Wednesday, January 3, 2024

2023 Year In Review: Stand

I'm a little late to this one - but with the way 2023 shook out, we needed to make sure of a few things - first, that the damned year actually ended, and then, to take a few deep breaths to process it.  

Maybe more than a few.  I think its de rigeur to look back at the past year and think - wow.  What the hell.  I know I did it looking back at 2022, and as I look back at that year, I had some amazing highs and lows that I thought 2023 couldn't even come close to the magnitude of.

Hold my beer, said 2023.  And as I read through my recap of 2022, at the lessons learned, I smiled, teared up and thought - if only you knew what the next year would bring.  If only - you knew.  The lines I penned one year ago: 

Going into 2023, I've reminded myself to keep my head up, and my mind open - as you absolutely never know who or what is going to make a difference in your life. Or what that might look like.

That was so damned spot on, I never would have guessed.  There are some people that I grew with from 2022.  Some that I left in 2022.  Some of them that left last year - came back.  And some in full force - ones I never expected.  And some people that showed up in 2023 that I never would have imagined have found a deep spot in my heart. You just never know what path your life is going to take.

And this year,  the people that showed up in my life - saved it.  2023, without a doubt, has been the wildest ride I have ever been on - I accomplished things I never dreamed I would, and was brought to the lowest of lows by life at the same time.  There have been many days where I wasn't sure I was going to make it, to be honest.  By by the grace of some amazing people, and a sheer stubborn will, I did.  And when I look back - this was a year of growth.  A year of pain and tears.  And a year to realize that I am so much stronger than I ever could have imagined.  

And as always, there were lessons.  Lessons that I never thought I would have to face.  In 2023 I learned...

You can't have it all.  This was such a hard lesson to learn.  Five years ago, I sat down and made a choice. I didn't like where I was at in life with respect to sport, or, quite honestly, how I saw myself.  I had just finished Ironman Lake Placid and was disenchanted with triathlon and my general fear of everything.  It was bad.  So I sat down and made some intentions for 2019 - big, scary goals if you will.  For the past four years, I've gone out of my comfort zone, put myself in situations I had no business being in with respect to racing and training partners (that's my perspective) and as a whole, adapted the "Why not" mentality.  As in - fuck it - lets give this a shot.  And done so, without barriers or reservations.

It's gotten me to places I've never dreamed.  This year alone, I qualified for Kona, Taupo (World's 70.3) and another Boston Qualifier for 2025.  I've had so many amazing people help me along the way - friends, awesome coaches, and teammates.  I never would have expected any of it.  And the trip has been amazing. Incredibly hard, but absolutely, mind-blowingly, amazing. 

And while 2023 was another year of epic feats, I learned a really hard lesson - that you can't have it all.  That the balancing act I tri - ed for (See what I did there, and now the blog makes sense) epically failed.  Because you can't always keep the balance.  And riding high on athletic success cost me dearly this year, even though I went at it with the best of intentions - and with the best idea of how to balance it all.  

Everything in life is about he delicate pendulum (oh, the irony).  There is a season, turn, turn turn.  And while I can't regret the choices I made at the time, if I could go back, I might do it differently. But I can't.  So I'll write the next part of the story a different way, with what I've learned.  I'm still excited for Boston 2024 - don't get me wrong. That is going to be one. epic. day.  But I've had to really take a look at how I'm choosing to do things with the resources I have - be it time, money, relationships, mental health, you name it.

What You see on the Outside...is not the full picture.  I know everyone was shocked when I opted out of racing Kona - and the love from my support crew.....was real. Of supporters I didn't even know I had.  One of the things I heard over and over again was - you seem to have all your shit together.  We had no idea.  And bythe way..... we....don't either.  September, October and November flattened me.  Flattened.  There were so many days when I doubted that I would make it to the next one.  But an odd thing happened during this low time - people that I never thought would be part of my story - became part of my story. And I became part of theirs.  Whether it was sharing their own struggles or showing their support to me during my darkest days in ways I never imagined, I was able to see sides of people that I never knew existed.  And find solace.  And at the same time - be honest and real about the parts of me that people don't see every day.  It's with that kind of grace that I know that no matter what 2024 brings - it will be okay.  And the people that saw me....and allowed me to see the real, vulnerable parts of them - will be okay. We are in this together. 

Everything and Everyone Happens for a Reason.  This lesson tends to follow me from year to year, and I always leave it in - because its such a double edged sword.  There are things that happened this year that were absolutely amazing - people that came back into my life, new people that showed up along the way, and events I never dreamed would be a reality.  Sitting at the awards banquet at Ironman Texas and hearing my name called for a Kona slot was - indescribable.  Wearing the lei put on my by Ironman deeming me eligible to compete at that world level on Ironman's biggest stage......unbelieveable.  I will never forget it.  And while life had a different plan in mind for the actual event - I know, in my heart of hearts, that I will qualify again.  And when I do, it will be right.  But the journey - was indescribable.  And the same thing with the people I've met along the way this year.  Some of them left - some are in a much different capacity than I ever thought they would be.  It's been really hard, embracing the change and knowing what I can and can not control.  But that leads me to my last lesson....

You are stronger than you think. I always knew I was stubborn.  And that I had a lot of will.  But never until this year did I know....what I'm made of.  And how very damned much I can handle.  Whether its a 5am swim, a 7 hour brick, a sprint to max for the last two miles of a 140.6.....or picking myself up off the ground after life flattened me..... again....I got back up.  Every. Time.  And I know, going into 2024, that no matter what life throws at me, I can do this.  

Back in 2008, when I toed the line of my first Half Ironman (Musselman!), I found solace in a song that re-played in my head for the next 6 and a half hours.  I was still relatively new to the sport, and the idea that I was playing at being an athlete - let alone an event with the word "Iron" in it - was absolutely unfathomable.  As I swam, rode and ran, the words of a Rascal Flatts song played in my head....



