Thursday, August 23, 2012

Catching Up on Race Reports part 1: Wildflower

I know, I know.  The race was the first weekend in May and it is almost September.  I guess I let myself get just a wee bit behind.  I have four races to write about which would be way too overwhelmingly tedious for one blog so each one will get its own post, starting with Wildflower Olympic Distance.



I have to say, I love this race!  It was the first major race I attempted following my conversion to a triathlete in 2004. I'll never forgot the shock of seeing over 2000 bikes racked in transition for the first time. It was also my first podium finish at a major triathlon. The race has continued to be good to me ever since. 5 starts, 5 podiums including a win and a 2nd in both the Long Course and the Olympic distance races.  I think the demanding course suits me. I'm not very fast but I am very tenacious, the hills of Wildflower favor the tenacious.

Last year I snagged 2nd in the Olympic as an oldster in the F50-54 despite it being the first time I'd put 6 continuous miles of running together since major foot surgery in December. This year I was a youngster in the F55-59 age group, my feet healthy and my running stronger than it had been in a number of years.  For the first time ever I was starting a race believing I had a very good shot at winning. This was a final speed session 2 weeks out from IM Lanzarote and I had every intention of going HARD.

The swim start is staged on a narrow boat ramp and each wave gets its own hype and the attention of the crowd. I was just getting ready for my first dunk in the warmup period when I heard my name announced as having been runner up last year and one to watch out for in my new age group. So much for anonymity.

I was in a fairly large wave comprised of all women over 50 and Team in Training so I went out hard to try to get clear of the amoeba before the first turn. It worked but then the reality of the length of an Olympic swim sank in. It's a little detail I always forget until I'm in the water looking down the line of buoys to be navigated. The bike and the run are both slightly less than half the distance of a half ironman but the swim is not proportionally scaled back. It is more than three quarters of the half ironman swim.  Not ideal for a weak swimmer like myself. The lake is beautiful to swim in. Perfect water temperature for wetsuit racing and a stunning view every time you turn your head to breathe. I tried to appreciate this while still going "comfortably hard" but still the swim seemed to go on for-ev-er.

With the merging of the waves and a rainbow of swim cap colors around me I had no sense of where in my wave I finished. I thought near the front but at least a handful ahead for sure. T1 is fairly brutal with a substantial uphill run right out of the water, a massive collection of bikes to navigate then a monster hill to climb right out of transition.  My main goals here 1) to locate my bike unerringly 2) to not blow a gasket on either hill.  Both successfully executed.


Swim start/finish: note the hill that needs to be run upon exiting
Spinning up the monster hill that is the first mile of the bike


For me the real racing begins about a mile into the bike, at the top of the monster hill.  This might be a good time to go back in time a few days when I took L'Oiseau, my beloved Kestrel that I've shared over 10,000 miles of road with, for its pre-race tune-up.  My bike guy called me that afternoon with the words "we've got a big problem". Uh oh!  Turns out there was a fatal crack in the carbon from stem to seat post and it would have to be retired. Though Kestrel would replace the frame there was not time to get it before Wildflower (or leaving for Lanzarote!). My wonderful Bike Guy loaned me his wife's Cervelo P3C (not shabby for a loaner) and came in to the shop at 6 AM the morning of my departure for Wildflower to swap parts and fit me on the Cervelo as closely as possible to my Kestrel ride. At the moment I threw my leg over the saddle to start racing I had ridden the bike a grand total of 10 miles the day before. On that pre-race ride "close" still felt different and I'd felt a bit tentative and afraid I wouldn't have the confidence to ride aggressively on Wildflower's challenging bike course.

See the huge crack on the bottom of the top tube.  Poor L'Oiseau!

Turns out my fears were groundless, I totally forgot I was on a strange bike in the heat of the action and I attacked the bike course as assertively as I ever have.  The terrain of this race is challenging enough but there is also the added element of the sheer number of athletes of varying experience and ability to negotiate.  Women are always staged in the last waves at this event making for a lot of cyclists to get past without any rules violations on my part. I approach this as just part of the race challenge and it's a bit like playing a video game, kind of fun in a way.  Continuously bellowing "on your left" I worked my way through the field without too much obstruction to my momentum.  Last year I wasn't even sure I could run 10k so I rode the bike course as if there was no run. This year I thought I could run a solid 10k and I rode the bike course exactly the same, I'd worry about the run when I got there.

Lungs and legs were burning when I hit the top of the climb inside the park with just one wild downhill mile to recover and regroup. I managed to descend without touching the brakes and successfully maintained enough control for a smooth dismount at the bottom of the hill.  My legs were missing when I ran to rack my bike.  Would they show up when I called on them to run the 10k? When I saw no bikes in the racks for my wave I sure hoped so!  I was in the lead and this time I knew it without question.

Wildflower is infamous for its run course and the run course is what I love most about it.  It is a strength runner's course for 5.2 miles with relentless climbing taking you from the lowest to the highest point on the run. Then in the final mile all that elevation is lost on a nosebleed downhill.  I knew I had to have my lead cemented by the top of the hill or risk getting nailed on the descent by a speedster.

The run starts fittingly by climbing a flight of stairs followed by a couple of miles of lakeside rollers to wake you up. 



The stairs that kick off the run course


At the top of the stairs when I hit the road and could really start running my legs decided to come out to play. In fact, they felt great! This was not going to be a survival test it was going to be a 10k race. Around mile 2 the climbing gets serious, either very steep or very long, or both. I felt really strong climbing, able to recreate the feeling of a solid hill workout. Feeling strong leads to feeling positive which leads to feeling strong - a self perpetuating cycle of energy that propelled me to the high point on the course.  


Heading up


Not normally a good downhill runner and a bit fearful of biomechanical trauma I had planned to run the wild downhill mile (same one as the bike course) with caution.  But, no, I threw caution to the wind and let gravity work it's magic.

I knew no woman had come by me at any point on the bike or run so I knew I was first in my AG when I crossed the finish line.  I was ecstatic with my effort and how I felt both on and coming off the bike and during the entire run.  Winning was just icing on the cake helping to perpetuate my love affair with this race. It was a PR on the course; slower swim, equivalent bike and faster run than my previous best. I ran the fairly brutal 10k in 49:05, which was solid proof that my running game was back on. My margin of victory was over twelve minutes and I am now the course record holder for F55-59.




New course record! (No, not what's on the clock :-))