Last weekend I raced my second 70.3 of the year; interestingly enough this was actually the first time I've ever raced two half distances in a season! This kind of makes sense, because doing this race was something of a last minute decision. I was originally planning on doing Sea To Summit again this weekend, but something about the idea of training up for a 95 mile bike ride just wasn't speaking to me. When I got an email in early June that the bike course was actually going to be 105 miles due to road restrictions, my fate was sealed, and I deferred the race. I felt TERRIBLE about it - like a pit of my stomach sinking feeling of utter failure for having not followed through with something that I said I was going to do. I knew it was the right call, but I hated the way it made me feel...and naturally the best way to avoid feelings is to find a way to make them go away. So, enter 70.3 Maine - a race on the same weekend, a race I had always been tangentially interested in doing but the timing never quite worked. I signed up and immediately felt better. A goal, yay!
Except...I think this summer has just been a season where I just was not in the mood to go after goals in any structured way. I had obviously retained fitness from earlier in the summer, and having done Patriot 6 weeks ago I knew I would be fine to *do* the distance, but between recovering from that race, going on vacation for a week, tapering for this race, and then a general lack of motivation in the 3 weeks between, I didn't feel particularly well prepared for Maine, especially given how hilly the bike course was reported to be. All of this led to me feeling more nervous for a race than I have been in awhile - not so much about my ability to do it, but just about how it would feel and how I would perform.
The race was a solo venture, as I wasn't going to drag Andrew along for one night in Maine for a mediocre race, and I headed up to Augusta on Saturday morning. I wasn't actually feeling great the day before the race and thought I might be getting sick, but I've learned by now that sometimes my body actually transforms anxiety into a feeling of actual illness and so I was more or less able to ignore the weirdness. I stopped midway through the drive for a Panera sandwich which happened to be in the same parking lot of Maine's oldest bookstore, so obviously had to stop there and pick up the next book in the fantasy series I'm reading (support indie bookstores!). I made it up to the race venue smoothly and went to go manage the typical Ironman rodeo.
I have such mixed feelings about the Ironman "experience". On the one hand, I love that the hoopla makes the race into such a *thing*, and everything is extremely organized and professional and well put together. On the OTHER hand...sometimes it just feels like more of a production than it needs to be. I was annoyed about having to walk through the extremely crowded merch tent to even GET to check in, there were so many people everywhere, most seemingly oblivious to everything going on around them, and I just feel like this village setting is always where my anxiety rears up and I become convinced that every single person around me is better at this sport than I am. Eventually I got my act together and got my wristband and chip and whatnot (#1718, which I kind of enjoyed as a number, although I only realized later how freaking close I was to having a 14 in my number!). I went and checked my bike into transition (my rack position sucked; waaaaay down at the end furthest away from the bike in/out = maximal time running with the bike) but there was nothing for it. Bheithir tucked in for the night, I went back to the village and decided to calm down with an Athletic beer and bought my customary water bottle (the only merch I will allow myself for "only" a 70.3).
Now it was on to the important part of the day: the Maine Wildlife Park! Because I signed up for the race relatively late, my lodging options were pretty limited and I ended up booking a hotel 45 minutes away. Not desirable in many ways BUT it did have the bonus of being 10 minutes away from this lovely wildlife park! I got an atrociously sugary Dunkin starlight lemonade in the name of carb loading and headed to the park, where I enjoyed a pleasant couple of hours wandering around looking at the fish hatchery and foxes and even a MOOSE which was really enjoyable. I wrapped up with perfect timing to head to my hotel and check in; while the Poland Spring Resort was not exactly convenient to the race it was absolutely LOVELY and honestly was the perfect choice to really make this weekend a little solo vacation. I checked in and immediately took care of the important tasks of packing my race bag and prepping my bottles. With everything for the next day done, I spent the next few hours in splendid relaxation - I visited a statue/memorial to Togo the sled dog, walked around on a beautiful forested trail, had an early dinner of pizza, a beer, and key lime pie outdoors overlooking the golf course, and read for awhile in a pleasant swinging chair - all in all, a GREAT way to spend the evening before the race. I headed back to the room and painted my nails (polka dot jersey themed, in honor of the Tour de France and to psych myself up for the climbing I would be doing!) and then watched the Tour replay before turning out the lights around 8 pm.
