, my chain broke (so I “ran” back to campus in my bike shoes). Then I got in an 18-mile easy ride the day before the race. So, essentially, I didn’t ride for 3 weeks before this bike-centric tri. How depressing…
Anyway, Scott did a great job driving us the LONG way to Pennsylvania, mostly in the dark and at speeds that made me not want to look at the speedometer. I “navigated” with Google Maps on my phone, which mostly worked. We arrived just before midnight and went to sleep, grateful that at least this wasn’t a race we would have to wake up ridiculously early for.
Woke up in the morning and ate some DELICIOUS banana-zucchini-chocolate chip whole wheat oatmeal muffins (email me if you want the recipe; I’m trying to hide vegetables in my food, and this definitely worked)
Swim: .6++ miles/~21 minutes/~6th woman?/~30
The lake water was fairly warm, I’d say just below the legal wetsuit limit (mid-70’s), so the swim was quite pleasant. It was a bit crowded, though, and I may have accidentally groped a few people inappropriately – thank goodness for wetsuits!
I felt like I swam very well. Over the summer, I averaged a measly 1 hour per week in the pool, but the past 2 weeks I have gotten in a bit more and some real workouts; to my surprise and indignation, my times have improved by several seconds during my time not swimming (at least for fast 50s and up to 200 – haven’t tried anything above that). If only that would happen to my run…
Bike: 39.6 miles/~2:05 (19mph avg)/~4th woman
The bike course was very nice, with several long flat-ish sections and a few decent hills. I had some very bad shifting problems (my own fault – the other day, it was shifting weirdly so I messed with the derailleur things in the front, thinking that was the problem when in reality my chain just had a stiff link. My chain broke, I put it back together one link shorter, but I didn’t know how to change the derailleur settings back to the way they were), so I ended up in too hard of a gear for most of the race. My legs, which usually feel super strong, could definitely tell that I hadn’t ridden in 3 weeks. Still, I pushed through and managed a very good average time, though today some muscles are sore that I didn’t realize even existed. I kept going back and forth with a few people, strong men and tiny little women who would pass me on the uphill and say with a tone of superiority “Nice job, keep it up!” and who I would pass again a mile later when I powered down the flats.
Run: 10k/6.2 miles/~52 min/~9th woman
This was a very interesting run for me. Usually, I get to the run with still-strong legs but a very high and unpleasant heart rate and low blood sugar. This time, I started out with dead-feeling legs but barely breathed hard at all! That, I suppose, is the result of coming down to sea level after ~12 weeks at high altitude – a FABULOUS result, I might add. Almost makes the adjustment period when I go back worth it. Almost.
So I trotted along a rather hilly and completely-pavement (ouch) run course, weird inner-side-of-leg muscles threatening to cramp on the uphills due to my bike ride in too high of a gear. Drank some Gatorade at the aid stations, turned around, trotted back, felt glad to be almost done when some people were still on mile 1. I figured that with my current running state if I ran a 50, that would be fantastic, while if I ran a 55, that would be acceptable; I came in at 52 min, which made me happy enough. I actually have been running quite a bit (though still not nearly as much as when I used to run cross-country), but I have never been a fast runner and much prefer trails to roads, so speed isn’t really my objective.
Results: Disappointingly, the timers did not receive a chip time for me! I am not sure if it was because they gave me the wrong chip (at packet pick-up they switched my race number, saying the old one had problems – I guess the new one may have too), or because the chip was faulty. There were several others who complained about not being in the results, and apparently a few people who were in the results but never actually showed up for the race. In any case, I timed it roughly on my watch and told them what I thought my finish time was (between 3:21 and 3:22, with a 21-min swim, 2:05 bike, and 52 min run, then approx. 2 min T1 and 1 min T2). Unfortunately, they decided to enter me in at 3:23:00, which dropped my placing by a few collegiate women and took me out of 3rd place for the under-24 women (but I wouldn’t have gotten a prize anyway, since they scored collegiate separately).
I just hope that the time still counts and doesn’t drop me too far in the USA Triathlon Rankings; before this race, I was ranked #12 in my age category nationally, and I would quite like to keep it that way or improve. Hard to believe that I’m even the same person who came in 2nd-to-last in the entire state in cross-country and couldn’t even run 3 miles just 5 years ago!
It was an enjoyable race and good distance, but very far away from Boston; maybe next year they will re-add Lobsterman to the NECTC schedule, because that was a wonderful and nearby race.
Age Group World Championships 2010
9/12/2010
Budapest, Hungary
Zuzka Trnovcova:
Originally one of my A races, due to a difficult last semester and summer at
MIT, I ended up far from being in top shape for this event. Despite the fear of
huge embarrassment, I did not want to give up yet another race this season. So
after many ups and downs, both in Cambridge and at home (Bratislava, Slovakia),
fighting my fears, lack of motivation, as well as common laziness, I arrived in
Budapest this Friday ? with my mom, my brother, 3 bikes and 4 sets of wheels
(a bike for each of us + my disc wheel and trispoke for the race).
The fun started on Saturday morning, when we left our hotel bright and early to
cheer on my US friends, whom I met at the last year?s World Championships in
Australia, this year competing in the Sprint World Championship. I got to see
all of them getting on the bike and one of them running and loved their
surprised but happy looks when they heard and saw me and my family :-) The
drizzle gradually changed into heavy rain as we watched the following U23 women
category (including a girl from Czech Republic who we all raced against back in
Slovakia and who I beat a year ago ;-) - unfortunately due to her bike
crash?) The U23 were swimming 2 laps of the sprint course and were very fast
and organized in the water ? except for a few stragglers, they swam in a
tight pack, which disintegrated a little bit only in the last quarter of the
race ? a fascinating thing to watch ;-)
After my friends were off for the run, which finished 5km from the transition
area and race center, we came back to hotel to get dry and to get my bike ready
for the evening mandatory bike check in. And that?s where a little drama
began? It turned out that the pump that we brought was more of a mountain
bike pump and by pumping my front wheel to 120psi, the pump started leaking
from its side (personally, I think it was not completely alright to start with,
but oh well). So as we kept pumping my rear wheel, it went from about 90psi to
maybe 40? I started getting nervous. My brother kept trying to fix the pump
by reassembling it and lubing it everywhere he could think of. But it would not
work? Finally, he took out a hand pump and managed to pump up the wheel to
about 60psi, while sweating out a gallon :-) Even though I really appreciated
his effort, I got pretty impatient and insisted on heading to the race center
right away to find a pump. However, before we got to the car, the wheel
deflated almost completely. I forced myself to believe that it was because my
brother forgot to close the valve after he pumped it up? Just in case, we
also pumped up my regular, not-so-aero wheels at the bike service and headed
over for some sightseeing. Unfortunately, before we left the car to see the
castle district, the disc wheel deflated again. My biggest fear became true ?
I got a flat tire on a tubular and did not know how to change it, nor had
anything to change it. My brother assured me that they will have something at
the bike service, but I was hesitant, so the two hours we were sightseeing I
could not stop thinking about my poor disc wheel and how ?terrible? it will
be racing on a regular wheel after I lugged a special wheel case for my disc and
trispoke across the Atlantic? So I rushed my family back to the bike mechanic
an hour before the start of my mandatory bike check-in, determined that I would
pay anything to get my disc fixed. As one would guess for a bike mechanic at
triathlon world championships, they had extra tubulars and knew how to replace
them. I was greatly relieved, even after they charged us 58 Euros.
The second pre-race mini-drama happened at the transition entrance. A young,
strict but not very trustworthy looking lady told me that the front wheel must
have at least 12 spokes. I was pretty sure that I saw many people around with 3
and 4 spokes in front, so I tried to argue my way out, but she relentlessly
wrote my number down and said that one of the officials will go check my front
wheel in the morning. I was desperate one more time and so I spent part of my
evening researching ITU rules to prove her wrong and hoped that someone more
knowledgeable will be there in the morning?
The following morning I woke up at 4:45am and felt pretty non-dramatic ? like
before just another race... I just hoped my wheels survived the night. And they
did. I did a very ?leisure? warm-up ? running around for maybe 5 minutes
total and then swinging my arms around like everyone else did. This was
probably not enough? Unfortunately, we were not allowed to have a swim
warm-up (what a stupid rule!) and they allowed us to enter the water and hold
on the pontoon only 30 seconds before the start, so after the gun went off, I
was pretty shocked by the 59F water and resorted to swimming breast stroke for
the first few minutes. In addition, my goggles were leaking, so I stopped
several times and tried to fix them. I was getting really behind and the
kayakers asked me if I was OK. I was, except that the water was cold and I was
getting nowhere. After 5 or 10 minutes, I got accustomed to the water and my
goggles, though foggy, held tight on my face, so I actually started swimming
normally and catching up with one swimmer in front of me. Eventually I passed
her and was swimming very close to the second to last swimmer (out of 56
starters), which made me pretty happy since last year I was last out of the
water :-)
Running through the transition felt pretty hard, which was probably a good
indicator that I was not slacking too much in the water. It took me some time
to get to a steady pace on the bike. After that I was cruising and managed to
pass a couple girls and one guy. I got passed by a lot of guys and towards the
end by quite a few 25-29 year old girls. However, towards the end I was running
out of steam, so I was trying to drink more and as a result got passed back by 2
or 3 girls. My mom and brother were cheering on me loudly during each of the 3
laps, which felt great. Towards the end of the bike, I was ready to be done
(with the bike and everything), but unfortunately, I still had to run 10K?
Transition 2 felt even harder than transition 1. My back hurt and running was
hard too. Just running through the transition was at least 1/6 of a mile if not
more. I managed the transition OK, leaving for the run without socks. My mom and
brother were cheering on me right outside of the transition before they headed
back to the hotel to eat their breakfast (since my finish was 5km from the
transition and it would be cumbersome for them to transport themselves there).
The run was in beautiful scenery ? first along the Danube, then in the city
center. I saw a lot of nice buildings, bridges and boats. However, I was
running very slowly. I felt tired and didn?t want to overdo it, but I still
got cramps in the side of my stomach (or lungs?) with maybe 2 miles to go. I
walked a bit, but it would not go away, so I walked-ran for a while and then
after one of the British athletes tapped me on my back and told me that I can
do it, I resorted to my slow run again? I drank twice during the run, which
is also unusual for me because I usually don?t drink at all during the run in
an Olympic distance. Another confusing situation arose with the laps on the run.
