Monday, May 28, 2012

Buffalo Trails Triathlon Race Report...my luckiest race yet

My 28, 2012.                                                     I set my alarm for 4:30 AM race morning, but since I went to bed a little after 9 the night before, my body woke up a little before 4 AM.  I laid there and thought about the race until my alarm finally went off.  I had packed most everything in the car the night before the race to minimize stress on race morning, but the forty-five minutes that I'd given myself to eat, finish last minute race packing (filling water bottles with  water + heed + sustained energy) and morning bathroom routine went by really fast. 

Tyler (my husband and amazing supporter) and I left the driveway at 5:15 AM, right on time.  We drove up Hwy 68 all the way to Maysville, Kentucky. It was a nice, straight, country route, and I was grateful that Tyler decided to come with me (I left it up to him) to support me (including driving me, so I could concentrate on thinking about the race rather than the road). 

We arrived to the race site around 6:45 AM, and I went through the pre-triathlon race routine: packet pickup, body marking, and transition set up.  This was my 6th triathlon race ever, and first tri race in over 10 months, so transition set up is still a bit stressful for me.  The race started with the swim a half mile upstream from where the transition area was, so a cute trolley picked up racers and transported us to the swim start.  I tried to get on the first two trolley trips, but somehow timed both so that the trolley was full by the time I tried to get on.  The third  and final trolley trip came back around and  boarded the rest of us.  I met a few athletes while waiting for the trolley, and was able to ask one of them who had done this race before 'at what mile this Big Hiney Hill the race director had warned us about via email was located along the course'.  He answered my question, and gave me some other helpful tips about the bike course.

The trolley dropped us off at the top of a hill with a gravel road as our path to the river (swim start).  Those who had done this race before knew to wear sandals, but those of us who had not walked cautiously and whined a lot about the gravel on our sensitive feet as we made our way to the start.  Shortly after we reached the rest of the athletes along the shore of the Ohio River, the race director announced that the race would be delayed 30 minutes because there was fog on the river, and the barge that we were jumping off of for the start of the race could not travel down river until the fog cleared.  It was already 71 degrees and humid at this point, so of course my immediate thought was 'this is going to make it even hotter by the end of the race', and although I think my body does not deal with heat as well as many other athletes, I reminded myself  that 'this will make it hotter for everyone, not just me, so deal with it.'

   

A few minutes before 8:30, the barge arrived, and I walked up the ramp and positioned myself in the first row to enter the water.  The National Anthem was sung, the Cannon was shot, and we were off! My goggles fogged up the minute I entered the water, so all I could see during the swim was colors and shapes.  Luckily, the guide buoys were big and bright red, and the athletes swim caps were bright orange, so I knew to just follow red and orange. The swim was downstream, and while the current wasn't as fast an in previous years of this race from what I've heard, there was a bit of a current to help us along.  The last 200 meters of the swim, however, were unexpected: I started feeling pushed around a lot (to the side, and backwards).  I had swam in the ocean and in lakes before but had never swam in a river, so I thought maybe this was just some strange phenomenon about swimming in a river as you get closer to the shore.  I found out from Tyler after the race, that a barge went by as we were swimming, and caused a huge wake (thus the strange resistance and tossing around I felt towards the end of the swim), which made all the spectators say "ooooh that sucks for them!"  I exited the water, knowing I wasn't the first person to exit the water, but I felt there weren't too many ahead of me. Turns out I was the first female to exit the water! I ran up a couple flights of stairs, turned left, and was in the transition area.  I did my transition (not at lightning speed) and took off on the bike. 
I knew the Big HIney Hill was around mile 8, so my plan was to stay 'comfortably strong' before I got to the hill.  The first 8 miles of the course were definitely manageable, with some rolling hills, so I was averaging 20.7 MPH for the first 8 miles.  Then came Big Hiney Hill.  This hill was nearly a mile long, and averaged 7.8% grade (which sucks).  I struggled up that hill, got passed by several men (one of whom I actually thought was a woman) and when I crested Big Hiney, my new average speed (over the last 9 miles) was reduced to 16.8 MPH (nearly 4 miles per hour!) My legs felt shot, but after that hill we were rewarded with some nice downhill sections.  I kept peddling hard as I went down the hills, but the relief I did get felt great.  I watched my average speed creep up over the remainder of the 25 mile bike ride.  At a left hand turn at the bottom of a hill on mile 15, a police officer at the intersection of this turn yelled to me " Are you the last one?"  I yelled back "I hope not!"  I pondered that question from the police officer over the next several miles.  I wondered if he A) really just wanted to go home and was hoping the race was over, and really thought I could be the last one, or B) was joking (so not funny, dude).  I believe that police officer needs some sort of training in 'athletic psychology' if he's going to work another race, but at least his question gave me something the think about over the next couple miles.  Around mile 16, I discovered that my bike would not go into the big gear anymore, which was unfortunate because there were some good long downhill stretches that last 9 miles that I just had to coast down (which is not my style).  As I biked into transition, I saw Tyler and another friend who was there supporting her husband, and that made me smile. 