When push comes to shove, you taste what you're made of,

You might bend till you break

Cause its all you can take

On your knees, you look up, decide you've had enough

You get mad, you get strong, wipe your hands, shake it off, 

Then You Stand. 

Fifteen years later - it still holds true.  And with 2023 behind me, I can't be thankful enough.  For the lessons, for the perseverance, for the friends.  For those amazing people - my QVC, Dumpster, Safety Tights and Older Sister.  For PC and the Bear.  For Cruise, for Will, for Too Tall.  For my Ham Bro.  And for Mean Dude, Renegade and Zeus.  (Does anyone have a real name any more??)  There are so many more.  But I will never, ever forget what you did for me this year.  And as we go into 2024, I can only hope that I can be there for these wonderful angels even a fraction of how much they helped me in 2023.  

Over and out, 2023.  And on to 2024 - to a new year full of adventure, friendships, and love. A year to knock my socks off.   Let's do this!

Sunday, October 22, 2023

Hartford Marathon 2023: I'll be There for You

And, with that, the 2023 season is officially over.  It's without a doubt, not the way I thought it would close out, but the last year....two years....four years..... have taught me that "PIVOT" is a real way of living and that while it hasn't been my day, week, month or even my year, I probably should have paid closer attention to Friends when I was in college (am I dating myself here?) - because really - it probably taught me all I need to know.

Hence the theme of this race report.  On to Hartford.

When we last left the story, I threw down my Kona announcement and even though it was incredibly hard, the love you guys showed me was something I will NEVER forget.  Armed with that, a little "fuck it" attitude, and one great friend that makes equally idiot decisions (thought he opted for the half marathon, so really, who's the idiot here) and we were headed for HARTFORD!

The day before the race, we met up in Victor (Ryan lives in PA, so this was a total gold friend move - he drove 16 hours total - and raced 13 - to hang with me for 48 hours.) and headed east.  We passed the five...ok....six...hours on I-90 by catching up, eating bad snacks, and talking race goals and 2024 goals.  Ryan had zero expectation for his half, as he hasn't been running long, and I had no idea what to expect.  We got into talking about speedwork and fast 200's, and I confided that my speed sucked and that I couldn't even break 1:30 in a 200.  He looked at me like I was an idiot (is this news, people) and I'll admit, it took a good few minutes of going back and forth to realize I meant 400s, not 200s - whoops! (a 1:30 200 is a 12:00 minute mile).  Math.  With that, the new goal became to break 1:30 for 109 repeats of 200 yards in the marathon! (Which would be a 5 hour plus race.  For perspective).

Without much fuss, we got our bibs (I am so serious) and checked into the hotel.  Pre race dinner was some sort of Teriyaki noodle dish, not enough water, and peanut butter cups for dessert.  What could possibly go wrong?

I legit had no goals for this race - but the peanut gallery (Greg, Mean Dude and Ryan) all had some insight and they all predicted a PR, which freaked me out.  Mean Dude advised just respecting the distance but using my fitness.  (I did not listen to either of these - spoiler alert.  It's important to note that Mean Dude did NOT coach this race - he is much smarter than what I did).

I gave up on goals - they were stupid.  Tossed and turned and race morning, ate a dry bagel, threw on some gear, added my Kona flowers, and headed out!  Parking was a dream - we got a spot not only close to bag drop but right next to Dunkin.  I got some coffee, we hung out in the car, and I told Ryan I wasn't sure I wanted to wake up...errr....warm up.  (Actual slip or truth?  Who knows).  Grudgingly, we did.  My body honestly felt like hell - I'm not sure if it was the drive or the crap nutrition, but my back hurt, breathing was off, and a 9 minute mile felt like crap.  This was gonna be FUN!  Of course, I treated pre race like a dedicated athlete  by dancing around like an idiot to "Jump Around" - prompting Ryan to throw down that he wanted to see the same dance in 4 hours, lol.  Done.  Before I knew it, we hit the portos one last time and headed to the start.  

Or....that was the 5k start!  SHIT!  (Friendly reminder - read the damned athlete guide).  The half and full start was about half a mile down the road in the OPPOSITE direction, so I raced toward it and made the start about 10 seconds before the gun went off (this was probably foreshadowing right here).  Before I knew it (literally) we were OFF!

Miles 1-10 went by rather well - I was holding 7:30-7:40/mi pace, which was admittedly a tad rich, but I decided on option "C" with this race - to go out like an idiot and see what happened (otherwise known as the FAFO methos - fuck around and find out....stay tuned!)   My loose A goal was to PR (PR 3:30) but I was totally fine if that didn't happen.  My legs felt pretty good, but I noticed right off the bat any slight uphill hurt my back and was way harder than it needed to be breathing wise.  I was also hungry earlier than normal  - I usually take in a gel every 5 miles but was ready at mile 3 and 7.  The aid stations were spaced nicely, but mostly on the right side, so I had to either reach over or shift my handheld - both first world problems, but caused a dropped cup and the handheld to slip off more than once.  Mile 10 hit in 1:17, which I knew was too fast, but hey, we weren't here to make great choices, right?

Miles 11-16 were also pretty uneventful - hit the halfway mark in 1:40 (WAY THE HELL TOO FAST
RAE) and still felt pretty good.  I met a fellow racer on the same pace and we chatted for a bit but i was honestly in true introspective mode, so I fell silent.  As I ran, I thought about a lot of things - the past year, both the good and the bad, Kona, and also about where I have some as a person and athlete.  One of my friends had loaded me up with songs and some of them hit so deep, I admit, I teared up.  Typical marathon stuff?  Nope.  But this was defintely not a typical day.

I stopped for water about mile 16 - the aid station was set up weird and I wasn't able to grab and go on teh fly.  This was a REALLY bad decision - as I started running again, every muscle in my lower body locked up.  Oh hell,  this was not good.  I slowed and did a few leg swings, but my quads and hamstrings would not cooperate.  I suffered through a few more miles until I hit the rutnaround, and then admitted defeat.  