3:30 am *might* be my earliest wakeup call ever, but I woke up from a dream in which I had won 5th place in my age group in the race (lol) 8 minutes before my alarm and quite honestly there is no better way to start an early day than that. I really have my triathlon routine down to a science at this point and I was ready and out the door in under 20 minutes from the time I got out of bed.
Two things happened on the way to the race that were excellent omens for the day. The first was that when I walked out of the hotel, I was surprised to find two 20-something guys in golf apparel who appeared to still be drinking from the night before. One of them was like "why are you up so early? Is it early, or is it really late?" And then was like "are you going for a run??" I explained to them that I was doing a triathlon and it was 45 minutes away and started at 6, etc, at which point they proceeded to start hyping me up. "You're gonna CRUSH it! HELL yeah!!" It really put a smile on my face and I was giggling walking to the car as I heard one of them say "wow, I'm just glad I'm not the only person awake right now", lol. Such a good start to the day.
And THEN about 10 minutes into my drive to the race, something ran into the road in front of me....it was not a deer....it was a LYNX (or a bobcat, unsure, but lynx is more exciting so I'm going with that lol). It may not be a moose, but what a COOL animal to see in the wild, and again, an excellent race day omen. The rest of the drive was pretty uneventful with the exception of some of the craziest fog I've ever experienced, but I made it to the venue and got parked in one piece. Had a little dance party to Rumble Slow in the car as is custom, and then we were off to the races...quite LITERALLY, as I don't think I had a single moment to spare in the way the morning went off.
I walked with the sea of people to transition, which turned out to be about 15 minutes away, finishing my Celsius and graham crackers on the way. By the time I got into transition, I literally had 15 minutes to get my life together before heading down towards the swim start, because said swim start was 1.2 miles away. Thank god I've at least done this before, because I was able to get my transition area set up pretty efficiently even with the added annoyance of my row being chosen as the designated "wait in line for the porta potty" row, making space even tighter than it needed to be. No sooner had I finished putting my potatoes in their proper place on my bike when I heard the bagpipes that signaled the parade to the swim start was beginning. I wanted to have time to collect myself and use the bathroom one more time at transition, so I grabbed my stuff and got out of dodge, hoping that my chaotic preparations had left everything where it was supposed to be. About 5 minutes into the walk I realized I still had my car keys in my pocket, so I supposed those were going into my drop bag - never trust, never smile prevents me from ever fully trusting I'm getting my drop bag back, but I wasn't going back at this point so I had to hope for the best!
The walk down with the bagpipes was really cool and despite the added logistics of having a long walk to the start I felt like it really grounded and centered me for the day in a nice way - removed from the chaos of transition I could just breathe and enjoy the calm before the day began, look at the water, and really feel ready. I was mostly just kind of zoning in, but one moment that did stand out was when a guy nearby was talking to his significant other about the current, and how they had said in the athlete briefing that would be stronger near the middle of the river so he was going to try to stay near the middle. This RANDOM woman walking in front of us turned around and was like "NO, there's barely going to be a current, because we're in a DROUGHT" in the most abrupt and unnecessarily brusque way and then proceeded to kind of stalk off. The guy mumbled "bitch!" Under his breath and I turned and was like "....I'm pretty sure there's still gonna be a current...." It was super weird.
I decided to pull off for a bank of porta potties just before the swim start; the line was slow moving as usual but my timing was such that I was still pretty sure I'd be OK. When I finally arrived at the front of the line the man in front of me said "good luck" as he held the door to the porta potty...now I was thinking he meant like, good luck in the race, but then I entered and realized that no, alas, he had meant good luck in the porta potty, because someone had shit EVERYWHERE. How does one shit all over the back wall of a porta potty before the race has even started? I truly could not tell you, but someone managed it. I made it out alive and then put on my wetsuit before finishing the walk down and wandering off to find the bag drop. I gave the bag drop volunteer my thank a volunteer wristband, which I figured would give me good vibes for actually getting my keys back after the race, lol, and then followed a tall man who was slithering through the crowd with excellent speed up towards the front of the 30-35 minutes sign area. Because yes, with a downriver swim, I FINALLY decided to woman up and seed myself where I really am supposed to be!
