Peasantman 2022: Knocked Out

Time for another fabulous race report!  I know y'all left the last post with some concerns - mainly, what kind of drugs is this woman on (I did tell you) and who allows her to hit a publish button?

Well, guys, you do.  All three of you.  I thank you, for real. (Actually, that last post had 342 readers, which means my SEO is on point - what's being searched for, I'm not sure I really wanna know). But....I digress.  On to our race.  When we last left our slightly out of commission hero, I was whining about poison ivy and crappy bikes - where else could we go but up?  

To Penn Yan, apparently!  My buddy Joe race directs a fun race called "Peasantman" which is right in the heart of the finger lakes and has been going on for ten years - he features the only crack at "Steel" versus Ironman distances - with a standard sprint, and a slightly longer than Olympic, Half and Full - that instead of "Iron" are "Steel".  It's a ridiculously fun looking race that's low key, full of medieval fun, and sadly, has conflicted with my race calendar for the past few years.  Not this year!  I signed up for the Olympic ish - which was a 29.5 mile bike, 6.55 mile run, and mile swim.  Awesome.  I had few expectations of this race except to have fun with it (famous last words?)

The day before the race, I worked on RAT's board stuff (our local tri club had its big race coming up the next weekend and I was on cookie delivery duty with my buddy Mike - two hours of walking around in flip flops in a 90-degree day is perfect race prep, no?) I joked around with Mike that I was blaming these bad decisions for poor race execution and I guess we would see who had the last laugh...

The Outlaw (Ryan) came up for the weekend to race, and we all hung out the night before, which was awesome.  I had a little last minute inspo when browsing Slowtwitch and Tim Hola had posted his Norseman recap, complete with video (no guys, I'm not over it and no, I did not sign up for the lottery (crosses fingers behind my back)).  The video was, of course, epic, and stirred up the racing bug in me - complete with words to live by from the RD of the race quoted as - "Comfort will be waiting for you at the end" and a sweet soundtrack embedded on the  bike portion of the video that I pulled the music out of and ended up blasting Canon's "Knocked Out" a gazillion times on repeat - I'm not sure about the tune but the lyrics really got me revved up - 

Ain't no L's I gotta get it, no callin quits'
Gotta Keep movin' no matter how hard it gets

Oh yeah baby.  Its time to race!

Race day dawned early, as always.  Unfortunately for me, ever since I started on the course of prednisone two weeks ago, I've been unable to sleep for more than 3 hours straight (it's getting so, so old), so when the alarm went off at 4am, I'd been up since 1:30 and wasn't fazed at all.  SMH.  I did what anyone does on race day - shelved the tired, the sore, and blasted some music to get it done.  I felt sort of bad for Ryan and Greg as I was alternating between "My Money don't Jiggle" and "Knocked out" while twirling a bagel and dancing badly around the kitchen.  Seriously.  They might be jointly contemplating my demise and to be honest...I don't blame them.  Somehow, we all made it out of the house on time and arrived in Penn Yan without killing anyone - as the clouds darkened, we looked out the window uneasily and wondered what was in store for us.  

Pre race, I set up transition easily and got right into focused race mode flitted around like the crazy idiot that I am, socializing my face off.  I ran into a ton of friends I haven't seen in awhile, and hung out with a new friend, Joel, who I met at Musselman, who made me my own "She's a 10 but" sign for the course to make me laugh, which was totally on point.  I stole his cupcake cartel hat to wear on the run because I have a history of racing in men's stuff why not try something new on race day?? With twenty minutes or so to go, I decided to pretend to be a triathlete and got in a quick swim warm up when I realized I forgot to turn on my bike computer.  Shit.  I ran up to transition and my saint of a husband hooked me up (that man puts up with so much shit, for real).  Back into the water, where I ran into my buddy Lindsey, my fellow dancing unicorn - we saw a rainbow in the sky and did a small dance hug party in the water as the first raindrops started to fall!

