With a Little Help From My Friends

So, I did a thing.

As most of my posts have been starting this year, you can deduce that this thing has something to do with racing and is equal parts fun and crazy.  And probably not the brightest thing one can do.

But hey, who said I was sane?  (Literally no one has said this about me.  Ever.).

Off of the high of Keuka, I decided it would be a brilliant plan to add another race to my 2019 Tri season for a few reasons.  1.  I had a good first race.  2.  If this is do or die year, I need to do it live, and 3.  I am highly susceptible to suggestion....and have been hanging out with some pretty bad amazing influences (more on this later).

Armed with all of this  knowledge, I decided it would be wise to sign up for a race to set a litmus for my "A" race in September - Barrelman Half Ironman, on September 22.  I have real goals for this race - not quite ready to make them public, but suffice to say that my old Half Iron PR of 6:32 will be decimated if I have anything to do with it.  I've only done five Half Irons in my life....and all in the same spot - Musselman in Geneva.  It was a great first Half in 2008 (with epic Thunderstorms) a great twofer in 2009 where I won a wetsuit ( I did double mussel, which is a sprint Saturday and the Half Sunday), blistering heat in 2011 (which, ridiculously, was my PR), a free entry in 2012 because sometimes I get great ideas during my swims and win contests, and a "why the hell not" race with little prep post first kid in 2014.  The funny part is, aside from the shit show of 2009, I've finished every one of these races between 6:32 and 6:42, no matter what the training.  But as it seems to be the theme of this year, since I haven't done a 70.3 in five years,  I signed up for one, but in a new venue, thinking it might help break the Musselman curse.

Unless, ya know, I decided to do something dumb like sign up for Musselman as a litmus race right now- a half iron on July 13th gives me 3.5 weeks to train....what could possibly go wrong? (everything).  That would be dumb.  My longest ride to date had been 36 miles, and I have so little volume on the bike, who would do this?

(Waves hello).  Yep.  I did a thing.  I did do a few testers first though.  This idea started percolating last week post Keuka, and I decided that if I could pull off an outdoor ride on my own - which I've literally not done in ten years...(23 miles - check) and a 50 mile ride on the trainer (check) without dying, I would sign up.  One of my friends needed to defer her entry, so this would be the third bib transfer of 2019, which also might be my theme of the year.  Anyone else unable to do a race and want to unload?  I'm on a roll!

I'm probably a lot little idiotic to sign up for this race.  I've never had a good race at Musselman, whether its thunderstorms, temps over a hundred degrees, or getting kicked in the head during the swim and blacking out.  Little things like that.  But hey, if this is the year to slay the dragons, I think I should slay them all, and hopefully it will give me some indicators for my A race in September.

I have no illusions of pulling out the greatest race ever.  But I might have caught the tri bug this year, and aside from my own resolutions to chase those big scary goals this year, there are three reasons why I've turned into a tri fanatic.

The Banter.

The Boy.

The Outlaw.

The Banter, me and The Boy. 
(This is a huge deal to get The Banter in a  selfie.  I even won a bet)

I suppose its time I talk about "the family".  I've talked about my own introvertedness quite a bit on this blog, and for the last fourteen years of racing, I've happily trained on my own.  I like to think on the run.  I like to tune out during my swims.  And the concept of group riding...well, I'm sorry, do you even know me?  We all know I tapped into some epic talent to train for my spring runs and made a few great running buddies, but with tri season upon me, the winter run base training was no longer my focus.  Time to get back to that solo training.  Famous last words.

Enter The Banter.  I've blogged enough about this dude that he really needs no intro, except for the fact that he totally took me under his wing, brought me into his little tri family, and made me feel welcome in all his sarcastic, pain in the ass glory.  (Just kidding.  No, I'm not). 

The Banter pals around with The Boy, who has also made an appearance on the blog - he's a local friend that has started swimming with us and also has started inviting me on his long runs, which is the best place to develop a friendship.  You learn way the hell more than you ever thought possible when running with someone at 5am.  Trust me.  And I already adore the hell out of him.

The last member of the family is the The Outlaw, who isn't local, but much like an Outlaw, graces us with his presence from time to time before stealing away into the night to cause a ruckus somewhere in PA, where he hails. 