I found my place in the crowd, took my pre swim Huma, and tried to rub some spit in my goggles - this was one con of the down river swim. I usually like to get in the water a little bit before the start but that was impossible in these circumstances. Literally as soon as I had found my place in line, the cannon went off for the 6 am start - genuinely, I could not have timed it more perfectly if I tried. Within minutes (I started at 6:08) I was approaching the loading area, where we walked down a steep ramp into a little pen on a dock with 4 chutes. Into my chute I went, the beep went off, I awkwardly dove into the water, and this was happening!
Swim - 24:43 (1:17/100) - 9th AG, 65th F, 321st OA
Literally the instant I dove into the water, I became so aware that the random woman on the path was full of SHIT, because oh BOY I could feel the current. It was honestly slightly disconcerting because I could tell I was swimming SO fast. I also could not see a single thing, as my attempts to keep my goggles clear had failed miserably (and I was swimming in fairly old goggles which I should probably know better than to do lol) but luckily I knew that all I had to do was keep swimming in the same direction and eventually I'd find the last buoy lol. With what little I could see, it was an absolutely BEAUTIFUL morning. The sun was just coming up and the water was filled with that perfect golden hour light; we swam under this massive suspension bridge which was really cool, and as always I just found myself appreciating being in the water and getting to spend another day "playing triathlon", as they say.
I guess between there not being any turns and everyone being able to spread out, plus the fact that I actually seeded myself appropriately, this was the least contact I've EVER experienced in a triathlon swim - I think only one person ever hit me and I only got caught in one spot where I felt stuck behind/between people, which was quickly remedied because there was so much room to go around however you liked. I didn't even notice my first 500 yd split because it happened so fast so I was a little confused when I hadn't heard it yet; then I snuck a peek at my watch and it said I was at like 950 yd in 11 MINUTES lol if I could have laughed under water I absolutely would have. No current, you say?! Unless I've really magically evolved as a swimmer I think it's safe to say that yes current lol. Interestingly enough, I almost think that instead of taking it easier and letting the current just help me out, I actually swam HARDER to see how fast I could go - I think that's reflected in how much faster this swim was than my usual pace. Sure, my last half swim was kind of a slow one, but I was 14 MINUTES faster on this course, which is pretty wild.
I think I totally missed the red buoy that indicated the halfway point, and by the last 1/3 of the swim things were going so fast I was honestly worried about missing the turn to the finish because of my inability to see. I was able to follow the crowd eventually and veer out towards the swim finish. That was the easy part out of the way, anyway!
T1 - 5:49
This felt like it took 14 hours lol. I somehow actually moved up from 65th to 50th woman by the time I left transition though, so I guess everyone was in the same boat! First, we had to climb up out of the river on this very steep and slippery dock thing, and THEN there was a full 1/3 mile run over railroad tracks and up a massive hill on the bike path back to transition. Some spectator offered me water "for the journey" and I laughed and took it because like, yes, it WAS a journey! I stopped and took my wetsuit off about halfway up because I figured I'd rather do it on pavement than grass and also because I figured I had to do it at some point so might as well be able to run without my wetsuit? IDK, I doubt it really mattered. I did actually strava this lol, and according to my watch all of this took about 3 minutes so that accounts for the length of this T1. Once I finally got to transition proper things proceeded much faster; in some ways I think the long run might have been a help because it allowed me to clear my head enough after the swim to actually have a brain cell to use in T1 which I usually don't. I ate my go go squeeze and shoveled everything into my suit before running out of transition, trying and failing as always to get my watch on the proper setting because I refuse to use triathlon mode lol. Whatever, got to the mount line with about 7 other people, got up on Bheithir and it was time to see what the bike would bring!
Bike - 2:52:04 (19.5 mph) - 12th AG, 64th F, 538th OA.
Here's my summary of the bike course: I LOVED IT. I had been so fearful of the 3900 ft of elevation that I had forgotten about the fact that I LOVE riding rolling hills (Ironman Wisconsin throwbacks, anyone?). I literally had the best and most joyful ride for that entire 2 hours and 52 minutes, never really able to believe that it was happening at any point in time.
