Saturday, July 2, 2016

Ironman Coeur d'Alene 70.3 - 2016

Coeur d’Alene 70.3 is in the books, and what a weekend it was!


Heading into this race, I had been nervous.  I knew it would be packed with strong, fast athletes.  I was intimidated...  At least, until about a week or two before, and taper was in full swing and I caught myself feeling—relaxed?!  Sure, I was looking forward to racing, which always brings some slight anxiety, but it was a really happy, excited type of anxiety.  This was new! 

Even once we arrived in town, and surrounded by the hype, I was pretty calm.  Never got super nervous, until a little bit well into the evening the night before.  Nothing new there.  All that to say: I felt good.  I did a nice, full taper.  My knee and IT band were acting up all week, but even that didn’t throw me for much of a loop.  I was remarkably calm and just wanted to get things started.

Quick swim test with Allen, Mac and Shawn who had just gotten in to town.  Ummmm, the water is really cold, guys.  Standing on the steps in the water, my feet felt chilly.  Finally took the plunge and tried to swim and instantly got a total ice cream headache.  The water was rough, from the boats and sea planes in the lake, but we pushed through.  After what felt like forever (but probably only 3 or 4 minutes), the pain subsided as everything just went numb.  After a few more buoys, we turned around.  I mostly just wanted to feel the water and know what kind of cold to expect, and that’s about as much time as I wanted to spend in the water (plus, seriously, choppy!).  Even that freezing cold didn’t faze me too much, as far as race nerves!

Yuuuup, the water is chilly...eeek!
 Back to the house to get the bikes ready.  Quick spin out on the run course, tightened my rear wheel which was clunking again, and tried to loosen up my knee.  It was ok, but I could definitely feel it.  

Spinning things out and checking out the run course

Soooo aero ;)
Made it back to Ironman village for bike check-in and athlete meeting….

…I’m sorry, what?  Where are our bike racks?  Way the heck in the middle of nowhere?!

Look, I get that you can’t always have a great spot.  I really do get that.  But for all the hype that Ironman make about “AWA Status,” with one of the “perks” literally being a better transition spot, this was pretty disappointing.  Honestly, I would have cared a lot LESS, if they hadn’t always made such a big deal about “prime transition spot!”  Anyway, not only was transition huge, but Mac and I were at the furthest end, on the furthest side of the furthest row…  Seriously, all the other higher number spots were better, because that area of transition was narrower and thus the racks didn’t even go out as far as ours.

Way the heck in the middle of nowhere
 ANYWAY, it was frustrating, but what can you do.  After getting confused and trying to figure out where exactly the run swim in and bike out, and bike in and run out were (never quite was sure) we headed to the athlete meeting, which had been going for a while but we could mostly hear it from transition anyway.

A quick little run after that, and I gingerly tested out my knee. 15 minute easy, that’s it.  I won’t hurt it, right?

Well, I left from the expo and MAN I was feeling good!  I instantly knew that the taper had worked—my feet were light and my legs were fresh.  Even better, I could barely feel my knee at all and it didn’t seem to be interfering with my running!  I had to work to keep an easy pace, and secretly knew that even my easy pace was way faster than it should be.  Content, I cruised back to meet everyone.

After the rest of the usual pre-race procrastination and packing (and epic pep talk text from Monica, below), it was time to set an early alarm, and get ready to race!

I mean, how is that not inspiring??
The next day, the alarm went off way too early, and I had a split second of “what am I doing?  Oh.  Wait.  I have to get up?  And RACE??  What?!”… Dragged myself up and went into auto-pilot.  Headed to transition, set up my stuff, visited the porta-potty five billion times.  Mac barked at me to get my wetsuit on already (standard procedure), I hemmed and hawed and got the dumb thing on, before giving last hugs to my parents and Kyle.

Please note their wetsuits are on all the way and mine isn't.  This is not an unusual situation.
My dad gave me a hug, and very seriously whispered “don’t die out there, ok?!”… Kyle gave me a hug, and very seriously whispered “go kick some ass today, ok?!”

My dad during the swim...making sure I don't die.
As we joined the massive surge of wetsuit-clad athletes swarming to the entrance of the swim area, I felt myself fidgeting with my wedding ring….  Wait.  What.  What?!?!?  Why am I still wearing this, and there is NO WAY it will stay on for the swim!  I stopped, told Allen I would find him, and had to fight my way back to my parents.  I suddenly recognized the sheer magnitude of athletes that morning, as I tried to make my way “upstream” to the group.  I finally just hopped to the grass and ran that way, which was much easier, but it really quik wake-up call that holy cow there a lot of people racing.  After frantically passing my ring to my mom, I ran back..and realized I had NO idea where I had actually left Allen on the sidewalk, and that everyone literally looks the same wearing black neoprene.

Somehow, I did spot him (probably because he was the only person standing still), and we made our way to the beach.  Just as surprisingly, Mac somehow spotted us and called us over.  PHEW!  All accounted for, all set to swim, and all able to get into the right corral area in the right time.