The three of these guys are hands down the best thing that's happened to me this season. They are legit athletes who regularly podium, and are freaking hilarious and fun to hang out with. I swim once or twice a week with The Banter and The Boy, and its a great mix of hard work, bad humor, and hotness in spandex work on good form.  Both guys swam in college and know their stuff.  I humbly try to pick up whatever bone they throw me.  (And they do.  They are all teachers, which means they love to order people around dispense nuggets of wisdom.)

I've run with all three guys - The Banter for a few tempo and long runs, The Boy for long runs, and The Outlaw for a recovery run. Thankfully, I can pretend to hang for this sport, and I've learned the fine art of pacing and the importance of recovery pace from these guys as well. 

My best rendition of the Outlaw.  He likes pink, but is tough to catch.  Sorry.

Still, I held out for the bike.  We all know what a neophyte I am at the bike, and the idea of riding with these guys terrified me.  Well, this week they finally wore me down. After being ordered asked nicely,  I joined The Banter and The Boy for a ride in Webster, where despite explaining in great detail my fear of aero, the small chain ring, and assuring them that that I might, in fact, tip over while clipping in....they haven't disowned me yet. (I'm pretty sure they both passed out laughing, though). We did an easy-ish 16 mile ride with minimal lecturing and aside from the fact that I "have a lot of work to do" (we knew this) and it was a huge step for me in getting the f*ck over myself.  Even though these guys are great, they don't hesitate to push the pace or go whizzing by in aero without warning me downhill (I want to be them when I grow up.  I'm just saying).  I even capped the ride off with a bit of wobbly aero riding on the Banter's private drive, which, again, I KNOW IT'S DUMB, but was huge for me. 

I'm proud to say that as of June 20th, I've ridden outside more this year than in the last two years combined, and if The Banter has any indication on being right about anything (he likes to think he usually is) that there is some "major untapped talent" in this biker and if I learn to use my beautiful, neglected bike the way it was intended, perhaps there is some hope for me this year on the tri circuit.

So thank the boys for this newest "thing I did", because they are all racing Musselman, and if my friends jumped off a cliff, would I?

Me and the boy, post 5am run.  We encourage terrible life choices and its great.

I don't know.  Is there a finishers medal and bragging rights?  Cause, yeah.  Probably.  I'm in.  Let's do it!

So thanks boys, for bringing me into your crazy little group and being a great mix of friend, pain in the ass, and encouragement for me to be the best I can be. Somehow (actually not somehow, there is a story and I'm not telling it on a family blog), I've been graced with the nickname "Pants" which means a few things....they must like me, because no one goes by their real name in this little family.  And apparently, I'll now be known as "Pants" until I'm about 86.  I'm good with this.

Big, Scary Goals.  So much better with friends.  What the hell have I been doing for fourteen years?  Watch out Geneva, here I come!

Keuka Lake Tri 2019: Demons

And the day arrived....as we knew it would.  The ultimate test.  The "Rae that's great you pontificate on all these friggin goals, but let's get to the heart of the matter.  Did you slay the bike demon??" 

Clearly, Dan Reynolds and Imagine Dragons, as always, are there for me on this one with the title post:

Look into my eyes

It’s where my demons hide

It’s where my demons hide

Don’t get too close

It’s dark inside

It’s where my demons hide

It’s where my demons hide

Tri season had arrived.  And the true test was upon me.  Stepping back, as I look at the whole "Big, Scary Goals" deal of 2019, I know in my heart it was really about one thing.  It was about the bike.  2018 took my fear of the bike and epicly demonstrated how it was time to either shape up or ship out with triathlons.  You can have a preference for a discipline, sure, but when you have a fear so strong of riding your bike that you spectacularly dump an Ironman race with it, it's time to re-evaluate and get back on the horse...errr...bike...or find a different sport.

Who's that Girl...It's Jess!

I love so many things about triathlons, so I knew I needed to give 2019 my best shot. And I did.  I took the first 6 months by storm and decided to face my fears. Where it pertains to sports,  I started with the manageable ones (hey, baby steps).  I'm a slow runner - so I started running with faster people that were willing to put up with me.  Check.  I've netted 3 huge PR's this way.  I'm a crappy swimmer - so I started swimming with people that like to boss me around are great swimmers and listening to their advice.  Double check (Kinda.  That listening part might still be under debate from time to time.) And yet there was still that whole damned bike thing.  I started out reasonably - riding loops around my neighborhood, a few short outdoor rides at easy cautious pace, and I didn't die.  This was good.  Keuka Triathlon was the big test - could I race without fear?

