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)

Sent from my i

Rocky Raccoon 50 race report

Note: this is long. Short synopsis version- This was an incredible experience and I will absolutely do it again. For this post, I am going to focus on my personal race report- but many of you know what happened with Jeff's day and I cannot wait to sherpa his redemption race! So proud of his strength and determination on Saturday. 

About 5  months ago, I got this crazy idea. After coming off a disappointing triathlon season,  I was looking for a way to start fresh. I was totally intrigued by the idea of running an ultra marathon but really knew nothing about it. I love long events and this seemed like the perfect way to cleanse my pallet and get excited about something totally new. Plus, I love trail running and its something we just don't get a lot of time to do during triathlon training. The Rocky Raccoon 50 and 100 mile races are pretty popular local races, and only an hour from where we live in Houston, so this seemed like the best way to go.

Initially, I had my sight set on the 100 miler. Go big or go home, as I always say. But after talking with a few friends, I was basically told that a 100 miler would make it really really difficulty to turn around and have a successful triathlon season afterwards, since so many of the ultra training miles are long and slow. With a tri season (hopefully) focused on getting faster and shorter course racing, this didnt seem ideal. So 50 miler it was. Around this time, I also changed coaches and signed on with Coach Steve Johnson and Dark Horse Triathlon. Coach Steve was totally supportive of this idea and we created a racing schedule that would hopefully be conducive for a triathlon "comeback" with later season A races. It's not an easy task to get a multisport athlete through ultra marathon training injury free- but Coach Steve's plan worked beautifully and I feel like a much, MUCH stronger runner all around. But, on to race day.

Jeff, Robyn (our friend from Chicago and owner of Edge Athlete Lounge) and I drove to Huntsville Friday night before the race for packet pick up. This had to be the most low-key laid back packet pick up i have ever been to. People were wearing their REGULAR CLOTHES ( triathletes, take note, you don't actually have to wear race gear to packet pick up), chatting, joking and no one was giving anyone the " I wonder what age group shes in" stink eye. What I learned from this experience is that trail runners are, in general, a more accepting and laid back crowd. What a fresh perspective.

I'll spare everyone the details of  the night before and morning of routine. Race start was at 6 am and before we knew it we were running in the dark, ushered through the start with a New Year's Eve style countdown from the race director. "Hold back" was the mantra for the first few miles till the sun came up. Even with headlamps, it was dark and footing was unsure. The trails in the Huntsville state Park are beautiful, but the terrain is uneven, filled with roots and rocks ready to take you out. Jeff, Robyn and I ran the first few miles extremely conservatively (first 5 splits below). It was going to be a long day and the last thing we needed was someone to break or twist their ankle. I'm prone to falling flat on my face walking across the street in broad daylight, so my odds of not falling before dawn in the middle of the woods were not great. But we survived! And we only took people off course once... but moving on.

As the sun came up we were greeted with a beautiful mist over the park. At this point we were able to get up to speed a little bit. Note: When talking about an ultra, speed is a relative term.  I made the somewhat risky decision to stick with Robyn, a seasoned ultra runner, as long as I could.   I knew she was faster than me and was probably aiming for an overall faster time across the 50. but my legs felt fresh and I felt awesome- so I decided I would run with her for at least the first 2 loops and see where that left me. Sorry Coach- not exactly what you told me to do, BUT perceived effort was low. so I rolled with it :D :D

The first half of the 16.7 mile loop is rooty and technical, but forgiving. Lots of downhills where you can pick up some speed and some fun stretches of single track.

My favorite part of the course is a clear flat section overlooking the lake. This is a picture I took on one of our cloudy training runs, but the view on race day was sunny and breathtaking.

After this spot though, the loop takes a turn. You spend  a lot of time going up hill and trying to manage your effort. Robyn and I would walk/shuffle the up hills and focus on long deep breaths. This is a trick she thankfully taught me in the first few miles of the race. Wearing a hydration pack, you don't/cant always take a full breath, and a couple paces walking and focusing on breathing goes a long way.

Garmin Connect file for the 50 miles here. 

We finished our first loop in just under 3 hours including stops we made to adjust gear, go to the bathroom, and refuel at aid stations. We spent a lot of splits in the 10 - 10:30 range. We were making really good time, and I still felt great, so off we went on round two.

As we suspected in the beginning, we spent most of the second lap passing people that had perhaps started a little too ambitiously.  But the atmosphere on the course was amazing. Lots of chatting, telling of stories and exchanging of encouragement. We were all out there to run 50 miles. Its just that some people would get to the finish line first. That seems obvious, but it was actually a really profound experience (for an endurance event). To be perfectly honest, I am not used to that level of comradery on course ( again, triathlon culture could stand to take a cue) and it was wonderful.

The second loop went by relatively uneventfully. Some splits were long- trying to figure out gear malfunctions, more bathroom or snack breaks, but some splits were quick and painless. At this point I was still running with Robyn, but knew that the 3rd loop was going to be a whole different animal. Second loop- done and done in 3 hours.

