1.2mile swim, 56mile bike, 13.1mile run
Clearwater, FL
November 10, 2007
I feel like for the last several months I’ve been swimming under water, holding my breath . . . wanting to come up for air but just continuing to push. We all know that I’m somewhat aquatically-challenged, and by November 10th, my face was blue.
I needed air.
It’s been a long season, starting with Powerman Alabama in April. It’s also been the best year I’ve ever had in the sport, so no complaints. After Short Course Duathlon Nationals in July, I threw my coach for a loop when I told him I wanted to add Powerman Ohio , Long Course DU Worlds, and still keep 70.3 Worlds on the schedule. “Oh, and you don’t mind peaking me for all 3 races, right Matt?”
I think he wanted to kill me. He probably figured doing those three races all three weeks apart would kill me first, though.
Adrenaline and excitement has carried me through, though, and I was excited for one last hard effort. However, when I arrived in Clearwater , I was exhausted, emotionally and physically. I’m not sure what it was, but I just broke down and wasn’t feeling itch to get out there. I had given my parents “time off for good behavior,” and told them that they didn’t have to make the trip down. I feel pretty infantile admitting this, but I kinda regretted that once I got there.
Like I said in my last race report, it’s amazing what a good friend can do or say to light the fire under your ass. My coach, Matt Russ, is fully responsible for the complete 180 degree shift in my attitude the day before the race. I got an email from him that will soon be printed, laminated, and occupy permanent real estate in my gym bag. I can’t give away all his secrets, but in addition to giving valuable tactical advice, he sparked my spirit by reminding me that people will often try to put us in a box and label us. In my case, I was all but tagged and bagged with “Duathlon Only” or whatever else comes to mind (everything but water?!). Time to prove ‘em wrong.
He also said to get on that bike and rip their legs off.
God I love that line. And who says nice girls don’t like a little aggression?!!
With a shit-eatin’ grin on my face, Kris Kester and I headed down to the beach to do our open-water swim practice. As expected, Kris swam off like the confident fish that she is, while I tried to make friends with a nice group of guys who looked strong and meaty (READ: STRONG enough to fight off a shark; MEATY enough to look tastier than me). I convinced them that solidarity would fend off any curious big fish, and then resorted to flat-out begging them to keep me on their feet! I have no shame. I’m terrified of the ocean, of all the things that could easily eat me for breakfast. It is so silly to me that we splash around in their home, their kitchen. Get me the hell on dry land (and preferably on a bike).
Shocker—I survived unscathed. The water felt pretty good. We then did a short ride to check out the run course, and then I did about a 15min run with some pick-ups. I felt fast and ready to POP. NOW I was excited. NOW I was ready to go. I was looking for some legs to rip off. Hee hee…
My only goal for race day was to just leave every shred of myself on that course.
My friends were driving down Friday night to watch the race. I spoke with Mike G. and told him that they didn’t need to get to the swim start if they got in too late—no big deal. He responded by saying that he wouldn’t dare miss the opportunity to see me crying on the beach again. Back in 2005, I was crying like a baby on the beach of Florianopolis , Brazil , just before the start of our first Ironman. Mike tried to console me, but I know he was also scared sh*tless. I could see the pee coming out of his wetsuit. Ha! Maybe it’s a mix of nerves and excitement (along with apprehension), but I’m definitely guilty of crying before some big races.
No tears on race day this time, though. I was so fired up and ready to roll. I was feeling more confident from the last few wins, and I was excited to jump over this last hurdle, the last race of the year. I couldn’t wait to see what I could do on this course. I was ready.
1.2 Mile Swim
All women 18-34 went off in the first amateur wave behind the pros. It was definitely one of the most violent swim starts I’ve ever suffered through. OK I know I said I wanted to rip some legs off on the bike, but can’t we just be nice to each other in this silly little swim portion?? Ugh. I ain’t gonna lie—I was miserable. I had nowhere to go, and I wasn’t getting there quickly. There was such a small space that I could occupy, and even if I wanted to stop and wave a white flag, I couldn’t. I was getting trampled from behind, too. Those nasty three little letters started creeping into my mind . . . D-N-F (Did Not Finish). I quickly admonished myself for even suggesting to my brain that this was a possibility. I suffered through and tried to survive. Then . . . PEACE. Wow, everyone just seemed to chill out. Did we all come to an agreement? Are we playing nice now? Thank you! Thank you! You guys are great.