The cannon went off, and athletes started streaming into the water.  Allen, Mac and I had situated ourselves in the 31-35 minute swim group.  As always, this is a highly optimistic time for me, but due to recent debacles in races, it seemed the best bet.  It seemed they were only letting people in a few at a time, which was really nice, but also took a while as we slooooowly made our way closer to the start.  As we neared the turn to the water, I spotted Kyle standing on the wall, and we waved and yelled to him and my parents.  ALWAYS good to make contact and a last-second boost.

By this point, they were funneling us basically single file, and Allen, Mac and I stepped over the start mat and spread out, into the water, side by side.

Swim – 0:37:33 (28th AG)

Into the water, and I immediately found Mac’s feet.  I could see Allen next to me.  Surprisingly, we stayed together for a while, and it was pretty nice to be able to follow Mac’s feet, as well as see Allen next to me every time I breathed.  I remember reaching the first buoy and thinking “oh cool, first buoy and we’re still all together!”…before promptly veering off course to the right, and totally losing them.  Ooooh well, it was nice while it lasted.
Swim start!  I think these are actually the pros...
I also realized—it wasn’t that cold!  I kept waiting, expecting to feel the cold sink in.  I was initially surprised that there was no shock of cold as I dove in, but I figured it would come.  But it never did!  I did opt to wear my normal swim cap under the race cap, which wasn’t a whole lot more insulation than the previous day but apparently it was enough.  Water temp was 62F that morning (supposedly) but the cold wasn’t an issue at all.  Phew!  Much prefer a cold pre-race swim, and being pleasantly surprised during the race.  The water sure wasn’t toasty warm, and obviously colder than last year, but nothing crazy and nothing noteworthy, other than the fact that it had felt SO cold the day before.

As I made my way out, the sun started rising over the resort to my left, and I quickly settled for breathing only on my right.  I did try to breathe “normally” aka every 3 strokes occasionally, just because it “felt” better, but then sun was so bright I couldn’t keep it up for long.  I kept drifting to my right, which was pretty frustrating, and I spent a good chunk of time on the way out trying to get myself back on track and in the middle of things—the nice thing about the spread out start was that “being in the middle of things” really wasn’t that worrisome or crazy.

I wasn’t sure how many buoys there were, I realized, which kind of made it feel like forever.  About halfway out, I got an enormous wave of water down my throat while trying to breathe.  Those giant mouthfuls of water are both bad and good, because A) your lungs prefer air, to water, and you think you’re about to die, but B) it’s so abrupt that after the initial shock that this is the end, this is how it all ends for me, you realize that actually you’re actually quite alright, and you get back to swimming within seconds.

Fiiiiiiiinally I reached the turn buoy.  It was choppier here, due to the turn, but I think it was less choppy than during the full ironman swim last year.  Swimming across to the next turn buoy, we were headed right into the sun, and I didn’t even try to sight—just swam forward-ish and tried to keep people around me.  Suddenly the second turn buoy was there –wow, that was quick!- and it was time to push back to shore.

Again, I realized I didn’t know how many buoys there were, and I got irritated that I hadn’t even counted on the way out so there was no way of knowing how many there were on the way back.  I entertained myself a bit by looking at the actual number printed on each buoy as I passed, but a few were out of order and I wasn’t sure if they were descending or ascending and I then I’d miss one and wasn’t sure….sigh.  Someday, I’ll remember to actually look at the course and take note of these things, first.

I stayed on course a liiiiiiittle bit better on the way back, which was good.  Swallowed another huge mouthful of water, but otherwise uneventful.  At about the same spot as last year, with the resort and docks to my right, I started thinking “Gee Rosanne, concentrate, you’re swimming a (half) ironman!” and had to remind myself to stay focused.  What can I say, swimming is just boring!  I need to work on staying engaged and focused, because it’s highly likely I started slowing down for no reason other than I got bored.  Whoooops.

Suddenly, I started hearing noises coming from the beach…yes!  I think that’s my favorite part of a swim; when you finally start hearing the announcer and music on shore.  The end is near, and there is life outside of this swim!

Stroke, stroke, stroke, there’s the bottom!, stroke, stroke, keep going until you can touch the bottom with your fingers, stroke, stand up!  Splashed out of the water and onto the beach, and that swim is DONE!

(Final Grope Count, for Monica: 2-4, depending on your definition/severity)

The only "swim" photo I'm in (hiding in the back).  That is my happy face to be done swimming :)
T1 – 4:02

Scampered up the beach, feeling out of it..as usual.  I heard my parents, and looked over and saw them cheering and waving!  That was fun, I usually don’t notice anything out of the swim.  I slowly tried peeling off my wetsuit.  Nothing was functioning quite right.  I glanced at my Garmin – is that a 36?! – and hit lap, to start my transition.  As I went back to fiddling with my wetsuit, and trotting along in the wave of athletes, I kept thinking “what?!  Is that seriously my swim time?!”  Please note that my goal had been 40 minutes, and even that seemed a stretch in open water.

