Musselman 70.3: Hymn for the Weekend

 So, as a follow up to that post Ironman - "What's Next?" question I got after Iowa...here we are.  Musselman 70.3 was, in fact, next.  I didn't talk much about this race for so many reasons - first of all, I had zero expectations of a race four weeks out from giving it my all at 140.6.  Second of all, it was a pretty dumb move to even do (I'll admit that).  I signed up for this one last summer in a fit of suggestion, and then signed up for Iowa last fall - ironically, in a fit of...suggestion.  Shit.  Whomever called me "highly suggestible" years ago really nailed it (I'm looking at you, Gary).  Now, with that in mind, I had no real issue with these telltale bad decisions - it was more of an expectation management.  Following Ironman, I took the first week extremely easy in terms of volume, then slowly added in a little more volume in weeks two and three, topping the bike at 40 miles and the run at 10.  I did one run with a few tempo miles in week 3, and one twenty minute tempo ride in week 4 - with zero other thought to speed at all.

So, in sum, I had ample base and almost zero speed going into the event, which made a few things clear - the expectations were low for zooms.  I also had a few other problems - I forgot to order more nutrition that I had used for Iowa, and could either fuel on standard Gatorade or cheeseburgers (I opted for the former- and it was a gross mistake) and for some reason, I could not find a saddle that would fit my left nut to save my soul (Which is, of course, a joke, and way more information than you needed - but let's just say I have not been comfortable since late May on my saddle and my left hip was dearly paying for it).  I tested out a few saddles prior to Musselman and called a spade a spade - it would need to be revisited post-race.  

With all that being said, I approached this race with the verve of a finely tuned athlete (sense the sarcasm) - I made a weekend of it with one of my best friends, Gary, who got me back into this mess back in 2019, coached me for two years, and still somehow puts up with my bullshit.  We got our packets Saturday, shitty bike racking space, and drove part of the course, taking a nice pit stop at a winery. Perfect race prep.  I crowd sourced for time goals from my other bestie Ryan, and basically cherry picked some pretty sounding numbers out of a proverbial hat - :37 for the swim (based on
Ironman time), 2:50 for the bike (I don't know, 20 mph ish seemed right) and 1:50 for the run (based on my lackluster runs off the bike since I learned how to ride properly last year).  This added up to about 5:17 plus transitions, which, based on our racking, looked to be about 10 minutes (usually Ironman has a fair racking where you run with your bike the same distance no matter what, but not this one - the later you checked in, the worse your spot, so our row was the perfect spot for maximum bike runnage through the lumpy grass and trees on the side of transition).  Score!

I knew all this, and clearly it made no difference to my approach for the race - but with that being said, I had to laugh at my time goal of 5:27 - as my PR at this race was a 5:36 (from 2019), and my overall 70.3 PR is a 5:17.  I have some pretty lofty goals to break that this fall, but coming off Ironman with almost zero "zoomies" under my belt, it was not in the cards for me and I was okay with that.  

Race morning dawned at early ass o'clock, as it always does - I was at Gary's at 4am, ready to rock.  Transition opened at 5am and closed at 6:15 - Gary needed about ten minutes to prep and I wanted an hour, so we split the difference and planned to arrive at 5:30 - an hour for driving and a half hour for the mile walk to transition.  Best laid plans, right?  We arrived in Geneva at 5:05 am and spent a half hour in a traffic log jam to park.  Joy.  We finally unloaded at 5:35, assuming they would push the race start back as there were hundreds of people behind us (I know, I'm funny).  We hit up the porta potties halfway to transition to find out they were out of TP - shit (literally). Thankfully, on the list of things that I always pack for no reason at all were - wet wipes!  I sort of developed a cult following among the two dozen people in line when I brandished my 72-count cucumber scented wipes and could have easily made my money back in entry fees if I was that sort by selling each square for five bucks.  I'm a nicer person than that, so I took three squares and shared the love.  

