Race Reports

If you need something done, ask a busy girl to do it.  Blogging just doesn’t fall into that category, apparently.  I’ve been a busy little bee, but enjoying the buzz of work and training, and trying to enjoy the gorgeous sunsets on the mountains here in Albuquerque.

Time to get caught up so I can get back to bloggin’ on a regular basis.  First, how about a Spring Cleaning Update — a pictorial of the highlights (in my opinion) of the last couple months?  (The beauty of a blog is the one-way conversation. I don’t believe I heard any objections, so here we go…)

September entailed a trip back to Cancun to announce Ironman Cancun 70.3 once again. Hot, sticky, sweaty, and lots of fun.  No pictures because I was too busy habla-ing on the mic.  Back to Mexico for Ironman Cozumel announcing. It is a grind of a job but I have to say that I do enjoy it… it’s just the 17hr race day that tests your endurance!  Again, too busy working to snap a few pictures, but with the way my hair responds to humidity, that’s probably a good thing.

Some time in between I had a visit from my younger sister, Lauren, who came to see what all this high altitude living is all about. Here we are at the Crest in ABQ… about 10k-ish feet.  Pretty awesome.

Here we are hiking around the foothills. This is literally like 1/4 mile from my house.  Pinch me.

And then I had a visit from Danny . . . who was scoping out his future home.  We took a little road trip and were just giddy when we saw this sign.  Truth or Consequences is actually a town in New Mexico, which we thought was hilarious. An impromptu photo shoot was to be had, and we swerved off the road…

My 13yr old amusement continued when I read that the ELEPHANT BUTT was right down the road.  Butte, Butt… tomato, tomaaaaato.

Then, someone and a UHAUL made the trek across country in December.

I headed back to ATL for a couple days with my coach and friends at The Sport Factory . . .

And all the while at home, my poor dog was being tormented by a man and his football. . .

It was not without a protest on her part, though. I was pretty proud of my lil’ girl.

Then, Danny and I headed to Costa Rica to work the Rev3 races. What an awesome inaugural event.  We were too busy announcing 4 races all weekend to get too many photos, but someone snapped this pic of me and Michael Lovato, who happens to be a trip on the mic, as we awaited the pros at the finish line.

Costa Rica was a blast. The Ticos (Costa Ricans) are full of life and really made it easy to get everyone fired up in the morning.  We had a pretty competitive pro start list, but it seemed like everyone was pretty laid back and really just soaking up the experience of an early-season, low-pressure, fun event.

Here’s a fun video with the age groupers at the start of the half rev race on Sunday.  The Ticos didn’t disappoint, and made my job pretty darn fun.

http://vimeo.com/20136192

My sister Lauren and I decided to run a half marathon in AZ in February.  It was fun, except for the long-ass climbs on this course, which were not entirely represented on the course profile. Grrr…  but I did my best and finished 2nd female in 1:26:41… off my target of 1:25, but given the very tough course, I’m grateful for what I did! And I’m happy with my nutrition- Double Latte Powergels kept me buzzin’ and the tummy didn’t revolt.

Once I had finally made peace with the stupid long climbs on this course, I approached the last two miles of the race and found myself weaving through headphone-wearing (they can’t hear you yelling) walkers and joggers finishing the 5k.  Adults, kids, stroller, dogs, and even a TURTLE were part of the obstacle course (most of it on a 3ft wide sidewalk) of the last couple miles of the race.  Great for a family event; not so much for a fast or competitive race.

Here’s a visual of what we ran through to get to the finish line. No joke.

What? You thought I was joking about the turtle?

I found Lauren and ran her to the finish line.  She hit her own PR, and then hit the couch. Such a drama queen!

Thanks to my mom who came to cheer us across the line, as we dodged turtles, dogs, and kids.

And then, of course, she tried to rope us into some ridiculous photo shoot, which of course had us squealing in horror.

I could not stop laughing. See far right of photo for proof.

And we got one with our MVP – Thanks for the pics, Danny!