I transitioned and took off on the run.  It was hot out, but I was keeping a pace I was relatively comfortable (and happy) with.  The first 1.5 miles of the run was on road, with no shade.  I passed a couple men (one of whom I thought was a female when he passed me on the bike, so that was a nice 'pick me up' to realize it was actually a man), and I was passed by one female who was running really fast.  At the 1.5 mile mark, we approached a huge set of stairs and were directed up them.  I ran up the first 3 stairs, and then decided to walk (it was hot, and the stairs were killing my calf's).  I got to the top of the stairs and was welcomed by some kids who were handing out ice cold towelettes to squeeze on ourselves.  It felt amazing!  I proceeded with the remainder of the run: 1.5 more miles on the grass, on a natural flood plain.  I am really clumsy and slow at running on grass, so I was less than thrilled to have to run on grass, with no shade for the remainder of the triathlon.  The width of space we had to run on was roughly four feet, with steep declines on each side.  I had visions of tripping on the grass and rolling down one of the hills.  Luckily, I only had a few 'ankle give outs' , but did not trip, and kept chugging along to the finish.

I crossed the finish line, not knowing what my finish time was, or what my place was, but somehow I felt content with my overall performance.  The results were posted about a half hour after I finished, and I saw that I was the 2nd place female overall ! I let out a little yelp and jumped up and down a few times.
2nd Place Overall Female Plaque, and prize money in the envelopes for: 2nd Place; Fastest swim split; and Fastest bike split.

I say this was my luckiest race yet because there are so many factors that contribute into how well one places in a race: there's all the internal factors that make up the individual athletes performance (race preparation/ training; adverse incidents, or lack thereof, on race day; how one handles various weather conditions; one's mental toughness; etc) and then there is the big external factor: who shows up on race day.  Looking back at the previous two years race results from this race, I noticed that with the time I did this year, I would have placed 1st in 2011, however, I would have placed 7th in 2010 (perhaps a little higher up, as the current in the river was much faster that year, but I certainly wouldn't have been top 3 overall)!  If you have the desire to receive an age group or overall award, then train and prepare to the best of your ability.  You can't control who shows up on race day, but if you've done the best you can do to get ready for race day, you just may eventually get lucky!

What I learned:

Get some anti-fog for my goggles.  Swimming in open water and not being able to see is frustrating.  

Get a bike tune-up before my first tri of the season, or any super important race, for that matter.  It doesn't make much sense to train your butt off and to prepare in every single other way possible, and Not make sure your equipment is in tune.  My bike time could have been faster if my bike was working properly, which could have won me the race (you never know).   

Either pony up the money for some tri running shoes, or take the 10 seconds to put socks on before the run during transition.  I earned some gnarly blisters on the short 5K run! 

I am lucky to have Tyler in my life.  He chooses to get up early, drive me to races, pump my bike tires, etc. on race morning; then takes pictures, cheers, and waits patiently for me to pass by him just a few times during a 2 hour race.  Triathlon isn't the best 'spectator sport', yet he comes to support me anyway.  He never complains that I spend hours away from home training, while he's doing side-jobs or working on our house.  He doesn't have the same innate competitive desire and drive I do, but he understands why I do what I do. 


