Oxygen is overrated: Ironman Boulder Race Report

I forgot how fun it was to travel for races. Since we've been living in Texas, we have been doing a lot of local racing. Local races are great, and convenient and more cost effective, but you miss a little something from the experience. Traveling to a race destination feels oddly like a vacation - even though you have this huge event coming up. But, compared with the craziness of every day life, Ironman is a luxurious vacation.

Jeff and I had never been to Boulder, and we were lucky enough to have so many friends that had recently relocated to the Boulder or Denver area, which made the trip even more special. Our friend Stacey from Chicago and her boyfriend were gracious enough to open up their home for us to crash in, and they were the most gracious hosts we could ask for.

We decided to drive to boulder to eliminate the plane ticket/bike transport/car rental costs (note- its is very unlikely to get through Ironman Boulder without renting a car if you are coming from out of town. the reservoir and the high school, the two primary locations where race activity is happening, arnt that close to each other). The drive really wasn't that bad, and allowed us to have much more control over comfort and food choices.

We rolled into Boulder Thursday afternoon, got myself checked in then head over to the reservoir for the local "Splash and Stride" (I did the 750 meter swim and 5 k run) mainly to get some practive in my wetsuit, which i also don't get to use very often in texas, and see how I wouild adjust to the altitude. Honestly, i felt great. I was a little tired, and it was a little harder to breathe ( and, i took it really easy), but i figured we had just rolled into town, and I would be fine by Sunday.

                                    Here i am bringing it into the finish of the very serious splash and stride 

So the next few days involved seeing friends, prepping for race day etc. Boulder is beautiful - the town is nestled among the mountains so even the most mundane errands involved incredible views. hard not to love it. We had a minor pre race snafoo that may or may not have played a little bit into race day i wont get into details right now, but what was supposed to be an easy shake out ride a couple days before race day turned into a climb up one of the longest hills in boulder, and a panic attack about how to get down. I spent a few days dealing with unexpected soreness-not ideal. but really, this wasn't a major factor in how the day went.

So race day (finally- i know, these posts are long): We dropped of special needs by the high school, and then hopped on the shuttle to the reservoir where the swim would start.  I had just enough time to get into transition, put my nutrition on the bike, pump up my tires, and wiggle into my wetsuit.

cute right??

IM Boulder starts at 6:20 for a rolling start, with the goal of getting everyone in the water by 6:50. There was no pro field this year, which is why we were able to start earlier. the swim is a counter clockwise swim in the reservoir. I lined up in the 1:00-1:15 swim - my Ironman swims are usually in the 1:06-1:10 range depending on the body of water, weather or not the race is wetsuit legal and how focused im able to stay during the swim ( I mean, really, this is the real issue, its so hard to stay focused. I have swim related attention deficit. IS THIS OVER YET WHY IS THIS SO LONG) but either way I was fairly confident that was the right group for me to be in.

I was told that swimming at altitude would be a little tricky. The air is thin, your body is already trying to compensate for the reduced oxygen, and its super easy to hyperventilate/panic during the swim. I was told to take it easy the first few hundred meters, and to breathe a lot to work through this. I felt pretty good the entire swim, honestly. no panic, no gasping for air. I am not sure i felt like i was having the best swim of my life, but i felt pretty steady. the water was open until the first buoy, which is really the nice thing about the rolling start. But inevitably, at the first left hand turn you run into a bit of a bottle neck with weaker swimmers seeding themselves in a faster group to go off earlier. So the second section of the swim had a bit more contact. I wasnt really swimming straight, but was able to catch it in time to correct it. No biggie.

I came out of the water in 1:11, which for a wetsuit swim is kinda MEH for me. Even though i felt fine swimming, the minute i exited the water, i felt like i had been hit by a dump truck. EVERYTHING was tired, and i was breathing super heavy. like gasping. Which was awesome, because transitions at this race are long and involve inclines awesome.

I wasnt totally happy with how i executed T1, but it was still smooth and fast, so whatever. As i got on the bike though, i realized that I didnt feel great. legs were sluggish and sore, and i felt like i couldnt fill my lungs with air. But, something ive learned through ironman training and racing is just because you dont feel good right now, doesnt mean you cant turn it around. you cant panic, you have to work through it. So, i Just kept riding- I mean what do you do? I kept an eye on my power, and i was doing ok staying within the range that coach had given.

