This race caused a change of identity - for the last several months I've been "training to do my first triathlon". After I finished this race - I feel like it's okay to add a name to the list:
I've been a tennis player, a wrestler, a weight lifter, a runner, a cyclist, and a swimmer....Now I am a Triathlete.
It's kind of odd - I set my mind to the Ft. Benning Reverse Sprint for several months. It's what spurred my training, it's what I focused on, it was the reason that I did my daily rituals and tracked progress. I labored over the decision to do it or not ("are you insane?", etc) for weeks, but the decision to do the West Point Tri came within about a week. Pretty quick for a race that was twice as long on the bike, and the run and 3x as long on the swim (my weakest leg and biggest worry).
A week prior to the WP tri, I'd finished the Ft. Benning Reverse, and I'd tried to take it easy during the in-between week - - had to try to recover and not overdo it before the long race. I only swam once, ran once, and biked once (and a brief open water swim during my bike ride).
I was terrified that the water would still be pretty cold. All of my open water forays had been kind of frigid, but the short swim the week before alleviated that fear. The water at the dam was bath-tub warm.
Going into this race I didn't have the concern of goals and expectations. Since this was the first race of this distance, the only real goal was to finish (strongly). I didn't want to break on the course. Keep in mind that this is my home turf - it's the main reason I wanted to do this race and this distance (instead of the Sprint). I train here, the race is on my turf - I just couldn't let that opportunity pass my by. I couldn't stand the thought of a bunch of triathletes within a mile of my house, and me not being among them. And I wanted to finish on my home turf with confidence.
The morning of the race we drove to the race site, and WOW!!! It was PACKED!! - - keep in mind, I'm at this park nearly EVERY day, and have lived within cycling distance of 3 entrances for over 10 yrs and I have NEVER seen this many people packed into the park - much less people on bikes with determined looks on their faces. We parked the jeep and I took down the bike, and we made our way to transition. My support crew was smaller than the last race - just me and the wife. We were both taken by surprise by the crowd. I could see the worry in Steph's face that I may be off the map a little.
When we got to transition, the directors had lain the area out in a pretty streamlined fashion. I was looking for a registration table to pick up my chip and get some instruction for all of the race numbers I'd gotten in my race packet when I saw that you had to go through marking to get your chip, which was right beside the transition entrance. In one fell swoop, I was marked, chipped, and setting up my bike. The loudspeaker was a constant background warning people to get their bikes in the right place (2 minute penalty before the gun even goes off).
The transition area was very tight - we had 6 bikes to a section, and 4 would have been more agreeable. The Ft. Benning race had been about 100 racers... this event boasted over 500 - so it was tight. I had to modify my transition area a bit. I'm still learning how to to set up my transition area: what's needed, what's wanted, and what's just fluff. I'd planned on setting up a place towel (kind of trying to 'define' my space), and a small towel to dry my feet, and a my goggle/helmet area, water bottle, gatorade bottle and a small bag for food/GPS. We were so packed in the rack, I reduced it down to 2 towels, helmet, 2 Gu packs and a bottle and shoes. Which means I forgot my GPS.
I went back several times to check on my bike and 'private' space. I saw a few too many people moving other people's bikes/gear - even I know that's taboo.
Start the RACE!!
We made our way to the water about 7:20 - gun goes bang! @ 7:30!! We got final instructions on drafting and course setup and we all lined up (roughly) with our numbers. This was THE big variable for me. When I registered for the race, I had to declare how long I would take on the swim - I didn't have any real measure for this. All my distance swims had been in the pool (flip turns), and OWS is still new to me (and TERRIFYING). I speculated it would take me about 45 minutes to swim the mile (keep in mind that at 60 minutes that the race volunteers would 'assist me' from the water - per the race rules). Since I told them 45 minutes, I got a pretty high race number to seed me towards the back of the pack. There were about 350 people registered for the Olympic distance start - here's me at the start.
I count fewer than 20 people behind me at the start, which means there are already 330 people in the water....Almost at the very end of the line.
Starting this far back put me alone for a lot of the race...good/bad/indifferent - I don't know yet.
Luckily, when I hit the water all my apprehensions went away and all that was in my head was the swim. My concerns mostly all vanished..just keep stroking: stroke stroke stroke stroke. My goggles fogged up almost instantaneously (typical), so I swam near blind. I wasn't that big of a deal - what's the difference between looking down into brown water, or looking down into foggy brown water? Not much. The fogging did cause some concern when I was trying to sight buoys - I REALLY didn't want to go off course and make the swim any longer.
I learned that if your not getting kicked, or kicking someone that you may be off course. Since I couldn't see out of my goggles except for a small unfogged corner, I had to stop and tread water for a moment whenever I wanted to sight my place in the water. I actually had to keep telling myself too slow down and try to not use my legs so much - race mentality and instinct kept trying to take over. I wanted to still have plenty left for the rest of the race. I read an article online that made a good point - unless your shooting for a podium finish, your not going to break any real barriers by killing yourself in the water. I tried to relax the swim and conserve energy for the rest of the race. Strictly looking at the numbers: The race is 32 miles long - total...the swim is only 1 mile of that, so I still had a LOT of distance to cover after the swim, so CONSERVE. It worked - I actually came out of the water grinning (mostly happy to not be the last out of the water, and not having to be rescued). Swim time: 35:17
See. Grins.