Coming into the end of the second loop I was starting to get fatigued. I opened my drop bag, and got out my secret weapon - my little bag of Mike and Ikes. I had been fueling the entire race on Osmo and Justins Almond butter, which had worked perfectly. No bonking, no crashing, and No GI distress. But, after 7 hours of exercise, i needed a little sugar boost. I dont think anything has ever tasted so good. We both took in more calories than usual starting out the third loop- and this actually made the first few miles into loop 3 hard. At this point we had been running for over 33 miles and you either get to run or digest at that point, so we took the pace down a bit to let the food sink in.

At mile 37 Robyn declared that we were "within the half marathon" and just like that, its as if she had a fresh pair of legs. She started to push the pace. I didnt want to hold her back, but I also wanted to cross the finish line running, so we finally parted ways. I kept plodding along, slow and steady. but at this point I was in a pretty excruciating amount of pain. My IT bands were tight, and descending was almost unbearable. Fortunately for me though, climbing was still fine, and the second half of the loop was mostly up hill. Miles 40-47 were definitely the low point of my day. I was tired, i felt like i was barely moving, and I had to walk more than I had walked all day. But I was still moving and looked forward to the hospitality of the aid stations stocked with girl scout cookies ( nutrition plan be damned at this point).

the last three miles were a blast. I told myself the race was really just 49 miles, with a 1 mile victory lap. That doesn't sound so bad, right? That victory lap was so so sweet. I came into the finish line to see friends cheering which made my day. Robyn had PR'ed and gotten 4th female over all. Despite my struggle in the end, my last loop was 3:22 and I came in a 9:21, almost 40 minutes before my "best case scenario" finish putting me first in my age group and 8th female over all.

I cannot say enough good things about the Tejas Trails race series, the volunteers and the organizers. it was an amazing day and amazing race, and can't wait to be back. Maybe for the 100?

Ironman Wisconsin 2014 Race Report

I like to get these race reports done as soon as possible, so the events of the day and my reactions to them are fresh in my mind. Short synopsis is: It was a tough day, but I learned a lot. 12:21 on the day, 1:07 swim, 6:45 bike, 4:19 run.

Jeff and I flew into Chicago Thursday morning before the race, met up with family and then made the drive to our favorite town in the Midwest. Madison is a great place, full of cyclists, coffee shops, great places to eat, and hills hills and more hills that can put a smile on any cyclist's face, as long as they are a glutton for punishment. One of the things we have missed the most since moving to Houston are the weekend trips we would take to Mad-town to train,  so the familiar drive up John Nolan drive with Monona Terrance in the background was a welcome and comforting sight.

The days leading up to the race were pretty relaxing as far as pre-Ironman goes. Normally we are frantically running around dealing with random ridiculous crises, but since we had our fair share of that before we left for our trip ( remember the bike fit debacle?) we seemed to have gotten that out of the way. We did our best to nap, stay off our feet and eat plenty of good food (more on food and nutrition later, our choice to embrace Metabolic Efficiency training dramatically improved our training experiences and completely saved race day for me). I was nervous as usual. I had high expectations and really felt that I could achieve the goals I had set forth for myself, but was nervous about the unknown.  But I tried to only worry about things I could control, so the weekend went on.

** Brief sidebar on nutrition before I get into the day: After Ironman Brazil and my severe GI issues I decided that my usual plan of ‘ just eat whatever and hope that it works’ was no longer a viable plan. If I was going to be serious about racing, I needed to be serious about race day nutrition. I would loosely practice nutrition before, but I never turned down a mid ride snickers bar either, and would frequently fuel long rides with pineapple empanadas from El Tierra Caliente ( the best Mexican Bakery EVER).

After doing some research about different training and racing nutrition, I was pointed in the direction of Metabolic Efficiency (ME) training, which addresses training/racing nutrition via every day nutrition. The idea is to teach your body to use fat instead of carbohydrate as fuel during exercise, done by consuming high amounts of good fats, protein and fiber, and little carbohydrate ( carbs from lots of veggies and a little fruit is fine, but the idea is to cut out grains, starches and legumes) and keeping protein/carb ratio as close to 1:1 as possible. There are also aspects of periodization – so if you want to learn more I would highly recommend picking up the book Metabolic Efficiency Training: Teaching the Body to Burn More Fat by Bob Seebohar or talking to our super awesome friend Robyn Lalonde ( owner of Edge Athlete Lounge in Chicago who is trained in MET). **

So Sunday morning came quickly. I'll skip over normal morning stuff. Getting down to swim start always takes longer than you expect in Madison, and if you want to line up near the front of the swim you have to be prepared to get in early, and tread water for a little while. So I made my way down early and got in place. It felt crowded. Well, it felt like there were nearly 3000 people in the water ( largest number of athletes starting to date, I believe). So there’s that.