A few notes about the bike course and ride
1) the worst hill is right out of T1 ( well within the first 10 miles or so). You only do it once. No biggy.
2) Descents are long and fun, but there arnt nearly enough of them.
3) the entire course feels like its a false flat. this is SUPER FRUSTRATING. sections that look flat are slow.  and I mean SLOOW. even if you look at your power and realize what is going on, its hard to deal with at that mentally
4) while the day wasnt overly windy, there WAS wind, and it was impossible to tell where it was coming from
5) My one negative about the race, and specifically the bike course, is the fact that locals felt the need to ride the course the day of the race. like on mountain bikes. slowly. You live in boulder COLORADO. this cannot possibly be the only bike route available to you. I found it to be dangerous and rude. many sections are the ride are coned off, but very narrow, making passing athletes precarious at best.

*Note: we were all saddened to hear of the passing the young lady that was struck by a car on the bike course and later passed away from her injuries. Cycling can be scary and dangerous and this is everyones worst nightmare. My thoughts and prayers to her family and loved ones.

I didnt feel great, but at least i looked good. 

During the bike, I started to feel progressively fatigued, dizzy and light headed. I couldnt really even see straight in front of me. My initial reaction was to assume that I was bonking. Racing at high altitude 1) requires more hydration. I was ON TOP of hydration. 2) requires higher carbohydrate consumption. So, i had packed extra calories, just in case, and thought that consuming them would help.

I kind of quickly realized that i wasnt bonking, but was instead experiencing some altitude related symptoms. going up and down the climbs was making me dizzy and i was trying really hard to focus on the road in front of me. looking around wasnt helping my light headedness. Breathing was becoming an issue too My allergies were acting up and I spent most of the ride taking in kind of shallow breaths. oh boy. this is gonna be run.

I made it through the ride. 5:46 or something. Meh. fine. whatever. about what I would expect. Ive made huge strides on the bike recently, but still not quite where i would like to be.

T2: if you plan on doing this race, let me warn you about t2: You run about a quarter of a mile with your bike to the high school track where the volunteers are waiting to take it from you. then you grab your bag, run down the track, UP SOME STAIRS, then off to the changing tents. Um yea ok, climbing stairs was not ideal in my current situation lol. but as usual, the volunteers were amazing. they helped me get dressed and on my way.

Run: I was worried about how this was going to go coming of the bike. I managed to hold together a decent pace for the first few miles (the first bit of the run is down hill, so its easy to let the pace get away from you. I kept it easy ). but breathing was becoming more and more difficult. my legs felt fine. Honestly I dont think that there was anything about the run specifically that was making my breathing difficult, but I think i got a little panicky coming off the bike because of my breathing issues, and it really carried into my run. somewhere around mile 7 i saw Jeff and our friends and stopped on the side of the road and basically hyperventilated. the volunteer told me to put my arms above my head and they put ice on my back to try and cool me off and get my breathing under control. I was NOT about to stop this race. I told jeff if I had to walk the whole thing, i would, so he should get himself ready for a long day.

After a few minutes on the side of the path, i started walking. i decided to try and jog from aid station to aid station, then walk the aid stations. That MOSTLY worked. eventually, after a few aid stations of cola, ice, and oranges, i started to come around. I can run. I can do this.

The last half of the marathon was a completely different race for me than the first half. Im not sure what changed, but I managed to run people down. As a side note, im not sure ive seen so many people walk during an IM before. or start walking that early. i take some comfort in the fact that i was not the only person struggling. A few notes about the run
1) dont go out too hard, its down hill for a couple miles.  you arnt actually that fast. sorry.
2) the run is mostly shaded, but the sun is also killer at altitude. cover up
3) I wish the run course was a LITTLE more spectator friendly. some desolate areas.
4) the run is on a path next to  river that people go tubing on. so theres a lot of traffic on the path that isnt race related. its a little frustrating. I know people have to live their lives, but its not a wide path to begin with. trying to navigate around teenagers carrying inflatable tubes isnt exactly what you want to be dealing with.

I crossed the finish line in 11:37. i was so happy. and SO proud of myself for sticking it out, and even turning the race into a decent one. I came in 8th AG. Not the top 5 i wanted to finish in, or the sub 11 that i wanted but sh*t happens. My ironman texas race is still probably my best executed race, but no one with even know because that race was such a mess. if that race had been full distance, i believe my time would have been around 10:50 or so. but, I cant actually say that, because it WASNT that distance and you just never know. so we keep trying to have that "perfect" race. thats the beauty of this sport. theres aways room to make yourself better.