We were supposed to run 5K along the river and then do 2 laps around the city
center. But the laps were really unclear, so on the second lap, I was trying to
ask several slower runners whether I was supposed to do one more lap or I was
done. It turned out I was going to be done very soon (had I known it sooner, I
might have run faster, but one can always say that, so I won?t elaborate
here), so I sped up for the last 1/6 of a mile or so and did a very lame
?sprint? and was done ? yay ? relief? My US friends were waiting for
me at the finish and we took a boat back to the race center/transition area
where my mom and brother were waiting for me.
I didn?t have any expectations of this race, so I was not too upset at when I
finished 51st out of 55 finishers (I guess one girl did not finish?) with a
time of 2:38:00 (this seemed an OK time, but it was actually pretty slow since
the first girl in my age group finished in 2:01:18). My split times were
nothing surprising either:
Swimming: 32:54 (54th ? considering the initial chaos, it was surprisingly
good)
T1: 3:27 (50th ? as I said, the transition was really big?)
Bike: 1:02:32 (39th ? the bike was entirely flat and the fastest girl in my AG
did it in 55:48)
T2: 3:26 (51th)
Run: 55:40 (50th ? my worst 10K race time ever ? oh well, but considering I
had to walk and the last 2 miles hurt quite a bit, it was OK?)
Full results can be found here:
http://www.triathlon.org/results/event/2010_dextro_energy_triathlon_-_itu_triathlon_world_championship_grand_final/1338/
and a news article here:
http://www.triathlon.org/news/article/2800_age_groupers_compete_in_world_champs/.
Being my last race of a not very good season, I?m happy the Worlds are over
and after a month or so of totally unstructured activities, I?m going to
start training again. Should be good. And I believe next year Worlds in Beijing
will be much better.
Espirit Triathlon (Ironman Distance)
9/11/2010
Montreal, Canada
Melissa Dell:
Time: 11:41:46 (S: 1:28:51/T1: 9:56/B: 5:38:14/T2: 7:49/R: 4:16:57)
This past Saturday, I finally did my first triathlon, an iron distance race in Montreal. My goals going into it were pretty basic: I wanted to have fun and when the opportunity arose, I wanted to be able to encourage other participants. Ok, maybe this sounds a little cheesy or cliche, but for me, the essence of doing ultra distance events is about forming a bond with other participants, people who don't even know your name but who share a very particular passion and the experience of doing one of these events. In my first ultra distance race a few years ago, a 56 mile run in South Africa, I started to feel really dizzy and sick during the latter part of the race due to low sodium, as the aid stations had run out of salt. Some random participant saw that I was struggling and asked if there was anything she could do to help. When I explained that I needed salt, she walked with me for a mile and asked every single person by the side of the road cheering for salt until we found someone who did. I felt much better and was able to safely finish the race, with the encouragement of lots of people who were themselves exhausted. It's a bit hardr to be encouraging when your face is under water or everyone is zooming along on a bike, but I still really wanted to have the chance to form this kind of bond with the other participants. I definitely did, especially on the run, and also really enjoyed the majority of the race.
Pre-race
The main thing I can say about pre-race is: Murphy's law of triathlon. Don't fight it, just embrace it and deal as effectively as possible.
For example, several days before the race, I got some pretty nasty road rash on my elbow, hip, and knees. I was quite concerned about getting a wetsuit on and off. It turned out ok, Tegaderm bandages work miracles. I can't drive, and two days before my race it turned out my ride couldn't get me to Montreal until midnight the day before the race; for awhile I wasn't sure whether I could get a ride there at all. It turned out ok, the race director let me pick up the reg packet morning of the race. Some personal issues arose a couple of days before the race, in part because I was stressed about race-related stuff going wrong. It turned out ok, but wasted a lot of energy. En route to Montreal, we stopped at Subway and a scraggly looking guy on a bike made off with a couple of my water bottles that I'd sat down while loading the car. Um seriously, I'm not kidding. Thankfully I had extras. And so on...
Morning of the race, we get up at 4 am after only a few hours of sleep - ughhh. We left plenty of time to get to the race venue, located quite aways from our cheap hotel in the suburbs of Montreal, and it was a good thing because there was insane road construction that had shut down the highway and took us on a really long detour. It took a ton of concentration to keep following the sparsely placed French signs without getting lost. We finally arrive with less than an hour to go til race start and so much to do: pick up my race packet, mix my protein shakes for the bike, lay out everything for transition, bodymarking, waiting in line for the porta-potties, I even had to take off my front wheel to put the Champion chip on the skewer, and yes, the skewer was on way too tight and it took forever to get it loose.
I really, really did not want to be THAT dude - you know, the one who is sprinting from the transition area to the swim start with a wetsuit half on with just a few minutes to go til start. But it happened despite my efforts otherwise and it turned out ok. It was not ideal, and if I was doing it again, I would fork out the money to stay closer to the race start, to minimize the chance of having the very bad outcome of missing a race due to getting lost or hitting massive road construction. But at that point all I really cared was that I made it to the start line with a couple of minutes left to relax, and things had been so crazy that I didn't have time to get at all nervous.
Swim
My conjecture going into triathlon (which definitely turned out to be true) was that the toughest part of doing an Ironman would be to make it to the start line, relatively healthy and fit, with the necessary skills and equipment. So when the starting gun finally went off and we started the first lap of the two lap swim course around Montreal's Olympic rowing basin, I felt an enormous sense of relief. The swim start was not too aggressive, and it was hilarious when I took a breath to see a bunch of spectators walking (very!) slowly along the side of the rowing basin in which we were swimming, keeping pace with the swimmers and taking pictures. About 600 meters in, I started to get a headache from the goggle straps not being put on quite right, and more generally the first lap of the swim was surprisingly enough the overall low point of the day. By the second half of the first lap, I had that sick stomach feeling that I always get when I haven't slept enough the night before. I thought I might puke - yikes, the race had barely started! Besides the head and stomach, my draft was zig-zagging back and forth, and it was driving me crazy to stay on his feet. There was no way I could breach the gap between us and the next pack without expending way too much energy, and I found that it took slightly more energy to swim in a straight line by myself than to draft off the circuitous swimmer. Why wasn't anyone else passing us? Were we in dead last place? Seriously?
Running for a few meters between the first and second lap was the best feeling and gave me a fresh burst of energy for the second lap. I discovered that in fact I had not been in the back, and was able to hop behind the feet of a woman going at a relatively relaxed pace and take it a bit easier for the rest of the swim. The stomach ache started to go away. I contemplated going with a slightly faster swimmer who came by, but my calf started to cramp and I decided there was no way a few extra minutes I made up in the swim could be worth it if it wore me out for the rest of the day. My swim was almost 1:29, taking nearly three times as long as a half iron swim for an aquabike I'd done on tired arms and legs had taken a couple of weeks before. But it was well worth the lost time to stay relaxed, given that I had a long day ahead and my number one priority was to enjoy the race.
T1
Um, I seriously took nearly ten minutes in the first transition? Definitely need to work on hustling more if I do this again, you would think that I took a nap or called my mother... But in reality I just yanked off my wetsuit, praying it wouldn't irritate the road rash too much, and helped a guy in transition next to me who said he couldn't get his off by himself. Drank some protein shake, made sure I was smothered in sunscreen so I wouldn't fry uncovered slivers of skin like I had in the half iron race a couple of weeks ago, put on arm warmers, stuffed my pockets full, and changed my bike computer to just read off my power in giant numbers since I had unfortunately forgotten to do this before the race. And ran off with my bike...
Bike
The bike course consisted of 41 loops around a Formula 500 race track. It was pretty flat except for one hill each loop, which I used as an excuse to get out of the aero bars and stretch my back. The course had several tight turns each lap, and I definitely felt my lack of cycling experience come into play. There were a lot of racers in close proximity, and I thought during the first lap after some guy almost clipped my front wheel: ``it's not a matter of if I crash, it's when.'' A substantial number of riders were pedaling aggressively through the corners, but I had to lean my bike quite a bit to get through them in a tight line. Would I clip the ground with the inside pedal, wipe out, and potentially end my race if I tried to pedal through? I'd never pedaled through tight turns in training because the info on cornering I'd read said it wasn't a good idea, but I was falling behind on curves. What should I do? In the end I ended up playing it safe and focusing intently on leaning the bike the right amount so I could steer well clear of other riders and not worrying about pedaling. I definitely lost time and some momentum on the turns, but was so happy that I didn't crash or get a flat. There were also guys on motorcycles calling various people out for drafting, and I was really glad to avoid that.
When I started the bike, the pro half iron men were still on the track. It was pretty cool (and slightly horrifying) to hear the whoosh of disk wheels and suddenly be surrounded by a big pack of them pedaling past me at high speeds. Slowly the half iron people cleared, then came the Olympic, sprint, and duathlon people. After like four laps, I lost track of where I was and didn't figure it out again until the announcer yelled well into the race that I was on lap 26 of 41. It was pretty easy to get into a rhythm; my PRE felt a bit too high with the power I had planned to hold based on my long training rides, so I knocked it down 10 watts and it was fine. I ate gel every other lap, sipped perpetuem throughout, and made a few stops: once to pee, once to take off my arm warmers, and once to grab the special needs bag so I could reapply sunscreen.
I started counting down the laps with ten to go, and they went fairly fast. I was passing lots of the sprint and duathlon racers, which I have to admit was pretty fun. And finally felt an immense sense of relief to be off the bike and running it towards my rack in the transition zone. 5:38.
T2
I'd realized right before I dashed off for the swim that I hadn't laid out my Garmin. No way I can run without that. So the first line of business was dumping out my hiking backpack that I stowed next to my bike, fortunately found the Garmin without too much difficulty. I was convinced that these pesky bees who were in love with the gel flasks I'd laid out were going to sting me when I reclaimed my gel, but miraculously that didn't happen. I smothered my feet in blister ointment and put on a fresh pair of socks, which was the best investment ever. Totally saved my feet on the run. Pulled on running shoes; grabbed fresh gel flasks, gel chews, and my perpetuem fuel bottle; and I was off through a maze of bikes searching for the run start.
