California 70.3 Race Report

I've kind of been neglecting my blog lately. I ran a couple of half marathons this winter that I intended to write about (still might), but otherwise nothing really motivated my inner story teller until my first triathlon of the year last month.

I entered this race with the idea that it would serve to blow the rust out of my triathlon racing pipes, which have not been used since 9/11 in Vegas. I spent the winter focusing on rebuilding my running base which was severely undermined last year following major foot surgery. Then the plan was to shift the focus to biking and swimming in March, but life has a way of happening while you are making plans. First it was work and weather that undermined my goals. 12+ hour workdays and lots of rain limited my bike time. Afore mentioned work hours limited my pool time as well.

Then I lost my mother. On March 18th my brother called to say my Mom, who has been struggling with corticobasilar syndrome for several years, had stopped taking food and liquid and was deteriorating suddenly and quickly. She was being put into hospice care. I dropped everything to go to Chicago to be at her side. It was agonizing watching her slowly severe her physical ties to life, but I held her hand and helped keep a vigil over her until she passed away 5 days later. I got back home just 5 days before the race and, quite honestly, couldn't even fathom attempting to race. I came very close to bailing out. But then a voice deep in my brain whispered that perhaps racing would be spiritually healing so why not give it a try.

When I arrived in Oceanside I had not been on my bike or in a pool for 2 weeks. Tapering is one thing, but it is not possible to step down when you have not yet climbed the first step. I could only hope that my years of endurance training and racing, and my winter of running would carry me through. I arrived the morning before the race and quickly chewed through the day getting my race packet, checking into the hotel and building my bike. I also managed to find a local “Y” with a beautiful pool so I could make sure I remembered how to swim (it felt strange but I did not drown) and managed to get hopelessly lost on a 15 minute (turned 30 minute) bike ride to make sure I could still ride a bike and that L’Oiseau survived packing, the airline, unpacking and reassembly. Just enough time remained in the day to get everything race ready then I settled in for a fitful night’s sleep.

I usually sleep well the night before a race but this time...not so much. Quite frankly I was terrified of the swim portion of this race. I did the event in ’05, a particularly cold year. The water that year was 52 degrees and I had never experienced a truly cold water swim. The race allows no pre-swimming or warm-up swimming. When the wave before yours goes you have 3 minutes to get into the water and swim 25 yards to the start. I will never forget the shock of plunging into that water. I could not draw in a breath and I am certain my heart stopped. By the time the horn sounded I was in a post arrest state of rapid breathing and racing heart, suffering from the world’s worst “ice cream headache” and unable to feel my hands or feet. I have never gotten over the PTSD from that moment and have a phobia of cold water ever since. It took me 7 years to muster up the courage to try to take that plunge again. To add to this angst I had seen a National Weather Service severe weather alert warning about unusually high surf for the weekend. The alert included a warning to stay away from jetties as waves could be high enough to break over the jetties and sweep unsuspecting folks out to sea. The swim for this race is in a boat harbor but includes a stretch right next to…you guessed it…a jetty that protects the harbor from the open sea. All night I had nightmares about a huge rogue wave crashing over that jetty as a group of triathletes is swimming alongside. Naturally, I am among that group of triathletes.

Thankfully, the tortured night was ended early by my 3:45 wakeup call. One of the huge motivators in my decision to do this race in the first place, as well as my decision to still do it so soon after losing my Mom, was the fact that my former team-mate and forever friend, Beth Shutt, would be making it her debut as a PROFESSIONAL TRIATHLETE!!! No way was I going to miss her first pro race. My troubles and fears evaporated when I saw her heading to the water for the pro start and she ran over and we got to give each other a good luck hug. My pre-race routine and ritual went smoothly and before I had time to really think about it I was lined up with my wave watching the wave before ours swim away. Despite a huge mental pause I plunged into the water without hesitation. This time I knew what to expect and it didn’t seem quite so bad (plus the water was a whole 5 degrees warmer than in ’05). This time I had my breathing and heartbeat under control when the horn sounded.

I felt like I swam strongly, for the most part, but it was a strong swim “with complications”. The first came when I was swimming alongside the jetty in the roughest water on the course. It was not the rogue wave I’d had nightmares about but instead a rogue foot that suddenly whipped out into the dreaded breaststroke kick. The heel slammed directly into my right eye driving the goggle painfully into my eye socket before knocking it off. I was in pain and blinded somewhere near the turn for home. I felt, rather than saw the next buoy and made the turn. Then I became aware of the fact that one of the kayakers was yelling at me and paddling swiftly in my direction. He kept waving and pointing and it slowly dawned on me that he was sending me back from where I came. I had turned too soon and swum off course. I took that moment to fix my goggles then retraced my strokes to get back on course where I’d gone astray. The next complication was a faster swimmer from the wave behind me. He started hitting my feet as he overtook me…no problem. But then, rather than simply pass (there was plenty of room), for some reason he felt the need to grab me by the ankle and yank me back. Once, an annoyance. Twice, totally unnecessary. Three times, downright unsportsmanlike. The fourth time, now you are pissing me off (hard to do!). So I kicked hard to shake him loose on the fourth grab. He came loose but my calf cramped visciously. My reward for losing my temper ;-). I had to limp in the last 200 meters with my left leg dragging painfully and uselessly behind me. Despite the complications I managed to come out of the water in 38:xx, only a couple of minutes off what would be a really good swim for me.

