Wildflower 2012 Race Recap

I’m kinda over this race, so I’m not going to totally belabor it. I probably should, for no other reason than to save future unknowing fools who sign up for the Long Course thinking it “won’t be that bad” or that “everyone exaggerates how hard it is” or that it will be “good training.”

This race is hard. It is technically a Half Ironman distance (1.2 swim + 56 bike + 13.1 run), but the notoriety of its difficulty has kicked it up a notch in triathlon circles to “3/4 Ironman” status. I really hope that’s true, because I think I can do 1/4 more work than I did at Wildflower. Doing twice as much will be a real test of everything I am.

The bottom line is that I executed all of my race goals. I guess I can’t ask for more than that, right?

PRE-RACE
It’s a camping event, so no one really plans to be all that well-rested the night before. We had the luxury of sleeping in the van, so that helped tremendously. Greg’s pre-race plan is to make a smoothie the night before and set an alarm to wake him so he can drink it at 4 AM. It was really awesome that his alarm woke up me, the dog, and everyone else in our surrounding area… It took me awhile to go back to sleep, so I laid there and actually visualized my race. In detail. It sounds a little hokey, but I think it was extremely helpful. I would have forgotten two things for my transitions had I not done this! It also helped calm me to visualize myself crossing the finish line.

We got up with the sun around 6 AM and did all the pre-race things. Eating, drinking, bathrooming, making jokes, and finally collecting our things to head to the transition area.

I had my toes done to match my race kit.

Greg and Kidder’s wave started 25 minutes before mine, so I saw them off and  got myself mentally prepared to do this thing. I started 1:20 after the first wave of the day at 9:20 AM. While it’s nice being able to have a somewhat leisurely morning, the down side is being out on the run course in the heat of the day.

SWIM
There were only 75 women in my wave, so this “mass start” wasn’t that brutal. I’m a pretty good swimmer, as it turns out, and I’ve learned that it’s better to be right in the front of the pack going into the water. We’re allowed to swim around for a couple of minutes before our wave starts (after the previous wave) and I’ll tell ya, the water right there is pretty warm with all the athletes peeing one last time before the race starts. My biggest concern was getting my goggles in a spot where they weren’t going to leak or fog over.

The horn went off and we all ran into the water. It’s chaotic, but I’m not a panicky swimmer in this environment so it’s “fine.” My biggest problem was that my goggles were leaking and fogging over. I could not sight the first buoy at all and following the crowd is not always a good thing. I felt like I was way too far to the left, but got my goggles figured out and recovered from that. As is usually the case, it’s hard to get into a rhythm until that first buoy. Things tend to spread out from there and get easier, and that was the case this time.

I knew the lake had been choppy and full of debris (seaweed and sticks) at last year’s Long Course, but that was not the case this year. The water was really quite smooth and clear. Well, not “clear.” This is what you saw when you put your face in the water:

It was a good swim for me. I wasn’t killing myself out there, planning for a 35-40 minute swim. I got out of the pack of women in my age group and was passing people from three waves ahead of me, so I knew I wasn’t faltering too much. My Garmin was in my swim cap, so I didn’t have a way of knowing my time/pace. That was fine – I was going by feel anyway. A couple of times throughout, I thought to myself, “This is going to be the easiest part of your day, so enjoy it.” That helped to keep things in perspective and live in the moment. Not to mention fulfilling my goal of having fun!

I got out of the water and got my Garmin out of my cap as I stepped on the timing mat. 33:02. WOO HOO!

T1
I was not pushing myself during my transitions. During an Olympic distance race, fast transitions can make or break your race. This wasn’t an A race, it’s a huge transition area, and I know I’m not going to be Speedy Gonzalez in transition at Ironman. I made putting on sunscreen a priority, and I’m glad I did!! T1 time = 4:44

BIKE
My goal for the bike was to drink enough water and eat at the appropriate times to finish the race without GI issues, and to leave enough in my legs to have a decent run. I had gotten a professional bike fit the week prior and had done a long and hilly ride to test out the adjustments. I felt very comfortable going into the ride and had a solid plan worked out.