Run
Now it was only the run left, only a marathon... and running is what I do, one of my biggest passions. Spending the better part of an afternoon on a beautiful day outside running was almost heaven. Just almost, because 1) the run was on pavement (soooo hard on your body compared to dirt) and 2) given I'd already been out there for seven plus hours, I needed to choke down a lot of calories. But minor details, I love to run! My legs felt really good going into the run, looked down at my Garmin and was like ``yikes, I absolutely have to slow this way down.'' Due to a hamstring injury, I'd only been able to do a few moderate-to-long runs, and my goal was to keep the pace between 9:30 and 10:00 min/mile. The course looped around the rowing basin that we'd swam in earlier, with the loops just shy of 5 km each. I was in total ultra-running mentality. Translation: I knew that the most important thing I could do was to consume as much gel and perpetuem as I could, let the slightly queasy feeling in my stomach subside, and repeat. At a 100 mile race I did in Colorado last year, I seriously felt like it was a multi-sport event, some sort of combination between running and an Oscar Meyer wiener eating contest, where instead of shoving down hot dogs, the goal was to stuff down as many hammer gels as possible. The marathon of the tri had a similar feeling. At each aid station, I yelled out for two waters ahead of time, slowed down briefly to dump one over my head and used the other to water down the gel and perpetuem.
Eating aside, I loved the crowd support. Each time I came around the basin, there were crowds of people screaming in french, my boyfriend encouraging me on, and a squad of cheerleaders (like football game-style cheerleaders) who I'm convinced must have burned more energy doing loud cheers throughout the bike and run than any of the race participants. Once I settled in, I was holding the pace at a little bit under ten minutes, and it felt pretty decent besides for how tight my hips and hamstrings got. I loved having the course marked in kilometers and not miles, after thinking about all my training runs in terms of miles, it was so nice to have things broken up into smaller increments. I knew I might crash at some point, in which case the name of the game was to keep running, however slowly, until I got a fresh burst of energy. I knew from my ultra-marathon training that low points have upturns, as long as you keep eating and getting some sodium, and I can run through them. But thankfully, my pacing worked such that the crash didn't happen, and I was able to continue running at the same pace through to the finish line.
Finish and some general thoughts
By the time I finished, the other tris and duathlon were done, and the crowds had thinned out quite a bit. But it was nevertheless awesome, and I was really happy that I didn't need to go to the medical tent and was still able to walk (after my 100 miler, I tried somewhat unsuccessfully to walk into the hotel and the receptionist brought me a wheelchair, so did United Airlines:-). Yay, I'd actually trained for this event rather than doing only about half of the necessary training, and the result was that my body was actually prepared. And I absolutely loved that they gave out a super-plush, big finisher's sweatshirt to put on as soon as I crossed the finish line. So much better than an emergency blanket! I walked around a bit, talked to a guy from a Montreal foundation for visual impairment who'd noticed that I had albinism and was really excited I'd been able to do the race despite not having full vision. This was pretty cool, and it was nice to chat with him since he'd done the race for many years and had a great perspective on it. Then finally a massive ice bath and bed, I love being outside working hard all day, with other people who understand why this can be cool and lots of encouragement from the sidelines, great race overall!
I give the Esprit Triathlon really high marks. The organization was great, the volunteers were great, it is much cheaper than an ironman brand race, and it is barely commercialized. No powerbar, no gatorade, no cervelo ads all over the place... I did a half iron aquabike in Vermont a couple of weeks before this race; it was a great race, but was so commercialized that I felt like I was at some sort of radio party or something. Esprit, which has been around since 1974, felt more like a fun local tradition, that nevertheless had top caliber athletes. It doesn't have giant crowds of people screaming at the finish line, it doesn't have kona slots, and it doesn't have armies of volunteers to help you pull of your wetsuit, rack your bike, etc. But these things weren't very important to me, and I didn't see them as drawbacks. Another great thing is that it definitely feels like an authentic international experience, with most people cheering in French, but is within easy driving distance from New England. If you plan to do it, though, just be sure to learn to count to 41 in French, so that you can be sure to understand the lap countdown.
I also have some general tips on ironman training. First, know that it can be a lifestyle change, especially if you have little-to-no experience in a couple of the sports. A LOT of time is spent training, and it takes time to figure out all the gear and equipment that you need. It is also really expensive relative to a sport like running. Second, it is not necessary to have experience with shorter triathlons to do an ultra distance one. It does help a lot to have some endurance experience, either in the form of half iron triathlons or long distance racing in one of the disciplines.
Third, nutrition - and particularly getting enough protein and sodium during the race - is really, really important. I love perpetuem for protein, even though it tastes pretty gross. I use Nunn electrolyte tablets on the bike and salt stick pills on the run. In my training, I have found that I need a very precise amount of electrolytes not to feel sick and implement this in the race. Getting enough salt is hugely important to me, as I have extremely salty sweat and have had dangerously low levels of sodium in the past before I knew how important it was. I use hammer gel throughout. It's not my favorite gel, but a big jug of it is fairly cheap and convenient to squeeze into flasks. Gel chews can be nice for something different, but you may have trouble getting them liquified enough to swallow by the end of the race when your throat is unlikely to be working so great. It's also nice to have a couple of bars along on the bike in case your body demands solid food at lunch time, and I carry a bit of crystalized ginger, which can be good for upset stomach. Finally, I take a little bit of caffeine in the form of gels and chews, around 50 mg in two doses on the bike and 50 mg on the run. I don't consume much caffeine on a daily basis, so more than this upsets my stomach, but an appropriate dose will vary a lot depending on your tolerance.
Fourth, learn as much as you can about the physiology behind training. Phil Skyba has a couple of fantastic books, and there is a lot of information on the internet. Relatedly, read other people's race reports and learn as much about the event you are doing as possible. Fifth, try to find a swim coach if you can. I was lucky to have a fantastic coach, Bill Steele, through MIT triathlon. If you can't afford a coach, try to get feedback from friends with swimming experience and check out Swim Smooth, a great online resource about freestyle technique.
Sixth, plan for contingencies. If you get hurt, what's your backup race (I was originally going to do Lake Placid but couldn't due to an injury). Non-ironman iron distance races make great backup races, because they are more likely to have spots left close to race date. Seventh, prevent injuries by using a foam roller, doing some dynamic stretching exercises, making sure you have a good bike fit, and being careful to appropriately space your hard workouts. Seventh, learn some basic bike maintenance. For example, my seat kept on slipping down on long rides because I didn't know that I needed to grease the seat bolts. This hurt my knees, wasted good training time, and would have been avoidable if I'd learned a bit more beforehand. Finally, and most importantly, have as much fun as possible with it.
Quakertown, PA
9/11/10
Shaena Berlin:
Distance: This was a kind of odd distance, with a .6 mile swim, 39 mile bike, and 10k run. It seemed ideally suited for me, because it made the bike extra long compared to the run; since my bike is usually much better than my run, it seemed a recipe for success!
However, let me give an overview of the past three weeks: Three weeks ago, I went on a camping trip in Yellowstone National Park, a full 7 days without a bike (although it was a fairly active trip). When I got back, I rode ~30 miles two days in a row and then shipped my bike off to campus. 9 days later, I finally received it again, but then it was raining very hard so I couldn’t ride again until Thursday. Then, 7 miles in, my chain broke (so I “ran” back to campus in my bike shoes). Then I got in an 18-mile easy ride the day before the race. So, essentially, I didn’t ride for 3 weeks before this bike-centric tri. How depressing…
Anyway, Scott did a great job driving us the LONG way to Pennsylvania, mostly in the dark and at speeds that made me not want to look at the speedometer. I “navigated” with Google Maps on my phone, which mostly worked. We arrived just before midnight and went to sleep, grateful that at least this wasn’t a race we would have to wake up ridiculously early for.
Woke up in the morning and ate some DELICIOUS banana-zucchini-chocolate chip whole wheat oatmeal muffins (email me if you want the recipe; I’m trying to hide vegetables in my food, and this definitely worked)
Swim: .6++ miles/~21 minutes/~6th woman?/~30
The lake water was fairly warm, I’d say just below the legal wetsuit limit (mid-70’s), so the swim was quite pleasant. It was a bit crowded, though, and I may have accidentally groped a few people inappropriately – thank goodness for wetsuits!
I felt like I swam very well. Over the summer, I averaged a measly 1 hour per week in the pool, but the past 2 weeks I have gotten in a bit more and some real workouts; to my surprise and indignation, my times have improved by several seconds during my time not swimming (at least for fast 50s and up to 200 – haven’t tried anything above that). If only that would happen to my run…
Bike: 39.6 miles/~2:05 (19mph avg)/~4th woman
The bike course was very nice, with several long flat-ish sections and a few decent hills. I had some very bad shifting problems (my own fault – the other day, it was shifting weirdly so I messed with the derailleur things in the front, thinking that was the problem when in reality my chain just had a stiff link. My chain broke, I put it back together one link shorter, but I didn’t know how to change the derailleur settings back to the way they were), so I ended up in too hard of a gear for most of the race. My legs, which usually feel super strong, could definitely tell that I hadn’t ridden in 3 weeks. Still, I pushed through and managed a very good average time, though today some muscles are sore that I didn’t realize even existed. I kept going back and forth with a few people, strong men and tiny little women who would pass me on the uphill and say with a tone of superiority “Nice job, keep it up!” and who I would pass again a mile later when I powered down the flats.
Run: 10k/6.2 miles/~52 min/~9th woman
This was a very interesting run for me. Usually, I get to the run with still-strong legs but a very high and unpleasant heart rate and low blood sugar. This time, I started out with dead-feeling legs but barely breathed hard at all! That, I suppose, is the result of coming down to sea level after ~12 weeks at high altitude – a FABULOUS result, I might add. Almost makes the adjustment period when I go back worth it. Almost.
So I trotted along a rather hilly and completely-pavement (ouch) run course, weird inner-side-of-leg muscles threatening to cramp on the uphills due to my bike ride in too high of a gear. Drank some Gatorade at the aid stations, turned around, trotted back, felt glad to be almost done when some people were still on mile 1. I figured that with my current running state if I ran a 50, that would be fantastic, while if I ran a 55, that would be acceptable; I came in at 52 min, which made me happy enough. I actually have been running quite a bit (though still not nearly as much as when I used to run cross-country), but I have never been a fast runner and much prefer trails to roads, so speed isn’t really my objective.
Results: Disappointingly, the timers did not receive a chip time for me! I am not sure if it was because they gave me the wrong chip (at packet pick-up they switched my race number, saying the old one had problems – I guess the new one may have too), or because the chip was faulty. There were several others who complained about not being in the results, and apparently a few people who were in the results but never actually showed up for the race. In any case, I timed it roughly on my watch and told them what I thought my finish time was (between 3:21 and 3:22, with a 21-min swim, 2:05 bike, and 52 min run, then approx. 2 min T1 and 1 min T2). Unfortunately, they decided to enter me in at 3:23:00, which dropped my placing by a few collegiate women and took me out of 3rd place for the under-24 women (but I wouldn’t have gotten a prize anyway, since they scored collegiate separately).