Swim:  1750 yd - 31:53 (1:51/yd)

The swim was a mass start (WHAT- this is still a thing and it was awesome!) but I found my rhythm pretty quickly.  It was a rectangle shaped course, with the turnaround buoys for the Oly colored green to match our swim caps.  I spent a lot of timing wondering if I was off course because they looked distinctly yellow to me....which, I was informed later by my dubious husband....that's what tends to happen when your goggles are tinted.  Seriously....I don't know how I don't fall down more. (Face palm). 

The swim was actually pretty uneventful.  I felt great, there was little contact and I couldn't decide if that meant I was doing well or really crappy.  Turns out I was third woman out of the water, so overall, we were doing just fine.  I exited the water with zero to report other than a great swim where I burned no matches and it was off to dance on the bike!

Bike: 29.75 miles - 1:35:53 (18.5 mph)

I really wasn't sure what to expect here.  My friend Marcus and Greg both thought I was doing the sprint up until the day before, and when I replied that I was in for the Oly, they laughed and told me to prep for the hills.  Uh, ok.  Well, I hadn't done much with hills since Iowa, so this would be interesting. 

 Right out of T1, the rain started coming down, and within ten minutes, it was pouring so hard I could barely see.  Standing water pouring.  Sweet.  I was pedaling down 54A going about 17 and I couldn't see for shit. I had a brief Placid moment, guys - I won't lie.  I wondered if maybe it would be wise to call the race.  That lasted about two seconds, and I reminded myself that that was excellent prep for an A race - where I had expectations.  I wiped off my glasses as best I could, settled into aero, and went with it.  

The first part of the course was super slow - which was a bummer, as the descent into Brachport is usually fast.  We made a right turn at mile 11 and I passed a female athlete at that point.  I finally was able to gain some speed here and was averaging about 21 until mile 13 when I encountered my first....horse and buggy??  What??  I gave them room and made the pass, giggling to myself - this was a new one!  This happened again at mile 17, when I actually had to slow behind 3 buggies with oncoming traffic.  I laughed to myself and thought, well, this is a new excuse for a slow bike split!  I was able to pass after a minute or so and the biggest obstacle for the next five miles was the massive amount of horse poop in the road.  This, again, made me laugh because I am such a #serioustriathlete. Take no shit, am I right??

 About mile 20, the rain picked up again and I felt somewhat badass - I was hitting a descent, going 34 in the rain, and a car passed me - and I didn't even flinch.  Sweet. At this point I started leap frogging with a guy on the bike - he would pass me going uphill and I would pass him going down, which is really weird for me.  The final turn onto 14 hit about mile 23, and this was supposed to be the FAST part of the course - unfortunately, with the headwind and rain, it was not meant to be.  My power meter, which was reading perfectly up until then at about 165-170w, hit a high of 2400 watts, then settled between 480-600 for the next 6 miles.  Going downhill.  In case you don't know what that means, I'm roughly the next Kona (male) world champ.  SCORE!  

The rest of the bike was uneventful, save for mile 24, when, after a decade of trying, I FINALLY peed on my bike.  (Uh, for those of you that aren't triathletes, this is admittedly gross, but a skill).  I was super proud of myself for both this and nailing the final "low gear" descent without flinching, and I headed into T2 with a slower bike split than I wanted but knowing that I did what I could with the day. Also - the bike netted over 1500 ft gain, which was doable but yes - there were hills!

As I sailed into T2 with a big ole grin on my face, Greg was cheering me on, and I proudly proclaimed, "I passed four buggies AND I PEED MYSELF!"  Oh...he was recording.  Whoops.  He told me to pull my shit together and get out on the run, which I happily did!

Run: 6.55 miles - 48:32 (7:25 pace)

This run, like the bike, was a bit longer than a standard Olypmic.  We were routed out of T2, where, of course, the rain had stopped and it was humid as shit.  We ran the first mile or so on uneven sidewalk to
avoid bikers, which was honestly a PITA, but everyone had to do it.  As we spit out onto the main road, I saw my biker friend and passed him, telling him to leapfrog me!  He laughed at told me he was too old to catch me, but that I was pretty cute and he wished he could.  LOL.  (I met him later and he was pretty awesome, even if he hit on me in spandex - I love our little community).  The first half of the run was great, I was all smiles, and had plenty of boost from people watching who yelled out how great and strong I looked.  I was averaging 7:30 pace, which seemed a bit fast for me but hey, I'll take it.  I wasn't sure what place I was in, as I had passed some people on the bike and had no clue if there was still a woman in front of me.  As I counted the men off I saw three ahead of me and no women.  Wait, WHAT.  I was 4th??  Hit the turnaround in 24:30 and headed back - and after a minute I saw second place female behind me.  So, okay, two minutes back.  We have shit to do. Because....who knew what pace this woman was running?? Was she gonna catch me?  Oh hell no, not if I could help it. 