The 2011 Season has begun!  First up is New Orleans 70.3.  Ahhh!  Hard to believe it’s time to go already. REALLY excited to put in a full season this year as this “PTP” (part-time-pro) has been working her tail off.  Normal blogging will commence now, so that the marathon photo blogs do not continue… thanks for sticking in there!   Best of luck to all those racing Oceanside next weekend.  Here we go, people!

Love me some desert!

As promised, I planned one last sprint triathlon in my extensive 2010 race plan.  When I discovered the Amica 19.7 Phoenix race was about 20min from my mom’s house with a pro race/purse, it was a no brainer.  But before we get all triathlony on you, can we just please acknowledge how incredibly gorgeous these two girls are?

Mom was demonstrating how to really “work the camera,” and well, Shaina is just naturally photogenic without trying.

OK, back to triathlon.

Danny and I drove to beautiful Lake Pleasant the day before to check out the course, and I laughed when I realized that I had believed this was a flat course (descriptions weren’t posted till just before the race).   (You laugh at these things when it’s a sprint;  with an Ironman, maybe not so much.)  Whatever — it’s a sprint! That became the phrase du jour.  But yeah– it was all either up or down.

I was super excited to see my favorite housemate from our Eagleman weekend in 2009, Courtenay Brown, who was also racing.  CB and I have shared some very special moments together… like the purchase of my first mankini. She is a trip and one of my favorite homegirls. Here we are in all our post-race glamour.

Mom and Lucky # 7 before the start.

Swim was uneventful, up until the end.  I was actually feeling really good. Of the 9 pro women who started, I knew that I was towards the back but there were at least a few athletes behind me… I realize that I’m not setting the bar tremendously high with my excitement over my swim placement, BUT for a short course event (and short course swimmers), I was just happy to be where I was.  So here I am thinking I was a stud, swimming like a champ, and headed to the swim exit. The sun was in my eyes and I apparently overshot the runway. Next thing I know I almost ran smack into a big orange kayak with a dude yelling that I swam to the wrong side of the dock.  OOPS. Damn sun in my eyes!!  Crap…there goes my fab swim. I backtracked while cussing (you can indeed swim and cuss at the same time), and swam around the dock, admonishing myself for my stupid blunder for losing time.  For the record, though, 750 meters is an awesome swim distance.  Now if only the bike was a bit longer!

The bike was short and sweet (16 miles!), and all up or down.  3 full and somewhat tight u-turns that almost had me unclip… but then I knew that my coach would harass me to no end if I ever admitted it. He already tells me that I corner like an ocean liner.  True… I prefer flat, fast, and hammering! But this was fun and I did my best to catch up, making up some time and one place on the bike.

Can you tell how much fun I’m having? I BOMBED down those hills and had a blast the whole time.  Until, that is, I was coming up the last hill and found this annoying pontoon-boat-pulling truck in front of me.  Are you kidding me?  And on a hill, no less.  This may be a recreation area, but don’t they realize that I’m ON A MISSION!  Out of my way dude!!

This was right about when I yelled “ON YOUR LEFT!!!”  Yeah, seriously. I did.

My demeanor improved drastically once I passed… and I was actually laughing at my pontoon boat buddy’s look of bewilderment at this lunatic screaming “on your left” and passing up the hill.

The transition (and the steep up/down hill) were covered in chipped seal and lots of loose gravel/small stones which made for a fun (and profanity-filled) interlude between sports.  Loved the race, Amica, but how about a good sweeping or maybe some cheap outdoor carpet for next year?  A pedicure is in order for sure.

But back to the run… fun fun fun! It was hilly as hell (they said one of the beauties was 16%) but hey, you can do anything for just 3.1 miles, right?  I made up some more time and caught another one on the run.  I felt surprisingly in control despite the ridiculous hills and was just enjoying the fact that it was all over in 3.1 short miles.  My god I love this distance!

Check out that gorgeous backdrop!

Super stealth local girl Elizabeth Rich came out of nowhere and I was pleasantly surprised to hear her out on the course. She got this oh-so-gratuitous finish line fist pump photo. Hey, my Mom, Alex, and Danny were waiting for me at the finish line, and I had to let ‘em know I was coming! Love me a good fist pump.