I hobbled through T1 on cramping calf. Expertly found my bike in the enormous transition then slipped into total rookie mode. My lack of recent racing was comically obvious as I fumbled and bumbled in transition. After forever and a day I finally made the switch and raced toward the bike mount line. I happened to glance down at my bike and saw my race belt and number flapping wildly from the spot where I had left them at 6:00 AM, hanging from my aerobars. I had to laugh out loud at this mistake. Putting on a number belt is a two handed task so I had to come to a dead stop and lean my bike against me to put it on. It’s likely I annoyed at least a couple of athletes who might have been running behind me.

Finally pulled together enough to exit T1

The morning marine layer was heavy and there was a light drizzle so the road surface was quite wet. For some reason there was also a lot of sand and mud on the roads. I saw a number of athletes slide out on the corners early in the race. I’ve already broken both shoulders and have no interest in going through that again. I have a very full and fun season planned for this year. This was enough for me to dial things back and ride a bit conservatively to make sure I kept the rubber side down. As the ride progressed I appreciated that the conservative riding was also proving to be a very good idea because of my lack of a solid bike base. I’d forgotten that there were some substantial hills on the backside of the course and my legs quickly reminded me that I’d done only one ride longer than 3 hours all year. I seriously could have used a more forgiving choice of gears on those climbs! Overall the ride went well and I was pleased with my 2:50.06 bike split in my current state of fitness, on that course, on slick roads.

Climbing one of the big'uns in too much gear

L'Oiseau takes flight

I was really looking forward to the run. My running had been off all of last year following some major foot surgery and over the winter I’d finally had some time to rebuild my run base. The big question mark, would I have enough left after doing the swim and bike on minimalist training to execute on the run? At the end of the day this was going to be my longest “workout” since last October and also, by far, my most intense.

It did not start perfectly. I did execute a perfect dismount (Phew! Didn’t practice.). But as soon as I started running down the bike racks my lower back went into spasms. Perhaps because I haven't ridden hard in my aerobars very much this year? I feared I might not be able to get fully vertical in time to start the run but I did. The run course is new this year. It features a convoluted first two miles that are narrow and congested with runners going both directions. Those first two miles also feature a number of tight turns and a few very short but very steep hills that were a bit like running stadium steps. None of these conducive to loosening up a tight lower back. Once I got out onto the straight road beyond mile two I began to feel a bit better. The back spasms subsided and my stride normalized. Conditions were perfect for running and, unlike the last time I did this race, I could actually feel my feet (though I’m not sure this was actually a good thing).

Clicking off the miles

I settled into a groove and the miles clicked by. The rhythm was disrupted only at the start of the second loop when I had to negotiate the U turns, switchbacks and stadium steps again but once through this I found my zone again. Age group ace Kim Rouse was racing in my AG. She typically competes in a different zip code than me when we are racing the same course so I assumed I was “racing” for second place. Second would be really cool so I did not let myself get complacent and I kept relentlessly pushing myself on the run. A little past the 11 mile mark, smelling the barn, I heard some fast feet closing on me, then watched a lithe gazelle fly by as if I was standing still. I immediately recognized the form and stride of Kim. Are you kidding me? Was I actually in the lead to this point?? I was shocked and thrilled at the same time. I knew there was no way I could run with her but I could try to see how close I could stay. I dug in and chased and even though I watched her steadily pull away I could still see her until the split between the start of loop 2 and the path to the finish line. I was just a bit over a minute behind her at the finish, that is the same zip code! She was just beyond the finish chute to give me a hug when I finished.

What chasing Kim Rouse will do to you :-)

My run time was 1:52. Though in my running days I was a 1:30-1:35 half marathoner, I took up triathlon after I was forced to give up running due to chronic injuries and I have only gone faster than 1:52 in a half ironman once. This run course was not particularly easy and I had not done anything longer than 4 hours in training so I feel really, really good about that run.

I floated around in a euphoric fog the rest of the afternoon. Caught up with Beth who had a stellar pro debut, just missing the top 10 by 18 seconds after popping off an amazing 1:26 run. The skies opened up that night…strong wind, torrential downpours. We had caught a lucky weather window for the race. The next day I headed down to Carlsbad and got to watch the elite races at the Carlsbad 5000. That was art in motion! Followed this up with a yummy breakfast and good hang out time with Beth and her friend and photographer extraordinaire Marit Chrisloch-Lauterbach (you can check out some of her work at http://unconventionalview.wordpress.com/2012/04/07/how-long-has-it-been/).

So in the final assessment I am so glad I decided to go to Oceanside and it was healing for my spirit.