I managed to get my left sleeve undone, as I got up to the grass, and realized I was still wearing my caps and goggles.  Dangit!!  This is all of order and now how I normally do things, what is going on!?  I tore them off my head, fiddled with  my right arm and struggled getting it off over my garmin.  What is happening, Rosanne?! You aren't doing anything right!  Finally off, I shoved my cap and goggles into my right sleeve, just so I didn’t have to hold them.  But, now it’s bouncing.  Grabbed the wrist of the sleeve, and kept on running.

And running, because we were still running through the grass, and where the heck is transition!

And running and running, but suddenly my sleeve feels lighter.  I think my goggles and caps fell out.  Someone is yelling something about dropping something.  UGHHH.

I should have stopped.  I should have gone back and grabbed my stuff.   But I was on auto-pilot, and while my brain was there telling me what to do, it really was not in control… my body was just trying to go back to its normal post-swim routing, and my normal routine does not involve back-tracking and picking something up, soooo that’s just not gonna happen.

Of course, in hindsight, I really, reaaaaally wish I had stopped because it would have taken all of 3 extra seconds, and now I lost my FAVORITE pair of goggles for open water, AND my favorite swim cap.  Yes, I'm still very bitter about it.

But, I kept running. And running.  I ran past transition, could see my rack spot on the other side of the fence, why can’t there be an entrance to transition here?!  I saw Mac’s bike still there, and was surprised—she must be in there somewhere, ahead of me.  I still had to run all the way around to the other end, then all the way back up through transition, then all the way to the end of the row.  FINALLY, as I was running up to my row, I saw Mac heading out with here bike!  “HI MAAAAAC, GO GO GO!”
SERIOUSLY, strava told me t was 0.4 miles.  Ridiculous.
I got to my spot.  There was one bike there, and one bike gone.  Better than normal, when I’m the last bike still there.  I tried to get my wetsuit off, had to yank it off with my hands and try not to fall over.  Always graceful.  They had given us bags for our wetsuit, but as I stood there soaking wet, with a very wet wetsuit, I just couldn’t figure out how to easily open the bag and shove it in.  So I ducked under the rack, and hurled my wetsuit over to my transition bag, which was laying against the fence.  Good enough.  Ducked back under the rack, and back to my bike.

“How much time are you going to waste, Rosanne?!  Seriously, time's a-ticking.  Quit running around trying to make transition pretty, just get ready and get on the bike!”

Luckily, the rest of transition was smooth.  Glasses, helmet, shoes, GO!  I ran up the row, and right as I rejoined the main  walkway—there’s Allen!!  We ran side by side and exited transition together, which was crazy but pretty cool!

Of course, after such a long transition, why on earth would they put the mount line close by—as we ran along the street a bit before finally, finally, FINALLY reaching the line.   Over the line, leg over the bike, push off and GO!

Bike – 2:45:27 (4th AG)

Like the jerk that I am, I totally ditched Allen without a second thought as soon as I got on the bike.  Oops.  As the course spun us through town I heard Colleen yell my name, and I managed a quick wave.  The first few blocks were crowded, as expected, and I started to try to both get my speed up and settle down, ready to see what this would be like.
The always-flattering just-out-of-transition photo, where everyone is trying to figure out what's going on.
As we headed out past the neighborhoods, it was good to finally get in aero.  Just go.  The course was crowded, as was very much expected.  I passed a lot, got passed some, had to keep re-passing some people… I just tried to hold it pretty steady.  I kept getting stuck behind big packs—frustrating.  It was less about being stuck and slowing down; I mostly didn’t like the fact that I was essentially forced to be in a drafting position.  I tried to stick to the sides, and ended up surging a few times just to get ahead, because it just felt better to not be stuck behind a group.

Always passing
Along the lake, things felt good.  It was fun watching people come back in, already.  It was a gorgeous day, and while there had been speculation that it may be chilly for the first part of the bike (coming out of the cold water, and before the sun really warmed anything up), it was never a problem—in fact, I dried off pretty quick and just felt comfy.  I was riding strong, mostly focused on getting around people and finding my rhythm.  My legs “hurt” a little, in a sore, why-are-we-being-used way, but it was nothing too alarming so just pushed through it.

Bennet Bay hill approached, and I was so glad I didn’t have to come back and run up it later.  And—look at that!  Just ahead, about halfway up the hill, I saw a little pink POC and blue chevron Betty kit.  Mac!  I kinda yelled, then spun up to her. After a brief “geez my legs hurt” whine (seriously, why were my legs feeling so sore?!), I pulled away a bit, and made it up the hill.  It was a good warm-up, before getting to the “real” part of the course, on 95.

Coming down, I saw a few Wattie teammates going the other way—that was cool!  I was happy to see them on course, and realized it was the first time I had really seen that kit “in action” in person.  Not sure why, but that thought kept sticking with me.  I was glad they looked good.  ;)  After a few more back-and-forths with a few other guys, the turnaround very suddenly appeared!  Big turn (and hey, no need to be back here for special needs later!  Woohoo!), and it was time to head back.

Just a short time later, I saw Mac making her way to the turnaround.  HIIIII MAC!  I started scanning everyone coming towards me, hoping to see Allen.  Eventually I saw him, briefly, but I’m not sure he saw me :)

Saw a couple more Watties, said hi, spun up the hills, and made my way back.  I started noticing my power numbers seemed a little low, but I was maintaining a good speed and figured it was fine.

