Ironman CDA 2012

For those who know how this race unfolded for me last year, I was coming back with some unfinished business to handle. The big goal was Kona, although I was hoping to win my age group and improve on my top 10 overall amateur finish. Only one of those 3 things happened this year, and thankfully it was the most important one!

Jim graciously came out as my sherpa again this year and we stayed at a great bed and breakfast that was recommended to us by a fellow triathlete, Alex Garcia. We were 1 block from the race start and in a house amongst friends and fellow athletes. I couldn’t have asked for a better set up.

Race morning it seemed that the storm we were expecting was going to blow over and we would have great conditions for the race. The water temperature was still freezing (around 55 degrees) but warmer than last year so I wasn’t concerned.

A funny thing happened as I stepped onto the sand to line up for the start. I looked at the spectators, volunteers and all of the kayaks waiting for us on the lake and I started to get choked up! I NEVER cry at anything (funerals, weddings, movies, nothing ever gets me). What was happening? I was just overcome with this feeling of how much I love racing. It was amazing and it totally validated all of the pain, sacrifice, time and money spent. I do it all because I love it!

When the gun went off I had a good clean start and was relieved thinking I had managed a pretty pain-free entry. Boy was I wrong. Not only did the typical mass-start melee ensue but we were swimming against horrible current, chop and wind. Every time I tried to breath I got a mouthful of water. I literally stopped 7 times before the first buoy b/c I was swallowing so much water. This is not the type of swim performance that wins races. I was trying not to panic and actually had to have a few talks with myself to pull it together. Soon the nausea started to set in from the chop and the amount of water I was swallowing. After rounding the first turn buoy I threw up! WTH?? That’s certainly a new one for me! As we exited the water to start the second loop I was afraid to check my split given how horrible things had gone. I was surprised to see 32 minutes. Not fast but not horrible, all things considered. My goal was 1:05 and this split meant that was still possible, or so I thought. The second loop proved to be worse than the first. Although I was no longer battling the masses, the current and chop had picked up significantly. I was swallowing huge amounts of water and couldn’t sight due to the waves that were now rolling in. I got off course a little on the way into the finish that cost me precious time, which was obvious in my final split of 1:08. Ouch. I knew everyone had to deal with the rough conditions, so I sucked it up and headed to T1.

The first part of the bike was cold and raining. Not the best thing after spending over an hour in 55-degree water. But I was happy to be on my bike and have 1 leg of the race behind me. Things were going well until roughly mile 25 when the straw to my speedfil slipped out of position, wrapping through my spoke and around my skewer! Thankfully I was going uphill at the time so I was able to quickly clip out before crashing. Had I been going any faster it would have been a disaster. Although I was pissed that I had to stop I figured I would fix it and be on my way. However, the neoprene part of the straw was wrapped so tightly in my skewer I couldn’t get it out. I stood there for what seemed like an eternity trying to rip that stupid thing out. I tried to keep my cool but I couldn’t believe this was happening. Eventually I got it out and was back on my way. I decided I shouldn’t try to catch up to the people I was with before or I might blow up and pay for it later. I was also afraid of drinking any water, as I didn’t want the straw to slip again and cause a more serious problem, so I tucked the end of the straw into my bento box to try to keep it in place.  I had been taking salt every 20 minutes and it was time for my next dose but as I opened my bento box to get a salt pill that stupid straw flicked my bag of salt into the air and it was gone. OMG. What else is going to go wrong?  Luckily I had put extra salt in my special needs bag and even though I planned on not stopping at special needs, at least I knew I could get more salt!

The rest of the first loop went smoothly and I clocked in right around my goal time of 2:45 (hoping for a 5:30 bike split). The head wind had picked up a lot on the second loop and I knew I was slowing down. Around mile 80 I suddenly got super nauseous again. I felt like my nutrition was spot on so I attributed it to all of the lake water I had swallowed earlier. From miles 80-92 I was miserable!! I had to back way off my power as I debated whether I should puke and get it over with or try to figure out how to stop it. I chose the later and  began to ride slower, take in more water and hope for the best. Around mile 92 or so I magically felt better and instantly was able to increase my power back to my goal wattage; however the time I had lost was significant. Final bike split was 5:45. My big limiter is still the bike. No matter how much stronger I seem to get in training I have never had a good bike split in a race. It’s so frustrating!!! Gotta figure this out.

