Pre-race: I wasn't as ready as I wanted to be because of some tough spring weather and my travel schedule, but all in all I felt good going in. The trip to Sunriver was a nice as could be with a 2 1/2 year old and 3 month old in the car. The 564 mile trip took 11.5 hours, including stopping for thirty minutes every two hours so my wife could feed the baby....such is life(!). Driving across the desert is actually one of my favorite things to do, and I found that Burns, OR, is my kind of town. It was also very interesting to drive through sage brush for 10 hours and then come up over a rise and magically the sagebrush turns to tall trees; such is the joy of watching changes in ecosystems.
I managed to eat well and stay away from wine (except one small glass!) for the two days before my race. I drove up to Wikiup Reservoir and looked at the swim venue on Friday and got my no-kidding first open water swim in for the year, 500 yards as more of a wet-suit op-check than anything else (too much flooding in southeast Idaho this spring, so no OWS). Then drove most of the bike course except for one wrong turn because the signage was up for the long-course and I was very unfamiliar with the area (I've never been there before). Friday night, I biked the run course on my mountain bike with Paul in the cruiser, again I took a few wrong turns because the signage was up for the long-course event. Sunriver will definitely get you turned around when trying to navigate in the area!
Morning of the Race: I got up just fine. I grabbed my shoes and drove over to set-up T2, about a five minute drive from our house. At that point, I realized the buses to the lake twenty miles away were leaving from T2 area instead of the village area, so I had to make a quick change of plans from walking to the buses because the buses were now twice as far away. Luckily, I got home and father-in-law was awake and drove me to the buses. As I prepared to get out, he jokingly said "You got your bus pass?" Well, in fact, no I didn't have my bus pass, so back to the house....no sweat, still plenty of time. If that was the worst that was going to go wrong for the day, I was in pretty good shape.
Now on the bus and waiting to move, a girl in the seat in front of me says she wanted to go back to her car and get her other water bottle. At that point, I realized I didn't have a water bottle because it was sitting in the console of my vehicle that my father-in-law had just driven away in. I had no phone because I didn't want to risk losing it in a lost transition bag. At least I would be having 30 minutes to figure out how to get a bottle because the bus was leaving right then.
So, now I'm up to two things gone wrong already, and the bus hasn't moved. Bad things always happen in threes, right? And I always plan for the worst, right? "Do I even really have my bike up at the lake right now?" was the first question I had for myself. Anyway, a nice guy from Washington sitting next to me took my mind off things while we rode to the lake. My bike was indeed there, thankfully!
But there were a couple of announcements for bikes. Could you imagine busing your bike up there and then not easily finding it the next morning? I would be a STRESS NUKE if that happened to me. Usually , the bikes were found within five minutes of the announcement, but still.....
I arrived at the transition area at 7:45, right on my schedule. I waited a bit, and sure enough an empty gatorade bottle was found in the cups trash. That might sound gross, but it really wasn't a trash with all kinds of nasty crap. It was a box full of empty water cups. I realize I really shouldn't go grabbing empty water bottles out of the trash to use them on my ride, so I at least got a hand full of hand sanitizer from the porta-johns and wiped the mouth seal and then rinsed it really well. The bottle fit in my bike cage but not perfectly....good enough considering my moment's reality.
Now setting cruise control for race day, I put on my wetsuit and got in the water at about 8:15. Swam out 300 yards, and back 300 yards. Felt good. Water was warmer than all my other races. It was 60 degrees, which was colder than normal for this race but just right for me. This was my second open water swim! Done with warmup at 8:30, I now had 45 minutes until my wave started. I checked my transition area once more, then went and hung out on the boat ramp half way in the water. People were chatty and friendly. The sun was breaking over the mountains and trees. The water was nice, but not "crystal clear" like it says in the brochure (haha, I was thinking about no-kidding crystal clear like in the Sawtooths where you can see the bottom thirty feet down). This was the day I would find out if my nine months of workouts give me anything on race day. About 700 people lined up at 9:00am for the start.
Twenty elites started first. The announcer said something about elites being bib numbers 1-30 or so. What?!?! I was bib number 21, and I'm NOT elite. Did I sign up wrong? Uh-oh! I'm not ready to start in thirty seconds. Then they announced elites went to bib #20.
My wave went at 9:15. A smooth start with no feet or arms in my face, which is always nice. I wanted to start with a moderate effort and build. I hit the right pace from the start. I couldn't find anyone to draft off of, but there were about three hands on my feet, and I was right next to somebody for the first 300 yards who was breaking some choppy water for me. At the first buoy, right turn. Pick up the pace a bit. Now I'm running into the back of the pack from the wave before me but not much of a problem. Second buoy, now into the home stretch. I'm still feeling pretty good. Stretch those arms. Snap that hip. Life is good when my hands and feet aren't froze! I don't even have to site very often because I'm actually swimming in a straight line. Fourth and final bouy, time to really kick it. What's this? Where did all these people come from? The middle of the pack of the wave before me, and now I have to pick my way through all of them. This is getting hard. Eyes on the prize...that big white rectangle on shore.