Once that riff raff was done, we entered transition at 6:05 to find out the Ironman cared little about the traffic and were promptly closing out access to athletes at 6:15.  Oof.  Thankfully, I really only need ten minutes - I was high organized and pumped up my tires, unloaded my nutrition and set up my bike and run gear with two minutes to spare.  I applied sunscreen (or not - the cap spray busted (F*CK!)) and threw down the rest of my breakfast in haste.  (Gary later admitted it was darn lucky we went with my timeline, as with his, we would have been shit out of luck - I have no idea how all the people behind us managed!) With thirty seconds to go, I gave Gary a hug and tried to grab one minute of serenity.  He offered to follow me and I told him I needed a minute alone (and this would cost me....many more minutes because of this decision).  I headed out of transition at 6:15 and toward the swim corral to find
my :35-:37 swim people.

Or...that was the plan.  Once I got out of transition, I got stuck in the 50–55-minute swim corral and the sheer wall of two thousand people and their supporters stopped me from going any further.  I found a few fellow RATs, Bethany and Aimee, and we joked around about the crowd and settled in, figuring we could navigate the mess and just start further back.  This was a GIANT mistake that would cost me - and I later found out that if I would have just followed Gary and been a pushy dick (Sorry, Gary) that I could have seeded myself with him in the :33-:35-minute swimmers, which would have probably changed my race.  Oh well.  Hindsight being what it is, let's go back to the actual race - which started at 6:30.  And...we waited.  And waited.  We started to joke that with the speed of the time trial start (four swimmers ever five seconds) that we might see people finish the swim before we made it in.  And oh...we did...MANY people, in fact.  We FINALLY made it in the water at 7:08, almost forty minutes after the race start, which meant there was only room to move up in the field, right? HAH!

Swim: 38:32 (1:53/100 yd)

As I ran out to water deep enough to swim, I finally dove into some cold ass water (well, relatively).  The water was 66 degrees, which was a totally fine temp, just a little shocking to the system as I hadn't been able to warm up prior to the race.  The first few hundred or so yards I acclimated and got into a good groove as I hit the first turn bouy and - a shit ton of people.  Or, more accurately, a shit ton of people swimming significantly slower than I wanted to.  I swerved around people left and right, got smacked in the head by people backstroking, and about halfway through got my goggles kicked clean off by a frog kicker.  Oh WTF.  Took a deep breath, fixed my goggles, and resumed the scrum.  I realized really quickly that this seeding thing was a really dumb move on my part but did my best to swim around people and stay calm and focused.  I'm no stranger to the swim congestion, as I remember mass starts to IMLP - they don't bother me, but are admittedly a PITA - so I moved on and just adjusted my breathing and sighting.  The second half of a swim was a mess just like this, dodging people and swimming around them, and I exited the water in 38:32, slower than I wanted to but not unexpected due to the way I started.

Bike: 2:52 (19.4 mph)

As I ran into transition with a hundred of my closest friends, I took a deep breath, and worked efficiently to get the hell out.  The run out was annoying, but after the quarter mile run with my bike at

Iowa, no biggie.  The mount line, though, was absolutely ridiculous.  I saw two dudes bite it as they mounted too close and hit the ground.  I made the decision to run my bike far out on the mount line and got going....for a minute, until the guy in front of my biffed his water bottle and slammed on his brakes to fix it.  We were so boxed in that there was literally nowhere to go, so I slowed to an almost stop to avoid a crash.  This bottlenecking continued for the next few miles, with me hitting about 14 mph, until we got to 96 and it cleared somewhat.  I took a deep breath and settled in.  Or, I didn't.  Honestly, for the first twenty miles or so, I keep passing people that were all over the road - blocking, swerving and just not paying attention.  It was bad.  The new course had a lot of turns and they were all coned off, so if you got stuck behind someone near a turn, you were stuck.  I kept looking at my speed and power and just getting frustrated as hell - it was nowhere near where I wanted to be.  And my mojo just left.  I was cruising along at less than Ironman power, giving no effort and just not caring.  I don't know where I left my f*cks, but they were not on this bike course.  The Gatorade tested terrible.  My hip hurt.  And for all I cared, I was out on a training ride with a bunch of people and oddly enough, a decent amount of traffic.