Everyone talks about the long hill that starts around Mile 40 of the ride — Nasty Grade. What no one talks about is the hill that happens around Mile 2. It may be even more difficult than Lynch Hill (that the Olympic distance athletes have to climb). I couldn’t believe how many people I saw walking it!

I had to pee starting around Mile 26. I have never even needed to pee on the bike, so this was a good thing. I knew I was drinking enough to stay hydrated! I tried to pee for over 20 miles and could not relax enough to do it. I can’t let my sphincter release while pedaling, obviously. I was close a couple of times, but no go. So disappointing! I even picked up an extra water bottle at the aid station for “clean-up.”

I had a good bike ride. I executed my hydration and nutrition plan, I paced myself and didn’t give in to hammering unnecessarily. I drank 20 ounces of water every hour and ate an almond butter-filled date every hour.

I was passing people in Greg’s age group — they started 25 minutes ahead of me (and they’re men)!! Nasty Grade wasn’t as bad as everyone made it out to be, but I will admit that the last 10 miles of the ride are the hardest. As I was descending Nasty Grade, I saw the medical helicopter landing just up ahead. Someone else was not having a good race… Greg said that he saw the athlete still laying on the ground when he passed by. I don’t know what happened or what became that guy.

I finished the bike in 3:14. Again, this exceeded my time expectations. I didn’t feel totally spent, I knew I wasn’t dehydrated (as is usually the case), and thought I was in pretty good shape to tackle the run.

T2
My 4:32 time in transition is extremely slow. I’m not sure why. I don’t really care.

RUN
So this is obviously where things fall apart, right? Good swim. Good bike. And for the first few miles, things were working out according to plan on the run.

Mile 2 - Still Having Fun

I had to stop to pee right out of the transition area, but that was expected. The potty stop took 56 seconds. I adopted a Run 3 Minutes/Walk 30 Seconds plan starting around Mile 2.5 — which is right about when the hills started to become a problem. This was a good solution and was working well. When I was running, I was running reasonably fast. The walk breaks brought my heart rate down and gave my legs a break.

And then somewhere around Mile 4, this happens:

That hill is no joke. Add in that it’s 2 PM on an 81-degree day and it’s like living in Hell. I don’t think there was a single person running that hill while I was on it. I’m actually not sure which is more demoralizing: that EVERYONE is walking it, or if you see some crazy-ass superstar running it (especially if she’s in your age group). There was chatting amongst us, mostly commiseration. It helped pass the time. And then, when you get to the top and start running again, you think that everything is going to be okay — until you have to climb the next super steep, albeit short, hill.

The whole thing fell apart for me right there. FIVE MILES IN. It’s hard to even want to start running again on the relatively flat parts. I looked at my splits and knew I could finish within my goal time of 6:30 even if I walked most of it. But I didn’t want to be out there that long; I wanted to finish as fast as possible. I started running again and found a couple of people who were going at a pace I could handle. My biggest problem on the run is not being able to pace myself. When I’m running, I’m running fast. Too fast. So I stayed with them awhile, but let them drop me as I walked through an aid station and stretched my right glute.

From then on, my MO was basically to walk all hills and run the downhills and flats. There was a lot of self-talk, and most of it was reasonably positive. I have never been more certain about finishing Ironman than I was on that race course. I was in a similar situation to where I had been in past races (dying on the run), but in this case it wasn’t because I had hammered too hard on the bike or because I was dehydrated.

It’s because this run is a Bitch. With a capital-fucking-B.

I vowed to remember how miserable this 2 hours of my life was and to NEVER EVER sign up for it again (unless in a relay). I thought of Greg and Mike and wondered if they had suffered as much as I was suffering now. I remembered Greg saying last year that he would NEVER EVER do this race again, and how he had to eat those words and do it as a “training race” for Ironman.

There was a male college student around Mile 9 wearing nothing but a sombrero (the race was on Cinco de Mayo). He wanted to high-five me after slathering sunscreen all over his naked body. No thanks.