I just hope that the time still counts and doesn’t drop me too far in the USA Triathlon Rankings; before this race, I was ranked #12 in my age category nationally, and I would quite like to keep it that way or improve. Hard to believe that I’m even the same person who came in 2nd-to-last in the entire state in cross-country and couldn’t even run 3 miles just 5 years ago!
It was an enjoyable race and good distance, but very far away from Boston; maybe next year they will re-add Lobsterman to the NECTC schedule, because that was a wonderful and nearby race.
Age Group World Championships 2010
9/12/2010
Budapest, Hungary
Zuzka Trnovcova:
Originally one of my A races, due to a difficult last semester and summer at
MIT, I ended up far from being in top shape for this event. Despite the fear of
huge embarrassment, I did not want to give up yet another race this season. So
after many ups and downs, both in Cambridge and at home (Bratislava, Slovakia),
fighting my fears, lack of motivation, as well as common laziness, I arrived in
Budapest this Friday ? with my mom, my brother, 3 bikes and 4 sets of wheels
(a bike for each of us + my disc wheel and trispoke for the race).
The fun started on Saturday morning, when we left our hotel bright and early to
cheer on my US friends, whom I met at the last year?s World Championships in
Australia, this year competing in the Sprint World Championship. I got to see
all of them getting on the bike and one of them running and loved their
surprised but happy looks when they heard and saw me and my family :-) The
drizzle gradually changed into heavy rain as we watched the following U23 women
category (including a girl from Czech Republic who we all raced against back in
Slovakia and who I beat a year ago ;-) - unfortunately due to her bike
crash?) The U23 were swimming 2 laps of the sprint course and were very fast
and organized in the water ? except for a few stragglers, they swam in a
tight pack, which disintegrated a little bit only in the last quarter of the
race ? a fascinating thing to watch ;-)
After my friends were off for the run, which finished 5km from the transition
area and race center, we came back to hotel to get dry and to get my bike ready
for the evening mandatory bike check in. And that?s where a little drama
began? It turned out that the pump that we brought was more of a mountain
bike pump and by pumping my front wheel to 120psi, the pump started leaking
from its side (personally, I think it was not completely alright to start with,
but oh well). So as we kept pumping my rear wheel, it went from about 90psi to
maybe 40? I started getting nervous. My brother kept trying to fix the pump
by reassembling it and lubing it everywhere he could think of. But it would not
work? Finally, he took out a hand pump and managed to pump up the wheel to
about 60psi, while sweating out a gallon :-) Even though I really appreciated
his effort, I got pretty impatient and insisted on heading to the race center
right away to find a pump. However, before we got to the car, the wheel
deflated almost completely. I forced myself to believe that it was because my
brother forgot to close the valve after he pumped it up? Just in case, we
also pumped up my regular, not-so-aero wheels at the bike service and headed
over for some sightseeing. Unfortunately, before we left the car to see the
castle district, the disc wheel deflated again. My biggest fear became true ?
I got a flat tire on a tubular and did not know how to change it, nor had
anything to change it. My brother assured me that they will have something at
the bike service, but I was hesitant, so the two hours we were sightseeing I
could not stop thinking about my poor disc wheel and how ?terrible? it will
be racing on a regular wheel after I lugged a special wheel case for my disc and
trispoke across the Atlantic? So I rushed my family back to the bike mechanic
an hour before the start of my mandatory bike check-in, determined that I would
pay anything to get my disc fixed. As one would guess for a bike mechanic at
triathlon world championships, they had extra tubulars and knew how to replace
them. I was greatly relieved, even after they charged us 58 Euros.
The second pre-race mini-drama happened at the transition entrance. A young,
strict but not very trustworthy looking lady told me that the front wheel must
have at least 12 spokes. I was pretty sure that I saw many people around with 3
and 4 spokes in front, so I tried to argue my way out, but she relentlessly
wrote my number down and said that one of the officials will go check my front
wheel in the morning. I was desperate one more time and so I spent part of my
evening researching ITU rules to prove her wrong and hoped that someone more
knowledgeable will be there in the morning?
The following morning I woke up at 4:45am and felt pretty non-dramatic ? like
before just another race... I just hoped my wheels survived the night. And they
did. I did a very ?leisure? warm-up ? running around for maybe 5 minutes
total and then swinging my arms around like everyone else did. This was
probably not enough? Unfortunately, we were not allowed to have a swim
warm-up (what a stupid rule!) and they allowed us to enter the water and hold
on the pontoon only 30 seconds before the start, so after the gun went off, I
was pretty shocked by the 59F water and resorted to swimming breast stroke for
the first few minutes. In addition, my goggles were leaking, so I stopped
several times and tried to fix them. I was getting really behind and the
kayakers asked me if I was OK. I was, except that the water was cold and I was
getting nowhere. After 5 or 10 minutes, I got accustomed to the water and my
goggles, though foggy, held tight on my face, so I actually started swimming
normally and catching up with one swimmer in front of me. Eventually I passed
her and was swimming very close to the second to last swimmer (out of 56
starters), which made me pretty happy since last year I was last out of the
water :-)
Running through the transition felt pretty hard, which was probably a good
indicator that I was not slacking too much in the water. It took me some time
to get to a steady pace on the bike. After that I was cruising and managed to
pass a couple girls and one guy. I got passed by a lot of guys and towards the
end by quite a few 25-29 year old girls. However, towards the end I was running
out of steam, so I was trying to drink more and as a result got passed back by 2
or 3 girls. My mom and brother were cheering on me loudly during each of the 3
laps, which felt great. Towards the end of the bike, I was ready to be done
(with the bike and everything), but unfortunately, I still had to run 10K?
Transition 2 felt even harder than transition 1. My back hurt and running was
hard too. Just running through the transition was at least 1/6 of a mile if not
more. I managed the transition OK, leaving for the run without socks. My mom and
brother were cheering on me right outside of the transition before they headed
back to the hotel to eat their breakfast (since my finish was 5km from the
transition and it would be cumbersome for them to transport themselves there).
The run was in beautiful scenery ? first along the Danube, then in the city
center. I saw a lot of nice buildings, bridges and boats. However, I was
running very slowly. I felt tired and didn?t want to overdo it, but I still
got cramps in the side of my stomach (or lungs?) with maybe 2 miles to go. I
walked a bit, but it would not go away, so I walked-ran for a while and then
after one of the British athletes tapped me on my back and told me that I can
do it, I resorted to my slow run again? I drank twice during the run, which
is also unusual for me because I usually don?t drink at all during the run in
an Olympic distance. Another confusing situation arose with the laps on the run.
We were supposed to run 5K along the river and then do 2 laps around the city
center. But the laps were really unclear, so on the second lap, I was trying to
ask several slower runners whether I was supposed to do one more lap or I was
done. It turned out I was going to be done very soon (had I known it sooner, I
might have run faster, but one can always say that, so I won?t elaborate
here), so I sped up for the last 1/6 of a mile or so and did a very lame
?sprint? and was done ? yay ? relief? My US friends were waiting for
me at the finish and we took a boat back to the race center/transition area
where my mom and brother were waiting for me.
I didn?t have any expectations of this race, so I was not too upset at when I
finished 51st out of 55 finishers (I guess one girl did not finish?) with a
time of 2:38:00 (this seemed an OK time, but it was actually pretty slow since
the first girl in my age group finished in 2:01:18). My split times were
nothing surprising either:
Swimming: 32:54 (54th ? considering the initial chaos, it was surprisingly
good)
T1: 3:27 (50th ? as I said, the transition was really big?)
Bike: 1:02:32 (39th ? the bike was entirely flat and the fastest girl in my AG
did it in 55:48)
T2: 3:26 (51th)
Run: 55:40 (50th ? my worst 10K race time ever ? oh well, but considering I
had to walk and the last 2 miles hurt quite a bit, it was OK?)
Full results can be found here:
http://www.triathlon.org/results/event/2010_dextro_energy_triathlon_-_itu_triathlon_world_championship_grand_final/1338/
and a news article here:
http://www.triathlon.org/news/article/2800_age_groupers_compete_in_world_champs/.
Being my last race of a not very good season, I?m happy the Worlds are over
and after a month or so of totally unstructured activities, I?m going to
start training again. Should be good. And I believe next year Worlds in Beijing
will be much better.
Espirit Triathlon (Ironman Distance)
9/11/2010
Montreal, Canada
Melissa Dell:
Time: 11:41:46 (S: 1:28:51/T1: 9:56/B: 5:38:14/T2: 7:49/R: 4:16:57)
This past Saturday, I finally did my first triathlon, an iron distance race in Montreal. My goals going into it were pretty basic: I wanted to have fun and when the opportunity arose, I wanted to be able to encourage other participants. Ok, maybe this sounds a little cheesy or cliche, but for me, the essence of doing ultra distance events is about forming a bond with other participants, people who don't even know your name but who share a very particular passion and the experience of doing one of these events. In my first ultra distance race a few years ago, a 56 mile run in South Africa, I started to feel really dizzy and sick during the latter part of the race due to low sodium, as the aid stations had run out of salt. Some random participant saw that I was struggling and asked if there was anything she could do to help. When I explained that I needed salt, she walked with me for a mile and asked every single person by the side of the road cheering for salt until we found someone who did. I felt much better and was able to safely finish the race, with the encouragement of lots of people who were themselves exhausted. It's a bit hardr to be encouraging when your face is under water or everyone is zooming along on a bike, but I still really wanted to have the chance to form this kind of bond with the other participants. I definitely did, especially on the run, and also really enjoyed the majority of the race.
Pre-race
The main thing I can say about pre-race is: Murphy's law of triathlon. Don't fight it, just embrace it and deal as effectively as possible.
For example, several days before the race, I got some pretty nasty road rash on my elbow, hip, and knees. I was quite concerned about getting a wetsuit on and off. It turned out ok, Tegaderm bandages work miracles. I can't drive, and two days before my race it turned out my ride couldn't get me to Montreal until midnight the day before the race; for awhile I wasn't sure whether I could get a ride there at all. It turned out ok, the race director let me pick up the reg packet morning of the race. Some personal issues arose a couple of days before the race, in part because I was stressed about race-related stuff going wrong. It turned out ok, but wasted a lot of energy. En route to Montreal, we stopped at Subway and a scraggly looking guy on a bike made off with a couple of my water bottles that I'd sat down while loading the car. Um seriously, I'm not kidding. Thankfully I had extras. And so on...
