70.3 Worlds Part 3: Highway to Hell

 First of all, congrats if you've made it this far!  Welcome to the conclusion of a long, drawn out race report on the adventures of World's 70.3 2021 - in case you missed it, here's my arm chairing on the swim and the bike.  TLDR - the swim was warm, wet, and the easy part (TWSS?).  The bike included every element known to man except calm and cloudy conditions.  We left part 2 in a massive downpour, where I created a giant mess in T2 with my crap, grabbed a quick potty break, and then headed off for the RUN!

A few notes about this run - in consistent St. George fashion, nothing about this course was flat.  It was divided into 2 6.6 mile loops of fun - the first three miles included 2 major climbs, the next 3 were rolling to downhill, and the last half mile was a screaming, quad busting downhill that was so steep it was deemed almost unrunnable. Total elevation gain in 13.1 miles - 1260.  Piece of cake, right?

This is worlds people, what did you expect?  Pancake flat and 60 degrees with cloud cover?

Well, yes, that would have been sweet, but we were playing a different game today!

As I took off on the run I multi tasked by throwing on my visor and race belt and securing my handheld.  My goal was to fill up with water at the first stop and hang on to the handheld - ya know, for the 100 degree sunshine we were supposed to have.  Oh, wait...

I cruised up the first few minutes of the first hill and saw a woman ahead of me that was struggling.  As I passed her, I joked "Did you remember your sunscreen re-application?" and she busted out laughing and thanked me for making her smile.  We chatted for a bit - this was her second ever 70.3 after she qualified in Florida - she confessed that she was not used to these hills!  I told her I was from NY but qualified at pancake flat Eagleman and we had a good laugh.  We slowed to a walk at the first aid station and I refilled and took back off after she encouraged me to go ahead.  

I actually felt pretty good - the roads were flooded and my shoes were already wet, but this was sort of pleasant on the run.  I had already decided to adapt my Cassadagaman strategy and walk the major hills - I developed a decent run walk back during my Ironman man days - I would count to 100 with my right foot strike, 100 with my left, then walk for 100 paces.  Don't knock it till you try it - it has always served me well!  This came into play about mile 2.5, when the major hill happened.  I had already thrown out my sub 6 about 3 hours ago, so I was solely looking for a strong half marathon, goal pace being 9:00/mile.  

The first two miles clocked respectably in at 8:23 and 8:50, and we started run/walk at mile 3, which, incidentally is when it stopped raining and the sun came out full force.  Blazing sun during the run?  WHY THE HELL NOT??  At this point in the course there were at least a couple of dudes dancing around rockin' skimpy speedos, so I sped up to um, get past them as quickly as possible (I didnt ogle.  I am a total liar professional.  C'mon).  Mile 3 - with elevation gain of 226 - netted a 9:53, then the fun began.  Mile 4 was slight uphill but not as bad - 8:46, then I began a cruise for the next 3 miles, hovering from a 7:46 mile to an 8:15.  The rollers weren't too bad, I got a high five from a hot dog and a frog prince (I cant make this up) and even made it through the downhill of death without killing my quads.  I finished the first loop in 57 minutes, which left me a nice padding for my sub 2 goal.  Except....did I want to rethink that? 

I looked at my watch and did some quick math - if I did the next loop in 53 minutes I could go under 6 - I could totally do 6 miles in 53 minutes, right?  Even though we were on the highway to hell via hills?  YES!

Oh wait - no.  It was 6.5 miles, not 6. So, I guess 8:00/mi wasn't reasonable with the hill of death ahead.  I reset my goal to a 6:05, and headed back up the first hill.  As I tried to keep a decent clip, I realized that final coup de grace of the course was that obviously they made the hills bigger on the second loop - WTF was this?  I slowed to a walk, took a gel, and speedo man ahead yelled out at the top of his lungs "GIRL GET YO BUTT IN GEAR! YOU DIDNT COME HERE TO WALK!"  Who me?  Oh yes, me lol.  I started running, high fived him, slapped off some vaguely flirty comment that made him laugh, and went after it. 

 The rest of loop two was about the same - walk/run at the major hills, then keep a decent clip otherwise.  I actually felt pretty good - a few twinges in my right knee that were probably from the bike, but the one bonus to biking conservatively was that my legs were good for the run (I passed SO. MANY. PEOPLE.  I suspect they blew it on the bike - which - while I felt my bike split could have been better, maybe it was  blessing I took it easier). 

When I hit mile 12, the tingles began to take over - I finally realized that after the last 6 hours - the last week - the last 3 months - the last 3 years - that OMG I was going to finish this thing....and I got super emotional.  This was the downhill clip from hell, but I didn't care.  I was flying.  I was smiling.  I could not believe I was AT. WORLDS.  OMG.

With half a mile to go, I heard someone yell out "Go Reaper!" (I got this quite a bit during the race, which is a reason I love my freaking team) and I looked over to see a petite woman on the sidelines cheering out.  OMFG It's HEATHER F'ING JACKSON.  SHE JUST YELLED TO ME.  I reached out for a high five and she gave me one, all grins.  And guys.  I FLEW after that.  (Full disclosure, I have a huge crush on Heather Jackson - she is my tri idol and I absolutely adore her.  I am never washing my high five hand.  Ever).

With that race ending high, I sprinted to the finish and threw my hands up, the biggest grin on my face, walking on air.  

Run time: 1:55:14 - 8:49/mi

Total Race Time: 6:05:27

Post race, I was sherpaed by the coolest kiddo ever who got me my medal, t shirt, towel and made sure I was okay (Thanks Cory!).  Got my pic snapped, handed out a few high fives, and caught up with Marcus and Ken - who had equally tough days but were so thrilled to finish!  We hung around waiting for Kim to finish (who pronounced the race the hardest thing she'd ever done and vowed that giving birth was easier - now if that's not an assessment of the day, I don't know what was!)

We called home, checked in for all those that saw the storm via live feed and assured them we were alive, there were no mechanicals, and that the day was just that fucking crazy.  Over cheeseburgers, salty fries, alcohol, and Penn Sate football we celebrated the day - the day that would live on infamy not only for the four of us, but 3,500 of our comrades in the battle of World's 70.3 2021.

We all agreed that even though no one got close to their time goal, it was a race for the ages.  In the next few days, we shared videos, stories, and tried to explain what really happened out there.  But like most good adventures - what happens at St. George....stays in St. George.  I can't explain the day any better than that.  It was a race for the ages.  One I'll never forget.