I wish I could say I changed my attitude.  I didn't.  I had to pee around mile 25 and spent a half hour trying to figure out how to do it on the bike (I did not succeed).  I took in enough nutrition to survive, hated all of it, and counted off my "kills" as I passed them.  I got passed by exactly four women on the bike and passed what seemed like hundreds of people.  Here's where I sound like an elitist douche, but I was just mad at myself for not lining up well and not actually racing.  I checked out.  I was with no one that was challenging me, and I didn't even care. 

I have no more to say about the bike.  It is what it is.  Oddly enough, with my major lack of giving a shit, I only came in two minutes off my goal time - which was obviously low - my power for the ride was 135 watts, NP 143 watts - and that's a good 30 watts lower than race pace.  Mental.  Fail.  Either way, I hoped to find some race f*cks (and a BATHROOM) as I triumphantly hit the lap button and ran into T2.  Uh....twice.  

Run: 1:42:10 (7:51 pace)

CRAP!  I realized I was already on the run mode for my Garmin and as I ran to my bike, and ended the workout. I racked my bike, threw on my run shoes, and booked toward the nearest porta potty - which was not only full, but someone was waiting in line.  SHIT.  I bunny hopped, threw on my race belt, and decided to chance it to the first porta potty at mile one, starting my Garmin again fresh for the run portion, as I wanted a time for the half marathon that was accurate.  As I blew out, I took a breath, and reminded myself that the swim and bike were done and it was time to start fresh.  I smiled at the people  knew as I ran past, and hit mile one in 7:52 - and a porta a potty!  But...it was full.  with TWO people in line.  Oh hell.  I ran on, and danced for the RATs at aid station one.  Mile 2 - 7:48.  Well.  This was not to plan.  I wanted to average about 8:20 per mile on the run, and this was...fast.  But my body felt great, aside from my bladder.  So I decided to just run with it (see what I did there?) and continued on. 

 I felt awesome, and was smiling away.  Ran under the tunnel and out into town and heard....oh WTF is

this....a train??  A traffic controller was yelling at all of us to STOP and we did - dumbfounded.  he explained to us that there was a train coming through and we had to stop.  Are you....joking?  Nope, he wasn't.  I stood there with the rest of the crowd forming (There were about 50 of us) and I'm not proud to say it, but I totally peed myself.  We were out of commission for about five minutes (which we got credited to our times, but don't get me started on this).  Once we were cleared, we all took off, and my first order of business was to rinse myself off at the next aid station!  (Triathlon.  We are so sexy).  

Mile 3 was uphill and I did a quick power walk and grabbed a gel, then once it flattened out, I was off again.  Miles 4, 6, 8, and 11 all faced the same unfortunate feature - we had less than half a lane of road that was coned off into two rows, meaning that only two people could run side by side.  Once again, I was frustrated with where I was in the race, and for the first loop, the congestion was horrid as so many of us were stuck waiting for the train.  I dodged people, ran too close, and at times, hopped the sidewalk.  I felt horrible doing it, but people were stopping to walk in the middle of the lane and I wanted to goooo.  Miles 4 and 5 were pretty good pace wise, between 7:50 and 8:00/mile. I caught up to a dude I thought I knew from the Roc - we had never met but had a mutual friend, so I asked him if his name was Joel - nope, it was Ken.  Whoops.  We leap frogged a bit and he joked with me that he got that all the time.  I told him he needed to pick a new doppelganger, like Blu, and he laughed at started calling me Daniella.  Man, I wish!  But it make me laugh, and that worked.  

Mile 6 was a fun downhill, albeit congested, and I tucked behind another dude holding a great pace.  As I headed to lap 2, I saw Gary about 40 minutes ahead of me, and he gave me a questioning look - he was having a GREAT race but had no idea how far behind him I started, so I gave him a thumbs up.