Another good shot showing ALL THE PEOPLE (actually this was a less-crowded part!)
Coming back to the main streets, as more and more spectators started lining the sidewalks, I started wondering where my friends and family were.  Coming down past Calypso’s, of course, I head a big bunch of cheers, and I knew it was them :) The Mile 15 sign came shortly after, and I suddenly realized—hey!  Only 41 miles to go!  This is cake.
 
Just after the packed streets through downtown
 It was an odd feeling, actually.  A 20(ish) mile out and back, and the bike would be done—already!  Hey, this 70.3 distance is great!  I don’t have to see everything twice, like last year!  Haha!

The no-pass zone on the bridge loomed, and I braced myself.  In April when we came and rode the same spot, the wind was crazy and the bridge was really scary.  No such problems today!  Thankfully, the first small little hill was right afterwards, which meant things finally started to spread out and thin a little.

Things were mostly uneventful, and much sooner than expected, we hit the first climb.  Well, first we passed the spot where my chain came off for the first time, last year.  I cautiously laughed to myself as I rode by, and very tentatively shifted—no problem this year!  I haven’t had ANY issues, or even any reason to be worried, since updating the entire groupset earlier this year (KNOCK ON WOOD), but it was still a relief!

Spun up the first climb—but not quite as easy as last year.  This is about when I started realizing the difference between the two races.  Sure, I wasn’t going HARD, but I also wasn’t consciously trying to keep it easy-easy-easy feeling the entire time either.  Keep it steady, Rosanne!

I started leap-frogging a few guys, who I ended up leap-frogging all day.  Kind of nice to have a little “group” because it kept me grounded and focused.  I finally started having some of my EFS (which I just flat-out didn’t feel like I wanted or needed on the first little bike section), and was glad that the Gatorade I had opted to go with seemed to settle well with it.  While I train with Skratch, it just never seems to be quite “right” on race day, and I really did not want a repeat of the stomach issues I had on the run at Troika.


Downhill, finally! This was the shorter of the main descents.  It was relatively straight, and nothing technical about it.  Stay in aero, Kelley.  Come on.  Just STAY IN AERO, don’t you DARE get up on the bars, stay relaxed, you’re totally fine, whatever you do you will stay in aero, ok, just keep it calm and STAY IN AERO—” and suddenly I realized I was not in aero anymore.  UGH.  Apparently my body was not listening to my brain, and totally subconsciously decided I was just not comfortable.  Oh well, I made is most of the way before wimping out.  :-\  (I did pass one guy going downhill, who only had one arm.  MAJORLY IMPRESSED!  I would be soooo terrified, if I only had one arm to stay stable with!!)

Ok, Kelley, you’re doing good, time for the next climb.  This time, I knew it would be longer.  Some guy was mashing the pedals past me.  Go ahead, dude.  “Teamwork makes the dream work!” he said, as he passed…..wait, what?  I spent the next portion of the climb contemplating what that even meant, in the context of triathlon (and more specifically, in the context of passing someone uphill on the bike).  I’m 100% certain he was just spouting out generic motivational phrases, but it was still pretty entertaining, and kept me amused for a bit.

I did start noticing, again, my power numbers seemed low.  I saw it hit like, 86W at one point.  Uphill?!?  I wasn’t taking it THAT easy, was I?  On the other hand, it did tell me that I probably COULD go a little harder, so I kept an eye and would bump it up a little if the number looked too absurdly low.  Overall I was still making decent time so wasn’t too worried, but instead just used it as an indicator of whether or not I could afford to push it a little more.  Definitely still learning the most useful way to use that data.

The long descent, nope, sorry, no aero for this girl.  But that’s ok.  The next rollers hit, and it was time to GO!  More leap-frogging with the same guys.  I finally got low enough on my Gatorade that I took a new bottle from an aid station, to top it off.  I realized this was probably the first time I had Orange Gatorade since the ironman last year…but hey, this time it was nice and ice cold ;)
Orange gatorade in my speedfill straw can mean only one thing--an Ironman race
The  pros were coming back the opposite direction, and I saw Heather Jackson—wait, was she the first female?  I wasn’t sure, since I hadn’t been paying tooooo much attention, but it was still cool.  The fast Age Groupers were also starting to trickle by, and suddenly having a parade of bikes going the other way made things a lot more exciting.

Counting down miles, nothing was feeling awful and I was staying pretty consistent.  Times were slipping just a bit, but given the climbing I wasn’t surprised nor was I too worried.  The wind was picking up a bit, more blustering and annoying than anything, but…pretty sure it’s a slight headwind, so at least there will be a little push on the way back in!

The rest of the way out was, again, uneventful.  Just the way I like it.  Turnaround, wide circle as I demonstrate my Stereotypical Triathlete With No Bike Handle Skills talent, and time to head back!

…except that tailwind I was expecting, wait, no.  This is not a tailwind.  THIS is the headwind.  ARGGHHHH!  Honestly it wasn’t much, and I probably wouldn’t have even noticed it if I hadn’t been expecting and waiting for a tailwind, but it was a bit of an annoyance—not to mention, it was moving me around a lot more than before.  Still nothing crazy, still super comfortable, but kinda made you roll your eyes and groan.  Of course.  That’s what you get for expecting a tailwind, Rosanne.