The course started with a little jaunt through town, including riding over the bridge right by the swim start and getting to see all of the athletes in the water and still waiting to start, which was extremely cool but also crazy to think that I was already into the bike course and people still hadn't even started! Rolling starts are wild - they honestly also make things so confusing from a competition standpoint because you truly never know where you stand. I feel like I can always assume if I pass someone on the bike that I am most likely *actually* passing them, but you never know if someone is having a killer race somewhere behind you, never to be seen because you started your swims to far apart. I guess that just drives home the point of just racing your own race and seeing how the standings shake out afterward.
There was a pretty good hill just a couple of miles into the bike course, which I figured was a sign of things to come but also just a good opportunity to wake up the legs. I have realized that I can't really judge anything by how I feel on the first 5-10 miles of a ride after a swim, because I'm gonna feel terrible no matter what, so I just have to go through it and see what's waiting on the other side. I did notice with some dismay that this large hill was the hill that we would be running up near the end of the run course, and while that sounded absolutely terrible (it would be) now was not the time to be thinking about it.
My first 5 mile split came through in the low 16s, and I was like, hey, that's not too bad, because I genuinely was thinking if I could ride 18 mph on this course I was going to be super happy. The funny thing is when I think back on this ride everything blurs together a little bit, but one thing I can tell you is that it was NEVER boring, and I loved that. It was uphill and downhill, uphill and downhill, different gears, changing grades, getting up in the saddle, getting down in the bars - I absolutely loved how mentally engaged I was throughout the entire ride, and I also just felt like there was *always* a downhill coming so my legs never really got fried - there were a few grinding or steeper climbs, but there was always recovery afterward, and that definitely seems to be a stronger suit of my riding style.
I kept finding myself near this man who I kept describing in my head as "chaotic energy" - I really wish I'd gotten his bib # so I could have seen how he ended up doing. This guy was on like...a hybrid bike, and every time we started climbing he would get up out of his saddle and bob and weave all over the damn road, but the thing was, he was doing it FAST and it was just so deeply confusing to me. I eventually caught up to him and passed him for the final time somewhere in the 35-40 mile range but honestly I couldn't even be mad at the guy for being so chaotic because he was riding well, all things considered! There weren't too many women in my vicinity; I was passed by a few early on but for the most part I was in my own little bubble. That was something I actually found notable about this ride - despite it being a much bigger race than I typically do, I NEVER found myself stuck in traffic on the bike. I did get passed at one point by a group of guys in a literal pace line (ugh ugh, where are the refs when you need them) but other than that, the behavior was genuinely so much less dickish than what I experienced in a much smaller field at Patriot. I was just doing my own thing; as is typical I would pass a bunch of people on the climbs and some of them would come back past me on the downhills, although I was pretty proud of how fast and free I was taking many of the descents! At one point I thought to myself "remember who you are" in like...a Lion King ghost Mufasa voice; I think my brain meant it in the sense of: remember that you're doing this because you love it, remember that climbing is what you like to do, remember that you're not like the other girls (lol).
Let's see...my second 5 mile split came in in the low 14s, and I went, huh. I think I literally said to myself "well, some of these segments must be more downhill" and fully assumed I would never see anything that fast again. I thought about Tom's old adage that your watch is only there for your amusement, and I said out loud to myself to stop thinking about my goddamn watch and just ride. The morning fog on the course was SO cool - at a couple of points we dropped into thick patches of it, making everything eerie, and the river was enveloped in mist with only a few little rocks or islands visible. It was so mystical and magical! I always feel like an oddball in the groups I wind up with in these races, gawking at the scenery and saying "wow" out loud, but how can you not appreciate how cool some of this stuff is?!
Somewhere in the 20-25 mile range we crossed this super cool bridge, and again with the mist creating this undercast over the river it was just SO freaking stunning, one of the most unique pieces of scenery I've seen in a race. This was followed up by probably my least favorite section of the course, a narrow out and back on the shittiest road surface of the entire day, and there's nothing like a short out and back that's uphill one way and downhill the other to somehow make a race that previously felt totally spread out feel congested AF. It wasn't particularly fun, but I got through it (including making a 180 degree turn successfully!) and tried to see what other women were around me. There was a woman somewhere nearby that had a kit with some coaching group beginning with a W on it, and my brain decided that it was "Watersports Unlimited". For some reason this was just the funniest thing to me for about 5 miles...oh, let's see if you can catch Watersports Unlimited....why TF are you calling her that, it's obviously not Watersports Unlimited....and so on. This is a glimpse into the ridiculousness of my brain when I'm on my bike, lol.