Monday, May 21, 2012

Putting Things in Perspective

The timing of my friend Tom’s blog post the other week couldn’t have been better.  Tom wrote a post entitled “Racing without Competing” and after the week of training I had, I really needed to be reminded of a few things. 
It is now less than one week until my first triathlon of the 2012 season.  This will be the earliest in the season I have participated in a triathlon, and I’m now realizing why I never competed any earlier than mid June in my 2 previous triathlon seasons: preparedness.  It’s hard for me to get much (or any, as the case has been thus far in my still relatively novice bike life) outdoor biking in over the winter, due to the cold and/ or lack of day light hours after I get home from work. I thought I did a pretty good job this past winter of riding my trainer and doing spin classes at the gym, but it’s just not the same as riding on road.  Running: I kept that up decently over the winter, but spent more time on the treadmill than I did on roads.  And swimming, well, I swam once over the winter and that was in November!  I love swimming outdoors, and it is hard for me to get motivated to swim indoors. 

With the realization that it is ‘offically tri season’, I decided to get my butt in gear a couple weeks ago.  While I know this re-found work ethic will probably not benefit my upcoming race, at least I’ve finally accepted the fact that I’ve been ‘lazy’ for too long, and it’s time to train like a triathlete for the next several months!    My first week of ‘training like a triathlete, version 2012’ hit me hard (physically and mentally). 
Sunday: rode my commuter bike 5 miles to Transy,  Swam 2500 yards, rode 5 miles home. 
              I think I was tired from my BRICK workout (30 minute trainer ride + 4 mile run at 8:07 pace) the day before, and the culmination of my entire week of workouts before (which included one 24 hour period of: running intervals in the morning, bike hill repeats that afternoon, and a run the following morning). 
Monday:  Running Intervals~ which left my quads sore for the following four days.
            2 super fast people joined us for Monday morning intervals that week.  I am a sprinter by nature, so I am not use to being the one doing the 'chasing' during interval runs. They really pushed me, which was great, but it was a bit mentally tough on me to get beat so badly by another female, at what I consider my 'best event'. 

Tuesday: BRICK Workout: 30 minutes on the bike trainer + 2 mile run at 7:45 pace.

Wednesday: Bike Time Trial:  6.8 mile warm up + 12.75 mile Time Trial.  = 19.5 mile ride.

            We line up slowest to fastest for these Time Trials.  A very strong/ athletic female was next behind me.  I knew I had a 30 second head start on her, but figured she would pass me at some point during the race.. That 'some point' came at MILE 3!! Holy Moly it scared the bejesus out of me when she passed me, because I was expecting 'some point' to be closer to mile 10.  My immediate reaction was a playful 'Boooooooo', but I remembered my manners a said "Good job girl, you are awesome." I was disappointed in myself though. 

Thursday:  6 mile ' tempo' run at 8:36 pace (that's a slow 6 mile tempo run for me)
            
           Splits:  8:01; 8:08; 8:49; 9:14; 8:58; 8:23.  I started off fine, but after a couple miles my legs felt so heavy and tired that I couldn't even more them fast enough to be breathing hard. 

Friday: 4.5 mile run at 7:51 pace, + 2.7 mile run at 8:35 pace (with 3 beer stops... helping my friend 'train' for a Tap N Run)

Here's why I needed to be reminded that week, that I am NOT a professional athlete, and the ONLY person I'm REALLY 'competing against' is myself: 
Judging on how sore my quads were from Monday's interval run, it is very likely that I ran faster than I ever have that morning, but was I happy about that, No: because I got my butt kicked by another female.
At the Bike Time Trial on Wednesday, I had my fastest time/ pace on that course, ever, but was I happy?  No: because I got my butt kicked by another female. 

On Thursday, I got left in the dust by the running group I started out with, and near the end of the run, when one of the very sweet females in the group said to me "Looking good Jenn!" I replied "Thanks for lying to my face!" I was being sarcastic (kind of) but I shouldn't have responded that way.  In reality, I SHOULD have considered a 6 mile run at 8:36 pace on very tired legs a good run, but I didn't ~ because I was the slowest runner in that group that morning.  I even knew that none of them had done the Bike Time Trial the night before and had legs as tired as mine, but I didn't give myself that credit. 