Thanks so much to the best race sherpa, photog, and partner in crime. 

Back at the crib (mom’s crib), we cleaned up and showed the “Active Adult Community” how to shake it on the dance floor.

Although these two seem to be doing just fine themselves. . . (identities are concealed to protect the not-so-innocent.)

A BIG thank you to my coach, Matt Russ, for tolerating my sprint aspirations.   I promise to go back to 70.3 racing in 2011! This has been a year of transition and the best kind! I love my new job and I love being so engaged and challenged. I will figure out a way to balance it all, because I am not done with this racing thing just yet!  I am so grateful to be able to compete at this level– I want to make the most of it.

Overall, a 5th place finish among some FAST chicas, posting top-3 bike/run splits and some loot to boot!   I was shooting for top 5, so no complaints at all.   Sprints are so much fun– fast, furious, and you can keep it simple. A few Powergels were all I needed.  Having the support of my favorite people was the best part ever.

Actually, being able to walk the next day was the best part ever.  In my next life, I want to come back as a fierce aquatic beast so that I can rock out short course, not walk funny the next day, and still have a life.  A girl can dream. 

10/13/10

I never did think those “Bloopers” shows were very funny.  And, well, neither is this one. The title was fitting, however, so we’ll keep it.

When I decided to move to New Mexico, start a new job, and try to develop this territory, I realized something had to give.  Working full-time and training to race at this level is hard enough when I have a “system” and a regular schedule.  Throw in all the other variables and I knew I couldn’t do it. Actually, I didn’t even care to try.  Why do something half-assed?  Coach Matt and I decided to back off the original plan (mostly 70.3 racing), get settled, and then commence a most vigorous sprint triathlon training plan!    I really wanted to end the year with at least a couple races, and I could commit to the time required for a sprint, so it was back again to beautiful Santa Rosa Island, FL for a great weekend at the beach with a fun little sprint race thrown in.  And some bloopers.

Before I start whining, let’s set the scene with an image that depicts how idyllic this place is:

Santa Rosa Island is a real panhandle gem.  Unlike its coozie-toting, airbrushed-tshirt-sporting stepsister city (Panama City Beach), Santa Rosa Island is mostly blanketed in pristine, angel-dusted-white beaches, and miles of untouched, protected land.  I did, however, spy the token “beach crap shop,” and wasted no time in capturing my best Snookie pose as I tried on their wares.

s

Danny and I nearly got blown over on the pier, and I really think that these photos would’ve been far better had I bought that hat, but we made do with what we had.

Friday night the wind was pretty wicked (as evidenced by my windswept-hair-in-the-face glamour shot) and I was questioning my beloved disc wheel choice for race day.  Not a fan of the crazy crosswinds while riding a disc.  The bike shop dude at the expo assured me that the mechanic would be able to change out my cassette to ride the 808 rear on race morning.  (Do you hear the ominous foreshadowing music playing in the background? You should… this is where the Bloopers come into play…)

Like the helpless soul that I am, I decided to take him up on it. I am pretty good at pedaling, but am decidedly worthless when it comes to anything else bike-related.  The dude does this for a living– I figured he could handle this, right?  I even told him to be sure to check the space between my brakes to ensure no rubbing. That was a GREAT call on my part. . . would’ve been even more fab– had I checked myself.

He changed my cassette, popped on the 808, and I cheerfully racked my bike.  (Is there something missing here? No test spin, no reviewing it . . . nothing. Brilliant!)

This was me trying to suck some swim-mojo before the start from my badass teammate and sick-fast swimmer, Sam Morgan.

So I had a fabulous blooper-worthy belly flop into the water but swam just fine (for me). I was 2 minutes down from the first female out of the water.  I was hungry to get on my bike and catch her. It was just 18 miles of deliciously flat road, out-and-back, and my ideal type of bike course to hammer.  Within about 30 seconds of riding, however, I heard that dreadful rubbing noise; my brake was rubbing on the wheel.  For a split-second, I comically considered stopping to attempt to fix it myself, which would’ve likely resulted in nothing being fixed but only more time being wasted.  So I rode . . . I rubbed and I rode. And I cussed. I was so mad.  Mad at the mechanic, but way more mad at myself. Ultimately this was my responsibility to check it.  I did my very best with the situation at hand; I put my head down and just grinded it out. Unfortunately, my efforts were enough for a decent ride but nothing of what I would expect of myself (and what I was counting on!).  I was still 2 minutes down coming out of T2, and only had a 5k to run. I didn’t lose any time, but I made up NO time on the bike… blasphemy!