Going into the race, I decided to do the sprint tri rather than the Olympic - a decision I hadn't made in years. (3 to be exact - I haven't raced a sprint tri since 2016).  I hate sprint tris.  The swim is over too soon, the bike is too long (can they cancel it?) and the run should be much longer.  Maybe they can keep the swim at a half mile and switch up the bike and run legs,so we do a 5k bike and a 14 mile run! ....no?  Fine.  I'll do the sprint.  I have a distinct lack of "fast twitch muscles" (hence endurance sports) but I figured the way to tackle the bike beast was to start with the little race and do it live.  

Race weekend, I felt pretty good.  My legs were feeling recovered after the shit show of the Buffalo Marathon, my right foot wasn't 100% but improving, and I had a freshly tuned up bike that was ready to go!  I swam in Canandaigua Lake the day before the race to test goggles and wetsuit, and even though it was pretty frigid, I didn't die and that was a good thing.

Race morning dawned clear and warm, and Greg and I were on the road by the ungodly hour of 4:45am to make the trek to Penn Yan.  We checked in with little fanfare, caught up with a bunch of our friends, and got our transition space ready to go! 

My med container.  No One would dare steal it.  

I felt pretty out of practice at the whole transition set up, since its been almost a year since I raced, but aside from the fact that I clearly need to get a new meds container for my ibuprofin and tums, I figured I had my T1 and T2 crap as good as it would ever be.  This took all of 5 minutes, so I had an hour to kill.

Since this race offered both the Olympic distance and Sprint, they kicked us out of transition at 7am for the longer course start.  I decided to spend this time wisely by watching the Boy struggle into a wetsuit he borrowed from the Outlaw (after realizing the day before he somehow lost his).  This was hilarious, as he has at least 6 inches on the Outlaw and the suit was....a struggle to get on.  I helped out enormously by singing "Fat Guy in a Little Coat" and humming Ginuwine's "Pony" to his reverse striptease.  He posits that the struggle was worth it because the suit obviously held mystical swimming magic left by the Outlaw.  I posit that anything left in the suit was far more ominous, but lost that draw.  Either way, it made for a mood lightener to calm my nerves and we headed down to the race start, where we caught up with The Banter and Mrs. Banter and their cute doggoes.  I got some puppy love, and headed down to the swim start to "warm up" in the 60 degree water.

Funny story.  As I was packing for the race the night before, I left socks out as I never run with them.  Greg thought this was smart and told me that the only way I would ever need socks was in the unlikely event that I cut my foot or something and was bleeding.  He's not allowed to suggest things any more.  As I came out of the water, I managed to slice the arch of my bad foot on a rock and sported a nice inch long cut on the bottom of my foot.  Dammit.  Well, I guess if it had to happen, it was the bad foot, right?  I hobbled out of the water and prayed to the Tri Gods that I would be able to get through the next few hours unscathed!

The Swim

The Sprint race started at 8:15am and I was 3rd out of 4 waves, with all the men in front of me.  I decided to seed myself aggressively to the far left and in front, as I knew I could fast start and had no problem swimming with people.  The gun sounded at 8:25 and we were off!  The swim portion was rectangular in shape, with "Dorito chip" buoys (no really, that's how they referred to them) marking the three turns.  I could have done with a few more buoys, as my goggles kept fogging up and the water was kind choppy, but swam alone for 95% of the swim until the last 100 yards when some chick decided it was a great idea to grab my feet.  I gave her something to think about with a swift kick, lifted myself up, and hit the lap button on my watch - 16:53.  DAMMIT. I'd been dedicating way more time to swimming thanks to the fishies I hang out with, and was hoping I would have come out closer to 13 minutes - then realized I swam almost 1000yds (avg 1:44/yd), so either I fail at Dorito spotting (I do hate them anyways) or the course was long.  Nothing to do about it now.  The run to T1 was up stairs and annoying, but I'm used to it, so I did my sexy thing and stripped my way to transition.

Not so sexy run.  