Gun goes off. Its chaos for a while, but I quickly find some feet to draft off and the first stretch of the swim is pretty uneventful. It was a lot of contact as usual, but I expected it to clear up once we turned the first buoy and made our way to the second- I wasn't sighting well but that’s because the bottle neck caused by turning the buoy meant more crowding, and more contact. All of a sudden I went up to take a breath and was hit hard on my head by a guy swimming diagonally trying to get in front of me. I swallowed what felt like was a gallon of water but kept going. After turning the last buoy I lost focus and as far as I can tell I added quite a bit of distance to my swim by drifting off the line- I scrambled to cut across, but I think the damage had been done. Slower than expected swim- 1:07:XX, but meh, 2 minutes extra  is not the end of the world if you think about it within the context of an entire day.

Coming out of the water I hit up the wetsuit strippers. There were some issues getting the wetsuit off over my garmin. My watch got reset in the process, but this isn't a huge deal to me. I dealt with it on the fly and moved on. But as I ran to my bike in T1 I had that sloshy feeling in my stomach and was almost immediately hit with serious nausea. I thought this was just because of the abrupt transition from swimming to running, and figured it would subside. As planned, I didn’t take in any calories for the first 15-20 minutes to let my stomach calm down. About 20 minutes in I took a swig of water. Oh no, that didn’t feel good- this nausea was real, and it was about to rear its ugly head. I took a few sips of Osmo in an attempt to get some salt and electrolytes and some calories, and then in started… think Norman Stadler epic meltdown Kona 2007

What I can only imagine was lake water and a couple sips of Osmo came right up. This was not good- I just got on the bike and there was no way for me to take in any calories. I began to panic. How was I going to finish this bike ride without any caloric intake, while getting sick, much less run a marathon after? I really didn’t know what to do except press on and try to take in some calories. Small bite of cliff bar? Nope, that didn’t work. More osmo and water? Nope, right back out. I managed to keep a decent pace for the first part of the loop but I started to get desperate, scared, disappointed and upset all in one. I saw girls in my age group pass me left and right and I knew my goals for the day were out the window. But that wasn’t my primary concern at that moment. Was I going to be able to finish this race at all? I stopped at an aid station right after the climb into Mt Horeb, got sick again and then immediately started to cry. It’s embarrassing thinking about it now, but the rush of emotion and disappointment was overwhelming as I contemplated pulling the plug on the race. But as one of the volunteers approached me to ask if I wanted to call Medical or the sag van, I found myself saying “No, I’m going to keep going, it’s just going to be a long day”. So there it was. I was committing to this race.

And that’s how my bike ride continued. After the first of the “three sisters” ( three major climbs on the back half of the loop), I pulled over to the side of the road again.  A sweet older gentleman saw me, crossed the street to check up on me. After I assured him I would be fine ( I wasn't entirely sure of this myself, but I guess I made a compelling case) and we chatted for a while.  I told him I appreciated him stopping for me, and went on my way. I was miserable. But I was moving forward, and in the ever so wise words of a friend “forward is a pace” so I pressed on. I got to the last climb on the first loop where tri clubs, friends, family and random spectators set up camp, grills, coolers and music and line the side of the road Tour de France style. I knew that Element Multisport, our tri shop back in Chicago, would have their tent set up near the top of the hill and I was desperate for a friendly face. I saw our friend Chris, the owner of Element, and pulled over.  As he asked me what was wrong I started crying again. I was a blubbering mess, and I apologize to anyone I encountered during this less than glamorous moment in my life.

Chris gave me a pretzel and made the compelling argument that my second loop would be better since hopefully by then I will have gotten rid of all that lake water in my stomach. Hmm ok, I could get behind this idea. I was almost at the second loop anyway, how bad could another one be? I passed the half way mark and somewhere around mile 60 or so is special needs. I decided to stop as I had originally planned to switch bottles even though I had only gone through half of one of my bottles of Osmo. I was able to keep liquid down at this point, (but still hadn’t tried food) so I wanted to make sure I had enough osmo on me in case I was able to actually fuel my way through the rest of the ride.

But as I pulled up to special needs and stopped, I was shaking and a couple volunteers rushed to me. I explained to them what happened and in the most pitiful, but honest, moment of the day I blurted out “ I just need a hug from my husband”. Despite our hilarious “rivalry” hinged solely on burger bets, I was secretly hoping he was somewhere right behind me, and that I could let him know what was going on. The volunteers were quick to jump to action with the hug though. All the volunteers this past Sunday were amazing, and there aren’t enough “thank yous” I can give for the people that sacrifice their time to spend an entire day catering to the base needs (hugs included) of triathletes.

I decided to use the opportunity to open up a packet of almond butter and suck it down. Finally taking food in was energizing, and as I started back up I became cautiously optimistic that I was going to make it through this ride. For the rest of the 112 miles I kept a slow and steady pace, taking in small bites of cliff bar and almond butter. All in all, I made it through the ride on less than 400 calories and there is absolutely no way I would have been able to do that if I had not been practicing metabolic efficiency- training ( ok, done with my soap box moment)

I got a little weepy (AGAIN, it was like a Meryl Streep movie I swear) as I pulled into T2 because I honestly could not believe that ride was over. I had mentally been preparing myself for a near midnight finish throughout the entire ride because I had no idea how my day was going to unfold. I left my garmin on my bike. This run was going to be old school.