Six days before the race I was in urgent care w/ bronchitis. That was my biggest concern all week. This was, after all, my big bad sprint race!!    Thankfully, it mostly was gone by race day, but it turned out that my small little oversight (that’s a nice way of saying dumbass mistake) was my biggest issue.  Despite the disappointment, I couldn’t help but smile as I headed out of transition, because after all, I was in Santa Rosa Island– one of my favorites– and this was just a fun weekend at the beach.  Who cares that I screwed up? I was just happy to be racing after my four month sabbatical.

I didn’t think I’d catch her, but I was going to try my best.  I had about two minutes to make up in 3.1 miles. I closed the gap down to 23 seconds, but ran out of real estate.  One more quarter mile. . . !!!    Oh well, you live and you learn.  Let’s hope that this Bloopers– Race Day Edition is a one-hit-wonder and we never revisit it again.

So here we are, the two “bridesmaids,” with our 2nd place awards.  Sam, incidentally, ripped it up and came in 2nd to Brian Fleischmann.  Sam is one to watch!

There were some other decidedly worthwhile moments of the weekend.  At the top of the list was driving along the gulf coast beaches, and seeing first-hand the powerful action of BP’s dollars hard at work in the oil clean up efforts.  I was able to capture this particular go-getter;  It was tough to get a good shot as he and his coworkers were moving so quickly.

We weren’t moving so quickly, either.  This was my personal fave. It’s just so hard to smile in a place like this. 

So . . . a few bloopers, a little race, a lot of sun, and a great weekend overall.  A big thanks to Charles of SRITRI Race Director fame for putting on another great event, and of course a big thank you to my coach, Matt Russ, for not strangling me for my bloopers (the geographic wedge between us now prevents him from lodging his foot up my ass at whim, thank god).   I’ve got one more big bad sprint race in November before I retire my 2010 racing shoes (they’re barely worn in!), and it will be in my mom’s backyard in AZ.  Can’t wait!!  And then I’m very much looking forward to jumping back into the 70.3 ring in 2011.

A general ABQ update is long-overdue, and that’s in the pipeline. . .  Hope you’re all doing well. Thanks for checking in.

Bad photo, but I love my girl April. Race morning.

I had planned to return to race Eagleman this year, but due to a lot of changes taking place (stay tuned), I had to make some adjustments in the schedule. Travel for a race was no longer an option, so I turned to the local/regional favorite: The GA Rock ‘N Rollman Half Ironman in hot, sweaty, and sultry Macon, GA.

There is probably a reason why I never considered this race before.  Perhaps it has to do with the 5000% humidity, combined with the hilly course with zero shade.  Suck it up, Buttercup. I jumped in.

As a side note, I would just like to mention that the volunteers were awesome at this race. It’s not easy to get people out there in those conditions.   Volunteers can come in all shapes and sizes, and from any demographic. I thought I had seen it all . . . until I saw these guys.  They were awesome!  Hey, what’s more morale-boosting for an inmate than to get to spend the day with half-naked athletes?

There was not an official “pro field,” but rather an Open/Elite wave to qualify for the smaller prize purse; about half of the Open/Elites on the men’s and women’s side had a pro card. It’s a cool opportunity for amateur elites to also race for some prize money.  So it was a bit of a surprise, to say the least, to see Nina Kraft’s name on the start list.  I raced at Steelhead with her last year, and she stomped me on the swim (as did most), I passed her on the bike, and the returned the favor on the run.  I figured it would be a fun chase at the very least.