The Bike

And...it was time.  I mounted my bike at the line, clipped in with relative ease (score!) and was off.  The first 3 miles of the 14 mile ride is on a pretty dead street, so I took some time to spin out, drink, and started to pass people.  A lot of people.  Since I had no clue how far back I'd exited the swim, I was disheartened to see so many athletes ahead of me.  I took a deep breath and reminded myself the swim was done, and to just go for it.  I glanced down at my bike computer, 1.5 miles in.  a few minutes later....1.65.  Shit.  My bike computer got stuck on average MPH and so I had speed and average, but no distance.  This annoyed me at first, the I realized it was actually a good thing, as my goal for the bike was 18 MPH, so I could track it.  The rest of the bike, dare I say, was uneventful.  I handled the descents well, never got out of the big chain ring (come on, one thing at a time) and passed a crap ton of people that really had no clue what "On your Left" meant.  (Spoiler alert - It does not mean move left).  At about mile 10 I realized two things - 1.  I didnt want the bike to end (WHO AM I?) and I was going to exceed my goal of 18MPH average.  I also realized about this point that all the people I was passing (I only got passed once) were duathletes....not women in my race.  This made a huge difference!  I still had no clue where I was in the women's race, but i coasted into T2 with a 43:19 bike split, or 19.08 MPH.  To say I was pleased was a huge understatement.  This is nowhere near what I am capable of in terms of power, but I enjoyed the ride and it was exactly what I came to do.

The Run 

And now...it was time to dance.  The run is, obviously, my favorite part!  I had a quick T2 (:43) and was out to run my 5k!  I realized a few things quickly - it was hot and humid as f*ck....and I was thirsty.  Thank god there was an aid station .5 miles in. 

I'm Flying!  (Thanks Carolyn for the pic!)

Unfortunately, the vollie didn't hear my yell for water and gave me gatorade, which I didn't realize until I dumped it on my head.  Well, now I smell lemon fresh!  I took a quick sip and debated going back for water, but as much fun as the reverse course was at B-LO, I decided not to make a repeat performance.  Hit mile 1 in 7:23 and realized I wasn't going to hit my goal of sub 22 - the heat and my legs just weren't having it.  The best part about this run course, aside from the beautiful lake along the whole path, was that it was an out and back....which means I got to see the early starters on their way home!  I high fived the Banter, who was on his way to a second place overall finish (his first podium!) and saw the Outlaw, who took the overall win for the Olympic Distance.  Then I saw Greg, who looked amazing and took 3rd in his age group!  Hit the turnaround just under 12 minutes and headed back.  With one mile to go (mile 2 in 7:19) a woman on a bike passed me and told me I looked awesome and that I had "springs for feet!"  Well that was much needed!  I had passed a bunch of people on the run, but still no sign of the sprint ladies, so I figured I was in that pocket between the fast people and the average joes (I usually race with men for this reason!)  With .5 miles to go I saw Greg and the Banter fam and they yelled something resembling encouragement, so I sprinted to the finish for an overall run time of 23:01 (so close!) a 7:19 pace, and a 1:26:18 overall.  

Which was good enough for 4th place overall and an age group win!  Holy shit!  I won't lie, my first thought was...where the hell was 3rd...I could have freaking overall podiumed...but she beat me out by almost a minute, which means the reason I never saw anyone else was that the first 3 were just enough ahead of me that I had been in 4th place...the whole time.  Not much you can do with that.  3rd place beat me out of the water by a minute, increased by a minute on the bike, and I made up a minute on the run.  With perfect hindsight I could find that minute, but living in the moment of the race, I knew I gave it all I head, and have never come close to 4th overall, so I decided to savor the victory!

Spoils to the (AG) victor

Overall, I was super amped with the day and my results - there is still work to do, and I can't wait for my next tri, which is July 6th in Buffalo - Tri in the Buff!  (No, I won't race naked.  But I won't wear pants.  Somehow in the little Tri-Go fam, I'm known as "Pants"....but that's another story for another time).  I may also be debating another race that would be equally fun and stupid....stay tuned (famous last words).

Thanks to Score This for another excellent race, the volunteers for being excellent, and our own personal sherpas who caught the ridiculousness on video and pics for posterity - you guys rock!

And...in case you were wondering....Bike. Demons. Slayed.  

They say it's what you make
I say it's up to fate
It's woven in my soul
I need to let you go

I can't wait to take my trusty steed out for more exploring and bring that bike threat to my next race! (And, in fact, I have....just over 23 mile outside ride done two days post race)

2019.  Big, Scary. Goals.  Let's do this thing!

Absence of Fear

Well here's a little known one from Jewel. I'm not 100% sold on the lyrics for the meaning of this post, but the title fits, so we're gonna take that one and run with it.