I think I just kept kind of waiting for the "big" hills to come, and when it sort of became clear that they weren't actually coming and everything I'd been doing was the hills, I started to have even more fun. I hyped up EVERY single spectator I saw, whether it was a lone person sitting in their driveway or a group of people out cheering for someone else. At one point I saw a cow sign and said "I wonder if there are cows?" And then about 30 seconds later there was a huge group of cows...and I screamed "HI COWS!!!!" It was somewhere near the cows where I just was struck with this utter clarity of thought: I am so happy right now. I am having SO much fun. God, this is so much fun. I love this, I love this, I love this. I wasn't feeling that way just because I was riding fast, because I really didn't even know that I was riding fast, I was feeling that way because it was true. I feel like as I continue to improve especially at the bike part of triathlon, I find myself in these groups where it's clear everyone is just taking it so seriously - it's all power numbers and fueling protocols and applying the right watts and so on - and I sometimes feel like I'm this total oddball when I start waving my arms and wooing at the spectators, or singing some stupid song out loud ("In My Head" by Jason Derulo was on repeat for a good chunk of the second half of this bike, don't ask me why lol). I just want to look around and scream at people "but aren't you having fun?? Don't you see how much fun this is??" And I don't know, I wouldn't trade that feeling for a few more mph or a few more places or for anything else, honestly. The fun is the point, the joy is the point, the smiling so hard I actually found my face muscles were cramping and I started worrying about my electrolyte situation - that is the point.
I'm not gonna say everything was perfect, because when is it ever - for some reason my potatoes were just not going down perfectly (probably because I cooked them on Saturday morning and they sat in a hot car all day and then got refrigerated and now were on my bike...) so I stopped eating them after the first couple batches, and for awhile my hip flexors were starting to make some noises but that abated. I think I'm so much better at problem solving now that neither of these things really fazed me - as far as fueling, I just switched over to gels (literally why I brought 3 on the bike instead of just 1) and with my legs I just trusted that things would work themselves out. There was a short but steep hill in the 40s somewhere that forced me down into my jumpy lowest gear, and that was probably the most annoying hill on the course. By the time I got to the 45ish mile mark I had actually started passing people again, which I took as a good indicator that I'd paced myself well over the course. And looking at my splits, I really had! In fact, based on my splits from the race, I actually sped up over the second half of the course, which a) what?! And b) LOL that's awesome. I had also realized at this point that I was going to come in under 3 hours which I was SHOOK by. I kept looking at my watch like...is this real life? Have I really been riding this fast? I didn't feel like I was going anywhere near the red line and I just had this sense that I was measuring out my effort perfectly. Who needs a power meter when you have RPE, am I right?
There were a couple of longer, grinding climbs near the end of the course and I took the opportunity to reel in and eventually pass a woman who I'd had in my sights for some time. It took a few tries - she kept passing me back on the downhills, but each time I'd make up a little more ground until I finally passed her for good. That was another phrase running through my head anytime someone passed me on a downhill: "well, ANYONE can go *down* a hill". I started singing this Celtic song to myself that has a great beat for my cadence when I'm climbing "some say the devil is dead, devil is dead, devil is dead, some say the devil is dead and buried in Killarney", over and over, keeping my legs moving in time with the beat.
The course finally headed back towards town and I truly couldn't believe I was almost done riding. It had gone by SO quickly! There were actually quite a lot of spectators around in Augusta proper so there was plenty of hyping to do. There was one final mean little uphill and then it was all downhill to the finish. I came up to the mount line beaming, having just ridden my fastest 56 miles ever on this course I was so nervous about! Someone had told me before the race that I was going to love the course and I didn't believe them, but they were 100% right. It was beautiful, mentally engaging, challenging but in a way that never beats you down for too long - honestly I would never have guessed the total elevation was as high as it was if I hadn't seen it on strava. And as always, when my expectation was so much scarier than reality turned out to be, the results were simply magical.