Now, the line of athletes going the opposite direction was non-stop.  I scanned the field, finally saw Mac and we yelled and it made me smile.  Next up: find Allen.  I eventually saw him too, and got to yell at him as well.  I did have to force myself to stop looking, for a while, because I realized I was basically just watching the other lane, and not watching where I was going—and hitting some of the small downhills, plus the wind, I really should be paying attention.  Nevertheless, it was infinitely more interesting on the way back, watching everyone.



Passed the second spot I dropped a chain last year.  HAH!  Kept recognizing other little sections, and remembering what I was thinking and feeling a year ago, at the same point.  I was also acutely aware of how stoked I was that I was heading back to transition, and did not have to go do everything again ;)  (very different races, and very different mentalities, to be sure.  I just wanted to go fast!)

The course looks empty, but I swear it was packed!
The way back on 95 passed by more quickly; maybe it was the combination of watching everyone, counting down the miles, and looking forward to the run, but it sure passed by quick.  I didn’t really follow any food/liquid schedule, but tried to get as much EFS as I could when convenient (basically any time we were going up), and got down as much Gatorade as possible.  Had some plain water as well, and even dumped a few squirts of water on myself, just for old times’ sake. ;)  In the end, I only had about half my flask of EFS, and probably 1.5 bottles of Gatorade, plus my clif fruit stick which is always my turnaround/halfway-ish treat.  Next time, I need to try to get down a little more, since (spoiler alert) I got hungry – like, actually hungry – at the very end of the run.

I also had to go to the bathroom.  Actually, just like last year, I head to go to the bathroom since the time I got to the swim start.  But try as I might, I can’t go in my wetsuit, and I wasn’t about to stop on the bike (I feel like I literally wrote the same sentence last year).  So, as much as I kept drinking the Gatorade, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was really a good idea.  Worst comes to worst, I figured I could stop in transition.

With about 10 miles to go, at the start one a hill, I saw a very familiar kit standing dejectedly on the side of the road, bike upside down—another Wattie teammate!  Since I was now relatively close to the end, I knew I could proooobably afford to leave her with my saddle bag, if she needed anything.  But as I briefly slowed down and put a foot down, asking if she needed anything, she just said she just couldn’t fix it.  As much as I would love to help, it was still a race and I couldn’t afford to stop and try to help (no guarantee I could help, especially if she couldn’t), so I kept going..and felt pretty bad.  But, I kept my eyes out for bike support.  They had to be around somewhere, right?

And, wouldn’t you know it, about a mile up the road I saw another cyclist getting help from a motorcycle.  Since it was still a climb, it also meant I was moving relatively slowly, and had time to get a few words out while I went by—“are you bike support?? There’s a girl, just at the bottom of this hill!” I yelled, pointing back down to where she was.  The motorcyclist nodded, said “ok, got it!” and I was able to go on my way, feeling much better about leaving her, and hoping she would get help soon.  (I talked to her after the race, and I don’t think he ever made it to her or found her—she ended up walking her bike another 15 minutes, before trying to get her chain unstuck again, and finally got it sorted.  She still had a great race, aside from the 20minute delay, but bummer that my attempt at getting her help didn’t actually help!  Maybe she just got it sorted before the guy found her.)

Anyway, by the this time, it was really time to head back down into town.  This also means the scariest descent, for me.  In all honestly, there’s nothing scary about it, other than the fact that…it’s a descent.  There are a few small turns.  It’s long.  I’m a baby.  Etc.  It’s also pretty narrow, which makes it feel scarier, but I just sat up and tried to stay off the breaks and go as fast as possible.

Of course, near the bottom, I did hear a slight noise behind me, and I pulled over to the right even further.  “Thanks!” some guy said, as he blazed past me.  Then another, and another. And a couple more.  OOPS, was I holding everyone up!?  I wasn’t trying to take up too much space, but with the narrow section, you basically needed to be way over to the side in order to have space for two bikes.  I felt bad, but I wasn’t going TOOOOOOO slowly…right?!

By the time they all passed me, though, it flattened out, and everyone pulled up.  Meaning I rolled right up to them, and…had to pass them, again.  So, I guess I shouldn’t feel too bad, right??

Rolling and feeling good!
Last short little hill.  Last time over the bridge.  Last push through town.  I heard a yell (Crystal?  I think?) as I was eying my garmin, watching it creep closer and closer to 2:45:00.  My goal had been a 2:45 bike split, but knew that might be pushing it, based on how the climbs went.  As I rolled through town, it hit 2:44. I could see crowds up ahead, but nothing else.  As it hit 2:45, I finally saw the dismount.  27 second later, and I was off the bike, with a close enough time that it felt respectable enough.

(Final Pizza Thought Count: Only 1, which didn’t last long, because apparently thinking of pizza while sucking down vanilla EFS just doesn’t really work)

T2 – 2:38

As expected, the run in with the bike was in the grass and getting muddy.  And it was uneven, and long, and oh my gosh, where is the opening to actually get into transition?  Once again, we ran alllll the way past transition, before actually getting to the bike in arch.