The next 8 miles were absolute death.  I was thirsty, but I couldn't drink.  I was hungry, but I couldn't eat.  The candy stop at mile 20 did not work - I couldnt get it down.  The coke and mile 22 did not work.  I watched my pace slip from low 8s to high 9s and one 10:00/mile.  I was cooked.  I listened to Eminems "You Don't Know" on repeat - which was ironic, because I DID know, and this was very much so the ending of the "Fuck around....and find out" phase.  Did I go out too hard?  Probably.  Did I make idiot decisions the day before regarding nutrition and driving?  Yep.  I will say - I have never been in so much damned pain - not at Philly, not during any Ironman, and not during any ultras I have run.  Every step was agony.  I did not have anything.


Evidence to the fact that my last 10k took 58 minutes.  My half splits?  1:40/1:56.  Yikes.  Through sheer grit and idiocy, I made it to the finish line (did I have a choice??) in 3:36, for a an 8:12 pace, dumbly enough, a BQ for 2025, and a lot of freaking pain.  (Though I ABSOLUTELY killed those 200s on the 1:30 mark - LOL).

Know what, though?  I regret none of it.  I sent Mean Dude an update and admitted I raced like a moron.  Did my post race dance for Ryan.  Ate a greasy burger, a lot of chocolate, and when I couldn't walk later (my knee was so mad for what I did - but thankfully, it was much better Sunday) Ryan went out and brought me chicken nuggies for dinner.  What a dude.

The weekend was a total success.  It got my mind off Kona, I raced a fun new race, hung out with a good friend, and got away for a little bit.  I'm super grateful for everyone that helped me get through the day with awesome cheering and supportive messages - for Greg for watching our crazy bunch back home, and for Ryan who made the trek with me.  You guys are awesome.

What next?  A little off season, baby, before we kick off Boston training!  The post race week was pretty interesting, and if I can get my shiz together, I'll write another post on that.  

Thats a stretch.  When have I ever had my shiz together?? LOL


Thursday, October 12, 2023

You Gotta Have Heart

As I hit "publish" on the Kona post, a million emotions went through my head.  Sadness. Heartbreak. Relief at being able to share.  And a sense of trepidation - as to what the response would be.

You guys.  I am crying.  And I have been crying off and on since yesterday.  They aren't the tears I have shed in the last week - the last month - or the last year.  They are tears of someone who feels so incredibly loved and supported.  I cant thank you enough. Truly.

The loving texts and messages poured in yesterday - both from people who have been experiencing a similar year of struggle and doubt - and from people that reminded me that they have my back, no matter what I need.  Anytime. Always.

From my mother in law.  From my athletes.  From my coach. From my best friend.  From my running and triathlon buddies that I have known for years.  From my family. From the triathlete I met in JUNE - THIS YEAR.  From the runner I met LAST WEEK.  Reminding me that - I mean something to them.  That - I have been there for them (even when I had absolutely no idea - and was just being me).  From a woman I met twice - 3 years ago - and have not seen since that told me "I always thought your life was so amazing.  I never knew....that you struggled too".  From several fellow parent athletes who relayed their struggles to balance parenting and sports.  

There was not one single "Rae, its Kona.  WTF are you doing.  GO. You're an idiot".  

You guys.  I love you.  I love you so damned much.  And, as I read through every message with tears in my eyes, I feel so incredibly cared for and loved and I had no idea....that existed. I screenshot.....every single one.  To save, always. To remember that when life hits hard...I have people that care.

It gives me strength. And courage.  And in a year where that has been in very short supply, this means more....than you'll ever know.

As most people understood, I only scratched the surface in that last post.  There's a whole "under the iceberg" to this part of life right now that has been so incredibly hard to carry.  But with the help of so darn many of you, it feels a little more manageable.

It's been a hard month.  A hard week - watching all of the Kona emails come in, seeing my bib number (1286, baby) and knowing that Saturday will be really, really tough.

So a few weeks ago, I did what I do best - and made lemons out of lemonade. When something happens - all the power you have is in how you react. While a trip to Hawaii isn't feasible right now....a day and a half...was.  I had no desire to sit at home Saturday and moan about this, sadly watching the Kona coverage.  I also knew I had to do SOMETHING with my training.  So with the help of the internet, a consult of the 36 states I have left to run a marathon in to hit my "50 state goal", and a few handy "dumb decision" friends, we found a winner.

And in the vein of being oddly fitting, a place to go find my heart....errrr..."hart".

This Saturday, I'll be tackling state #16 in Hartford, Connecticut by running the Hartford Marathon.  I'm armed with road snacks, bad music, and the aid of a friend that I can call and say "hey - wanna run a race this weekend in the middle of nowhere?" and the answer is, "HELL YEAH!"

We all need those friends.

And I am so lucky to have those in spades.

The outcome isn't important.  At all.  It'll be a weekend of laughs, of tears, and of looking up around
me, being grateful for what I have, what I can do, and the people beside me. 

I won't forget what happened when I was at my lowest.  

You were there.  

And now, while I go find me....I know I have all the support and the love in the world.  Thank you.  So damned much.  All of you. 

Wednesday, October 11, 2023

The Gambler- An Update on Kona

 

Oh, friends.  I've been sitting on this post for awhile, but its time. Time to come clean.

This is possibly...one of the toughest posts I've ever written.  And it's fitting with 2023, which has been, without a doubt, one of the toughest years of my life.  You see me on here in a form of balance - I've always promised to be honest with you, whether its killin' it on the race course with a win, a "Q" or a PR - or on the days when life is tough and hands you a shit sandwich.

My 40th year on this planet has absolutely been one of those years.  A year of incredible accomplishments - some amazing PR's, a Boston Qualifying Marathon, and a Kona Qualifying Ironman. Epic new friendships and amazing experiences. 