T2 - 2:54
OK, this is an ETERNAL T2, but let me explain. My stomach had been rumbling somewhat on the bike and I also had to pee, both of which I knew I needed to take care of before heading out on the run. I racked my bike and actually very efficiently got my shoes changed and grabbed my run stuff, then headed to the porta potty. That was all well and good, except then I could NOT get the zipper on my trisuit on to save my life, and once I finally had that sorted, I realized I still had my hand pump in my trisuit and I didn't feel like running 13 miles with that, so I went back and threw it in my rack, then FINALLY went and headed out of transition, at which point my zipper decided to unzip itself and I had to struggle with it AGAIN! So the first 100 yards of the run I actually was walking trying to fight with my goddamn zipper lol....I would say all of this probably added at least a minute, maybe 90 seconds to my transition. I don't regret using the porta potty because it definitely needed to happen and I'd rather be comfortable running, but it was a bit annoying - although I guess that meant my hydration was on point! I had no further stomach issues for the remainder of the day so I suppose taking care of business was probably worth it. I dropped down to 61st place at this point and I had my work cut out for me, but it was time to head into my domain, the run.
Run - 1:42:26 (7:49/mile) - 7th AG, 32nd F, 304th OA
Quite honestly, I had NO idea how this run was going to go. The furthest I'd run since Patriot was 10 miles, and I hadn't exactly been running high volume, and the bike had gone SO well (too well?) and I really just felt like I was running into a box of mystery. But my legs felt good out of the gate, I had taken care of the bathroom situation, my stomach was back to being rock solid, and so I just figured there was nothing to do but trust that my legs knew how to do this and that it would probably get hard at some point, but that I'd make it through.
The run starts off with a random short but steep incline which felt like trash before sending you down to the river path where the majority of the course took place. I will admit that I had not studied the run course map particularly well so all I knew was that there were 2 out and backs (but I had no idea how long either of them were) and a massive hill around mile 10. The bike path was pleasant and shady and I feel like these types of trails put me in a mindset to just cruise, and I quickly found myself rolling along at a pace that felt sustainable. I was SHOCKED when I glanced down at my watch to discover that said pace was 7:30! It should probably be noted that I hadn't run a single mile at that pace in months, lol. Oh well, I knew that the path rolled slightly downhill on this stretch so I figured I might as well enjoy life while I had the opportunity to enjoy it! I once again stuck to my strategy on the run of keeping my watch in a view where I can only see the mile split I'm in and taking manual splits at every marker, which has the benefit of keeping me mentally engaged as well as staying in the mile I'm in and not getting too caught up in the sum of the time. All very solid mental strategies for me!
We ran through a little town area and then back onto the path, shepherded by police crossing guards who I made a point to thank, because it must be a pain in the ass telling cars they have to stop all day long. The next section of the out was a bit more rolling in nature, with some short but noticeable ups and downs. The sun was also becoming more noticeable; while the day was about as good as you could get for the end of July with a high of 80 and no humidity, we were definitely reaching the point in the morning where the strength of the sun could be felt. I started taking ice and dumping water on myself pretty early, even if it felt ridicuous in relatively moderate temperatures, because you know what you gotta know thyself and what I know is that even moderate heat can put me in a bad way quickly. One of the benefits of these big Ironman branded races has got to be the aid stations - they were massive, well stocked, so well organized, and even when I completely biffed my first handoff ("oh nooooo" I said as I completely butter fingered a full cup of electrolytes at one point) I was still able to get what I needed before the aid station came to an end.
It was around this point when I started making more frequent passes and started looking for women ahead to set my sights on and try to run down. While people may turn into kind of assholes on the bike course, most people on the run are SO nice. I tried to give every woman I passed some encouragement (forget the men, there were too many of them anyway) and I always got some back in return - there's always solidarity between the women out there especially, because there are so few of us in comparison to the greater field! With the out and back situation I was also able to get an idea of where I stood in the overall field, and while I stopped counting after 25 women coming back ahead of me I could tell I was definitely doing OK for myself. There were a few great spectators on this section, including 2 girls standing up on the train tracks having a dance party and a group bumping some latin beats right near the turnaround.