Morning of the race, we get up at 4 am after only a few hours of sleep - ughhh. We left plenty of time to get to the race venue, located quite aways from our cheap hotel in the suburbs of Montreal, and it was a good thing because there was insane road construction that had shut down the highway and took us on a really long detour. It took a ton of concentration to keep following the sparsely placed French signs without getting lost. We finally arrive with less than an hour to go til race start and so much to do: pick up my race packet, mix my protein shakes for the bike, lay out everything for transition, bodymarking, waiting in line for the porta-potties, I even had to take off my front wheel to put the Champion chip on the skewer, and yes, the skewer was on way too tight and it took forever to get it loose.
I really, really did not want to be THAT dude - you know, the one who is sprinting from the transition area to the swim start with a wetsuit half on with just a few minutes to go til start. But it happened despite my efforts otherwise and it turned out ok. It was not ideal, and if I was doing it again, I would fork out the money to stay closer to the race start, to minimize the chance of having the very bad outcome of missing a race due to getting lost or hitting massive road construction. But at that point all I really cared was that I made it to the start line with a couple of minutes left to relax, and things had been so crazy that I didn't have time to get at all nervous.
Swim
My conjecture going into triathlon (which definitely turned out to be true) was that the toughest part of doing an Ironman would be to make it to the start line, relatively healthy and fit, with the necessary skills and equipment. So when the starting gun finally went off and we started the first lap of the two lap swim course around Montreal's Olympic rowing basin, I felt an enormous sense of relief. The swim start was not too aggressive, and it was hilarious when I took a breath to see a bunch of spectators walking (very!) slowly along the side of the rowing basin in which we were swimming, keeping pace with the swimmers and taking pictures. About 600 meters in, I started to get a headache from the goggle straps not being put on quite right, and more generally the first lap of the swim was surprisingly enough the overall low point of the day. By the second half of the first lap, I had that sick stomach feeling that I always get when I haven't slept enough the night before. I thought I might puke - yikes, the race had barely started! Besides the head and stomach, my draft was zig-zagging back and forth, and it was driving me crazy to stay on his feet. There was no way I could breach the gap between us and the next pack without expending way too much energy, and I found that it took slightly more energy to swim in a straight line by myself than to draft off the circuitous swimmer. Why wasn't anyone else passing us? Were we in dead last place? Seriously?
Running for a few meters between the first and second lap was the best feeling and gave me a fresh burst of energy for the second lap. I discovered that in fact I had not been in the back, and was able to hop behind the feet of a woman going at a relatively relaxed pace and take it a bit easier for the rest of the swim. The stomach ache started to go away. I contemplated going with a slightly faster swimmer who came by, but my calf started to cramp and I decided there was no way a few extra minutes I made up in the swim could be worth it if it wore me out for the rest of the day. My swim was almost 1:29, taking nearly three times as long as a half iron swim for an aquabike I'd done on tired arms and legs had taken a couple of weeks before. But it was well worth the lost time to stay relaxed, given that I had a long day ahead and my number one priority was to enjoy the race.
T1
Um, I seriously took nearly ten minutes in the first transition? Definitely need to work on hustling more if I do this again, you would think that I took a nap or called my mother... But in reality I just yanked off my wetsuit, praying it wouldn't irritate the road rash too much, and helped a guy in transition next to me who said he couldn't get his off by himself. Drank some protein shake, made sure I was smothered in sunscreen so I wouldn't fry uncovered slivers of skin like I had in the half iron race a couple of weeks ago, put on arm warmers, stuffed my pockets full, and changed my bike computer to just read off my power in giant numbers since I had unfortunately forgotten to do this before the race. And ran off with my bike...
Bike
The bike course consisted of 41 loops around a Formula 500 race track. It was pretty flat except for one hill each loop, which I used as an excuse to get out of the aero bars and stretch my back. The course had several tight turns each lap, and I definitely felt my lack of cycling experience come into play. There were a lot of racers in close proximity, and I thought during the first lap after some guy almost clipped my front wheel: ``it's not a matter of if I crash, it's when.'' A substantial number of riders were pedaling aggressively through the corners, but I had to lean my bike quite a bit to get through them in a tight line. Would I clip the ground with the inside pedal, wipe out, and potentially end my race if I tried to pedal through? I'd never pedaled through tight turns in training because the info on cornering I'd read said it wasn't a good idea, but I was falling behind on curves. What should I do? In the end I ended up playing it safe and focusing intently on leaning the bike the right amount so I could steer well clear of other riders and not worrying about pedaling. I definitely lost time and some momentum on the turns, but was so happy that I didn't crash or get a flat. There were also guys on motorcycles calling various people out for drafting, and I was really glad to avoid that.
When I started the bike, the pro half iron men were still on the track. It was pretty cool (and slightly horrifying) to hear the whoosh of disk wheels and suddenly be surrounded by a big pack of them pedaling past me at high speeds. Slowly the half iron people cleared, then came the Olympic, sprint, and duathlon people. After like four laps, I lost track of where I was and didn't figure it out again until the announcer yelled well into the race that I was on lap 26 of 41. It was pretty easy to get into a rhythm; my PRE felt a bit too high with the power I had planned to hold based on my long training rides, so I knocked it down 10 watts and it was fine. I ate gel every other lap, sipped perpetuem throughout, and made a few stops: once to pee, once to take off my arm warmers, and once to grab the special needs bag so I could reapply sunscreen.
I started counting down the laps with ten to go, and they went fairly fast. I was passing lots of the sprint and duathlon racers, which I have to admit was pretty fun. And finally felt an immense sense of relief to be off the bike and running it towards my rack in the transition zone. 5:38.
T2
I'd realized right before I dashed off for the swim that I hadn't laid out my Garmin. No way I can run without that. So the first line of business was dumping out my hiking backpack that I stowed next to my bike, fortunately found the Garmin without too much difficulty. I was convinced that these pesky bees who were in love with the gel flasks I'd laid out were going to sting me when I reclaimed my gel, but miraculously that didn't happen. I smothered my feet in blister ointment and put on a fresh pair of socks, which was the best investment ever. Totally saved my feet on the run. Pulled on running shoes; grabbed fresh gel flasks, gel chews, and my perpetuem fuel bottle; and I was off through a maze of bikes searching for the run start.
Run
Now it was only the run left, only a marathon... and running is what I do, one of my biggest passions. Spending the better part of an afternoon on a beautiful day outside running was almost heaven. Just almost, because 1) the run was on pavement (soooo hard on your body compared to dirt) and 2) given I'd already been out there for seven plus hours, I needed to choke down a lot of calories. But minor details, I love to run! My legs felt really good going into the run, looked down at my Garmin and was like ``yikes, I absolutely have to slow this way down.'' Due to a hamstring injury, I'd only been able to do a few moderate-to-long runs, and my goal was to keep the pace between 9:30 and 10:00 min/mile. The course looped around the rowing basin that we'd swam in earlier, with the loops just shy of 5 km each. I was in total ultra-running mentality. Translation: I knew that the most important thing I could do was to consume as much gel and perpetuem as I could, let the slightly queasy feeling in my stomach subside, and repeat. At a 100 mile race I did in Colorado last year, I seriously felt like it was a multi-sport event, some sort of combination between running and an Oscar Meyer wiener eating contest, where instead of shoving down hot dogs, the goal was to stuff down as many hammer gels as possible. The marathon of the tri had a similar feeling. At each aid station, I yelled out for two waters ahead of time, slowed down briefly to dump one over my head and used the other to water down the gel and perpetuem.
Eating aside, I loved the crowd support. Each time I came around the basin, there were crowds of people screaming in french, my boyfriend encouraging me on, and a squad of cheerleaders (like football game-style cheerleaders) who I'm convinced must have burned more energy doing loud cheers throughout the bike and run than any of the race participants. Once I settled in, I was holding the pace at a little bit under ten minutes, and it felt pretty decent besides for how tight my hips and hamstrings got. I loved having the course marked in kilometers and not miles, after thinking about all my training runs in terms of miles, it was so nice to have things broken up into smaller increments. I knew I might crash at some point, in which case the name of the game was to keep running, however slowly, until I got a fresh burst of energy. I knew from my ultra-marathon training that low points have upturns, as long as you keep eating and getting some sodium, and I can run through them. But thankfully, my pacing worked such that the crash didn't happen, and I was able to continue running at the same pace through to the finish line.
Finish and some general thoughts
By the time I finished, the other tris and duathlon were done, and the crowds had thinned out quite a bit. But it was nevertheless awesome, and I was really happy that I didn't need to go to the medical tent and was still able to walk (after my 100 miler, I tried somewhat unsuccessfully to walk into the hotel and the receptionist brought me a wheelchair, so did United Airlines:-). Yay, I'd actually trained for this event rather than doing only about half of the necessary training, and the result was that my body was actually prepared. And I absolutely loved that they gave out a super-plush, big finisher's sweatshirt to put on as soon as I crossed the finish line. So much better than an emergency blanket! I walked around a bit, talked to a guy from a Montreal foundation for visual impairment who'd noticed that I had albinism and was really excited I'd been able to do the race despite not having full vision. This was pretty cool, and it was nice to chat with him since he'd done the race for many years and had a great perspective on it. Then finally a massive ice bath and bed, I love being outside working hard all day, with other people who understand why this can be cool and lots of encouragement from the sidelines, great race overall!
I give the Esprit Triathlon really high marks. The organization was great, the volunteers were great, it is much cheaper than an ironman brand race, and it is barely commercialized. No powerbar, no gatorade, no cervelo ads all over the place... I did a half iron aquabike in Vermont a couple of weeks before this race; it was a great race, but was so commercialized that I felt like I was at some sort of radio party or something. Esprit, which has been around since 1974, felt more like a fun local tradition, that nevertheless had top caliber athletes. It doesn't have giant crowds of people screaming at the finish line, it doesn't have kona slots, and it doesn't have armies of volunteers to help you pull of your wetsuit, rack your bike, etc. But these things weren't very important to me, and I didn't see them as drawbacks. Another great thing is that it definitely feels like an authentic international experience, with most people cheering in French, but is within easy driving distance from New England. If you plan to do it, though, just be sure to learn to count to 41 in French, so that you can be sure to understand the lap countdown.
I also have some general tips on ironman training. First, know that it can be a lifestyle change, especially if you have little-to-no experience in a couple of the sports. A LOT of time is spent training, and it takes time to figure out all the gear and equipment that you need. It is also really expensive relative to a sport like running. Second, it is not necessary to have experience with shorter triathlons to do an ultra distance one. It does help a lot to have some endurance experience, either in the form of half iron triathlons or long distance racing in one of the disciplines.