It's also been a year of incredible lows, that have left me crying in a corner, sobbing through a run, or sitting on my best friend's couch, working our way through chocolate and wine. 

It's not the balance I had in mind, but it's life.  And it's real.  And I know that whatever the outcome of this stage in my life is - that I'm strong enough to handle it.  Even if it doesn't feel that way right now.

It's hard to share life when you aren't killin' it.  Yesterday, I had a talk with a new athlete and we got into social media - how what you share isn't real.  How its covered with a layer of shine.  I...don't do that, but I do cover it with a layer of humor that works equally well as a defense mechanism.

And if you dig through the humor, especially in the last month, you'll see the truth.  I've been flat. I've been struggling.  I've been going through the motions of heading toward the finish line for the biggest race of my life.  I've hit the numbers, and I've completed 95% of the metrics mean dude sends to me.

But a few weeks ago, I realized that...a huge piece was missing.  I'm not injured - my body is still going.  But its not going well, because I'm missing a much bigger piece. My heart - is not there.  My brain- is not there.  Where I am in life right now - its not a time to go to Hawaii for ten days to finish a 140.6.  

And that's the distinction with a race like this. It's not a race to "finish" - to go through the motions. When you get to mile 90 on the bike, and you're in the middle of a lava field, and its a million degrees out - your legs will want to quit.  And you need to find a way to keep them going.  With your mind.  And your heart. When you look at the finish line - especially the iconic end of a race you've been eyeing with longing for 18 years like a kid in a candy store - knowing that Ali'i drive is right now....just a road...why go?  Not for a race like this.

I remember the last half mile of the Philly marathon so well.  The tears in my eyes as I knew I was going to hit a BQ.  And the last mile of the Ironman at Texas - the emotion was just so incredibly real.  I wanted to be there. Those were....amazing days. I won't forget them.  And for months ahead of time, for both races -  while up at 4am, on the trainer, or in the freezing cold - I saw those moments.  I saw my loved ones at the finish line, waiting for me.  I saw the medal.  I saw the dream. I knew what I wanted and I threw my whole heart, body and soul into those races.

I don't see that right now.  And, along with a lot of life things going on - that made my choice.  I can't do that for Kona.  Not this race. This race means too damned much to just be "a race".

It's heartbreaking, and I am sad.  But I know I made the right choice.  And since the moment I made this decision four weeks ago....I haven't doubted it once.  I made it as an athlete.  As a person.  As a mom.  And as a family member.  On every level - it was right.  Even though it hurts - in my heart, I know it was right. 

In the past five years, I have learned so many lessons about life and this sport. After Lake Placid 2018, I sat down and thought really hard about what I wanted out of myself as an athlete (check it out). I had hit rock bottom and knew I needed to make some changes.

And the one line that jumped out at me that 2018 Rae wrote was this....

Because I am afraid.  I am afraid of speed on the Keene descent.  I'm afraid of not holding the brakes in aero.  And I sat myself into a huge nutritional hole because I am afraid to eat a clif bar on the fly.

If 2018 Rae triathlete could see 2023 Rae triathlete....she would never believe it.  In the past five years, I've learned to throw caution to the wind.  I've learned to run fast, and with people I have "no business running with".  I've learned to love my bike and be comfortable - in aero - one handed, and yes, flying downhill at 50 mph. (I haven't learned to swim, but hey, everyone needs goals).  I learned...to jump in and take a chance.  To go for it and give it my all.  And the rewards on the race course - and the friendships I have made off the course - are immeasurable. And I am so damned grateful for all of them. 

And maybe this was the final lesson.  To learn when to call the audible. I never thought it would be for Kona, but then again, when do we expect life lessons.  That's what they are there for. They aren't easy.

But it's different this time.  I don't have the doubt for myself as a person or as an athlete.  I KNOW that I can qualify again, and I will.  When the time is right.  I'll be back.  With my whole heart, body and soul.  I'll be back.  And with the grace and love of the people closest to me who have been absolute angels through this difficult chapter - I'll get through it.  I love you guys so damned much. You have no idea. You know who you are.

Everything in life is somewhat of a gamble.  You gotta know when to hold 'em.  When to fold 'em. 

This time - it was time to walk away.  (Probably also time to run - you can roll your eyes now, it's okay). 

But I'll be back.  And next time - it'll be right.  And the comeback....it's gonna be spectacular.

Right now - it's time to take life as it is.  To step back, and re-affirm that balance.  It's not always easy, but I know it'll be worth it.  Thank you guys.  For your support.  For believing in me.  And for being there.  You'll never know....how much it means to me.  Truly. 

So whats next?  Well, you know that I'm not the type of girl to just throw down without something in my back pocket.  I'm off to find my heart.  And this weekend, I'll be on that path.  Stay tuned. 

Saturday, September 9, 2023

Roc Tri 2023: Take it All

Well hey there!  It seems 2023 is the summer I can really only pull it together to write older than they should be race reports (my bad). So, as standard for this year, here comes your race that happened two weeks ago that I feel is bad karma not to write before I race (again) tomorrow!  Popular question - How do I handle racing so much late summer?  I wish I had a good answer, but its a mix of free entries and bad decision making, which probably defines me in a nutshell.  Whoops.  Without further pre amble, lets talk about the last race on August 26th - the Roc tri!

I have some pretty decent history with this race - our local tri team, RATs (Rochester Area Triathletes) have put this race on since 2011 (ish?)  I used to race it back in the day, then took a hiatus until 2021, when the new, prez, Mike, twisted my arm.  This is a familiar story.  I managed to finagle a win out of 2022's race, which bought my free entry to 2023 for the sprint distance, which happened to be the State Championships.