Starting the run I felt surprisingly good – I hit the first aid station for some ice, because it always calms my stomach, and started to pick up momentum. Before I knew it, I was actually running this marathon. I wasn't moving at a blazing pace or anything but to put it in perspective, I had dropped down to 25^th place after my bike ( from 13^th on the swim) and ran my way back to 15^th in my age group. I passed 91 women and around 400 men on the run. Given the day I had, I can’t really complain about this. I won’t go into too much detail on the run. Parts were great, parts were not so great ( including the world’s longest pee break because my body was FINALLY allowing me to hydrate) but overall, that run was fun, despite what my face  may look like in the pictures. I took potato chips from random spectators ( SO GOOD), high fived some kids, danced to some music around mile 18, saw friends and old teammates, and got several compliments on my hot pink shoes.

Looking back on the day, I can honestly say it was full of small, personal victories.  I kept going when I really wanted to stop. I used my training to adapt to what came my way. And I was reminded of the kindness and generosity of others in a sport that’s so often described as selfish. But, there is an element of disappointment as well that seems to be a recent theme for my racing. Part of it is that I put a lot of pressure on myself so no matter what the result is, I will always expect more. The other aspect of it is that I know how hard I work, and during training I see glimpses of what I am really capable of and then for whatever reason, the pieces don’t come together on race day. I’m not writing this the whine or complain, but just as a way to reflect on a long, rewarding and challenging year of racing. I know it’s “just a hobby” but I am lucky enough to have found something I am passionate about, and part of the joy I derive from this is challenging myself to become better at it. So it’s time to step back and think about what’s next for me. I plan on using a little bit of off season time to test the waters with ultra marathon running before hopping back on tri training, Contrary to previous plans though, it looks like 2015 will focus on building speed. I’ll come back to Ironman the following year hopefully refreshed, faster and stronger J

Ironman Brasil!! Força guerra!

For the record, "Força guerra!" was a phrase that was shouted at me about a million times during Sunday's  race, and from what I can decipher from this colloquialism is that it means "strong war" or "all out war". To me this is preferable to  " you're almost there!" (No I'm not, shut up) and "looking strong"(didn't your mother ever teach you not to lie?) and sounds almost joyful when said in the melodic tone of Portuguese. 

Before I get into the race report ( spoiler alert; it's going to be long so grab some trail mix and get comfy) I just wanted to say that IM Brasil was an amazing experience. Florianopolis, or Floripa for short, is an island that celebrates the triathlon culture and recognizes race day as a culmination of months of training, sacrifice and dedication, both on behalf of the athletes as well as their supportive families. The pre race culture here was positive and jovial as opposed to the stern " I'm going to kick your ass or at least throw a stick in your spokes" stare down that characterizes other races  I've participated in. It was by far the most relaxing IM experience I've had and for that I am thankful, and hopeful that other races will catch on. Also, I really hope the European style cafe in the middle of race expo catches on too. 

 A few things about this race made it kind of interesting. The first was the lack of women competing. Out of the 2100 competitors in the race, only 175 bib numbers were assigned to women including pros. I have a few theories on why this may be the case, but regardless it gave a much different vibe to the race. A low female count could have resulted in a weak field, but that was actually the opposite of the case as I would find out on race day. The second was the ocean swim, with a water exit half way through and only a total of four buoys. Sighting was a huge challenge, coupled with the strong current and aggressive male field, this was a tough swim. 

The third interesting aspect here is the difference in the perception of the race difficulty and the reality. This course was by no means the hardest I have done, but there is a hilly section on both the bike (done twice)and the run that you don't really hear about until you get here. To put this into perspective, ironman Wisconsin which has a reputation for being hilly and difficult has approximately 7400 feet of climbing. IM Brasil, which has a reputation for being flat and fast, actually clocks in about 5400 feet of climbing. 2 thousand less than Wisconsin but still nothing to sneeze at if you are coming into the race expecting a flat course. So on to the race report. 

Note: GI issues played a major part in my race day. Blog will likely be TMI, but hey this is part of the sport. We pee in wet suits, we pee on bikes, and we talk about bodily functions. Regression at its finest.

Race morning: bags and bikes had been checked the day before so after getting nutrition on my bike, pumping up tires, it was time to mosey on over to swim start. This part was smooth. I was nervous, a little emotional, but things were going off without a hitch, and I even saw my street dog friend, Giuseppe, roaming transition. I took this as a good sign. My stomach didn't feel great but I assumed it was race nerves and usually this means several bathroom trips right before swim start, and that gets things sorted out. Jeff and I made the 1k walk to swim start, wetsuits half on, expecting to find Porto Jon's near swim start. No dice. Apparently they aren't allowed near the beach. Race was starting in 15 minutes and I was out of luck. Decided to just put it out if my mind and hope it would just go away. Because physiology will certainly be considerate of the fact that in the middle of a race. 