But im taking some much deserved down time for now.

Special thanks to my Wattie Ink Teammates and our sponsors for their constant support!

Ironman Texas: what the f*^ck is going on?! This sport is ridiculous and I love it

As I sit in the airport (on a super secret 24 hour mission to Washington DC), consuming more calories than I would care to admit  I figured I would write down my experience with ironman #7. Most of you by now heard about the drama with the course and the race being slightly shortened. I'm not going to talk about that. It is what it is, and a part of this sport is learning to adapt to the conditions. We all got  a lesson in that on Saturday.

I'm going to start this off by saying my preparation for this race was as good as I could hope for. I was as consistent as humanly possible and I really felt like I was making good progress throughout my training. I was  confident coming into race weekend. But also nervous. Not about being able to complete the race, but more about hoping that my race would reflect all the hard work I had put into preparing for it.

The days leading up to the race were not ideal. Specifically Friday, the day before the race (also Friday the 13th so take from that what you will) was peppered with a series of unfortunate and stressful events. I got a call during the practice swim that our pup Loki was really sick and my parents were taking him to the vet. For those of you with fur babies, you understand how stressful that can be. But he was in good hands with my parents so we went on with our day.

After picking up my bike  we realized that Raceday wheels hadn't adjusted the breaks to accommodate the race wheel, so back to expo we went. I did my shake out ride with the new wheel, felt good so we were ready to make the rounds and drop off my bike and gear bags in the now 2 separate transitions (the swim course was altered due to bacteria levels in the canal , turning the race into a pretty standard 2 transition race. No big deal). As Jeff was hooking the bike up to the rack in the bed of the truck, it slipped And fell on its side. He managed to catch the back end as it fell and spared the derailer, but the front end hit hard. 

It became clear pretty quickly that something was wrong. The shifter was loose and wasn't shifting properly. I mostly panicked for 10 minutes before we decided to take it to a local shop. The expo mechanics were slammed and it would have been hours before they were able to take a look at it. The local shop was fast And they got the bike  working again but said there wasn't much they could do about the loose shifter. I kind of just crossed my fingers and hoped everything would be ok. 

At this point I was emotionally exhausted. I wanted to be off my feet by 11 and it was now almost 2 and we were just getting to dropping my stuff off in transition. It was hot, we were walking everywhere and I was NOT a happy camper. After grabbing some food and getting back to the hotel I prepared the last of y gear for the morning and got in my pjs to take a nap. 

Jeff went off to run some errands then go to the gym. At 630 pm I received a phone call from him saying he had a small gym mishap and  were calling paramedics as a precaution. The conversation went a little Iike this 

Me: What?!?!? Are you ok?!? Did you hit your head? Omg I'm coming.

Jeff: no no, seriously I'm totally fine. They are just making a big deal so out it because it happened at the gym and they have to be careful

Me: um ok we'll get yourself cleaned up and come home to rest

Jeff: oh wait, no they are taking me to the ER. I guess I need stitches.

3 hours in the ER and 23 staples later ( Jeff and a full speed shin to box collision during a box jump) we were waiting to be discharged from the ER. It's now 9:30 and way past my bedtime on a normal day, let alone the night before an IM. To say it had been a stressful day was an understatement. 

(Jeff is doing fine and he is a total trooper for spectating all day after this happened. )

Race day: early start. Pretty relaxed. Jammin to Lady Gaga. Starbucks via, egg whites, sweet potato. Gear check. Time to race.

The race is a time trial start, so I lined up around the 1:05-1:10 swimmers. Without a wetsuit I figured my time would be a little slower even with a swimskin. But, that was a realistic range so I went with it. The new course was great (but a little long we think) And with the time trial start it allowed for some open water to swim in. But as you would expect, slower swimmers seeded themselves in the front, which created some bottle necks around buoys. It got a little aggressive in these spots and I ended up swallowing a lot of nasty water. I knew that wouldn't feel great later.