Cool story, bro.  Enter this year, the year of Ironman (that sounds so much better than the other terms I could assign 2023), when I have zero business entering a Sprint tri, let alone a State Championship.  So, as always, I decided to "race for fun".  (I'm twisted).  A few weeks pre race, Mike texted me asking me if I wanted to be in the open division or the open division.  Like an idiot, I said...open...uh...what's open?  Turns out, it was elite, winner take all division, no AG group awards.  Well that sounds silly.  Count me in!

Race week, of course, was filled with intelligence stupidity.  As I'm in the middle of build, right off of Sunday's Peasantman race, I did a 100 mile ride and 16 mile run.  My coach gave me the day off on the Roc tri race day, which was a much wiser course than I had planned he begrudgingly adjusted when I told him I was a moron.  Oh this poor mean dude. 

I was flyin' solo for this race - so race morning, after what was now considered sleeping in until 4:30, I headed out to play with some of my very best friends! (This was such an amazing 20 minute drive LOL).

Pre Race was filled with the standard shenanigans - watching the sunrise with my amazing friend Bear (it was our one year anniversary - this woman has been just the most wonderful friend to me since I met her last year and is my swim buddy 2-3 mornings a week!), making stupid bets with my friend Joe (which I technically won - pro tip - if you're gonna bet who will have the faster time, make sure you're running the same race LOL) and adhering to Mike D.'s strict transition standards (yep, I thought he was going in for the hug.  Nope, he was forcibly moving me OUT of transition.  My bad.)   My amazing neighbor and run bestie showed up to support me - I LOVE YOU GUYS!.  As usual, I spent the two hours pre race socializing, and taking zero seriousness about the upcoming race.  I'll never change, and I don't want to.

Before I knew it, we were in the swim corral - the women pulling Charlie's Angels poses, and the men laughing at us - and it was TIME TO ROC!

Swim: 14:25 - 1:45/100

The swim was in Lake Ontario, and parallel to the shore, out and back.  It was an in water start - and so the men and women open all headed out to wait for the gun.  We joked about the waves (they were decent) and our sprinting prowess, or lack thereof, as a few of us were focused on long course.  My friend Jamie compared me to Taylor Knibb with my awkwardness prowess at all distances - and god love that man, he's a good liar, but that stuck with me during the race and made me smile!  

The gun sounded - and we were OFF!  This was actually a pretty rough swim, and I was really glad I knew how to bilaterally breathe - the shape of the swim meant breathing to the right on the way out was breathing into a wave, which was rough.  I swam consistently, albeit slowly (my friend Darren swears he walked by me once, which is probably accurate. Ouch).  Regardless, I burned no matches during the swim, and was out of the water and into T2 in fourteen minutes, good for second woman (WHAT) - my neighbor yelled out my placement as I so seriously wiggled my butt at her and headed out with my bike!

Bike: 36:02 - 20.2 mi/hr

 The bike course for this race is a two looper for the sprint, with two lollipops, rolling hills, and one decent climb.  I fumbled my bike mount like the idiot I am perfected my flying mount, and was off!  My primary competition (and the most amazing, sweet woman, so you can't hate) Bethany passed me a mile in, and I had to remind myself that this race was for FUN and I was not to do idiotic things until the run.  I love this bike course - you can see everyone on it, and I biked consistently and at tempo pace, waving and having a great time - probably not the red lining you are supposed to do in a race, but screw it.  My bike, however, was not pleased with me - its been acting up again lately (I suspect the poor guy is just tired) so I struggled with shifting a lot, which was not ideal.  However, as I always say, in a race you see problems and handle them as best you can.  The bike had a few gears that it "preferred" (e.g. did not make protest sounds in) so I stuck with those, focused on consistent effort, and was back into T2 before i knew it!  My split was about 2 minutes slower than 2022, which was disappointing, but I understood it - I have done almost zero speed in 2023, and that's what that brings!

Run: 22:16 - 7:11/mi

T2 was WILD.  1st, 2nd and 3rd place women were all in T2 at the same time - Abbey, Bethany and myself, and heading out into the run, we were separated by about 100 yards. (I actually ran the whole run with one braid cockeyed out of my cupcke visor - I had zero time in T2 if I wanted to hang!)  NUTS.  I had promised Dave I would be good until mile 2 of the run, and I broke that promise right off the bat.  I knew Bath was a much stronger runner than me, and had zero idea about Abby.  I had resigned myself to not winning this race awhile ago, but again, I remembered my coach's words - you never know what race someone is having ahead of you - and so I made the decision right off the bat to ignore my watch, ignore my pace, ignore my HR, and try to keep these two fasties in my sight as long as possible!

About a mile in, Beth passed Abby, and shortly after, so did I.  I kept my eyes forward and was back about 5 seconds as we headed to the turnaround, and cheered her on (this woman is amazing),  and stayed on her heels.  At mile 2, I made the pass, and tried like hell to hold on.  I had zero idea how fast I  was going, but this hurt like hell, and I literally could hear the breathing behind me, knowing I had no time to consider the hurt I was in.  About mile 2.5, we hit grass to go around transition, and the spectators went wild - this was a crazy women's race!  Beth passed me back, and I had no give, and let her go.  As we hit pavement, I was dying inside - but I knew that the next 3 minutes would pass, regardless of what I did, and dug deep.  At mile 2.9, I passed her back, and gave it absolutely everything I had to hold on, breaking the tape and winning the race by 3. freaking, seconds, for a time of 1:15:37. 

POST RACE

HOLY SHIT.  What just happened??  As I broke the tape (I have never done this before) I had the biggest smile on my face, and then my body reminded me that I just did really stupid shit, and I kept walking to find a private place to die.  My neighbor followed me (I love this woman to pieces), as she was so excited and had zero idea what was coming next - when I promptly hunched over and threw up (I am so classy).  I gave her a thumbs up to let her know I was okay, and once my body calmed down, laughed about my post win shenanigans, knowing that I really freaking left it all out on the course!!