Ken Glah, former pro, 30 time kona finisher, owner of Endurance  Sports Travel and local Floripa celebrity had told us on our course tour a couple days earlier that we should look at the directions the kayaks and boats were facing in order to read the direction of the current. Based on what we saw, we lined up toward the far right, hoping that the current would drag us toward the buoys, instead of way off course,

Swim 1:06:xx:  for all the camaraderie that characterized the days leading up to the race, the swim was by far one of the most violent and ruthless I have ever participated in. Brazillians are incredible swimmers and on this day there didn't seem to be many back of the pack swimmers at all. I lined up in the second row as I usually do but in all honestly, I probably I should have sat 3 or 4 rows back on Sunday. As the swim started I got clocked in the lip pretty hard and elbowed in the eye so badly it knocked my goggles off. Great, what a way to start the day. I sat in the middle of the washing machine fixing my goggles and basically thought that any swim sub 1:10 was going to be impossible today. The current was strong, the swimmers were fierce, and I still hadn't gotten to the mid swim beach run. But, if my countless hours swimming with the masters team taught me anything, it was that while I may not be the fastest swimmer , I AM a strong and consistent one, so I blocked out the commotion around me and focused on long strokes. Despite the lack of buoys, I found that I was as actually spotting pretty well- there were sections of the swim where I found some open water while everyone else swam off course. When I got caught in the middle of it all, I hitched myself on to a pair of feet and let them pull me along for a while. About 2200 meters in was the swim exit to run over the timing chip. I was nervous about this because it meant having to get over the breakers (not easy at 4 foot 11) and run through the sand while trying to keep my HR under control. The beach run we went as smooth as I could have hoped for. I swam into shore while most people walked and stood up on the beach actually feeling fresh ( ( again a huge thanks to coach Greg at masters for beating my butt every practice and a huge thanks to zoot for making this amazing wet suit). I washed some salt out of my mouth with fresh water at the aid station and kept going. At this point I was feeling a little crampy because of the salt water I had taken in during the swim but overall  feeling good. I hopped back in, dolphin dove over the breakers ( thanks Karin for the tip!!!) and in to the rest of the swim. Mostly uneventful. As I came into the (buoyless) finish line of the swim I prepared myself to look at my watch to find a disappointing swim time, but as I looked down to hit lap I saw 1:06:xx!! I was ecstatic -given the conditions that was a great swim time for me

(Me giggling like a little girl through the fresh water shower- hey dude you're blocking my shot)

T1: there is a bit of a run up a carpeted ramp before you hit the wetsuit strippers, then a little more run after that through the fresh water shower and into the transition to grab your bag. Off into the changing tents then off to grab my bike. Volunteers at IM Brasil are instructed NOT to help with retrieving bags or bikes, or putting your swim stuff into your bike bag for you, so this makes it a little slower, but totally fine. I was in and out in 5 minutes or so. 

Bike 5:45:xx: I was excited to get on the bike. Thanks to coach Michelle LeBlanc, I've seen huge strides in my cycling. Better strength and endurance, and just generally more confident. I set out on the ride cautiously optimistic. I knew I had to keep my heart rate in Zone 2 for the ride but I also knew that it would be elevated coming out of the swim and t1 so I was ready to use power as a gage until I got my HR under control. Holy draft packs batman!! Drafting was rampant on this course and I was committed to not get sucked up in it. There was cheating everywhere, and it was sad to see. But I raced my race on my own and am proud of that.

 As I got off the cobble stone path that lead out of the transition area I remember thinking something felt off. I looked down at my leg to notice I had no timing chip. F*ck!!!!! The last thing I wanted was to get disqualified ( we later heard that first place in one of the male age groups was dq'ed for not crossing over all the timing mats so I feel justified in my paranoia ). I road like that, having a minor panic attack until the first aid station/ penalty tent. I yelled Oi! ( hello) then "English"  to the volunteers standing there. One of them spoke a few words. I pointed down at my leg said I lost my timing chip during the swim( by doing the best air freestyle I could muster). She motioned for me to keep going and said she would call ahead to warn them. I thought this meant ahead to the next aid station/ med tent. So I kept riding, staying as calm as I could. At this point my HR hadn't recovered yet but I was comfortably in my zone2 power. I was feeling good. 

As I came up to the next aids station I had two primary goals 1) discuss my lack of chip with the race officials and 2) exchange my bottle of perform ( that I had made that morning with my own stash) for a bottle of Gatorade, which much to our surprise, is the on course nutrition in Brasil.Brasilian Gatorade is different as you can imagine and the last thing I wanted was to mix perform and Gatorade all in one day. I exchanged my bottle and spoke with an official. He told me the call had been made ahead to transition and they were writing my number down at each check point so I could continue in as normal until the run. Relieved, it was finally time to focus on my ride. The first loop was uneventful really. Weaving in and out of packs was annoying and the hils were tough but I rode them conservatively. 

EFS, water, power gel blasts, Gatorade. And on to the second loop. As warned the coastal winds picked up big time and my comfortable 20+ mph average took a hit. I also developed a killer side stitch and started feeling some major GI distress around mile 80. I told myself to ride it out. Took a slice of banana at the next aid station which helped a little. The last 30 miles or so were a bit painful. Heart rate was in the right zone but power was low as I granny geared through the wind. I was frustrated but knew I was on course for a huge bike PR. I think total ride time was 5:45. My split/transition times may be off since I have no timing chip and was going off where I hit lap on my watch.