Then I looked up. I was TOTALLY alone—that’s why. Totally alone means totally off course.
I had swum pretty far off course. There’s a price to pay for not getting kicked, pulled, and dragged down. Sure, I found my space alright. Crap!! I was practically in the middle of the buoys now. I headed back on course.
This happened twice during the swim. My time was even slower than last year by almost a minute and a half!! I was so mad when I got out of the water. I have definitely improved my swim over last year, so the only excuse I have is the massive detour I took in the water. It’s no excuse—that’s all part of being a good swimmer . . . which I hope to become soon. SWIM TIME: 35:24.
56 Mile Bike
Anyway let’s just say I had some work to do. I got on that bike and just started pushing. I love the bike and was flying past people. They changed the bike course this year with some longer flat sections and it was definitely fast. I just kept picking people off. That’s the one perk about being a crappy swimmer—it’s good for the self esteem once you do get on the bike and start reeling ‘em in.
This race last year was notorious for having large draft packs and sick fast bike times as a result. I was bound and determined to have a completely individual effort on this course. The 30-34yr old men started after us, and it wasn’t long before they were sprinkling into the bike course. I probably pushed harder than normal, just because I wanted to stay ahead of everyone and NOT get sucked into a pack. I’m very proud to say that my bike split was 100% my own effort. BIKE TIME: 2:19:22 (24.11mph avg.)
13.1 Mile Run
Remember… every shred of myself on this course. I’ve never run faster than a 1:36 in a half ironman run, but I was ready to see how much better I could do. My heart rate was through the roof, but this was it: the last event, the last race of the year—I had nothing to lose. Let’s just roll with it. At the 6.5mile turn-around I was at 44:30. I knew I was on track to PR. I ran past my friends and smiled, giving them a thumbs-up and a fist-pump. Yeah, I admit it; I did a fist-pump. I just couldn’t resist. The more people start hootin’ and hollering, the more energy I find. Even though I looked happy and without a care in the world, I was suffering and just making all kinds of negotiations with myself to just HANG ON TILL THE END!! I knew where I was in the race and I knew there were some badasses just ahead of me, and several coming up behind me. I passed Jo Adamson (cheering Jon on to his age group world champion title!) as I was running to the finish, and she yelled to me “Let’s go Amy! It’s throw-up time now!” If I wasn’t hurting so much I would’ve laughed. It was funny. Jo knows my routine now I guess. Not to disappoint, I puked as soon as I finished. I was totally spent. . . and I left every shred of myself on that course. Jessica Jacobs finished about 40 seconds ahead of me and had an awesome race. I never thought I’d let someone beat me by just 30-40 seconds, but I gave it absolutely everything I had. She did too, and that day it was worth more than mine! RUN TIME: 1:30:48 (6:55/mile avg. pace)
FINAL TIME: 4:30:22
I finished 3rd in the world in the (30-34) age group, and was ecstatic. It’s been a very good year and I’m so grateful to my coach, Matt Russ, for helping me achieve the goals that I didn’t even know were within my reach. Typical of our breed, even though I was thrilled with my result, I quickly noticed that the age group world champion finished just over 2min ahead of me, but swam over 6min faster! The wheels started turning . . . I know what I have to work on, and I will get there.
Huge congrats to Jon Adamson, who was the age group world champion in (70-74), Steve Riddle was 2nd in (40-44), and Kevin Moats 3rd in (50-54). Atlanta did well! Also congrats to my Sport Factory teammates Dylan Rist, Dan Arnett, Maja Gottlieb, Kris Kester, and Patty Totaro for their awesome efforts on race day.
Even though I now have plenty of air to breath with racing behind me, I’m only 10 days out and I’m already totally itching to get back! Every one of my athlete friends has expressed similar sentiments after ending their seasons. We really are an odd group.
Thanks so much for your support, motivation, and encouragement this year.
Happy Thanksgiving!!
Love,
Amy
Photos: I’m attaching a few photos from the race courtesy of my buddies. The awards ceremony was the coolest one I’ve ever attended. Bands, fireworks, even huge screens to post the winners names, countries, and splits. What a thrill. For some reason 2nd and 4th place didn’t show up, so it was just 1st (Kathleen Culkins), 3rd (me), and 5th (Rachel Ross).
0 Responses
Stay in touch with the conversation, subscribe to the RSS feed for comments on this post.