After that, the party started again!  I thanked my amazing neighbors and my run bestie Laura for being awesome cheerleaders, caught up with my fellow athletes, and waited for awards.

Oh yeah, and that heavyweight belt we all posed with last year? Well, this year I got my very own.  I'd like to say I will wear this forever, but apparently it was made for 8 year old's.  Well played, Biz :-P

The Roc tri, as always, was a great race and I had an amazing time!  I set a new sprint PR (really, I should learn to race these) and while i walked away with some lessons learned, I am ridiculously happy with the race and have never, ever, been part of such a crazy battle for the win!  On to Finger Lakes tri - our last hometown race before the BIG DANCE in Hawaii!

Friday, August 25, 2023

PeasantMan 2023: Bittersweet Symphony

Without a doubt, this might be the toughest race report I have ever written.  I've thought about this the past 4 days and debated which version to give you - the unfiltered truth, or the proverbial sunshine and rainbows?

And I know which one is right - its the former.  This is a little bit of a different tone than you are used to from me, and I want to acknowledge that.  But if there's one thing I have been consistent about in this blog, on social media, and in real life - its - you get the real me.  The sunshine, rainbows, laughs, dancing - and also the raw and real struggles.  So buckle up, this one's a bit of a bumpy ride.

I have a little history with Peasantman (oooooh, do tell, Rae). It's a fantastic local race put on by one of my good friends, and he rocks it.  He's run the race for a decade, but up until last year, I had silly schedule conflicts that prevented me from racing.  Last year, I toed the line with a little "sweet" motivation and somehow won the Intermediate (Olympic-ish distance) race.  What??  

Somehow that guaranteed me free entry this year, and by the grace of who knows what bad decisions on is end, Joe, the RD, brought me on to help with the First Knight Racing team on social media and as some sort of athlete presence.  Bless his heart.  Either way, I had the feels about this race - it was such a fantastic day in 2022 - could we even measure up?

I've blogged ad hoc a bit about it, and will follow up with more non race report navel gazing - but it's been a tough go lately.  The training is there, but in a lot of ways, it's been a struggle bus since Texas.  Coming into this race, I knew I could cover the distance ( a bit over standard Oly distance - a one mile swim, 29.75 mi bike, 6.55 mi run) but I seriously was lacking in zooms.  Either way, I pledged to have a fun day - whatever it brought.

I knew a lot of friends were gonna be at the race, and with Greg doing the sprint, it was fun to be able to race together (we don't often get to due to lil guys).  A few days before the race, I got a text from a friend I hadn't seen in four years - who asked me if I was racing.  I laughed at some irony surrounding said friend, and then made a ridiculously foolish bet with him as to who could go faster (he is a sub 10 Ironman finisher - Rae, will you ever learn??  Nope).

Race morning, we made the trek to Penn Yan, with the weather at least on our side - it was a little windy, but after last years sideways rain, anything was better!  We racked early, got our gear, and I began the business of very seriously setting up to race screwing around and socializing like I always do.  Fast friend set up next to me, and I got a rather - um- eye opening lesson on wetsuit tricks involving plastic bags (thanks Derek!) After a few zillion selfies and laughs, we headed down to the beach to hop in the water and go!

Swim: 34:45 - 1:58/yd (WTF)

Where to go with this - I don't know.  The shape of the swim is a giant rectangle, and the buoys are set up to match your swim cap (yes, I checked this year before donning my tinted goggles).  The water was a little choppy, but not bad, with a slight current that would be against us on the way out, and with us on the way in.  Theoretically.  

Guys, I have no idea what I did here.  I sighted worth crap, straining to see kayaks that really weren't there to guide me. (Note that there were plenty of kayaks - I'm just not that bright). I possibly threw a tea party in the middle of the swim as my pace slowed to a crawl (not a forward crawl, which is an actual swim stroke).  I never felt bad, but I'll fully admit I got caught up in my own head and cashed in within the first few hundred yards.  I exited the water after what felt like a zillion years, a full three minutes slower than last year, and headed to T2 to get on my bike.

Bike:1:34:53 29.75 mi - 18.7/mi

As I mounted my bike, a volunteer asked me how the swim went and I laughed - it was wet, I replied, and thanked the weather gods that the bike did not look to be!  The first ten miles or so were pretty uneventful - we had some cross wind, but not bad, and my HR was pretty low. As was the effort,  Damn.  I was going about 19, and I should have been going faster.  I just....didn't care.  My heart was not in this, and it pains me to say it.  I love being on my bike (who am I??) and that part was there - but I had zero drive to race.  I felt...sad.  And just sort of unsure about the whole thing.  

After we turned out of Branchport, I brightened up a bit - this is the cool part of the course that is hilly, but gorgeous.  And, much like last year, filled with horse poop and buggies.  I slowed for a few, and played nice with the cars and horses.  I even got to ride next to a few Amish people on their way to church, and thanked them for sharing the road  (they probably thought I was crazy - I am).  This was definitely the best part of the course, and at mile 19 when we turned back onto the main drag, it was all headwind and either zoomy cars or horse poop, lol. I always think this is gonna be the fastest part of the course - nope.  I handled the bike well, took in a gel, and spun out into transition, a few minutes fast than last year, but without any vigor whatsoever.  

As I ran into T2, I was a little short with a volly ( I totally misunderstood her and felt horrible and apologized later) and asked Greg how his race went - he told me to get on with it and GO RACE!  I had zero idea what place I was in.  I passed two women on the bike, but with my shit swim, who knew....