We turned around at mile 4.5, and I fully expected that as we were now technically running uphill that I would immediately feel worse. While my pace slowed slightly (we were now in the high 7:30s) the effort still felt totally fine - in fact, as the miles went by I somehow felt like I was becoming MORE locked in. Not so locked in that I didn't have a dance party with the train track girls, who were blasting Kesha on my way back past them, but really feeling like I was in a flow with my legs. The aid stations seemed to be appearing just when I needed them, and I felt like I was managing my fueling and hydration well.
There was a nice downhill back to the intersection and then I was back out in the "town" area with spectators aplenty, who were really great and hyping me up, especially when I would smile and whoop back at them! In this section I came up upon another woman who I recognized as the mean woman from the walk to the swim start. Naturally there was only one thing to do, and that was to slay her! Unfortunately for the caricature of her I'd created in my mind, she was actually really nice and supportive when I passed her, so maybe she was just having a bad morning, or the challenge of the day had softened her rough edges, lol. I did get the beginnings of a quad cramp in this area, which wasn't pleasant, but I managed to alter my stride a bit for a few yards and made a point to grab electrolytes at the next aid station, and it completely disappeared. Man, not fucking up your nutrition and hydration really is a magical thing.
That mission accomplished, I got back to the grind. I threw a BIG handful of ice into my suit at the mile 7 aid station, which awkwardly sloshed around in my butt region for a few miles but ultimately did it's job of keeping me cool. I couldn't believe how strong I was still feeling - like, it definitely wasn't easy, I was definitely warm, and the prospect of getting to stop running was becoming increasingly appealing, but it was primarily a mental battle, and it was a battle that I was winning. I also couldn't believe that I still wasn't slowing down - I was just staying locked in to my pace, rolling on the river, counting down the miles to go.
It felt like a victory to cross the point at which I was heading into a new out and back, and at this point it was fairly easy to break things down: flat mile, awful hill, downhill, flattish mile, finish. I picked up a friend for about a quarter mile here who had an AMAZING cheering section - she must have been Canadian, as her friends were going absolutely insane and screaming in French when they saw her - and I got to take advantage of the energy too! I asked if they were her friends and she somewhat apologetically said "yeah...they're a little crazy..." And I was like OMG no, I absolutely love it!! Anyone who is willing to get super hyped as a spectator is my kind of friend! We encouraged each other and ran together for a little while longer before I pulled ahead; it was a nice boost heading into the final stretch of the course.
The section along the river back to the swim start was fine; it was kind of crazy thinking about how I had already walked down this path this morning, then swam back down the river, then rode my bike for almost 3 hours, and now here I was, back again. There was a nice downhill through the town AND THEN. I knew it was coming, because I'd done it on the bike course, but OH MY GOD this hill was so much worse than I even could have imagined. It felt like running directly into a brick wall. The first segment was steep; then the grade lessened somewhat but continued steadily uphill for an ENTIRE MILE. The sun was beating down, my legs were finally starting to express their disinterest in the situation, and I just wanted to diiiiiiiie. I definitely yelled a few choice words aloud including "Jesus Christ", "who the hell did this", and "this is actually cruel" lol. I could feel my heart rate going through the ceiling and I did finally end up taking a couple of short walk breaks, just 10 seconds each or so, to try to get things back under control. The fact that I somehow got through this mile in just over 8 minutes is incredible to me, because it felt like it took about 15.
I kept telling myself that eventually I would get to run down the hill, and it was *better* going downhill, but unfortunately the sustained climb had been a total gut punch to my legs and I could tell the last couple of miles were just going to be about hanging on for dear life. Thankfully, there were only 2 miles to go which was survivable under even the worst circumstances, and I was still moving decently, I could just tell that my pace had dropped from 7:40s to 8:10s in the span of a mile. I reaaaally started wanting to take more walk breaks and I was playing mental games with myself to try not to - beyond the usual "don't be a wuss, you don't need to walk with 2 miles to go". For example, I started singing "A Few of Your Own" in my head and was like if I can sing the whole song without getting distracted, I can take a walk break (that literally never happens lol, so this was a smart mental game!) The spectators were pretty great around the bike path, and there were some cute little kids who I couldn't help but high five even in my exhausted state. A random man nearby was cheering for me and said something like "YES, that's right! High fiving those kids really shows your character!! Let's go!!" Which kind of made me laugh because that seemed a little dramatic, but sure, whatever works!