I exited the water and looked at my watch. 1:09 and some change. Not my best but I'll take it! Off to T1 where some amazing friends were the to get me ready for the bike leg ( thanks Agustina, Shellie and Sumeet! I wouldn't have been able to pry that swim skin off my body without your help. Yes it took multiple individuals to accomplish this)

With all the DRAMA surrounding the bike course I was really interested to see how it would be. People were flipping out about the 83 turns on the new course, but I'm no stranger to technical bike courses during IM. For those of you that have been on the Ironman Wisconsin course, you know that it's filled with turns (103 to be exact) and hills. So the technical nature of the bike course didn't bother me. Stay steady, don't surge. Ride smart. 

Basically do the opposite of everyone around you ( seriously guys- it's a triathlon, not a bike race. There's no such thing as a good bike with a bad run. If you hammered the bike and walk the entire run you just didn't triathlon correctly.)

To my surprise the course was fast and mostly pleasant. There were a couple spots where I could do without being on the freeway , but otherwise, I preferred this route over the old one. But with all the turns, down hills, and shifting winds, I had a hard time  keeping my power steady. But my pacing was consistent and I felt good, so I went with it without pushing too much harder. After the swim I had developed  some stomach cramps from swallowing gross water/too much air and I spent a lot of the ride managing that.

Transition to run: smooth, fast, left smiling. And then realized the volunteer had taken my bike so quickly it didn't occur to me to grab my watch off it. So I was going to be pacing this run off feel. Plan was to take is easy for the first 15 or 16 miles then give it all I have for the last 10. Looking at the data I actually did ok with the first half. Some of it was a title too conservatively paced, but as I hit mile 16 I felt so good I kicked it to 8:30. Nutrition felt awesome-gu,coke, ice and oranges . Yes.

And then the storm hit. We were running through a severe thunderstorm that dropped buckets and buckets of rain on us. Side walks and roads started to flood, lightening and thunder were crashing overhead. I was less than 5 miles from  the finish when I came up on a small group of racers stopped on part of the trail. 

"The race clock has stopped and they are postponing the race until the weather clears"

Well, that's... Different. I mean what do you do? At the time it seemed absurd to me that the solution to waiting out the storm was to have us stand around, unsheltered, in the middle of the trail. Turns out there were a lot of factors at play here. Too many to get into, but ultimately in a situation with few options, this was the best.

And so we waited. And waited. And as we waited groups of racers behind us started to pile up. Those people you passed 3 miles back? Yup they are caught up now. And a lot of people were ignoring instructions to stay where they were. Pushing to the front , continuing to run, you name it. It was a shit show. Temperatures dropped. We were wet and a freezing. 

My estimate is that my group that reached the stop first waited between 40-50 minutes. Some people waited less than 5. Eventually were all allowed to mass start to continue the race. How were they going to work out these results? More importantly, how was I going to start running again after cooling down and standing around in the freezing rain?

Those 4 miles hurt. They hurt so much. After I managed to wiggle my way out of the crowds of the mass start, I picked up steam- but every step was a struggle. Up until the race delay, I was having (for me) a beautifully executed race. I stuck to my plan, my nutrition felt good, I handled mishaps ( there are always mishaps) with a clear and rational head, and not ONCE did I need to walk or take a break. So whyyyyyy on this great day, did we have this totally bizarro situation?! Such is life

The finish line always feels amazing. It really does. But I had a cloud hanging over head. My results (specifically my age group placement) were not what I had hoped or expected. Times as of now are completely off and we are awaiting the official time adjustments.  How would the race have panned out if I didn't have to stop running? Who knows. I had the privilege  of racing one of the most bizarre, and dare I say "epic" ironman races. It was an experience to say that least. I get a lot of personal gratification though, from improving and getting better every time I race, and I'll just have to wait and see how the results and times are adjusted.

But. I had so much fun out there yesterday. I smiled and cheered and slapped someone's butt. And sometimes that all that matters. 

Thank you to all the volunteers for sticking with us through he storms. These events can't take place without you. Thanks to Coach Steve for always being the voice of reason and pushing me  to be better. Thanks to all my friends that were out there spectating (specifically Sarah, Jess and Aaron) for being the weirdest and rowdiest  crowd you could ever hope to run past. And of course thanks to hubby Jeff, who supports me no matter what and tells me to keep pushing even when I want to give up. 

Special shout out to Team Wattie Ink and our sponsors ( especially blue seventy- those element goggles ROCKED)

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