My coach, Matt Russ, has killer skills when it comes to motivational pep talks. Two days before the race, he was in top form when he delivered one of his best lines ever:  “Shut the ____ up and just get out there and race!” Girls can be so whiney (just sayin’).  He is pretty good at dealing with me.

Coming off of my wretched swim at Gulf Coast, my aquatic confidence was a bit shot.  So you can understand my delight to see my good buddy, Mark Maclachlan, at the swim start. I had no idea he was racing in the Open wave!  Mark and I are perfectly matched in the pool. We swim masters together and share a lane, and I have been known to actually beat him on occasion!  However, I am “open water special needs,” so I knew my best bet would be to stay on his feet and draft like a champ.

I am pleased to announce that Mark accepted my proposal and kindly came on board as my NEW SWIM DRAFT SPONSOR. I cannot believe I waited this long to pursue this important type of sponsorship.  He was FAB. I tickled his toes all the way around that gorgeous, flat-as-glass lake, and emerged from the water in a SHOCKING 28:24.  Shocking for me, that is.  My previous PR was 30+, and that was with a wetsuit and a current at Steelhead.  I didn’t care what happened the rest of the race; I finally wasn’t cussing coming out of the water, so it could only be a good day!

I jumped on my bike and screamed to Danny on the side of the road “CALL MATT AND TELL HIM MY SWIM TIME!!!”  — that was my only concern at that point. I wanted my coach to know the freakish swim performance I just miraculously pulled off.  Again, whatever else happened was a moot point.

I passed my good buddy April early on (another testament to the power of a Drafting Sponsor– April can crush me in the water and I didn’t expect to see her so soon) and yelled something to her cute pink ass about LET’S GO.  I had never ridden that course before but it was pretty much all up or down.  After about 40 miles I was irritated that I hadn’t caught anyone else, because I can usually reel in some more women by that point.  Then at mile 50 I caught Nina and it occurred to me–  I was 3rd out of the water.  This was like an act of God.   I put as much time on Nina as I could in the remaining 6 miles, and came into transition with a 2:30 bike split– very pleased as this was a tough course, and it was the fastest by over 5min.  As I rounded the last corner into Transition, I saw Danny, Sam, and Matt and they were all screaming and jumping up and down. I was cracking UP!! I don’t think they expected to see me come into T2 first– it was pretty cool.

I’d need that cushion, though (and more!), because the run was just miserable!  Macon is like The Trifecta of Hell:  Hot, Hilly, and Humid.  My goals of a run in the low 1:30s were soon dashed as I struggled to hold a pace at least 20sec off my goal pace.  No biggie– the conditions were very tough and I was still grateful to pull that off with the crazy schedule I’ve been maintaining the last few weeks.  I ended up with a less-than-stellar 1:37, and Nina beat me by just over 4min.  4:38 overall time and 2nd place.  Always the bridesmaid . . .  ha!

Photo by sammorganphoto.com

I’m actually thrilled. I’ve been juggling things like a circus performer lately with a LOT of changes going on.  This was a great race given the conditions and the amount of focus I’ve had on triathlon lately.  There is no such thing as balance in my opinion; it’s just a juggling act!

I was happy. I swear.

My teammates rocked it out in the Sprint race and it was just awesome to race (again) with so many friends and acquaintances out on the course.

Dr. Sadri and super ultra-marathoner bad-ass, Jennifer Vogel, of First Choice Healthcare, were there to take care of all the athletes in all their nastiness. These guys are the best and I have Sadri to thank for keeping me injury free since 2008.  If you are an athlete in ATL, definitely seek them out.

Of course, a huge shout-out to my sponsors (ha!), especially my SWIM DRAFT SPONSOR, Mark Maclachlan, for really taking one for the team.  I’ll be adding your logo-face to my website shortly . . .       Here’s my new sponsor and I post-race.  And yes, there are about 50 cold towels, a visor, AND a ghetto-style, backwards hat full of ice on top of my head.

Swim Draft Sponsor Mark

My former marketing professor from my MBA program, Dr. Jim Linck, has since taken the dive head-first into this crazy sport, alongside his equally awesome twin brother, Paul Linck.  I ran past Paul at one point and wasn’t sure which one it was . . . it was funny.  “Go Ji… go Pau. . . GO LINCK!” These guys are a trip and it was great to see them out there.