I need to make a more conscious effort to think about how far I've come, and not worry about the world (athletes) around me so much.  I need to put things in perspective more often than I do: 

Like the fact that I weigh 15 pounds less than I did 4 years ago before I started running;

Like the fact that 3 years ago, I was thrilled to do a 6 mile training run at 9 minute pace (on fresh legs);

Like the fact that I am improving on the bike, and if I keep working hard and not getting frustrated, I have so much more room to improve!

And, last but not least: the fact that I AM a good athlete.. because what defines 'good' anyway?  Anyone who dedicates themselves, their time, their energy, their life to exercising, and being healthy is a 'good athlete'  in comparison to the majority of the population.  Like my parents always told me growing up: "There will always be someone faster than you, and there will always be someone slower than you." They had to tell me that a lot, because I have had this problem of 'not being able to put things in perspective/ being too hard on myself' my entire life!


We live and we learn.  Athletes get the opportunity to learn a lot about themselves: as an athlete, and a person.  I'm still living (and Thank God, exercising) therefore, I'm still learning. 

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Cutting Corners ~or is it~ Running the Tangents

When I decided to start this blog about exercise and the many mental facets that go along with exercise, I made a list of topics I wanted to write about to get me started.  It is funny how, on a few occasions already, some of the topics I jotted down have come up in conversation with my training buddies.  When that happens, I just go ahead and make that my next blog entry, because the topic is fresh on my mind, and is obviously of interest to my training buddies, and I hope others reading my blog.

Several of my running buddies recently competed in the Derby Mini and/ or the Flying Pig Half Marathon, so ‘race strategy’ was a natural topic of conversation during our recent runs  Two of my running buddies were recapping their recent Derby Mini race, and each stated their time and the distance their GPS watch said they ran.  One runners GPS said she ran 12.9 miles between the start and finish lines, and the other’s GPS said she ran 13.4 miles from line to line.  Some of that difference could be accounted for by different GPS’s accuracy, but not half a mile!  The only other explanations are: the differing amounts the two runners weaved in and out of people on a crowded course, and the way each runner took each and every turn of the course. 

When a race course is certified by the RRCA or USATF, it is measured by the shortest route a person can run and remain on the course legally.  Some running races (especially out-and-back style races) have cones set up in the middle of the road, so you are not able to run freely about the road.  During all triathlon races, and some running races, it is against the rules to cross a double yellow line.   Some races, however, you are given free reign of the road, and are therefore allowed to take each and every turn however you choose.  If you want to run your race 'smart', you'll run the tangents. 

What ' running the tangents' means is: rather than following the curve of a road or your race course, you should aim yourself directly for the next curve that comes into sight and to only run along the curve when you cannot see that next curve until after you’ve gone around the current one.

Check out the picture below:  the person following the orange line is running along the left side of the road. During training, this is appropriate and safe as it will help them avoid getting hit by a car. The person running the red line, however, is running the tangents to the curve. The red line runner will cover the same distance (by road) in less time because he/she won’t have to travel as far (in actual distance).

By looking at this picture, you may notice that the red line isn’t that much shorter than the orange line, but over the full distance of a race, especially one with a lot of turns and curves, it can really add up.  You can shave seconds off of a shorter race or shave minutes off in a longer race.

Some racers may consider 'running the tangents' as 'cutting corners' but, in truth, it is fair to assume that the race distance is measured out assuming racers will 'run the tangents.'  I wanted to include this topic as a blog post because there are many factors that affect a race day performance, and this is just one of them.  We all know how one seemingly unexplainable bad race can mentally mess you up in your future races.  If you've ever been beat by a comparable athlete during a half marathon or marathon, and feel as though you had a great race, you might want to ask them next time how far their GPS said they ran.  Maybe they have figured out how to run the tangents better than you and can give you some tips.  Don't be too hard on your race performance when there could be an easily controllable factor that explains why you might not have placed as high as you were hoping for.