The uphill to the finish line was every bit as horrible as I had envisioned - it felt monstrously steep, and I'm ashamed to admit that I had to walk a little bit (my Strava also shamed me for this when it informed me that I ran up the hill faster barefoot and in my wetsuit in T1 than I did during the run component of the race....LOL) but once I got over the hump I found the final gear and kicked it in to the finish line. I genuninely hadn't a clue as to what my time was going to be, other than knowing it wasn't going to be under 5 hours, so I was happy to see the clock still in the 5:0x when I crossed the finish line! I don't even think I put my arms up or anything - I may have smiled through the vast majority of the race, but I was finally, totally spent. I knew that I had truly given my best possible effort with what I had to offer on the day, and I was BEYOND proud of that.
After wandering around for awhile perseverating on where the drop bags (and my car keys) were, I made my way back into transition to get my phone and cowbell (why, yes I CAME PREPARED) so that I could go back out on the course and do my favorite thing of all, which is to cheer after I'm done racing! I did feel kind of awful because some woman was literally coming into transition off the bike while I was just doodling around getting my life together and she looked at me and said "OMG, you're DONE already?!" I basically just tried to start hyping her up but I'm sure there is something demoralizing about seeing people who are finished with the race when you still have a half marathon to go.
I took my cowbell and walked down to the bike path where I could see athletes coming in both directions, and so I could look for my friend John, who was racing to validate his Kona slot for October. My brain was a little addled because I spent a few minutes being like "how will I find John?" before recalling that I possessed a phone and a tracker and could actually see where he was. It worked out perfectly - about 5 minutes after I got to my shady cheering spot, he appeared and I was able to shout him out on his way to the finish line! Woo! I then spent the next hour or so with my cowbell and my techno music jamming out and giving everyone the full hype train A-Z experience. I did get some more goggle eyed looks about the fact that I had already finished the race, which, honestly, fair. I don't see anyone else out here cheering who just did the race! And you know what? That's the best part. Sometimes in hindsight I look at my performances at these races and I wish I could be just a little bit further up in the field - top 5 in my age group always seems just slightly out of reach. But then I think to myself, are those girls going back out on the course and cheering for other athletes after they race? Are they smiling through the entire bike ride and hyping up spectators and saying hi to cows? And beyond that, are they working a demanding part time job in addition to their demanding full time job and still finding time to cook dinner every night and go out with their husband and spend time with their friends, in addition to training? Somehow, I doubt it. I think my excitement and joy and hype are my superpowers, and if that means I lose a few watts on the bike or a few places in the overall standings? So be it. I wouldn't trade the athlete I am for the world.
I finally realized that I was STARVING, having finished around 11:30 and not eaten anything for 2 hours (incredible recovery strategy, naturally) and so decided to wander back up to transition and see if there was any food afoot. Turns out I had totally missed the athlete food area and so was at least able to eat a giant bin of potato salad, possibly the most random post race food I have ever received, before beginning the journey back to my car. I would have loved to stay out until the very last athletes, but alas, a 3 hour journey back to Boston awaited.
All in all, I really enjoyed this race and would definitely race it again in the future - the downriver swim is a blast, the bike is one of my favorite courses of all time, and the run is *fair* even if it does include the meanest hill in the history of hills. 35-39 was a tough age group this year (my time would have put me 5th-6th in all of the surrounding age groups); whether aging up into 40-44 next year will be better or worse remains to be seen! What I think I can say for sure is that if I can perform like these on really shitty training, I think it might be time to start considering making a real push for sub 5/a 70.3 worlds qualifier. The half is definitely my favorite and I also think my strongest distance, and while I'm not done with the full just yet (I still need another stab at IMWI on the tri bike!) I think the half is where my strengths lie. I've enjoyed this season of relative leisure, but my sense is that it might just be the pull back before the slingshot that sends me even further...or at least that's what I'd like to hope. :)
Ironman 70.3 Maine
5:07:53
10/50 AG, 38/599 F, 346/2009 OA