(Um ignore the stomach bloat. This picture is photographic evidence that there was a storm brewing in my belly, and the day was not going to end well)

T2: I ran into transition yelling for my timing chip like some insane person, and a volunteer informed me that someone had called ahead and they had made me a new one and it was already hanging on my T2 bag. Now that is service. I owe those volunteers a lot. In the hustle and bustle I forgot to grab my garmin off the bike mount so I had to run back to my bike to get it. This resulted in a slow t2. Maybe 7 minutes or so? Need to check the watch

Run: ah, the run. My race ended somewhere around mile 5 or 6 and turned into a slower than hoped for trot to the finish. I came out of transition feeling strong. My legs have never felt that good coming off an ironman bike and I was excited to run. I was easily holding 8s right out of T2 but decided to take it to 8:30s for the first few miles to let it all settle in. Around mile 2 or 3 I hit the first monster hill on the run course. Before the race everyone said "walk the hills" and I laughed it off since I've never met a hill I haven't been able to run up. A few steps into this hill I started to walk. It was no joke and not worth sacrificing the rest of my run, which at that point was salvageable. I hit that hill again at mile 6 or so, and it's around then that I decided I really, really needed to use a rest room. My stomach had inflated and I was running looking like I was carrying around a big pasta lunch.  Fluids sloshed in my stomach and then GI stress induced stomach cramps were in full force.But being my stubborn self I did not want to stop and waste the time. I could push through 26 miles and run straight through the finish to a portopotty right? Sure. 

I gave in at mile 10. I had temporary relief( and a quicker pace) for about a mile, until I had to stop again. And this was my run from about mile 10-26. Bathroom stops every 2 miles or so and really no ability to take in nutrition. Oranges seemed to help and I took a couple saltines. Luckily the run was comprised of one 13 mile loop and two 6.5 mile loops, and the last two loops were mostly flat with the exception of a false flat near the last turn around. Crowds were denser here which helped. But I had to come to terms that my initial sub 11 goals were out the window and I was hoping to just salvage a PR. I managed to finish in 11:32, 6th in my age group and a 6 minute PR. 

Now that I've spent 9 glorious days in Brazil, the last 4 or so indulging in pao de quijo, Nutella, pizza, croissants and amazing cappuccinos and sleeping a TON, it's time to get home and refocus. My guess is I still have some recovery to do, but it's time to get my nutrition in order. Day to day I do a good job but it seems like I haven't found a good training and racing combination that will maximize my performance. Or, you know, keep me out of the bathroom. Next major race is Ironman Wisconsin in September, where I hope to return to my old stomping grounds for a great race.

Nawlins 70.3

As usual, life has taken over, and I haven't written a blog post in months. Let's look at it this way, it means I've been spending my time training, right?

So I'm gonna get down to the nitty gritty: New Orleans 70.3 race report. I'll give the full details below, but if you want a brief snap shot here it is: 4th place age group, total time 5:13:XX which is a 6 minute PR on a tough day. This is the highest I have ever placed in a 70.3, which tend to have highly competitive fields. I was really happy with my swim, but bike and run were tough with the conditions. Lesson's learned 1) need to tweak nutrition a little bit. came off the bike with some GI distress 2) Bike has definitely improved- felt strong but need to keep more consistent over the ride 3) Run needs some more work. Felt like I was running strong, but couldn't hit expected paces. Overall I am realllly happy with my performance, especially given the fact that it seemed to be a slow day over all. Thanks to Coach Michelle for getting me here!

For those of you wanting a more detailed report.....

Pre Race:  The nature of my job makes race prep a little interesting. Normally, I would love to get to a race Friday night, sleep in a little on Saturday, check in for the race, prep all my gear, eat a big late lunch and then spend the night with my feet up watching inspirational sports movies or countless episodes of Property Brothers while stuffing my face with nutella and peanut butter sandwiches. Unfortunately, I work late on Fridays, which meant the only option for the 6 hour drive to New Orleans was Saturday morning. An early wake up call and a large Dunkin Donut's coffee later, we were on the road. Getting to NOLA was uneventful, and check in for the race was a BREEZE. They were super efficient, and I want to give them props because this was a dream compared to the nightmare of check in at Austin. But by the time we made it to town, checked in, and ate lunch, it was already 4:30 in the afternoon, which means my lounging and relaxing time was significantly cut short. Not a huge deal, but didn't really get a chance to get in my normal pre race ritual of getting my hair braided or getting my race day manicure. This may not be a big deal to some, but I am a creature of habit and breaking tradition is really upsetting. No race day mani = truly tragic. In all seriousness though, I really wish I had time to get my head on straight. I put a lot of pressure on myself, and the rush of the day made it difficult to get things into perspective.