  Lap 2 was a blast.  I started dancing for the spectators, threw high fives at the RATs (except for Mike, who heckled me - brat).  I gave a shout out to my friend Laura at mile 8, who asked me to pick it up (LOL), and saw Gary at mile 9, about 3 miles ahead of me at this point.  I laughed.  I smiled.  I joked.  I felt GREAT.  And was holding roughly a 7:50 pace.  My old run PR was a 1:47 and I KNEW I was going to break it - but by how much??  I saw my friend Kim at mile 10 (she raced World's with us and we have an ongoing joke, as she taught my senior year of high school as a first year Sociology teacher).  I made a joke about her being my favorite teacher as I passed her, and she scolded me for leaving "my elders" in the dust.  I caught up to Matt Kellman, who called me a Rockstar, and kept smiling away.  It was surreal.  I felt SO STRONG.  And clearly, my f*cks for racing had been in my run shoes all along!!  I sailed into mile 12 in 7:28, my fastest mile yet, and crossed the finish line smiling SO BIG!! YES!!

Post Race

After I finished I ran into Ken, who had a STELLAR race (WOOT) and grabbed my requisite diet coke (don't ask for logic, there is none).  I wandered out into the finishers area and Scott, a newer triathlon friend, waved me over to where he and the real Joel (not the fictitious one I found on the race course) were hanging out.  We chatted about the event and the freaking train, along with the best race course sign we saw on the run "He's a 10 BUT he loves triathlon", which Joel and I posited needed a change to "He's a 10 AND loves triathlon" because HELLO - that's a bonus!  

I literally had no idea what my finishers time was - Scott tracked me and showed me his phone, which was a 5;26, but didn't account for the train time.  After piecing together my Garmin files along with Ironman's T2 time, it worked out to be a 5:20, which is just 3 minutes off of my PR of 5:17:44.  Woah.

  After Ironman finished sorting out their timing mess (I'll skip over the details on that one, but suffice to say it was a total shit show between the train, messed up swim times, and run splits) they officially gave me a 5:17:42, which is a shiny new....2 second PR?  HAH!  I won't take it because its not accurate, but this was par for the day.  Either way, my overall time was way better than I expected, and from what I can figure, I finished in the top 10% of women overall and my age group, with a top 2% for women on the run.  I'll take it!

Gary eventually found me, and I caught up with a few more friends before we left for the day.  I got home at 3:30 and Rob gave me a bear hug and handed me my mountain bike helmet because....it was Sunday.  Our ride day.  And with that, I changed out into new shorts, and was off for a half hour ride with my kiddo - and back to real life!

I have quite a few thoughts about this race, and I'm honestly a little unsure how to feel about it.  I'm blown away by my time - it was way better than I expected.  My run was a solid PR by a HUGE amount - which I needed.  I haven't put together a decent run off the bike (by my standards) in the past two years.  However, I am grumpy with my swim and bike - I made a silly mistake by not treating it like a race in either, and I paid for it.  

I need to work on a few things - open water swimming, my bike nutrition, and saddle.  I'm disappointed in my mental game for the bike, but happy that I rallied it for the run.  I need to put in some good work for both the swim and the bike for Barrelman, along with a few tweaks to nutrition and my bike set up.  However, with that being said, the fact that I came so close to a PR four weeks off an Ironman - and that my old 70.3 PR was on a pancake flat course (Musselman is not hilly but 1750 ft on the bike vs 200 ft at Eagleman is pretty big) gives me good hope that a PR at Barrelman, as long as the weather is decent, is totally doable.

So - we move on.  This was not an A race, and I'm glad of it - there were too many logistical nightmares that I would have been upset if I banked on this one for a PR.  Shit happens, and I'll keep my thoughts to myself about how this race was run, but suffice to say it was a day to roll with the punches.  I learned quite a few things and have eight weeks to prep for my A race - Barrelman 70.3 in September.  I am AMPED to put the work in, and at the end of the day - is there really a better way to spend a Sunday doing what you love most, surrounded by good people?  I think not! (This may in fact be the only tie to the title of this blog post - it doesn't fit, except I had the song stuck in my head all weekend and triathlon was definitely the hymn for the weekend!) Musselman 2022, you were an experience for sure!