Last year I did mostly all big 70.3 races and nothing local.  This race was a great reminder of how much fun a local race can be.  Pretty low-key, but surprisingly VERY well run, despite four different races going on at the same time.  A big thumbs-up to GA Multisports and SetUp Events.

Of course, thank you to my kick-ass coach, Matt Russ. We’ve been through it all and I feel like he knows me so well (more than he’d probably prefer to) and I wouldn’t trust anyone more than I trust him.   If you have a great coach helping you achieve your goals, don’t forget to show them some love.  When it clicks, it clicks.  I feel very lucky.

ps: I’ll be accepting applications for a FEMALE Swim Draft Sponsor moving forward to fulfill my sponsorship needs in the pro wave of most bigger races.  Please submit your proposals as soon as possible; I expect this to be a very competitive application process.

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!

Pre-Head-Banging. FIRED UP!

I think it’s funny that my last post was titled “T.G.I.Don’t.Know.”

I DIDN’T know a lot of anything after the race. I was totally out of it.  So the verdict is that I had some sort of concussion, as evidenced by my complete cluelessness as to how I ended up on the side of the road.  It’s scary to think of what could happen without a helmet, if falling on a turn (at low speeds) turned me into a rambling mess.  I have been told I’m thick headed, which, when combined with a good helmet, may not be such a bad thing. 

So my little email from my blackberry in the med tent was before I totally had it together (obviously).  I don’t really remember calling Danny but I do remember crying for a long time.  After I calmed my butt down, I realized what happened.   My previously ominous post, mentioning my concern for a crowded course, was spot-on, but it wasn’t the cause of the crash.   This was a very different course to race, because it consisted of 4 x 12mi loops.  Consider so many athletes (pros and amateurs all racing different speeds) stuffed into 12 miles with 4 tight u-turns per loop, and there doesn’t leave much space for each athlete.  As a result, I was definitely over-paced and out of my typical wattage range, but I was just trying like hell to move up and keep a clean race. There were some really strong age group men, and the only way to avoid a drafting penalty was to either drop back, or push harder and go past them.  I chose option #2.  The swim was incredibly hard, long, choppy, and into the current and waves the first 1800m— all the athletes were slower, and I was wayyyy slow.  So I had some catching up to do.  And I was doing it!  By the end of the 3rd loop, I was on pace to bike a sub-2:08, which would’ve been with the top girls on the bike.  But — COULDA WOULDA SHOULDA, right?   I made the tight u-turn and one of those reflector bumpy things in the road got in my way (WHO PUT THAT THERE?!) . . . and that was all she wrote. 

Next thing I know I was howling on the side of the road, crying hysterically, and just repeating, “But I came so far!! I want to race!!”   … yet completely confused as to how I ended up there.  (Not a good way to convince them to let you back on your bike.)

The funny thing is that I am very careful on the bike. I had never had a crash or a DNF, and I attribute that partly to the fact that I am so careful (but mostly lucky— it’s bound to happen).  I’m not upset anymore; I’m just grateful that it wasn’t worse. I have friends who have been VERY badly injured in bike wrecks (Mikey, Matt, Pam…) and I am just walking away with some good bruises and road rash, all of which will heal. Thanks so much for all the nice words/notes on Facebook and email… I was really feelin’ the love.  I mean that.  The big picture is a GOOD one, and I’m feeling nothing but gratitude at this point– no longer disappointment.

A big part of that is because I have met some great people here and we have had an awesome few days exploring Perth and other areas of Western Australia.  Over the next couple days  I’ll post more photos. Stay tuned for wine tasting, kangaroo chasing, and delish pad thai on a completely deserted beach. 

Before the race: Adam Jensen, Head Banger, Becky Witinok-Huber, & Jim Lubinski.

On a mission, but headed for asphalt.

Med tent: race over.

Team USA’s Tim O’donnell was crowned the 2009 Long Distance World Champ — big congrats to this former military officer on a wicked fast race. Well done, Sir!

World Champ Tim!