Hit the boat ramp at 24:20. Now run to bike (47 seconds), zip suit at bike. Jam all my trash into bag. Last minute decisions: Socks? Yes! Extra top layer? No! Recheck that all my trash is in the bag. Off onto the bike after a quick sip of water. Total T2 about 3:10 on my watch.
The sun is already up above the trees for the bike, and there is no wind. Gonna be a nice day. I'm passing people?!?!? I must be going too hard, but I feel good so keep it up. Mmmmm, I'm stuck behind this huge camper...is this illegal drafting? If there is a legal drafting, is this a legal drafting. Well, the guy in my age group I saw up here a minute ago passed this camper on the right so I'm going to, too. Here goes....damn I hate trucks with campers when I'm on a bike.
First turn, now I'm onto the section that I missed when I drove the course. Dang, this is all uphill already? The road is all chip seal. I'm still passing people?!?! Only three people have passed me into mile 6? This is going really well. More uphill followed by rollers. I grab some water out of "my" gatorade bottle, then fumble it trying to put it back in the cage. Duh! Yes, I'm going back after it after I was luck y enough to get it...it's only about 30 seconds total lost time I figure. This course is really kind of fun, and I'm killing it with a heart rate of 164. I hope that doesn't kill my run. Normally, many people pass me on the bike, but that's not the case today for some reason.
After the rollers, we turn right on Route 40, and now the big sustained uphill climb begins. It's not as bad as I've envisioned for the past six months on the trainer! I'm still passing people. Six people have passed me, four of them in my age group, so there went those thoughts of placing in my age group! Still, this climb is going so much better than expected. A drink of water is especially refreshing simply because I have it. The guy next to me on the bus two hours earlier said there's a false summit on this climb, and I see people. Is this the top or the false summit. It's the false summit, but I'm glad that guy told me that so I could be mentally ready. A couple of minutes later, more people on the side of the road, and they say that this is the summit! Woohooo! All downhill from here!
And I kick it into top gear, literally. No wind. Nice temps when I was expecting to be chilled. Not too much congestion of bikers. Very few cars to look out for. Life is good. And I'm pushing 162 bpm on the heart rate monitor, making sure I meet my goal of continuing to push on the downhill. The areas of smooth asphalt are a delight to cruise on.
I hit the turn into the business center at T2, and we get directed the long way around. Dang, I wasn't expecting this. How long is this? The not-knowing kills me at the end of this long, hard ride. It wasn't too much longer, and I finally get to the dismount area. I don't like it when people line the chute from dismount to the bike racks....it feels like the gauntlet when you are already beaten down. But they mean well.
T2. In and out, just like the burger joint in SoCal. Feels good. Must.Turn.Legs. Must. Turn.Legs.
Starting the run, I don't know the first mile of the course. I'm in complete oxygen debt and couldn't follow a rope right now, anyway. But it's well marked, so I get my bearings back at the first mile marker, and dang if I didn't run a 7:03 for the first mile versus a 7:40 goal or something like that. This is going well, but I can tell I need to back off a bit. Mile two = 8:04 if I took a split at the right marker. Dang all these different mile markers. Am I 10k or Oly tri? In my oxygen debt, I don't know!! My splits got all messed up, so I don't know my mile splits after this.
I know that at the halfway point, I decided I was hurting really bad and this was going to end badly even if it was mostly downhill from here. Mile 4 = OUCH! Heat is getting to me, and it's barely 70 degrees. A little bit of walking should get me back into the seven-minute-mile game, right? Even in my stupor, I could read the big pink directional signs, unlike the guy who blew by me and then kept going instead of turning. Luckily he heard me yell "Runners turn left, dude!" But karma did not give me any energy for that.
Mile 5 = Still hurting, but I can feel myself really wanting to finish strong. Next to me a guy looks me straight in the eye and says "Finish Strong!" And I knew he was a 40-44 age group before looking because that's just how it was going.
About 300 yards from the finish, another gauntlet started. I don't like gauntlets. And why do these kids want a hand-slap from some old man who's about to fall over in blithering pain and cry like his 2 1/2 year kid?
Somewhere, I find the energy to push the last 300 yards and look good doing it. Never mind that I just had the worst run in a race ever (and I 'm forgetting how great the swim and bike went). I wanted to finish good.
I didn't finish strong, but I finished well. I guess if you walk enough during the race you should be able to finish "well," at a minimum. But I'm getting sarcastic now, considering I thought my run would be the highlight of the day after a difficult bike ride.
Sometimes the races go as planned. Sometimes they just go and surprise you. In the end, I was a minute off of where I thought I would finish, and my overall goal of top 10% was met, so I'm HAPPY WITH THAT!
Post-race, I had a lot of strawberry shortcake. I needed some time alone to sit and try not to cry from pain. This hurt like no other race. Normally, it's a pain that you can deal with without any drama. This was not the case today. I wanted to go hole-up for an hour or two, but that's hard to in crowded post-race area. The massage line was 30 minutes by the time I got there. I don't do lines, so that wasn't an option.
I ate some more strawberry shortcake. Got grouchy at in-laws because they had the baby next to the loud speakers. Then I laid in the sun for 30 minutes and talked to nobody. An hour after the finish, I was good to go. Truly amazing how that works!
No comments:
Post a Comment