Then another bumpy run down to my rack.  Rack is empty—score!  Easily racked my bike, threw off my bike shoes, and, yes, plopped down on the grass to deal with my shoes.  I did manage to unbuckle my helmet first, but as always, I focused on socks and shoes before taking my helmet off.

Grabbed the spare gu, shoved it in my jersey, jammed the hat on my head and ran off, taking way too long to get my race belt to buckle in the process.  Did not stop for the bathroom, because now, 3+ hours later, I was suddenly fine.  Go figure.

Run – 1:41:53 (3rd AG)

Following the instructions of the volunteers, I turned out into the run out chute, but missed where the run officially “started.”  It felt odd.  The start of the run was different than the full, and everything felt…off.  It was an awkward run out the park, and through the parking lot.  An awkward twist through the resort (oh wait that’s Colleen, quick Rosanne, look happy, Hi Colleen!), my feet were numb and nothing felt good and what is happening?

Trying to figure out my number and - more importantly - figure out how to run!  Where's the course!?
As I rounded a funny turn to get to the park, I heard the announcer calling in Andy Potts, winner of the race. Well that’s cool, he’s winning and I’m just starting the run!  Man…

I knew we had to get through the park somewhere.  Followed random cones and volunteers.  Where am I, is this an uphill or am I just out of shape?  Then suddenly, Monica appeared, so obviously I have to make a face and make sure she understands that literally less than 3 minutes into the run, all hope is already lost.  As I tried to scowl, all I got from her was a “no, no, don’t you shake your head at me!!”  Well, hmph.

A little further up the path in the park, still struggling and feeling like a million pounds, Shawn and Kyle appeared.  “Keep going, Patrick is just ahead, go catch up!”  Again, I shook my head and made a terrible face.  What is happening Rosanne?!  Ugh, and now even your coach saw me look like I'm dying already.

Finally, as we wound out of the park and spread out a bit, back to the “normal,” familiar part of the course, I forced myself to relax.  Settle down Rosanne.  You always feel bad.  You’re running a 6:30 pace, you are NOT running slow, SET. TLE. DOWN.  I tried to relax, tried to will myself to fall into a grove, and shake off the feeling that this was going to be an awful run.  Slowly, slowly, I eased up and feeling started returning to my toes.  First mile: 6:49/mi.  You better ease up there, Kelley.

Through the first aid station, and through the little neighborhood by the lake.  Finally, a straight, flat stretch of road.  I fiiiiiiiiinally started settling down, finally started to feel less awful.  I kept running.

The stark contrast to last years’ run was obvious.  Last year, every single house had people outside, and basically every other house had a sprinkler or hose or ice.  There were a couple sprinklers this year, but it was soooo much cooler it hardly seemed necessary.  There were still lots of spectators, it just felt different—they were spectating this time, not outside, worried, trying to keep everyone alive ;) (only a slight exaggeration).  This is not a bad thing at all!  Just a tangibly different feel to the race, which was interesting to notice right off the bat.

I also noticed that my left foot hurt, on the inside, as a blister started forming.  What is with the Claytons, and getting blisters on the inside of my left foot??  This annoyed me the entire time, although by the second loop I think I was just used to it and managed to tune it out.

Still feeling slightly off, I took out my gu.  It wasn’t that I felt sluggish, and needing fuel, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to try.  I nursed that gel for about 2 miles, but I managed to get it all down—and I actually do think it helped!

The “happy fun corner” was still there, the aid stations were the same, and there was still plenty to pay attention to!  There was a constant stream of athletes coming the other direction – slower male pros, and fast age groupers, mostly.  As I ran along the long stretch along Mullan, I saw a Heather running towards me, complete with a bike escort!  “YEAH, Heather!”  She gave me a HUGE smile, and I realized I hadn’t seen any other bike escorts (or females).  She was in the lead, heading back with only a couple miles to go, and there was NO ONE in sight behind her.  It was another few minutes before I saw the next female pro, so it was super cool to see her and know she had the win in the bag!

As I made my way onto Lake Drive, and looked up the hill to the resort, it hit me that I was actually remarkably close to the turn around.  Instead of another looooong stretch along the lake, and then up and over Bennet Bay hill, etc etc etc…it was almost time to turn around!  This was so weird to me, and it struck me how much harder the full IM was.  I mean, obviously it’s harder, I never thought that it wasn’t, but it was at that moment, on the run, that the difference really made itself clear.  As I ran up the hill, I saw Francis (huge high five!) and Sam.  I had already been getting high fives and cheers from other Wattie teammates, and honestly each time I saw someone I knew, it was just better and better.
Coming to life, just a bit
Up the hill.  Down the hill.  Turn around!  As I headed back up, I turned my attention on everyone coming back towards me.  I knew Mac was back there, probably soon, plus it was just so much more interesting!  I scanned everyone, said hi to a few more people.  Looked for another gu at the aid stations, since I figured it might not hurt to try forcing down another for the second half, but they didn’t have the right kind.  Darn.  Tried to take advantage of the downhill, and bump up my speed.  Turning the corner again, to head back to the neighborhoods, I saw the best neon hat and Betty kit, and had to yell at Mac to get her attention.  Biggest cheers!  YES!  That perked me right up, and I put my head down to head back to the park.