The later water stations offer Coke and it’s an effective tool for several reasons (fizziness, caffeine and sugar). I declined this time. Some nice college kids were offering beer. I thought about it, but declined. I WAS EXECUTING A RACE PLAN, DAMMIT!

And then, Mile 12. The top of the last hill, and where I knew I’d see my friends. I came trudging up that hill and threw them my water bottle mentioning briefly, “I want to die” as I passed them and started to run. From there, it’s 1 mile down a steep hill into the finisher’s chute. I have never been more thankful for gravity in all of my life.

I finished in 6:15:20. A full 15 minutes over where I thought I’d end up at “somewhere around 6.5 hours.” It wasn’t a fast run. It wasn’t a fun run. It has left a bad taste in my mouth for over 10 days now. But I also didn’t have any stomach issues during the run or after finishing. I didn’t have any chafing. AND I FINISHED.

I made it out of the post-race food fest after eating more than I’ve ever been able to stomach and hobbled down the stairs to the transition area to pack up.

I couldn’t get in touch with Greg (coverage is spotty at best in this remote area), but had planned ahead and brought my bathing suit to take a cold swim in the lake. That helped a little and then I entered the famed “4th Event” at Wildflower — trekking back up the hill to our campsite.

There, I enjoyed refreshing post-race beverages with my friends. It is always so fun to exchange stories with the other folks competing. Greg and Kidder did the Long Course. Martz and Joe did the Sprint Distance (<– they’re smart). The van provided the perfect lounge setting.

I took a week off to recover. I was asleep by 9 PM every night and slept in until at least 7 every morning — no 5:37 AM wake-up calls for early swims. I did do recovery runs on Monday and Thursday and a quick ride on Wednesday, just to keep things moving.

Now, we’re on to the Real Deal. I’m 3 days into Official Ironman Training and had to laugh when I looked ahead to this weekend’s training: Saturday – run 16-18 miles on rolling terrain + Sunday – ride 80-100 miles. Wheeeeeeee!

Wildflower Long Course: Never Again

I survived!

I guess I did more than that, depending on what standards you’re looking at. But that run has certainly left a very bad taste in my mouth. And I think I’ve been sleepwalking through this entire week…

To answer your question — no, I wasn’t about to poop my pants…but it sure looks like it from my gait.

Swim: 33:02
T1: 4:44
Bike: 3:14:56
T2: 4:32
Run: 2:18:06

TOTAL: 6:15:20 (14/75 among W35-39)

What I mostly can’t believe is that the training has, in essence, just begun. We have 15 weeks until Ironman Canada. This was a much-needed recovery week and I finally feel rested enough to not vomit when I think about running. I actually had a really good ride yesterday (that wasn’t flat) and a relatively fast 5.3 mile run today. RUNNING WITHOUT HILLS MAKES ALL THE DIFFERENCE.

I’ll have more photos and such this week. Thanks for all the well-wishes!

Daily sMiles

Our buddy Pete took Miles to Fort Funston while we were off celebrating Sarah‘s wedding.

He seems pensive.

And more obedient than a puppy should be.

There is a race report coming. I’m still trying to figure out if it went well or not…

Wildflower 2012 Race Goals

We’re on the highway heading south to Lake San Antonio. It’s Wildflower weekend! I can’t believe how many cars and vans we’ve seen that are loaded with bikes and camping gear. None, of course, are as awesome as the setup we have.

I’m surprisingly not nervous about tomorrow’s race. I think there still some denial that it’s actually tomorrow, but the real reason is that this is not my A race. So it’s a lot like a very expensive training day with friends. That said, it would be totally unMolly-like to not set some race goals.

1. Execute my Ironman nutrition and hydration plan.
This goal is actually two-fold. If I can get my food and water dialed in, I won’t have a stomachache during the run and for a few hours after finishing. This has plagued me at every race and I really want to do better this time.