Third, nutrition - and particularly getting enough protein and sodium during the race - is really, really important. I love perpetuem for protein, even though it tastes pretty gross. I use Nunn electrolyte tablets on the bike and salt stick pills on the run. In my training, I have found that I need a very precise amount of electrolytes not to feel sick and implement this in the race. Getting enough salt is hugely important to me, as I have extremely salty sweat and have had dangerously low levels of sodium in the past before I knew how important it was. I use hammer gel throughout. It's not my favorite gel, but a big jug of it is fairly cheap and convenient to squeeze into flasks. Gel chews can be nice for something different, but you may have trouble getting them liquified enough to swallow by the end of the race when your throat is unlikely to be working so great. It's also nice to have a couple of bars along on the bike in case your body demands solid food at lunch time, and I carry a bit of crystalized ginger, which can be good for upset stomach. Finally, I take a little bit of caffeine in the form of gels and chews, around 50 mg in two doses on the bike and 50 mg on the run. I don't consume much caffeine on a daily basis, so more than this upsets my stomach, but an appropriate dose will vary a lot depending on your tolerance.
Fourth, learn as much as you can about the physiology behind training. Phil Skyba has a couple of fantastic books, and there is a lot of information on the internet. Relatedly, read other people's race reports and learn as much about the event you are doing as possible. Fifth, try to find a swim coach if you can. I was lucky to have a fantastic coach, Bill Steele, through MIT triathlon. If you can't afford a coach, try to get feedback from friends with swimming experience and check out Swim Smooth, a great online resource about freestyle technique.
Sixth, plan for contingencies. If you get hurt, what's your backup race (I was originally going to do Lake Placid but couldn't due to an injury). Non-ironman iron distance races make great backup races, because they are more likely to have spots left close to race date. Seventh, prevent injuries by using a foam roller, doing some dynamic stretching exercises, making sure you have a good bike fit, and being careful to appropriately space your hard workouts. Seventh, learn some basic bike maintenance. For example, my seat kept on slipping down on long rides because I didn't know that I needed to grease the seat bolts. This hurt my knees, wasted good training time, and would have been avoidable if I'd learned a bit more beforehand. Finally, and most importantly, have as much fun as possible with it.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Headwaters 1/2 Iron - Bozeman, Montana
Headwaters Half Iron
7/25/2010
Bozeman, Montana
-Shaena Berlin
On Saturday, I drove up to Bozeman, Montana (4.5 hours away) to compete in a small, rural half ironman race, the Headwaters Half. There were 40 entries total, and I was the only one in the 19-and-under age group – as long as I finished, I would win! Anyway, it seemed like a good pick for my first Half, because (1) the registration fees were much lower than the big events, (2) it was close to home (relatively – living in the West, the scale of “close” becomes rather large), and (3) the course was supposed to be pretty fast and reasonably easy.
Point (3) was overthrown about a week ago, when the race directors realized that extensive construction over the road where the bike was supposed to take place would not be done in time for the race. Originally, the race would begin 15 miles west of Bozeman in Three Forks. So, they did the best they could and moved the entire race into Bozeman itself. Instead of a flat, fast bike course with one big climb at the turnaround, it was now a grueling mountain pass. Still, the swim venue wouldn’t be noticeably different, and the run course looked flat, so it seemed that there might remain a possibility for a nice low time. Also, it was at “low” altitude (i.e. 4000 feet above sea level, and I live at 6200). Yay!
Swim: 1.2 miles (+all of my swerving around), 40:02, 67oF (water), 55oF (air) I really haven’t been swimming much this summer, for a couple of reasons: First of all, the swim is such a small part of a triathlon, especially once you get to the Half distance, that it really didn’t deserve a ton of my time. Second, when living in one of the most beautiful outdoorsy towns in America, it seems almost a crime to spend too much time swimming laps inside. Anyway, I always have done perfectly fine in the swim, even before I started training with Coach Bill (although I improved immensely and noticeably throughout the school year while doing that training).
The swim course was three clockwise laps, with a funny stipulation that we get out of the water and run across a point of sand in between each lap (I think this was so they could keep track of us and make sure we all did the full distance – no fancy timing chips or anything at this race!). That was kind of a drag, definitely messed up the flow of things, but overall the swim was fine. The water seemed unbearably warm (they said it was 67, but I don’t believe them; either that, or my recent daily short plunges into our glacial meltoff river really have acclimated me to cold water).
So, I finished in something ridiculous for how little I’ve been swimming (~12th place overall, 3rd/15 women) and moved on to the bike.
T1: 1:45 – realized how much easier the transition is without numb fingers!
Bike: 56.6 miles, 2000 feet of climbing, 3:33, 55-85oF The bike was rather more brutal than expected, but I ride quite a bit so did reasonably well. The first 21 miles were mostly climbing, sometimes gradual, sometimes steep. Plus there must have been a few significant downhills (which I don’t remember riding down, but certainly remember riding back up on the way back). At the top of Battle Creek Ridge, there was an aid station where they gave us water bottles with water or Heed. As a side note, I had never tried Heed before (yes, I know, you’re not supposed to try anything new on race day, but I couldn’t help it), and it was DELICIOUS and didn’t even hurt my stomach during the run. I think watermelon flavored. Anyway, I think I’ll buy it again in the future. Also, I was excited for the bottles, because I labeled my own bottles with my name and picked them up after the race, and then I ended up with two more nice ones! I guess I’m a loser cyclist, because I really have a pitifully small stash of bottles.
Then there was an 8-mile descent/flats, then back up. I started swearing at the flies and bees that I suspected of wanting to sting me in hopes of stealing some of my Shot Bloks; maybe I was a bit crazy from lack of food/water, but they do sting me on a regular basis when I have sugary things in my back pockets.
Finally, I reached the top of the pass again and started a flying descent back to the transition area (with the exception of two particularly nasty and surprising uphills). My original time goal for the bike was 3:20, since I recently did a mountainous 110-mile ride that averaged 17mph and thus figured I could carry that pace into the triathlon. However, a combination of WAY more climbing than expected and not drafting with anyone made me miss it slightly, coming in at 3:33. Usually the bike is my strong point, but I think it must have been the strong point of a lot of these women because I ended up in 7th
T2: 1:21
Run: 13.1 miles, 2:30, 85-90oF
Oh, the run, how I’d looked forward to running a half-marathon after already racing for ~4 hours (not).
The first mile of the run, I felt GREAT. Psyched, I thought that it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as I had thought; I did a few big long brick workouts in the mountains, and this course was flat, and I felt relaxed and fast (for me).
After the first mile, I realized how hot it was outside, and I felt terrible. I know many of you probably don’t think that 85-90 is that hot, but you also probably don’t typically go skiing in May-June. I had fueled myself as well as possible during the bike, but I was just losing water like crazy. At the aid station, I had them put some ice into the water bottle I was carrying, but between there and the next aid station (a nasty 3 miles away), my drink was so hot that it barely helped at all. I started shivering, which seemed like a bad thing, so I slowed down and basically stumbled along until the aid station, where I replenished my ice. Surprisingly, I finished the first 6.5 mile lap in 66 minutes, which didn’t seem nearly as bad as I expected. (I am not a fast runner, but can usually manage a sub-2 hour half-marathon. However, for walking and stumbling a large portion of the course, 10-minute miles was not bad at all)
Second lap was worse. The course started with a 1.5 mile out-and back lollipop, which took me 15 minutes the first lap and 25 the second. It was dreadful, and I was trying to ration the liquid I took in because my stomach usually cramps up when I drink too much while running. After the aid station, I decided that that method wasn’t working, so I set little miniature goals every couple hundred yards and let myself drink sips of ice water upon achieving each one. Unfortunately, about 1.5 miles into the 3 miles between aid stations, my water supply was quite low and also quite hot again. I felt the shivers coming on, and a throat closing with despair at how far I had already come and how impossibly far the remaining 3.5 miles sounded. So I walked for a minute, then stumbled along some more.
.5 miles from the finish, my calf gave a couple of spasms, and it felt like the bottom of my foot was going to seize up – electrolyte depletion or something? I was glad to almost be done, before my body freaked out any more. Crossed the finish line in 6:47, in 7th place out of the 12 women finishers (several dropped out during the run)
My overall goal had been sub-6, readjusted to sub-6:30 once the course was changed…Not good, but considering I almost never run in temperatures above even 70 degrees (since I run in the mornings when I wake up, when it’s usually around 40-50), surviving a run in the heat was an accomplishment.
Lessons learned:
1) Buy a sleeveless wetsuit someday
2) Get some HEED watermelon
3) Always have a depleted water bottle so there is an excuse to take a new free one at an aid station
4) Doesn’t matter how much I push on the bike, I’ll always feel like crap on the run anyway so may as well go all out (as long as I’ve done enough brick workouts beforehand)
5) Bring along a race crew or someone who is willing to drive around and dump ice or ice water all over me when I vainly attempt to run in the heat (or, alternatively, perhaps I should do my longer races in the spring, fall, or winter, when it’s cold)
-Shaena
7/25/2010
Bozeman, Montana
-Shaena Berlin
On Saturday, I drove up to Bozeman, Montana (4.5 hours away) to compete in a small, rural half ironman race, the Headwaters Half. There were 40 entries total, and I was the only one in the 19-and-under age group – as long as I finished, I would win! Anyway, it seemed like a good pick for my first Half, because (1) the registration fees were much lower than the big events, (2) it was close to home (relatively – living in the West, the scale of “close” becomes rather large), and (3) the course was supposed to be pretty fast and reasonably easy.
Point (3) was overthrown about a week ago, when the race directors realized that extensive construction over the road where the bike was supposed to take place would not be done in time for the race. Originally, the race would begin 15 miles west of Bozeman in Three Forks. So, they did the best they could and moved the entire race into Bozeman itself. Instead of a flat, fast bike course with one big climb at the turnaround, it was now a grueling mountain pass. Still, the swim venue wouldn’t be noticeably different, and the run course looked flat, so it seemed that there might remain a possibility for a nice low time. Also, it was at “low” altitude (i.e. 4000 feet above sea level, and I live at 6200). Yay!
Swim: 1.2 miles (+all of my swerving around), 40:02, 67oF (water), 55oF (air) I really haven’t been swimming much this summer, for a couple of reasons: First of all, the swim is such a small part of a triathlon, especially once you get to the Half distance, that it really didn’t deserve a ton of my time. Second, when living in one of the most beautiful outdoorsy towns in America, it seems almost a crime to spend too much time swimming laps inside. Anyway, I always have done perfectly fine in the swim, even before I started training with Coach Bill (although I improved immensely and noticeably throughout the school year while doing that training).