I saw Allen, who was not looking super thrilled at this point.  Yelling for him helped me a bit, but it didn’t seem to help him.  Whoops.  Head up, Allen!  Chest out, lift those feet!

The whole first lap, I felt..bleh.  I just couldn’t get into it.  I was happy seeing everyone, I was focusing on other things, but the run just didn’t feel right.  Nothing felt bad, but nothing felt good, either.  I was keep my pace up alright – a little slower than I had wanted, but honestly it wasn’t awful.  So what was wrong?

Through the park, and suddenly inundated by cheers.  Laurie and the Project 13 group were there and cheering.  Spectators everywhere!  And Monica, again!  I MUST TELL HER ABOUT MY BLISTER!  I found the “to second loop” sign (darn, why can’t I be headed to the finish), and was impressed by the nice easy path to the second loop.  The race took advantage of an over/underpass, so there was no confusing crossing, and instead it flowed really well.  Joined up with the original course again, and started running through people just starting their first lap; the run through the park still felt weird (not sure why), but this time, I knew what to expect and just told myself to get through it.

OK fine, let's get this park part over with again!
Suddenly, Monica was by the side of the course again.  She told me to hurry up, because obviously she has managed to get there sooner than me, and also in sandals!  Yeah yeah yeah.  More faces (I’m the best at faces; I should stop), but as I ran off, she yelled after me “no, but really, you look great!”  “YOU LOOK GREAT TOO!” I yelled over my shoulder.  ;)

Waved to Laurie again, and headed back out to the streets again.  Twisted through the neighborhoods.  Not sure where my head was, but time seemed to pass, and while my pace was slowing and creeping up to the 7:50s, it still hadn’t hit 8.  So far, it was turning out to be better run than Troika, just as long as I could hold on…!

Running along Mullan again, I saw a familiar face on a bike!  Kyle was there, and as soon as he saw me, he turned to slowly ride alongside me.  “Hey, Allen is ahead, just gave him a pep talk and he’s looking better now… How are you feeling?”  I waved my hand and shrugged, and told him I wasn’t feeling particularly bad but wasn’t feeling particularly good, either.  “Well, you look good.  You’re running great....”  I could tell he was feeling me out, trying to gauge how I really felt.  We chatted a bit (well, he chatted and I listened), as he told me that Allen and Mac had gotten out of the swim together, and I was only about a minute behind.  So my fast swim time was true!  (Fast for me, that is)  As I turned to head out to the turnaround again, I yelled at him about my blister (seriously I just needed to tell everyone), and he told me to just keep running strong.

So, run I did.  I was still slowing a bit, but made it to the turnaround and headed back.  I was on my way back, and just a little over 3 miles to go!  That’s it!  You’re going to finish this thing, Rosanne!  The run isn’t killing you!  Still wasn’t quite as quick or effortless as I had hoped, finally hit a mile over 8min, but honestly it was better than Troika, so it was already a win.  Just get to the end.

The last downhill from the resort was noticeably harder, though.  I was running downhill, really TRYING to push it and use the free speed, just barely staying under an 8 minute mile.  There were a couple of girls behind me, just chatting, and it was driving me crazy that I couldn’t get away from them—I was trying to run faster, and they were still nonchalantly chatting right behind me!  I also suddenly realized I was hungry.  Like, really hungry.  Why didn’t I eat more on the bike?  Or bring another gu?!  I remembered there were oranges at the aid stations, and promised myself I would grab some next time.  That should get me to the end, right?  At the turn into the neighborhoods, I saw Mac gain, who yelled at me to go faster :) I’m trying, I’m trying!!

And as I rounded the corner, I saw Kyle again, who must have just finished talking to Mac.  I yelled to get his attention, and he suddenly circled back to ride next to me again.  This time, though, he was a lot more serious.

“Ok, so..listen.  You were 4th off the bike.  You’re running strong.  You need to drop the hammer, now.” I was surprised.  I honestly hadn’t given my placement a second thought while on the run.  But I nodded, knew what he was getting at, and tried to pick it up.  Fast feet, loose arms, you better kick this into high gear, Rosanne!  Meanwhile, Kyle was still talking, next to me.  “Yup, that’s it, keep swinging your arms.  I can tell you still have something left in you, so use it.  Go harder now, even if you can’t make it all the way, you just need to make it to the park; you’ll get more energy as soon as you hit those crowds.  Just go hard to the park and put some time in the bank now.  You’re running great, it’s been a great race for you and you’ll be leaving some hardware here soon, just keep it up.  Just ramp it up, slowly….”

Trying to ramp it up.  I vaguely remember Kyle talking and what he was saying...
And one more cool photo from this stretch, as I tried to kick it up!  I didn't even realize I ran past Ed, behind me, until I saw this.  Oops!!