Heading onto the run I knew I had to make up time. The girl who would eventually take 2^nd place BLEW past me at mile 75 so I knew she had a huge gap on me. Coming out of T2 there was another girl (in a different AG) about 200 yards ahead. I caught her pretty quickly and the 2 of us ran the next 6 miles together. She turned out to be great company and motivation and since we were 2 of only a few girls on the course and were running side-by-side the spectators were going crazy. We got so much motivation from the crowd it was great! We were running faster than my goal pace (averaging about 7:15-7:20/mile) but I had decided I was just going to go fast while I felt good and hope I didn’t blow up later. I was feeling the best I had ever felt coming off the bike until mile 12-13. Then I just got tired. Nothing hurt and my nutrition was fine I was just plain tired. I decided to try drinking some coke. This was risky b/c I never drink soda in real life and I am really sensitive to caffeine but it worked! The combo of coke and water was like a magic pill. All of a sudden my pace was back and I was no longer considering giving up triathlon (during miles 12-15 I had decided triathlons were dumb and this was going to be my last). Around mile 17 Jim yelled at me and told me to pick it up b/c this was the moment I had been training for and I couldn’t let it slip away. It really helped get me back into a competitive mindset. The last half mile of this course is like non-other. Not only is it a downhill finish but also it is through the main drag of downtown and the streets are lined with spectators on their feet, at local bars, and in the stands. Coming down Sherman Way there were 3 other guys and myself. I passed 2 of them and then I was just enjoying the last few minutes of the race. At that point a woman seated at a bar along the course yelled, “ Go girl, pass that guy.” It may have been bad sportsmanship on my part but I took off. As I passed him the crowd erupted and started going crazy. It was hysterical. Who knew the last few minutes of a 140-mile race could be so fun? I crossed the finish line all smiles not knowing how I had placed but knowing that I had done the best I could do on that day. It wasn’t until I saw Jim a few minutes later that I found out I placed 3^rd and possibly had a Kona slot. At that point it was just icing on the cake. That night we went back to the finish line around 10:30 and stayed till midnight to watch the last finishers come through. It was a magical thing to witness and I wish I hadn’t waited all of these years to experience it. The vibe and the emotions there were unlike anything else. It was truly a great end to a great day.

Of course the looming question was Kona. I wouldn’t officially know till the morning if I was in. I felt like I had a good shot since there were 4 slots last year but they also decreased the total number of slots this year from 75-50. It was a total guessing game and I didn’t want to play. I just waited till 9am Monday morning and solemnly approached the award area to see the final results. I almost threw up (again) when I saw 3 spots for my division! I made it! I really didn’t want to get a roll down slot, as I wanted to feel like I had earned the spot 100%. In the end I didn’t win and my overall placement was lower than last year but I achieved the big goal!

I have a lot of work to do between now and October and the thought of doing another Ironman this year is frightening. I have to figure out a lot of things in the next few months (mainly why I still can’t ride a bike fast) but I know I can do it with the help of my coach, Joanna Zeiger.  I owe her a huge thank you for all of the time and effort she has put into coaching me, it has certainly paid off! I would also like to thank my newest sponsor, TriBike Transport for making the logistics of racing a lot easier this year. I hope I never have to take my bike on a plane again!

Kryptonite

I am going to try not to make this report too long but I feel like there is so much to say. As much as I would rather just write about all of the fun things we did while in Kona (paddle boarding, hiking, etc.) I have to write about the race that I would rather forget! I titled this blog Kryptonite because as my coach Joanna said after the race, “wind is my kryptonite.” For years I have tried to improve my ability to conquer the wind but the race on Saturday was proof that I have a long way to go. I know that Kona is historically windy but the last few years the weather has been great at the Honu 70.3. I knew I would battle a little wind but I thought I would take my chances and hopefully come out on top. I was wrong.

When we landed in Kona I was almost literally blown away by the wind. It was so intense that at lunch my meal blew off the table. When Jim and I took our bikes out on the course the day before the race I knew I was in trouble when I was pushing 5-10 watts above my goal wattage and only going 13 mph (and this wasn’t even the windy part of the course). 

Race morning we woke up at 4am to find that the wind was already gusting.  I was hoping the wind wouldn’t pick up till later in the morning buying us a few hours of reprieve. Again I was wrong.