The swim course was three clockwise laps, with a funny stipulation that we get out of the water and run across a point of sand in between each lap (I think this was so they could keep track of us and make sure we all did the full distance – no fancy timing chips or anything at this race!). That was kind of a drag, definitely messed up the flow of things, but overall the swim was fine. The water seemed unbearably warm (they said it was 67, but I don’t believe them; either that, or my recent daily short plunges into our glacial meltoff river really have acclimated me to cold water).
So, I finished in something ridiculous for how little I’ve been swimming (~12th place overall, 3rd/15 women) and moved on to the bike.
T1: 1:45 – realized how much easier the transition is without numb fingers!
Bike: 56.6 miles, 2000 feet of climbing, 3:33, 55-85oF The bike was rather more brutal than expected, but I ride quite a bit so did reasonably well. The first 21 miles were mostly climbing, sometimes gradual, sometimes steep. Plus there must have been a few significant downhills (which I don’t remember riding down, but certainly remember riding back up on the way back). At the top of Battle Creek Ridge, there was an aid station where they gave us water bottles with water or Heed. As a side note, I had never tried Heed before (yes, I know, you’re not supposed to try anything new on race day, but I couldn’t help it), and it was DELICIOUS and didn’t even hurt my stomach during the run. I think watermelon flavored. Anyway, I think I’ll buy it again in the future. Also, I was excited for the bottles, because I labeled my own bottles with my name and picked them up after the race, and then I ended up with two more nice ones! I guess I’m a loser cyclist, because I really have a pitifully small stash of bottles.
Then there was an 8-mile descent/flats, then back up. I started swearing at the flies and bees that I suspected of wanting to sting me in hopes of stealing some of my Shot Bloks; maybe I was a bit crazy from lack of food/water, but they do sting me on a regular basis when I have sugary things in my back pockets.
Finally, I reached the top of the pass again and started a flying descent back to the transition area (with the exception of two particularly nasty and surprising uphills). My original time goal for the bike was 3:20, since I recently did a mountainous 110-mile ride that averaged 17mph and thus figured I could carry that pace into the triathlon. However, a combination of WAY more climbing than expected and not drafting with anyone made me miss it slightly, coming in at 3:33. Usually the bike is my strong point, but I think it must have been the strong point of a lot of these women because I ended up in 7th
T2: 1:21
Run: 13.1 miles, 2:30, 85-90oF
Oh, the run, how I’d looked forward to running a half-marathon after already racing for ~4 hours (not).
The first mile of the run, I felt GREAT. Psyched, I thought that it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as I had thought; I did a few big long brick workouts in the mountains, and this course was flat, and I felt relaxed and fast (for me).
After the first mile, I realized how hot it was outside, and I felt terrible. I know many of you probably don’t think that 85-90 is that hot, but you also probably don’t typically go skiing in May-June. I had fueled myself as well as possible during the bike, but I was just losing water like crazy. At the aid station, I had them put some ice into the water bottle I was carrying, but between there and the next aid station (a nasty 3 miles away), my drink was so hot that it barely helped at all. I started shivering, which seemed like a bad thing, so I slowed down and basically stumbled along until the aid station, where I replenished my ice. Surprisingly, I finished the first 6.5 mile lap in 66 minutes, which didn’t seem nearly as bad as I expected. (I am not a fast runner, but can usually manage a sub-2 hour half-marathon. However, for walking and stumbling a large portion of the course, 10-minute miles was not bad at all)
Second lap was worse. The course started with a 1.5 mile out-and back lollipop, which took me 15 minutes the first lap and 25 the second. It was dreadful, and I was trying to ration the liquid I took in because my stomach usually cramps up when I drink too much while running. After the aid station, I decided that that method wasn’t working, so I set little miniature goals every couple hundred yards and let myself drink sips of ice water upon achieving each one. Unfortunately, about 1.5 miles into the 3 miles between aid stations, my water supply was quite low and also quite hot again. I felt the shivers coming on, and a throat closing with despair at how far I had already come and how impossibly far the remaining 3.5 miles sounded. So I walked for a minute, then stumbled along some more.
.5 miles from the finish, my calf gave a couple of spasms, and it felt like the bottom of my foot was going to seize up – electrolyte depletion or something? I was glad to almost be done, before my body freaked out any more. Crossed the finish line in 6:47, in 7th place out of the 12 women finishers (several dropped out during the run)
My overall goal had been sub-6, readjusted to sub-6:30 once the course was changed…Not good, but considering I almost never run in temperatures above even 70 degrees (since I run in the mornings when I wake up, when it’s usually around 40-50), surviving a run in the heat was an accomplishment.
Lessons learned:
1) Buy a sleeveless wetsuit someday
2) Get some HEED watermelon
3) Always have a depleted water bottle so there is an excuse to take a new free one at an aid station
4) Doesn’t matter how much I push on the bike, I’ll always feel like crap on the run anyway so may as well go all out (as long as I’ve done enough brick workouts beforehand)
5) Bring along a race crew or someone who is willing to drive around and dump ice or ice water all over me when I vainly attempt to run in the heat (or, alternatively, perhaps I should do my longer races in the spring, fall, or winter, when it’s cold)
-Shaena
Friday, July 16, 2010
Patriot Half Ironman, East Freetown, MA
Patriot Half Ironman Race Report
Saturday, June 19, 2010
East Freetown, MA
Matthieu Talpe
Pre-Race:
The pre-race officially started Saturday, May 22nd after a week of finals. Having the Patriot Half Iron on my calendar gave me an excuse to resume a structured training regimen, so with four weeks left before the race, I scrambled together three solid training weeks + one week of taper--during which I eliminated my daily coffee and piece of cake at noon, what a shame because I didn't even have time to enjoy my rejuvenated caffeine tolerance during race morning.
At 3:50 AM on Saturday morning, I woke up, and after the usual "why the f am I doing this to myself", crawled out of bed and 90 minutes later, found myself registering at the race area in East Freetown, MA. I absolutely love pre-races. It was early in the morning, the sun was rising on what was going to be a cloud-free day, the dew was still on the grass, the music was perfect, and as usual, everyone was subtly eyeing each other in the transition area. Man, what a great time. Did I mention that I love pre-races?
Swim (1.2 miles ?)
Wow, 1.2 miles drawn out by buoys on the water seems disproportionately long. The conditions were nearly ideal: water temperature in the mid to low 70s, small waves of competitors, calm waters, and only two turns.
I'll spare you the details of the swim--long story short: I never got to latch on to a reliable set of feet to draft off of, but found a good rhythm pretty quickly and never felt the triceps burn I typically feel after awhile. Thank you Mrs Taper.
Bike (58 miles)
The course was fast. Again, nothing extraordinary to report and I don't want to bore you with uninteresting anecdotes. I held nearly constant pace throughout the two relatively flat 29 mile laps, passing perhaps 50 people while getting passed by 4 tree-trunked-legged men. I'll reetirate what I wrote in my Collegiate Nationals report: a strong bike is crucial to a good overall time and I'm very grateful that I spent hours and hours on the bike--it pays off! As they say, "cycling is a blue-collar sport; you gotta crank out the miles." Notable criticism of other athletes' strategy: unless you feel particularly uncomfortable grabbing bottles at the two aid stations (they offered Heed and water), you shouldn't need to carry more than two bottles--that's a lot of extra weight! Food-wise, while I usually don't eat much during training rides, I forced myself to 2 gels and 1 powerbar. Other notable comments: plain vanilla powerbar >> tropical fruit powerbar AND next time I need to remember to open the powerbar beforehand instead of fiddling with the plastic and going over a pothole that nearly swallowed my bike FOREVER.
Run (13.1 miles)
Again, I am very fortunate: everything went smoothly. It was a very hot run with long stretches of road in the sun, but overall, my pace remained consistent--while on the flats. Running around the Charles has not gotten me used to hills so I slowed down way too much on the course's several rollers.
I have to admit that I distinctly remember hitting the mile 3 marker and thinking that I was really looking forward to this run being done. Not the greatest positive attitude, I know. As cliché as it sounds, I just took the run mile by mile and tagged on to people as long as I could--although most of the run no one was within 100 yards of me. Other cliché thought: in the moments I just wanted to stop and walk, I thought back to other long training runs during which I had felt much worse but didn't stop, and knew that I was physically able to continue running--I had no excuse to stop.
Overall
The numbers are one thing, sensations are another. Overall I felt very happy with the race, and especially, as I've mentioned [too] many times, very lucky. So much can happen in a 4, 5, 6 hour race, so many things that are completely out of your control, unaffected by your preparation, and luckily, I experienced none of those--everything went according to the plan. I was never exceedingly sore, thirsty, or hungry and finished the race with a solid quarter mile 'sprint.'
I am happy to have chosen the Patriot for my first HIM as it was low-key (no major pro contingent), cheaper ($180 instead of $225 or $250 for other 70.3 HIM), extremely well-organized (numerous volunteers, I never had to stop at the many intersections, good food, etc), well located (60 min south of Boston), and a pleasant event. Furthermore, the bike leg being flat allowed for fast times and therefore, a nice confidence boost for future long course triathlon training. I would strongly recommend it for any first timers. And, admittedly, I had a great time with Kristin and all the other triathlon peeps.
-matthieu
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Escape the Cape Triathlon, Onset MA
Liz Santorella
Escape the Cape was technically my first triathlon, since the swim had been cut for my wave during the New England Season Opener. I felt that I had a satisfactory grasp of where I had to go and what I should be wearing, and I entered this race with a lot more confidence.
The swim, I had been assured, was almost nothing. This was sort of like the time in third grade when a hair dresser accidentally gave me a floppy afro and everyone said it looked fine. Apprehension led me to swim extremely conservatively, but this likely backfired, as breathing every two strokes caused me to continuously veer to the right. I don't feel too bad about my slow time; I used my first swim segment to familiarize myself withf it, much as I had raced the Season Opener carefully to learn what I was doing, and I'm ready to swim hard next time.
T1: I've doing a good deal of cycling and knew I wouldn't do well on the swim, so I was looking forward to the moment when I would dash out of the water and gleefully hop onto my bike. I was, however, rather surprised to find that my whole body had decomposed into jello. I stumbled to the transition area, snapped on my bike shoes, and left in a reasonable amount of time. As I was about to mount my bike, I came to the unpleasant realization that I had left plastic cleat protectors on the bottoms of my shoes. I pulled to the side of the course to pull them off. I didn't lose much time, but I felt a lot dumber.
Bike: I expected this to be my best segment, but I was, frustratingly, unable to average a pace much higher than I would on a long training ride. I was trapped behind slow cars at least four times, but all in all, the bike was... okay.
