Gulf Coast Race Report

So sorry to torment you all with so many sleepless nights, anxiously awaiting a new blog post.  Actually I am a bit irritated from my own lack of presence on my very own website, but alas, life gets (very) busy, I start juggling, and the triage process begins.  And the blog falls to the back.  Hey, I never claimed to be a “real” pro; I’m a workin’ girl and the blog doesn’t pay the bills.  But I’m back on the wagon — promise.

And then I have one of those races that just doesn’t seem worthy of a race report.  But, a deal’s a deal, and I am a race reportin’ kind of girl.  So sit back, relax, and enjoy the (horror) show.

Ahhh, the return to Gulf Coast Triathlon in Panama City Beach. What is it about the Redneck Riviera that I find so enchanting?  With its white sand beaches, beer coozies, airbrushed tshirts, long hair (on men), and nascar-esqe parasailing, it just draws me back for more–  what can I say.  GCT was my very first half ironman back in 2004, as a Team In Training member.  I had so much fun that I came back for more in 2006.  And then I won the race as an amateur in 2008, which was a big surprise for me, and even more awesome because I got a picture of this fab car decor on the way back home.

BEST PHOTO EVER.   How many races can keep you this entertained? Of course I had to go back.

I had the best couple training blocks I’ve ever had leading up to the race, and I was FIRED UP.  I was ready to break some personal barriers.  I had a very busy week leading up to the race with work and travel and not the ideal amount of sleep, but I was still confident, excited, and happy to be there as I warmed up the day before.

I even pushed aside my (valid! valid!) fears of being ripped apart by one of the testosterone-fueled bull sharks that calls the Gulf “home” . . . and got into the water for an (albeit very short) swim the day before the race. It is no secret that I am terrified of untimely “encounter” with a man-eating beast.  I know what you’re thinking– but it could happen!

I absolutely fell in love with my new XTERRA Vendetta wetsuit.  I can’t believe I’ve been wearing the most ghetto wetsuit all this time.  I feel like I have been driving a Ford Pinto for years, and someone just gave me the keys to a Lamborghini.  (Proof:  I never smile like this when in water.  Wrap me in flexible, buoyant rubber, though, and you can’t wipe the grin off my face.)

Unfortunately, the Lamborghini stayed parked in the garage on race day, as only the age groupers were allowed to wear wetsuits.

Race morning was authentically PCB.  We were sitting in the hotel lobby wasting time and contemplating why I got up so damn early when I glanced a few tables over and saw two guys who were clearly not battling race day nerves.  What is it about these two strapping chaps that gave me a sneaking suspicion that they were perhaps not about to embark on an endurance adventure?  It could’ve been the overwhelming stench of alcohol that made its way across the room. Or perhaps their joyous, almost raucous approach to ripping into an ice cream bar and a RockStar Energy Drink at 5:44am.  Everyone has their pre-race nutrition plan; you just never know.  They were clearly endurance junkies, as they had been on a marathon of an evening and weren’t about to DNF before the sun came up.  I cracked up and asked them, “You guys are probably not racing, right?”

They enjoyed my amusement and were clearly not camera shy.  This, my friends, is what I love about Panama City Beach.

You know how they say you can’t win a race with a great swim, but you sure can lose it with a bad one?   Let that be the theme of this race report.

The waters were particularly rough (easily 3ft waves), so much so that I literally stopped four times to ask the guys on the wave runners where the hell the buouys were.  Yep– couldn’t see anything.  Nor could I see any other athletes.  Now, nobody’s ever accused me of being Amanda Beard, but I was counting on a swim in the low-30s — consistent with my swims over the past year.  So you can imagine my horror when I came out of the water in 37+! I was shocked.  Almost 8min slower than my previous race.   Given that I didn’t know where I was going, couldn’t see the buoys, and generally suck at swimming in rough open water, I am pretty sure that I took the scenic route back to shore.  We later learned the the top men came out of the water in 30min, so everyone’s times were off.  Mine was just ghastly.

I got on the bike and was ready to make up some time. As soon as I started riding, however, my aerobottle started bouncing around and I felt like I was in a slow motion horror show, trying to catch it with one hand while balancing my bike with the other, yet knowing that someone or something was going down soon.  Then it flew off and slid across the road, and I had to stop, circle back, pick it up, stop swearing, and secure it so I could get back to work.  I did all the above but stop swearing.  Just kidding.

The only good thing about this photo is the caption that was unintentionally captured at the top.  The sign was clearly referring to the go-carts, but I do love that it mysteriously landed in my photo.

I picked it up and had a good bike ride (time-wise), posting the fastest female split around 23+mph.  But it was about 10-15 watts below my typical race wattage the last 2 years.  Weird.  The only explanation for this was that the rough, long swim took way more out of me, and I was just depleted.  I don’t really care about my time or my speed. I know what I can put out wattage-wise, and I didn’t hit the mark.  I need to get stronger in the water, period, if I want to do what I can do on the bike and run.  This swim sucked the life out of me.

My tough swim was like the gift that kept on giving.  If I didn’t have it on the bike, I REALLY didn’t have it on the run.  While I’m pleased that I still finished 2nd overall, I was darn lucky to do so, because I was not where I wanted to be, where I trained to be, or where I expected to be.  BUT that’s why it’s a race; the best man (or woman) can win on any given day– and it just wasn’t me that day!

I’d be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge how awesome it was to be running the back half of the half-marathon and have so many athletes, just heading out on the start of their run, high-fiving and and giving me encouragement.  There is a sense of solidarity, regardless of our goals or our times, knowing that everyone is out there doing their best and supporting each other.  So while I knew I was having a crap day for me, I also knew that I was lucky to be there, was feeling the love from the other athletes which I appreciated so much, and owed it to myself and everyone else to keep on truckin’.

Perhaps as a way to LOCK IN a fun race day, about 100m from the finish line, with the homeland in sight, I get stopped by the officials to “stand down for two minutes” for mis-racking my bike in T2.   Are you kidding me?!  As if this run isn’t bad enough– now you’re going to add time to it?! Horror.

Progress is exciting, but it also raises our expectations and our perceptions of success.  That is not lost on me. I am still grateful for finishing 2nd — something that I never could’ve imagined when I ran that same course with the purple Team In Training jersey years ago.  That makes me smile, even if it’s not the same thing I expected or wanted in 2010.

PERSPECTIVE!

That’s why I love racing, and what keeps me coming back. It keeps you on your toes, working hard, and hungry for more.

Well, I’m on my toes and I’m still hungry! 

Lastly, I would like to give a shout-out to Panama City for providing the flattest, most gorgeous water — 24 hours AFTER the race!  A day late and  a dollar short — but still very pretty.

I haven’t seen the last of GCT.  I want to battle that race (or myself) again, and I will.

OK, the truth is that I want to buy a coozie, an airbrushed tshirt, and see my two RockStar guys one more time!