Run: 6.55 mi 49:21 7:25/mi

As I got out on the run course, I saw my buddy Matt, who yelled something vaguely encouraging or flirty (who can tell) and I smiled briefly, but I was in such a funk.  My eyes kept wandering to the wide of the road, scanning the sides of the course without any really direction.  I felt so flat.  I ticked off miles 1 and 2 in about 7:35, and saw Derek heading in for 2nd overall (he beat me by like 25 minutes and it was a stupid bet but it made me laugh) - I counted one woman ahead of me by about two minutes as I it the turn around in 24:40.  Guys - I kind of gave up.  I grabbed some Gatorade, walked a hill, and just gave no shits.  Two minutes was a lot to make up in 3 miles.  At that point, the Outlaw rode past me (warm down bike - he did the sprint) and yelled at me for walking.  I wont repeat what I said, but I begrudgingly started up again.  Hit mile 4, and mile 5 and saw....first place woman right ahead of me.  WTF?  OK, then, we should race. I picked it up, gave her a "nice job!" and turned on the gas, going from 7:40s to 7:10 and 6:55....well then.  I passed my buddy Steve going out who yelled "I KNOW THAT SMILE" and I FINALLY turned it on.  For 11 minutes...I raced.  I hit the gas full force at mile 6 and sailed it in for a 3:01 finish time, for the overall female win.

Post Race

Post race I caught up with my athletes (LAURA YOU ROCK!) and hung out, having some beer and recounting the day.  Turned out, most people had a shit swim - the water wasnt great, but I know deep down I let my head get to me. I was knighted by the queen and got my award, which I am super grateful
for, and a big thanks to First Knight Racing for putting on an amazing event, as always.

I know this is a weird report - and after the race, when I tried to explain it to my best friend, he gave me some good ribbing about feeling this was about a win.  And I am so grateful for the win.  But I also know in my heart I did not show up for this race like I should have, and I'm disappointed in that.

We move on.  Next up is the Rochester tri on August 26 - I'll be doing the sprint, which I have zero zooms for but I am excited to give it all I've got and spend the morning with some good friends.  Onward!

Tuesday, August 15, 2023

Musselman 2023: It's Been A Year

Sometimes, the best stories take a while to tell.  (Nah, I just made that up - really, I'm just incredibly behind at telling this tale of Musselman, but since its fun to get down, here we go!).  A few weeks ago (five, to be exact), I toed the line at our "local" Ironman branded 70.3 (That was a way cooler race when it wasn't Ironman, but that's not todays story).  This was my seventh crack at the race since my first half iron in 2008, and the race always generates the feels for some reason or another.  Back in 2008, it was my first half ever - and an epic thunderstorm.  2009 featured the double mussel and a fall on my face that was the damned coolest redemption story ever (and I got a free wetsuit out of it!).  In 2012, I won an entry because I am a wannabe writer (don't y'all know it), 2014 was my return to long course after having a kiddo, 2019 my return to tri after the debacle of 2018, and 2022....well, we will just smile at Musselman 2022's beautiful serendipity and leave it at that. What a race.  What a day.  :)

This year - as has been most things in 2023 - was all about embracing the unknown.  I signed up las year for "reasons" and while the course of my life has changed so drastically since then, returning to Geneva one year later seemed  incredibly fitting.  Plus, ya know, since most of my friends were doing it.... if they all jumped off a cliff....sure, sounds fun to me!  I had an athlete racing her first 70.3 (she killed it) and a loose bet with my old coach about who could beat who (story coming) - what was not to love about a morning spent with the best people doing what I love best? Sign me up!

Post Texas, I have been through the complete gamut when it comes to training - and life - but in a nutshell - I have chilled TF out about a lot of things, racing included.  While I will never, ever forget the incredible span of August 2022-April 2023 where I raced my little heart out and did epic things - it took its toll on me.  Mentally and physically.  I have since wisely pivoted to the pure enjoyment of the sport - with the KQ and BQ secured, it was the time to let any lofty goals out the window and have a blast - doing what I love.

With that being said, I had intentions to race smart - last year I seeded horribly, and paid for it.  This year, I played it a little wiser.  I came to Geneva on Friday to check in - AWA for the win - and secured a fantastic racking position.  Met a few new people - that - as always - followed with me through race day.  A cancer survivor.  Her best friend, doing her first half.  Both in their 60's.  Bad ass women.  As always, I am in awe.

From there, we played a little bit.  Saturday was bike racking - and a fantastic super serious pre race run shakeout crazy run through Geneva in our undies for charity (I love my people - sorry Dad!), socializing (what I do best) and then home for some family time and chill.

Sunday was up and  at 'em at 2:30 - (which, because of the early training I've put in, wasn't a huge deal!).  En route to the race, I smiled, thinking of all the fun times Musselman has brought - and armed with my stuffie mussel and my requisite racing good luck charm, ready to make some wonderful memories of the day.  As I arrived, I embraced the day fully - smiling and laughing with new friends and old.  Loaning out my bike pump and joking about the price of air and inflation.  Getting a sunscreen shot from Kathleen's husband, who was randomly on the sideline and became my race photographer for the day - and a homestay offer if I ever race Ironman Florida!  Sweet.

Pre race, I seeded myself with the 35 minute swimmers and hung out with a few RATs.  I looked out at the water and smiled, thinking of how darn lucky I was to be there.  And then with a deep breath, we were off!

Swim: 37:13, 1:46/100 yd

The swim for this year was a bit different, with a semi dive start off the docks.  The big news for Mussel 2023 was the water temp, which for the second time in 20 years, hovered on wetsuit legal.  Thankfully, someone dumped a bag of ice found a cold spot to make it just legal.  I don't much care about it one way or the other, but for my first time peeps and nervous swimmers, I was happy.  I didn't have much in the way of an overall race goal, to be honest - I was thinking somewhere along the lines of :37-:39 swim, 2:50-2:55 bike and a 1:50 run for a 5:25-5:30 finish.  I had delusions months ago about breaking 5, but was realistic about where my body was - after basically being "on" since December 2021, it was tired.  And even though PR setting is fun - I knew it wasnt that kind of day. 