I have trained my body to work pretty efficiently while working, so I don’t need much food. But hydration is another story. By the time I feel dehydrated, it’s too late. I anticipate the bike will take over 3 hours and I need to drink one bottle per hour. I’m going to be drinking water and Nuun, taking in my calories from food. I had Greg install a water bottle between my aero bars that has a straw so I won’t have the hassle of coming out of the bars to grab a bottle. It has an easy-fill opening and I’m planning to pour new water in at the aid stations. I’ll carry an extra bottle as backup in case I miss an aid station.

As for food, I don’t do that well with the gels and manufactured food. I’m going with my stand-by from Barb’s Race and having almond butter-filled dates. I am going to aim for about 200 calories/hour and keep my belly full of water so that everything is moving into my small intestine quickly and not sitting in my gut sloshing around.

2. Pace myself.
This race is a training race, meant to test strategies for the full Ironman in August. I am going out with the understanding that I need to be able to go twice the distance at X pace. I am competitive and it’s hard for me to not want to really hammer on the bike. I succumb to this pitfall every time I race and I die on the run. This is a notoriously difficult run to begin with and I need to pace myself to not be defeated when I’m out there in the heat of the day.

3. Have fun!
Because there isn’t a tremendous amount of pressure to hit a time goal, I need to remember to enjoy myself while I’m out there suffering. I’m already somewhat burned out on training, so I need to use this race to recharge my batteries a bit. I’m fortunate that I am able to do hard things like this, that my body accommodates everything I ask it to do. It’s a beautiful venue and a fun weekend spent with friends.

4. Realistic finish time. 
I honestly don’t have a defined time goal in my mind. I’ve kind of backed into it based on what I think I can do at Ironman Canada. I suppose I’ll finish this somewhere around 6.5 hours. My first 70.3 time from 2010 was 5:39. Last year’s time was 6:02. I expect to finish the swim somewhere around 35-40 minutes. Spend a couple of minutes in transition. I’m shooting for under 3.5 hours on the bike. Another minute or two in transition, and then hit the hot and hilly run course. It will take over 2 hours, but I don’t know how much over. I want to stay under a 10 minute-mile (which just sounds slow as I type it out), but I’m really trying to be realistic.

Thanks to all who have sent well-wishes! I’ll carry them with me on the race course!

Wine (charms) On Wednesday

My friend Tara and I drank some wine on Sunday afternoon. But wait! We were being productive at the same time — making wine charms. Sunday Funday = YES! I can’t take full credit, it was Tara’s idea. She wants to present each of the girls at her sister-in-law’s bachelorette party this coming weekend with her own wine charm.

She sent me a picture as inspiration and asked if we could make it happen. Yes. Yes, we can. I happen to work at a place that provides the tools to do this exact thing. Jewelry making materials aren’t just for jewelry making, you know. We bought what we needed and then went to work making them using the techniques we learned from the Stamping on Metal class at Beaducation.com.

I haven’t shown much proficiency in making actual jewelry, but these were fun and easy:

What do you think? Tara and I are looking at instituting “Craft Day” once a month just because it was so much fun. (And so that we’ll have something to show for our day drinking…)

8 Days and Counting

I am competing in a Half Ironman triathlon in 8 days and I haven’t made mention of it on this blog. At all.

Is that you, Denial? It’s me, Molly.

I actually think it was denial for a long time. It took until mid-March for me to realize that I am not, in fact, training for Ironman Canada — a race that takes place on August 26. I am training for the Wildflower Long Course. IT TAKES PLACE ON MAY 5. I also can’t believe the mental block. I love Wildflower!

Wildflower 2010

A huge mental shift had to happen in my head for Wildflower to come into focus. For the last two years, the 70.3 triathlon distance was my “A race.” It was the hardest thing I had ever done and everything I had ever trained for wrapped up into one 6-hour day (give or take 23 minutes). The shift happened, and very little changed.