Run: By this point, I'm used to the odd dead feeling in my legs concomitant with running after biking. Running in a triathlon seems nothing like a straight-up 5k; for me, at least, it seems to involve just moving my legs at whatever pace I can. When I heard race volunteers announce that there were only 400 meters left, however, the cross-country girl in me woke up and decided to kick. This did not work and resulted only in my making weird faces.
The thirteen minutes of swimming felt like at least an hour, and the run also felt protracted; I left the race convinced that my times on each segment may have been nearly equal. When I later compared my times to those who had finished in a similar overall time, I was surprised to find that my bike time had been average, my swim had been a bit slow, and the run was relatively fast. I had thought I was better at cycling than running, but since I'm a new and quickly-improving cyclist, I confused ability with its first derivative.
All in all, it was pretty fun and I'm looking forward to the next race.
Christy Bonstelle
Pre-Race: The morning was a series of firsts – my first body-marking, my first transition set up, etc. Basically, I just followed Christina around and did what she did until it was time for the pre-race instructions. I’m sure that wasn’t annoying at all. Down on the beach, I herded myself with the rest of the pink-capped Newbies. In a state of pre-race Newbie shock and disbelief at what we were about to do, we waddled wide-eyed and seal-like in our wetsuits to the start. It was warm enough that we could get in the water pre-race without worrying about getting chilled. The first wave went off, and the Newbies cheered. Two minutes later, we collectively paled – one of the first wave athletes (the Elites) was getting pulled in by a jet ski before reaching the first buoy. It was The Great Newbie Fear: Trouble with the Swim. Then someone told a joke, and collectively the Newbies relaxed and walked to the starting coral.
The Swim: Wonderfully event free, with a few minor collisions and a slight “biff” from a woman doing the backstroke perpendicular to the course (I guess it’s hard to sight). And I passed people, which never happens at the Z-center except with aqua-joggers.
The Bike: T-1 went better than I expected (finding my bike laying on my transition gear notwithstanding). I had a very rocky mount, and then went off, passing people on the left consistently until the “no passing zone.” I then immediately got caught behind a woman cycling 12-14 mph (grrrr). I told myself to consider it a recovery period, since there really wasn’t another option. Out of the “no-passing zone,” I began the “passing-fest” again, until I got behind a truck that was unable to pass a cyclist at 12-14 mph (grrrr). The truck moved left then right, trying to figure out what to do, while a stream of cyclists piled up behind me. I noticed that the passenger window was open, so when the truck moved left again I yelled “Car, we’re passing on the right” and I lead my stream of cyclists pass the car. Several of them passed me, and then we leap-frogged around each other for the last few miles.
The Run: T-2 was fine, although I somehow managed to switch my legs with anvils when changing shoes. I waddled out of the transition period with a goofy smile on my face – the scary legs were over, but the tough leg was about to begin. I went through the first mile mark in 7 min, and was motivated to push harder. I then when by the second mile mark @ 5:55, and I realized the mile markers were only loosely correlated with the actual mile marks. By then, some of the molten lead in my legs was replaced by oxygen carrying blood cells. I ran to the finish. My first tri. I practically yanked the finisher’s meddle out of the volunteer’s hand.
Escape the Cape was technically my first triathlon, since the swim had been cut for my wave during the New England Season Opener. I felt that I had a satisfactory grasp of where I had to go and what I should be wearing, and I entered this race with a lot more confidence.
The swim, I had been assured, was almost nothing. This was sort of like the time in third grade when a hair dresser accidentally gave me a floppy afro and everyone said it looked fine. Apprehension led me to swim extremely conservatively, but this likely backfired, as breathing every two strokes caused me to continuously veer to the right. I don't feel too bad about my slow time; I used my first swim segment to familiarize myself withf it, much as I had raced the Season Opener carefully to learn what I was doing, and I'm ready to swim hard next time.
T1: I've doing a good deal of cycling and knew I wouldn't do well on the swim, so I was looking forward to the moment when I would dash out of the water and gleefully hop onto my bike. I was, however, rather surprised to find that my whole body had decomposed into jello. I stumbled to the transition area, snapped on my bike shoes, and left in a reasonable amount of time. As I was about to mount my bike, I came to the unpleasant realization that I had left plastic cleat protectors on the bottoms of my shoes. I pulled to the side of the course to pull them off. I didn't lose much time, but I felt a lot dumber.
Bike: I expected this to be my best segment, but I was, frustratingly, unable to average a pace much higher than I would on a long training ride. I was trapped behind slow cars at least four times, but all in all, the bike was... okay.
Run: By this point, I'm used to the odd dead feeling in my legs concomitant with running after biking. Running in a triathlon seems nothing like a straight-up 5k; for me, at least, it seems to involve just moving my legs at whatever pace I can. When I heard race volunteers announce that there were only 400 meters left, however, the cross-country girl in me woke up and decided to kick. This did not work and resulted only in my making weird faces.
The thirteen minutes of swimming felt like at least an hour, and the run also felt protracted; I left the race convinced that my times on each segment may have been nearly equal. When I later compared my times to those who had finished in a similar overall time, I was surprised to find that my bike time had been average, my swim had been a bit slow, and the run was relatively fast. I had thought I was better at cycling than running, but since I'm a new and quickly-improving cyclist, I confused ability with its first derivative.
All in all, it was pretty fun and I'm looking forward to the next race.
Christy Bonstelle
Pre-Race: The morning was a series of firsts – my first body-marking, my first transition set up, etc. Basically, I just followed Christina around and did what she did until it was time for the pre-race instructions. I’m sure that wasn’t annoying at all. Down on the beach, I herded myself with the rest of the pink-capped Newbies. In a state of pre-race Newbie shock and disbelief at what we were about to do, we waddled wide-eyed and seal-like in our wetsuits to the start. It was warm enough that we could get in the water pre-race without worrying about getting chilled. The first wave went off, and the Newbies cheered. Two minutes later, we collectively paled – one of the first wave athletes (the Elites) was getting pulled in by a jet ski before reaching the first buoy. It was The Great Newbie Fear: Trouble with the Swim. Then someone told a joke, and collectively the Newbies relaxed and walked to the starting coral.
The Swim: Wonderfully event free, with a few minor collisions and a slight “biff” from a woman doing the backstroke perpendicular to the course (I guess it’s hard to sight). And I passed people, which never happens at the Z-center except with aqua-joggers.
The Bike: T-1 went better than I expected (finding my bike laying on my transition gear notwithstanding). I had a very rocky mount, and then went off, passing people on the left consistently until the “no passing zone.” I then immediately got caught behind a woman cycling 12-14 mph (grrrr). I told myself to consider it a recovery period, since there really wasn’t another option. Out of the “no-passing zone,” I began the “passing-fest” again, until I got behind a truck that was unable to pass a cyclist at 12-14 mph (grrrr). The truck moved left then right, trying to figure out what to do, while a stream of cyclists piled up behind me. I noticed that the passenger window was open, so when the truck moved left again I yelled “Car, we’re passing on the right” and I lead my stream of cyclists pass the car. Several of them passed me, and then we leap-frogged around each other for the last few miles.
The Run: T-2 was fine, although I somehow managed to switch my legs with anvils when changing shoes. I waddled out of the transition period with a goofy smile on my face – the scary legs were over, but the tough leg was about to begin. I went through the first mile mark in 7 min, and was motivated to push harder. I then when by the second mile mark @ 5:55, and I realized the mile markers were only loosely correlated with the actual mile marks. By then, some of the molten lead in my legs was replaced by oxygen carrying blood cells. I ran to the finish. My first tri. I practically yanked the finisher’s meddle out of the volunteer’s hand.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Mooseman Half Ironman, Bristol NH
GERALD R.
As you might have noticed it was pretty rainy. NH was not exception. It rained
from start to finish.
The swim was fun, the water was comfortably warm even for me - somewhere in the
mid 60s. My swim time was not great, but given that I did not really swim for
the past two or even three months it was not too bad.
The bike course was hilly with steep uphills and steep, fast and scary since wet
downhills. I am glad I made it through it without crashing. As soon as it went
slightly downhill the triathlon bikes with disk wheel were zooming past me. I
caught them again on the next uphill. I guess aerodynamics make a difference.
;-)
I finished with 33km/h average speed - could have been faster, but since I was
scared of the run, I did not want to push it too much.
The run was a disaster. End of Feb I ran a good half marathon in 1:32. That was
also when my running training stopped. Let me say that much. This triathlon
half marathon was nowhere close. ;-) I did my first mile in 8min. From then on
my mileage pace went downhill and the pain level went uphill (exponentially). I
finished the last 2miles with a 64 year old lady as pacemaker. She was awesome.
Unfortunately she had to do another lab of 10k. I hope (am sure) she made it.
After the race my knee started to hurt again, but it isn't too bad (yet). I hope
that it will be better by tomorrow.
On a good note I recovered pretty fast since it was mostly my running muscles
that limited my pace.
and the main reason I even finished the run was that Stacy kept pushing
me while
accompanying me on the bike.
I was ready to bail after 10k. ;-)
A big thanks to Stacy, for helping at the price of getting soaked.
As you might have noticed it was pretty rainy. NH was not exception. It rained
from start to finish.
The swim was fun, the water was comfortably warm even for me - somewhere in the
mid 60s. My swim time was not great, but given that I did not really swim for
the past two or even three months it was not too bad.
The bike course was hilly with steep uphills and steep, fast and scary since wet
downhills. I am glad I made it through it without crashing. As soon as it went
slightly downhill the triathlon bikes with disk wheel were zooming past me. I
caught them again on the next uphill. I guess aerodynamics make a difference.
;-)
I finished with 33km/h average speed - could have been faster, but since I was
scared of the run, I did not want to push it too much.
The run was a disaster. End of Feb I ran a good half marathon in 1:32. That was
also when my running training stopped. Let me say that much. This triathlon
half marathon was nowhere close. ;-) I did my first mile in 8min. From then on
my mileage pace went downhill and the pain level went uphill (exponentially). I
finished the last 2miles with a 64 year old lady as pacemaker. She was awesome.
Unfortunately she had to do another lab of 10k. I hope (am sure) she made it.
After the race my knee started to hurt again, but it isn't too bad (yet). I hope
that it will be better by tomorrow.
On a good note I recovered pretty fast since it was mostly my running muscles
that limited my pace.
and the main reason I even finished the run was that Stacy kept pushing
me while
accompanying me on the bike.
I was ready to bail after 10k. ;-)
A big thanks to Stacy, for helping at the price of getting soaked.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
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