Race morning: Up at 3:30. banana, bagel, peanut butter and a pop tart for good measure. Lots of water, a little perform and off to transition. set up was easy breezy and then i spend the rest of the time trying to figure out the swim course.

The swim course was in this lovely N shape. there were yellow buoys, green buoys, and orange buoys, right turns, left turns etc. a little confusing. but the waters were still and calm ( at least, when 2000 people wernt thrashing around). NOLA is a time trial start, which I love. We started in waves, and each wave went off in groups of 8 a few seconds apart. It made swim start  a lot more tolerable but I was 8 waves in, which means I also had to swim over a ton of people. But my new wetsuit kicked ass. After spending 8 years racing in a sleeveless, I finally splurged on a more-than-entry-level wetsuit with sleeves, and boy did it feel good. Oh, but I totally forgot to hit start on the garmin until about 400 meters in. So that was awesome. 

 Other than swallowing too much water, swim was great. 33:11, PR. 

T1: LONG T1. I had a spot near bike out though, so that made up for it. Uneventful. Had a hard time getting out of my wetsuit, sleeves were an added challenge. 

Bike:  I had been told this was a notoriously windy course and this year was no different. I had been told that in general it was a head wind out, and a killer tail wind in which I knew I could handle. Jeff and I had done a ton of training in Galveston and I had plenty of experience in head wind for at least 50% of any given ride. Unfortunately, on race day headwind was the name of the game. looking at my data, it looks like there was about a 10 mile stretch we got some reprieve from the wind. My heart rate recovered a little bit and I was average about 24 mph but it was really short lived. In retrospect, I can tell from the data that I didn't do a great job of managing my effort over the entire bike course. The headwind on the second half was a real surprise, since the first 25 miles or so had already been brutal. My fault. Lesson learned. As far as nutrition:  I have been experimenting with using EFS liquid shots during training. The taste is palatable, and it really had been working well, but I was supplementing with power bar gel blasts, perform and stinger waffles. Unfortunately, something didnt sit right on Sunday. I got off the bike with a little GI distress. Something I definitely need to work on before Brazil

T2: easy peasy. not much to discuss 

Run: Ah, the run. Running is by far my favorite part of any tri and as usual I was excited about this. I came off the bike not feeling great but I need to remind myself that this usually shakes out in a couple miles, or at least once I get on the course and someone hands my some ice ( chewing ice ALWAYS settles my stomach on the run. Don't know why, all I know is that it works). The run course was lonely, windy, hot and FULL of long slow inclines (not steep, but enough to slow you down). Definitely not what I was expecting at all. Coming into training I was feeling super confident about my run, so as the 13 miles progressed and  I realized it was not going to go the way I wanted, I was getting a little bit down on myself. But I just pushed through it, tried to keep cool and got the run done. 

All in all, I am happy with my finish, but definitely have a few things to work on before IM Brazil. Great day off training ( and my healthy eating...mmmm tacos for dinner, back on track tomorrow!) but back to training and focusing hard until May 25th. 

Austin 70.3

Because I am totally slacking on blog posts, I am going to get to this one as soon as possible. It may be long, but writing things down is just as much for me to remember mistakes/good moves/ high points/low points in the race as it is about sharing the stories with my friends, so be patient :)


Leading up to this race, I can't say I felt great. I had high expectations for myself, and tend to be a nervous racer generally, so taper was kind of tricky. I never know if I am doing too much, too little, just enough. But, my short course racing gave me confidence that I had definitely gotten stronger on the bike, and I had had a few solid runs before the race so i was feeling ok. Swimming is always a wild card for me, but at the very least my swim fitness was there, even if speed wasn't.

Short synopsis: This wasn't the day that I wanted. Based on the training I had done, the paces I was hitting, and my new strength on the bike, I knew I was capable of something around the 5 hour range. I went into Austin knowing that its not necessarily the fastest course ( hilly run, lots of chipseal on the bike) So a best case scenario for me would have been something in the low 5s, and a top 5 finish in my age group. But that didnt happen. Early mechanical issues (ill put all the deets in the long version below) sent me into a bad headspace. Im usually pretty stoic on race day and can talk myself down from the metaphorical ledge, but I just couldn't today. I rode angry, failed on my nutrition and just tried to hold together any sort of run I could. So sure, I had some challenges that were out of my hands, but my biggest disappointment is that I didn't execute this race the best i could GIVEN the conditions. Usually execution is my strength. So today wasn't what I wanted, but I held it together and hopefully will learn and improve from it. But always happy and grateful to race :)

Long Version:

So Austin is an interesting situation for a 70.3 and given everything that I didn't like about it put together, I'm not sure i'll do this race again ( and not just because it didn't go well for me). Ill point out these things here and there. The first is that there are 2 transition sites and Ironman 140.6 style transition bags ( run gear bike gear etc). the problem with this is that it requires you to prep all your stuff the day before, and spend ALL DAY checking in your bike, driving back and forth between T1 and T2 which ends up being highly congested and just kind of annoying.