Clearly, we can see that the nature of this blog has turned from the "You can do anything and go get it now!" to...."What happens when x, y, z gets in your way and you can't see beyond the mountain of doubt in front of you?"

Somehow, I always thought kicking ass and taking names was the way to go.  Now I see that the real beauty behind it IS the struggle, that it's totally okay to admit that the inertia of your life can sometimes be completely overwhelming.  It's humbling, thought provoking, but sometimes really hard to find your way out of.

I just start to wonder, when did I become this crazy person that is afraid of everything?  Sometimes the idea of taking even one simple step seems overwhelming, and I've never felt quite so susceptible to failure or judgment in my life.  I really wonder, at times, have I just decided to get my mid life crisis over early, or has the idea of these big, scary goals really totally overwhelmed me?

I don't think it's either.  I think it's more of the fact that when you take a long look at your life, it's easy to see where you want to become a better person.  And chipping away at those goals takes not only time, dedication, and hard work, but a healthy amount of letting go of the perception of the way "things are supposed to be" and moving on to the zone of the "unknown".

This....is scary as fuck.  I've made some good strides, but once I got over the anger of my injury that sidelined me from running, I've realized that it happened for a reason - to remind me that there was way more to life than those big scary running goals.  Both in terms of sport (hello, two week bike and swim focus) and in terms of my other life struggles - work, my relationships with my family and friends, and my ambitions of what the hell I want to do with my life...are finally getting clarity.

 

 I am 100% on the road of the "learning zone", but in the past two weeks, I've taken a big step of going beyond the "fear zone" to tackle some of these big scary goals that exist in other areas of my life.  I've hit on a major goal of shifting perspective to allow space for other's thoughts and feelings, and that while in some instances I think I have the right idea, that I really only know the part of the picture that I bring to the table.  (More on this one later).  

I've accepted that some people in my life just aren't what I need and to not only stop judging them for it, but to accept them for who they are, realize that I can't change them, and fit them into my life accordingly.  I've also realized there are some pretty damned terrific people in my life that I have not given nearly enough credit to, and that its time to step up and be a better person to them.  I've learned with both of these that the best friendships aren't always equal and that there's a delicate balance of who can lean on who and when, as long as it's not always one person doing the leaning and one person doing the giving.  

It's been a really deep few weeks.  And the crazy part is, none of these reflections actually came from running.  I've taken the space to heal my foot, and stayed off of it for ten days - which might seem silly, but seeing as its my longest running hiatus since 2013 and my main source of therapy, I'm proud of the fact that I've not checked myself into the Betty, started wearing a straight jacket, and have any friends left at all.

As a matter of fact, I feel like I'm finally digging myself out of a hole.  Thank god.  Work is better, friendships are better, my personal relationships are better, family is better.  It's a healthy combo of shifting things back to the priority of where they should be, taking myself a hell of a lot less seriously, and stepping into that learning zone to become the person I truly want to be.

Don't get me wrong.  The fear is still there.  The fear of rejection.  Of failure.  Of not being the person I want to be.  But that fear can also be a good thing - sometimes you have to look at it, acknowledge its there, and use it as a tool to move beyond your comfort zone.

And lest you think I forget my roots, its coming back to racing - this time multi sport.  This Sunday marks the start of the 2019 Tri season with a familiar home opener - The Keuka Lake Tri.  I haven't had a good race at Keuka....ever.  I raced it in 2018 to prep for Placid (which was apparently so depressing I never even wrote a race report), and also in 2006, 2008, 2009, 2010 , and 2011.  I've done the Olympic every year, save for 2006, and this year opted for the sprint (.5 mile swim, 14 mile bike, 5k run) both to preserve my foot and give the bike some hell. I really have no race goals other than to give that bike my best damned shot (well, and see what I can do on the swim and the run, which should be good if my foot allows the latter!)  Basically, the last tri I raced was Ironman Lake Placid 2018, and we all know what that did to me....I want to love this sport again and Sunday is the day!

It's time to move beyond the fear zone here.  To take all the lessons I've learned, the work I've done, and to literally mount the beast and move beyond my lack of confidence, excuses, and...well....I suppose other people's opinions of me (though I rarely think of them as negative on the race course....my tri support is strong and I love it).

Just a swim, bike, run, right?

Well, and the transition.  We can't forget that, right?

Well, I know where I'm racking my bike.