Here’s why: I’m not going balls-out for this race. My coach’s orders are to compete at my projected full-Ironman race pace. I can tell you that I will not be swimming 2.4 miles in 1:04. I will not be averaging 18.8 mph on my 112 bike ride. And I will not be running a sub-4-hour marathon.

My training these days is good. It’s consistent. I complete 99.5% of every workout prescribed, as I have for the last two years. I am just as tired and just as hungry as I have been in years-past. I know I’m fit, but I feel slow. In some cases, the data proves I’m slow(er). The difference this year is that I don’t care. I don’t have anxiety going into this race with aggressive goals and expectations for myself.

I gotta tell you, it’s freeing!

My #1 goal is to get through the race without feeling like shit. And let me tell you something else — I haven’t ever finished a race without feeling like shit, so that’s a pretty big feat. I’ve been focusing on my nutrition and hydration. I’ve been pacing myself, especially on hills (both Wildflower and IM Canada very hilly). I’ve been doing strength workouts that include plyometrics. I get the proper amount of sleep.

So this race is uncharted territory for me. That it’s not about going as fast as I possibly can NO MATTER WHAT. It’s about racing smart. It’s about enjoying the journey, and taking notes for the Big One.

Eight days until the gun goes off!

Running In Circles

“Okay team – we’re going to run to Casey’s and back as our warm-up today.”

These were the dreaded words from Coach Schneider on the first day of track season (and many other days following that one). The Casey’s General Store was 0.7 miles away from the high school, making it a 1.4 mile warm-up. For me, a sprinter, it was the worst part of the whole day.

Being dramatic for my HS track photo

The rest of the short distance runners’ workout was various combinations of sprinting for 100, 200, or 400 yards at a time. Maybe he’d throw an occasional 800 in there, just to make our legs really burn. Fine by me. The whole idea of “I can do anything for 2 minutes” was born in high school. What I could not do was imagine running anything over the 1.4 miles to/from Casey’s. The distance runners had to go all the way to the golf course and back. Oh, the horror!!

My, how things have changed.

After high school, I pretty much quit running unless I was being chased (which was seldom). I mean, no one goes on a 400 yard run and calls it a workout, right? I did other things to stay “active.” I played intramural volleyball for a season in college. My roommate and I would do exercises with hand weights in our dorm rooms watching Must See TV every Thursday night. I took ballroom dancing and water aerobics as my physical education electives. Not exactly an Ironman in training, eh?

Fast forward 10 years and 2000 miles. California! Greg is an avid runner and introduced me to things that helped me embrace it: trail running, looking at the San Francisco Bay or Pacific Ocean as scenery, and near-perfect weather all year long. Gradually, I built up my endurance (both mental and physical) for longer runs. These days, I won’t even go out for a run if it’s under 2 miles. And I almost never run with music.

Some things never change

Fast forward another 9 years (HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?!?) and what I dread now is a track workout. As part of my triathlon training, I have to do a speed workout on a local track once a week. This usually involves a half mile warm-up and then various combinations of sprinting 200, 400, or 800 yards. I despise this workout. I will run steadily for 10 miles if I have to.

Just don’t make me run in a circle as fast as I possibly can.

Actual track workout from 2 weeks ago

Escape From The Urban Grind

Remember how I went on and on about yoga and the awesome instructor I found? Yeah, well she’s hosting a retreat this summer — ESCAPE FROM THE URBAN GRIND. It’s in a really cool place in Sonoma County, and I’d totally go if I didn’t have a pesky Ironman on the calendar that weekend…

You should go! Tell her I sent you!

New Ride!

New stuff should be is fun! While un(der)employed, I basically went  2.5 years with minimal additions/upgrades to my triathlon gear (or my wardrobe. or my living space…). I’ve taken Greg’s cast-offs like gloves and foot warmers and have otherwise made-do with what I have. When I do shop, I tend to buy high quality stuff, and that has served me well.

My road bike doesn’t fit me that well, so it seems, and even a professional bike fit isn’t going to make riding 112 miles any more comfortable (or fast or ergonomically conducive to run a marathon afterward). Everyone talks about how much better they feel getting off a triathlon-specific bike. Greg has had a tri bike (also called a time trial or TT bike) for a few years now and swears by it for being faster and more comfortable.