 So race morning came, and we had to park in T2 and take the shuttle to T1 so I could put my nutrition on my bike and get prepped for the race. I was in the 13th wave, so had some time to kill where I generally just fidget around and try and stay calm. The weather miraculously cleared up so that it wasn't thundering or raining at the start of the race, but the wind was definitely  picking up. As I got into the water I seeded myself in the front. Im not the fastest swimmer but i HATE getting caught behind people, and being such a late wave, I knew I would be swimming over other waves anyway, so I wanted to get out front

Swim: The girls here in Texas swim DIRTY. fact. the three races I have done down here have been the most contact I have ever experienced, and this includes all the IM mass starts. I tried to work my way through the crowd, but having not worn a wetsuit since IMOO 2012, I was finding it hard to breathe. I was breathing every stroke in the beginning to try and regulate my breathing and it seemed to work. After the race, people were talking about how much push back they were getting from the chop caused by the wind, but Im not sure i noticed it that much. I was too busy getting beat up. After the first buoy I started feeling stronger but sure enough, I also started running into people from several waves in front. This caused a few problems, but otherwise the swim was uneventful. 34 min something on the swim ( watch says less, but whatever)

T1: Ok folks lets talk about T1. During mandatory bike check in, we were being told to carry our bikes from our cars to the racks because of the burrs that were scattered across the grassy patch used for T1. This does not bode well. SEVERAL people got flats during bike check in, and thats when I decided that the only logical thing to do is to carry my bike out of T1 as well ( as a note, they actually ended up recommending this right before race start). So in addition to the swimming, biking, and running, lets add some cyclocross to the mix. As I come into T1, I get a little lost in transition but find my bike and start to get changed. I have a hard time bringing my heart rate down, so i decided to take my time since carrying my bike out of the looooooong transition was about to spike it again. It had rained HEAVILY in the early morning hours so transition was a sloppy mess. I hobbled through transition carrying my bike ( it got really heavy!!) and finally made it to the bike mount line. and then, the fun starts....

Bike: The bike mount line is ridiculous. NO ONE can clip in. Why? because we all have INCHES of mud caked into our cleats from T1. I had the hardest time clipping in , stopped to try and kick out some of the mud ( at the first bike aid station they actually were hosing out peoples shoes but at this point i had managed to clip in). That seemed to help except with everyone struggling so much they were riding really squirrly. This is about when I realized I couldnt break with my rear wheel. Uh oh. not good. I pull over and my rear break is open ( maybe from when I took it to the shop a couple days before? I should have checked this though). Ok, crisis averted. So i get back on my bike. again. a couple minutes later i heard a "phsssssssss- click click click", which to me, sounded like a flat. oh HELLLLL no. I get off my bike. Again. check the front wheel-fine. check the back wheel-fine. Look around and cannot figure out what is going on until i look at my disc cover. The tape/material covering the cut out for the valve was undone, likely due to the morning rain, and was flapping in the wind and hitting the frame. For some reason, instead of ripping it off right there, i try and stick it back on and keep moving. OBVIOUSLY this doesn't work. two seconds later its undone again, and I'm off the bike again to just tear it off.

I finally start moving, but I am angry. angry at the lost time, angry at the stupid obstacles and instead of focusing on riding, I was just fixating on what had happened. Before i know it, ive ridden about 10 miles in a less than impressive pace. A couple strong cycling ladies came up from behind and passed me and realized "oh hey, i can actually ride that fast" and picked it up. I held a good pace, but the ride was exhausting - at least 30 miles of the course are bumpy bumpy chipseal covered in pot holes. between this and a fairly strong headwind, the ride felt long and uncomfortable. I was eating and drinking, but probably not as much as I should have and felt a bonk coming on near the end of the ride. Uh oh, its too late. not enough nutrition means my run will struggle for sure- this is what I get for loosing focus. I come into T2 dreading my usually favorite part of the race. 2:45 on the bike. ugh


T2: yup got lost again. couldn't find my shoe bag. couldn't untie it from the rack. ripped it open instead. whatever. transitions sucked today.

Run: The run course at Austin is a HILLY 3 loop course, this year with a little bit off it "off road"- ie on mud. I was not moving fast. my stomach hurt and I felt dizzy but my lungs felt awesome. My cardiovascular system was not the limiter today. While i wasnt moving fast, i felt like i was running smoothly. There really isnt much to report about this run, other than the fact that I was able to hold it together. The hills were longish, but not super steep so it wasnt actually too bad. but there is no reason my run should have been that slow. I had just set myself up for a bad end of the day and was doing all I could to salvage what I could. at mile 11 i decided to actually look at my garmin and realized I could probably get in under 5:20, so I decided to pick it up as much as I could. I came in to the finish shoot at 5:19 and some change. Close to a PR, but a far cry from what I was hoping for.

This gives me a lot of motivation and focus for 2014. I am really excited to start working with Michelle Leblanc from Outrival Racing. Ill have more on the decision to switch coaching methods and teams later, but I am really confident that Michelle can help me get where I want to. After a couple weeks off Ill start working with Michelle to come up with a racing schedule, and start training for the first major race of 2014, which is IM Brazil. Cant wait to see what 2014 Brings!