I glanced down, and realized I had cranked it up a bit TOO much.  6:50 was probably not sustainable.  But it was in my head now.  I couldn’t coast in to the finish, like I had basically accepted.  I also couldn’t stop and get my oranges.  HMPH!  As we got to the end of the street, right at the turn, Shawn was waiting.  Kyle yelled up ahead, letting him know I was on the way, and as I ran by him, he yelled after me, “You got anything left to give? Yeah, you better be using it up!” Thanks, coach…  ;)

But now I knew both my friend (who can read me while racing like the back of his hand) and my coach (who literally knows every bit of fitness data about me) were telling me to kick it up.  And if those two thought I could, well then I darn well better do it.

I wish I could say I really ramped it up, but I didn’t.  I sped up a little, and got it back to sub-8s, so really I just kicked it back to where I had been running previously.  But, it was enough.  It made me work, it kept me engaged.  At the last aid station, Kyle and Shawn were there again.  They must have ridden over to meet me.  I was really glad I was still focused and running strong, because they looked (and sounded) very pleased to see me still putting in an effort :) I ignored everything around me (including Allen, who apparently was going through the aid station at the same time, but I totally missed him, as well as the giant T-Rex who was dancing around).  Why are there so many gradual uphills to this finish!?

Last couple turns down the street.  Last little uphill, seriously this is the rudest half a block uphill EVER, and last time coming into the park.  Monica was there at the park, clapping and yelling at me, “yes, you look great, you’re top 5, I’m pretty sure you’re third!!” (to which I huffed and puffed “ugh we’ll see”)  Emily was there too, smiling and yelling and telling me I was looking strong at the end.  Suddenly, that turn off to the finish line felt sooooo far away, and I really, REALLY wanted to not be running anymore. Thankfully, Kyle had been right, though—I made it to the park, and all the spectators and energy of the area was enough to carry me, when I realllllly just wanted to stop.

Got to the split.  A volunteer was standing there, indicating which side to go to.  I stayed very, VERY far to the left, so that there was no mistake I was going to run another lap.  He happily pointed me to the finish, and the spectators all cheered for me, as I turned up and over to head to Sherman.

I knew the run down Sherman would be shorter than the full, but it still felt so long!  With the temperature only in the 80s, it was FILLED with even more people and the magical view of the finish line at the end of the road was in front of me.  Spectators spilled past the red Ironman carpet and fences, creating a giant funnel.  Seriously, there is nothing better than that Coeur d’Alene finish line :)

Love the energy!
As awesome as it was, though, I really seriously wanted to be done running.  I saw my parents, was SO happy to see them, waved and ran, and into the chute.  I don’t think I’ve ever run through a finish chute wanting it to be over soooo badly, but it was like a slow motion “one more step, come on, there’s the finish, keep going, almost there, just a few more….”

Longest finish line, and I am definitely NOT smiling on the inside
I did some awkward thing with my arms, and happily, so happily, crossed that finish line.  :)

(Final Dumped Calypso’s Coffees Count + Kicks from Monica: 0, but I did make her run across the park in sandals, so I call that a win :P)
DONE.
Total Time: 5:11:33

 So, what else to say about this race?

It was technically about 3 minutes slower than my 70.3 PR... but that was from Troika, and I'm pretty sure that swim was short (Garmin measured 1870 yards; at CDA, it measured the full distance--actually a bit over, but we know I don't swim straight :) ).  Troika also had a much smaller, and much more efficient transition (2 minutes for each), whereas CDA was WAYY longer.  So, all things told, I think the times were pretty comparable, and CDA may have been a bit "better."
We all made it!
Aside from straight time, though, CDA was a much better race for me.  I honestly can't pick out a single thing I needed to do better, or necessarily improve upon.  I felt good.  Ok, I didn't feel great, and I kind of hated it (as always) during the run, but deep down I know that it didn't feel that bad.  I never hit the wall, I never blew up, I actually felt a bit better the more I ran (even if I slowed a little)...and when I slowed down, it wasn't THAT much.  In that sense, it was a much better race.  It played out well, I executed it the way I was supposed to.  I just need to do it again, but faster.  Literally, just be faster.  At everything.  And that's a good place to be!  I'm happy to have had a solid race at this distance.  I know I just wrote five million paragraphs, but in summary, it was actually a pretty "boring" race, which I guess is a pretty good thing!
Allen is obviously thrilled to be done with his first 70.3 (and 2nd triathlon ever)
3rd AG isn't too shabby either, and I think I can finally feel pretty redeemed and justified in going to Australia.  Not that I didn't before, but it just felt good to feel that maybe I do belong in the mix and it wasn't a huge fluke after all.  I may not be at the top, those girls are CRAZY fast and I have so much respect for them..but I can hang alright.  :)


What's next?  We'll see.  I hear there's a 70.3 in Whistler in a couple weeks............  ;)

2 comments:

  1. Finally got caught up and read all of this year's blog posts! Your're such an entertaining and descriptive writer. And a champion! So proud of you.

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  2. You are awesome, Rosanne. Big kudos on your stellar day! And, now I wanna race at CdA again just so I can experience the real Sherman. I feel like we were ripped off last year! :)

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