The transition area was a “clean” transition meaning everything had to be in your bag at all times, which was probably a good thing since things kept blowing away (including my water bottle). I got in my normal warm up and headed down to the water. As I tried to scope out the course I realized it looked different than I had thought. I was unsure of the route so I started asking strangers what the course was. Every person I asked gave me a different answer-not a good sign. Before I knew it the horn sounded and we were off. This swim was VIOLENT! It’s been a long time since I have gotten that beat up in a swim and it didn’t let up till at least the 2^nd buoy. At this point the chop kicked up and it seemed like I was getting a mouth full of water every time I tried to breath. Despite the conditions I felt like I was swimming strong. Then something weird happened… after rounding a buoy I saw people to my right swimming into shore and a few people to my left swimming out farther to the left. Which way do I go? A lifeguard on a paddleboard started blowing his whistle and telling everyone who was heading into shore that there was one more buoy they had to swim out to before heading in. Most people didn’t listen and just kept going. I was a little thrown and wanted to follow the mass of people but instead I asked the guy, “which way do I go?”

He replied that we had to keep heading out so out I went with just a few others. This really pissed me off as I saw all of these people cutting the course. After all of that drama I was sure my swim time was going to be horrific, not to mention this was only my 2^nd non-wetsuit race and the first one was no bueno. I told myself if I could be under 35 minutes I would be ok. I was stoked to see 31 minutes on my watch as I headed up to T1. When I got to my rack everyone was talking about the crazy swim. The girl next to me said, “yeah I didn’t even swim out to that last buoy.” AWESOME.

Now I was worried that the gains I made in the swim would be diminished by all of the cheaters! Oh well, time to move on and get on the bike.

This is when the kryptonite comes into play. The first few miles were an out and back and as I saw the pros coming back from the turnaround I could tell the wind was nasty (even Lance looked like he was fighting as he road super fast). The next 30 minutes or so were tough but totally manageable. I assumed that’s what the whole ride was going to be like, but soon the cross winds started gusting and it was unlike anything I have ever felt or seen. A girl in front of me blew across both lanes of traffic and almost over the edge. I didn’t want that to be me. I was holding on for dear life just fighting to keep my bike upright. This is the stuff that freaks me out. My power was all over the place but at that point I wasn’t that concerned- I just didn’t want to crash. Then as a guy passed me I felt this light sprinkle. I assumed he had just peed and I was getting sprayed. Nope. It was rain. It proceeded to rain for about the next hour making the roads slick but keeping then temperature cool. It was around this point that a huge gust came and lifted by butt right off my seat. I swear it was a good 10 seconds before I made contact with the seat again. WTH?? I was so happy to finish the climb to Hawi and hit the turn around. It felt like heaven for about 10 minutes but then the crosswind was back. This time since we were going down the Queen K I was moving much faster, around 38-40 mph, so the thought of crashing was a little scarier. This is when I had to have a little conversation with myself, swallow my fear and just go with it. I had a few guys tell me they were impressed I was keeping that bike upright and I felt the same way. I didn’t hold back and even though I had lost a lot of time and energy in the wind I gained some confidence.

Coming into T2 I was happy to get off my bike, assuming the wind wouldn’t be as much of a factor on the run. Again, I was wrong. It took awhile for my Garmin to find a signal but once it did I saw that I was running about a 6:35 pace which was right within my goal time. Around mile 3 I turned and hit the same wind that plagued me on the bike. I was going nowhere. My friend Stacey came by me around this time and gave me a few encouraging words. She has earned a Kona spot at this race the last few years so I knew if I could just stay with her for the next 10 miles I could squeak out a good run.  That lasted maybe all of 20 seconds. Stacey pulled away as I watched in amazement, as the wind seemed to not slow her down at all. That’s when I got frustrated. I didn’t understand why the wind was crippling me so badly. I was literally stumbling and falling. Cardiovascularly  I felt fine I just couldn’t muscle through the wind. This agony continued until about mile 7-8 and then things started looking up. At mile 10 I hit the long out and back stretch on a desolate, dusty road and that’s when I saw how far back I was. I counted girl after girl who was ahead of me. Crapola. I didn’t realize things were that bad! The last 3 miles I picked up the pace and started running a few folks down. The last mile I ran as fast as I could (I even lost my favorite hat as the stupid wind took it right off my head). I kept looking over my shoulder to make sure I didn’t get punked in the finisher chute again but let’s be honest-all of my competition had already crossed the line. As soon as I finished I saw Jim whose first words were, “what happened to your hat?” We exchanged war stories as we headed to the beer garden and BBQ area. I have to say this was the nicest finish area of any race. Perched right along side the ocean on the grounds of a beautiful hotel. I was just happy to be done, in one piece and now relaxing in Hawaii.

At the end of the day I was 7^th in my division and 13^th overall amateur. Not stats I am proud of at all. But I learned a lot and I didn’t crash so I will just chalk it up to another race under my belt. I have to focus on my “A” race of the season, which is less than 3 weeks away. I am praying for no wind! J