When I cam into the bike corral, it looked like a ghost town. Remember how far back I started? ALL those people were already on the road. The space was good, but to see that everyone had already left was slightly dis-heartening. I really had to fight some internal battles and remind myself throughout the race that I was on the clock, not just on the road. Even though I wasn't up in the pack, I wasn't as far back as it appeared (this was borne out by the race results, too). But it still messed with my head a little. There were less than 10 bikes in the corral when I arrived. It seemed like T1 went pretty quickly, but it still took me over 2 minutes. I exited T1 while watching (and grinning inside) the guy in the rack next to me get shouted down for mounting his bike in the transition area - big No-No.
Let's go pedal!
The bike portion was LOOOONNNNGGGG, especially with no music and no one around me. I think I only saw about 20 people over the course of 25 miles - and most of those were passing me - LOL. I started taking Gu and gatorade as soon as I got on the bike and Gu'd every 30 minutes and drank every time I thought about it. Luckily it wasn't too hot, so I wasn't drying out too badly. I did not, however, drink enough the day before (hindsight).
The course was a hilly meatgrinder. I knew some of the roads I was on, but some of them were new, and all the new ones went up up up up up. I really wished my bike had a gear lower than 1. I spent a lot more time on the little ring than I expected to, but I had made the concious decision to gear where ever I needed to so my my cadence would stay fairly high - still trying to conserve strength for the run.
To anyone who was on HWY 29 on that date: Thanks for not killing us, and sorry for the delays.
When I crossed 29 halfway to Lagrange, the police had traffic stopped for my, and there were cars backed up for at least a quarter of a mile in each direction.
The bike trip proved enlightening. I will need to get some new pedals/biking shoes before next season. My running shoes are not meant for biking and it positions me feet a little too far back on the pedals with the toe cages. The net result was a numb left foot after about mile 18.
As I came back to the park, I could hear the screams from the crowd for the finishers. I knew I still had 6 miles to run after this. I was so far back that they had to shoo people off the road in the park to make sure I didn't run over anyone on my way to transition.
T2 was pretty quick (39 seconds), and my legs didn't jelly beneath me too badly. I grabbed some gatorade on my way onto the run course. This is the course that I run almost daily - it was good to be on familiar ground. I grabbed water or gatorade at every aid station along the way (4 total). I'd drink some gatorade, and pour water over my head trying to keep cool. After about a mile or so, my legs kind of woke up a little, and I started to speed up. The turnaround was another kicker that sped me up a bit. I was glad that I knew the course so well - I knew what to expect at every turn - including the hill that will forever be know as 'the heartbreaker'. The run course took a detour loop (again, one that I know well) to make the distance come out right. Mid-way through this additional loop I came up to the heartbreaker - it's a greusome hill that climbs seemingly straight up for about 3o yards. The only solace I took was that it caught a lot of people TOTALLY off guard (I'm pretty sure of that). After the quick climb, the hill planes out a little, but I was still climbing for about 1/8 mile. Around mile 5 I passed one guy in front of me, and after I got past him (slowly past) he noticed my age on my left calf and commented on how far back we were. I told him we were still ahead of the guys on the couch, and kept on pumping ( I later learned that we were the last 2 in our age group on the clock).
The finish of the race was on a slight uphill climb (who's stupid idea was that???). As soon as I cam into view, the crowd woke up again, and cheered me into the finish gate. It's a weird, surreal moment to be that tired, and hear all the cheering and hear your name going out over the loudspeakers congratulating you.
I crossed the line strongly and confidently (goal accomplished), and immediately hugged Steph. It took me a total of 3:17:19 (which I didn't learn until 2 days later - result lag), and it was incredibly hard for a myriad of reasons....When's the next one???
I was exhausted for 2 days, and have been ravenous since the race (again multiple reasons for that). This was probably my last Tri of the year (unless, you know...). I'm looking forward to this race again next year - and looking forward to finishing faster.
Finishing!!!!!
Pics from the race:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/12191083@N02/tags/westpoint/
Final thoughts:
- Hydrate better - I got lucky this time
- Give more thought to transition set up
- still some equipment needed to smooth things
- need more structured swim workouts
- need more OWS training - could be fun
- I want to learn how to recover better
- I am (at the core) a runner - this race proved that
- I NEED goals -otherwise it feels like I'm a little aimless at times
- Racing can get expensive quickly
- I'm loving the challenge that all this presents
- I think I'm a more balance person when I'm training - focus is good.
- I'm glad I have a supportive family
- I need to schedule races more carefully - 2 races in 2 weeks followed by an all night run/walk is hard on the body and recovery.
- need more core training - time to start lifting.
- Long term goals ?? HIM? IM? Half-Mary? Mary? - - prioritize
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