The swim was pretty perfect, to be honest. Some chop, perfect temp, right seed.  I passed few people and few people passed me.  Mid swim, I realized I forgot my lucky charm in transition had had a moment - then remembered that I had my own magic within and laughed a little (then promptly drank the lake, because I'm cool like that. ) The swim design was a giant triangle, and the best part about Ironman swims are without a doubt the number of sighting bouys.  I swam 2112 yards - which is pretty freaking spot on.  Exited the swim right on the money, and ran to T1 to grab my bike and go!!

Bike: 2:49, 19.99 avg (WTF)

In T2, my old coaches' wife was cheering, and I promptly gave her a few poses for the camera, complete with butt wiggle (I will never, ever regret seconds "wasted" like that) and then I was off!  The first few miles of the bike are always congested, and this course is worst than most since its coned single lane and tough to pass.  I settled in and got comfy, and about 3 miles in, started to do the work.  Admittedly, I am not a huge fan of this course - its changed a few times over the years, and while I dont miss the five miles of bump that used to exist via Sampson State Park, the new course has way too many turns where you lose a lot of speed.  With that being said, I signed up for it and knew what I was getting into - the main goal here was to bike smart, not blow my load (thats what she said) and not wuss out.  We started out the bike with some nice headwinds (and by start, I mean the first frickin 35 miles).  I held my own pretty well and focused on HR and power - I got passed by a few RATs I expected to get passed by - Mike and Brett - (I got my revenge on one, and Ill let you guess who!). 

After almost two hours of climbs and wind, the tides turned in our favor and the last twenty miles of the bike were fantastic and zooooomy!  I made sure to drink, take in calories and gave a whoop at the last aid station manned by RATs, and stretched my legs out in anticipation of the run.  I tried to pee the last few miles with zero success - I thought I mastered this one last year at Peasantman but apparently my skills are a little lacking.  The things I write.  The things you read.  I know.  I feel your pain :-P  Finished the bike almost right on the money at 2:49, with a 19.99 average and cursing my coasting to unsuccessfully pee which cost me that precious .01 mile avg to be like the cool kids and hit 20 (or at least I tell myself that).

Either way, it was time to RUN!  (After I peed in transition.  Damned waste of a minute but what can you do). 

Run: 1:44, 7:58 min/mi pace

As I ran outta T2, I saw Greg and the kids which made me smile - it was TBD if they were gonna come and I was so happy they did!  Greg yelled out - "You're 4th in your AG!" and I was like....WHAT?  Must have misheard.  There is no way I'm 4th here - what is going on?  I never expected to try to place (Which I have never ever done in an Ironman branded race) but now we had a goal!

The run for this race was changed again from last year to eliminate trains (sorry, guys, I did have a hand in that.)  It was two loops, an out and back with a lollipop for the second piece.  The good news?  Great crowd support!  The bad news?  Well, see above...  I started out super steady about 7:45 pace, and waved and smiled at the RAT's on course, the aid station, my old coach's wife, and my buddy Russ (who informed me to move it along, this was NOT Ironman LOL).  I felt great - taking in aid every other station with the old ice in the bra trick - until I saw the new part of the course.  Where we used to run under a tunnel was now this giant ass mountain of 5 & 20 we had climb.  Shit.  The turn was so sharp to climb I saw one dude slingshot it off a garbage can (sick move) and I trudged up the hill, slowing my pace and apologizing to Ironman in my head about the bitching constructive feedback on the course relative to train tracks.  

I saw Gary (old coach) about here, and he looked to be about 15 minutes ahead of me - not catchable.  Damn-o.  Nonetheless, we had an AG spot to keep, which, without body marking, just meant I should not let any woman pass me.  Done.  About mile 5, I saw the DIDO's and gave a fist bump, then a Towpath kit ahead.  I laughed, because this same thing happened at Musselman 2022 - except this time, I actually asked the guys name instead of pretending I knew who it was (I was wrong last year anyways).  This was Cody, who was killin it, and we slapped high five as I passed and wished him luck (we caught up post race, and he's new to the scene and gonna make some waves -watch out!)  The rest of loop one passed pretty quickly, with a sweet downhill to make up for that dumb mountain Ironman put in.

Then we got to do it again.  Loop two was just as great - I slowed somewhat, but kept a steady 8:00ish pace and to my total shock, caught up and passed Gary at mile 8, who called me a Goddess (yes, I want that in writing thanks).  Up the mountain, around the lollipop, high fived Matt Kellman who called me a rockstar (flattery will get you everywhere!) and before I knew it, I was rounding home!  I slapped high five to my awesome fam and ran into the finish for a 5:17 (my de rigeur) - 4th place in my age group and 22nd female out of about 800.  Success!


Post Race

After the race I got some awesome hugs from my fam and hung out and watched my friends and athletes finish.  I met up with some new friends from Keuka (hey Sarah and Brittany!) and hung out with Marcus and the RATs and waited for awards.  It was crazy being on the Ironman "podium" (there wasn't one, so I was safe) and both Marcus and I laughed because we both came in 4th and had our first podiumat the same race!


After the awards came the Worlds Slots - this race was a qualifier for 70.3 Worlds which will be in Taupo, New Zealand - how cool is that??

And Guess who's going to Taupo?

....Not me :)  I did end up qualifying, but the race is in December 2024.  Across the world.  And while I am still in complete awe at the crazy results I have gotten over the past year of racing....I have somewhere else to be on December 14th.  Making Christmas.  At home.  With my littles - who won't be little for very much longer! And speaking of which - as is now our post Mussel tradition....when I got home from the race, Rob was waiting for me, helmet in hand.  "Hey Mom - wanna go for a bike ride?"  He asked.

Yes, buddy, I do.  I always do. 

Thanks for a great race, Musselman!  I'll be back - this is absolutely a lifestyle and I love it all.  Up next - Peasantman Olympic (ish) distance on August 20th - it'll be hard to top last year's race but I am jumping in with all I've got, as is my style :)