So, I put myself in the market for a tri bike. I’ve got money to spend now, right? According to some documentation on Slowtwitch, the Cannondale Slice is a perfect fit for someone like me. And by “someone like me,” I don’t mean to compare myself to Chrissie Wellington. I mean someone with really long limbs and a really short torso.

Source

A local bike shop happened to have the 2011 Slice model available. IN MY SIZE and ON SALE. This must be the Universe, right? I took ‘er for a spin and decided to commit. I spent an hour getting fitted on the bike and then waited a week for it to stop raining so I could finally ride it.

Well, I went out that day with a few tools in my pockets to tweak things as needed and hoped for the best. The training calendar dictated a 45-mile ride  + 3 mile run. Greg was [supposedly] on stand-by with his phone to help me out in case something came up.

I got three blocks from home and realized the seat was too high. I got off to adjust it and found that it was down as far as it would go. The tech at the bike shop had cut a significant amount of the seat post off, based on how we had sized it in the shop on the trainer, but had given me no leeway to put it down farther. It would have to do (because I was too stubborn to ride 3 blocks back home and have Greg cut it down farther, obviously).

About 3 miles down the road, it was very clear that the seat was tilted up too high ifyouknowhatImean. The tools I had were not the right size to fit in the seat screws so I tried to call Greg, only he wasn’t answering. I left a text and voicemail, hoping he’d call me before leaving the house on his own ride. I made it two more miles and had to stop again, calling and calling and calling him again. No answer. More frustration.

I was about 12 miles from home at this point, and had already decided that 45 miles would be 30 miles and that was that. I was too uncomfortable to push it for the additional hour. Greg called back when I was nearly at my turnaround point, so I told him to not bother with it (we weren’t anywhere near each other) and I’d suffer through for the trip home. Bright side: this would be good mental training!

I made a turn and started to down-shift to accommodate a slight incline and my gears wouldn’t catch. They kept slipping as I pedaled and I finally had to clip out, as not to fall over from lack of momentum. I looked down and saw my chain nearly dragging on the ground. I thought I had just dropped the chain and I’d put it back on and keep going. I got to the shoulder and saw that something was amiss with the rear derailleur.

I called Greg. And called him. And called him. And called him. I CALLED 24 TIMES AND HE NEVER ANSWERED. Between buyer’s remorse and spousal unresponsiveness, I was over it. He finally called back… and had to turn around on his ride to go get the car and rescue me. He confirmed the rear derailleur was completely broken.

*sigh*

I drove the bike immediately to the bike shop for them to repair it. By this time, it was nearly 4 PM on St. Patrick’s Day and I still had to get back on my other ill-fitting bike and ride 20 miles +  run 3. It was cold, the wind was howling, and I was grouchy (<– understatement). Again, I chalked it up to good mental training and was proud of myself for not quitting.

It took me a week to pick the bike up. Then it rained for about a week after that, so it was awhile before I got back on my new ride. And believe me, I wasn’t that excited about it anyway. I had the guys cut more off the seat post, and I’ve had Greg cut off even more twice now. I also bought three new saddles to try out, and I think I’ve found one that works. Greg made a bunch of tweaks to the seat, seat tilt, and aero bar positions before my next long ride. He then followed me in the car with a bevy of tools and made many tweaks along the way for the first few miles. This was priceless — and much greater than an insignificant kindness!

I’ve gone for a few long rides now, and while I will admit that I don’t love my new ride just yet, it is getting better. Patience is what it takes, and that’s something I lack most of the time. Again, I’m chalking it up to good mental training…

Daily sMiles

Miles is a lucky pup who joins me at the office most days. He sits quietly outside the office, chewing on pine cones and watching the sales guys across the street as they peddle luxury cars.

But that mid-afternoon lull affects everyone. Not even a puppy is immune.

(thanks to my coworker Mindy for the awesome shot!)