I slowed for a few seconds to down a gel and get my breathing calmed at the next hill, then hit the gas.  I passed one dude, and my game face came on.  Miles 4 and 5 clicked by between 7:15-7:20. I smiled as people cheered me on but was completely in the zone, as "Knocked Out" played over in my brain - 

When I'm focused I'm dangerous
Aint no limit till I tank
I'm runnin' on fumes, the opposition dont amaze 

As I hit mile 6, I was completely in the hurt locker.  I reminded myself that comfort would be there for me at the end - and that was NOT now.  With a half mile to go, I gave it my all, gritted my teeth, and finished strong with a sub seven minute last .55 mile to go.  

As I crossed the finish, all my friends cheered me on and affirmed that I FREAKING WON the women's race and came in 3rd OVERALL, including the men.  HOLY SHIT! (Also, apparently, I put down five more minutes over second place, winning by seven...that song was some powerful stuff!!)

Post-Race

After I regained some semblance of breathing, it was totally time to party - or at least as much as you can after a near three hour effort!  I was knighted by the queen (this was so cool) and got my winner's plaque (and free entry to next year's race - sweet!).  After I changed, we all grabbed beer from the beer tent and hung out - it took me approximately half a beer to achieve tipsy (wait, you're supposed to eat after a race??) and I hung out with Marcus, Maria, Greg, Dave, Jeremy, and my new bad decision friend Joel, who had lots of ideas about my 2023 season (get in line buddy - and uh, yep, I'm in!) It was an epic day and I'm still blown away - I've been racing for seventeen years and have never won a tri - and this year, I've won two!  Crazy stuff.  I have to say, I felt a lot better about Musselman after this race and am ready to get it done for the second half of the season. Once they let me out of the penaly tent, apparently (Yes, I'm a lightweight. I'm totally okay with this).

Up next is The Rochester Triathlon (well, it already happened as the timing of this post is eight days post race - whoops) but for all intents and purposes, at the post race wind down of Peasantman - this was the next dance - a local sprint and Olympic that I helped organize and execute and uh...once again...was running for fun.  Stay tuned as to how that one panned out, and if you're looking for a fun later season race that's affordable and fun - highly recommend Peasantman! 

Confessions of a Triathlete: The Predisone Edition

 Well, its been awhile since I've spilled all with a confessions post!  To be very frank, its been a hell of a month.  I had a whole post outlined sharing a little dose of reality, and, quite frankly, a big ole chunk of cheese with my whine about the last four weeks or so...then I did the smart thing and just backed that thang up with a good ole dose of delete, delete, delete.  Who needs that crap?  We don't.  If I'm gonna bitch to you, I'll at least try to make it mildly entertaining.  Because you know what happens if you can't laugh....and I'm not a big crier.  Maybe.  Shh.

Fact of the matter is, I've been feeling some sort of way since Musselman and I can't quite pinpoint it.  I gave myself all the grace in the world post Ironman Des Moines, and really didn't expect much out of myself for Musselman 70.3 - which might have been the problem.  I flat out didn't listen to my body
and ended up being vaguely dissatisfied with the whole race - which is cool - they can't all be A races. Post tri, I gave myself a week to recover, then battened down the hatches for part two of this epic season - to include my crazy ass Barrelman goal and a handful of local races where, in addition to trying to do everything fast, I was all about the party of racing local and embracing the community, grassroots side of multisport that I adore.

Except the hatches....weren't battening so well.  I had a decent first week off the blocks, then a week where nothing worked well.  All my bikes felt flat, slow, and quite frankly, disastrous.  I finally figured it out - not only did I have an issue with my front derailleur rubbing my chain (no bueno for lots of reasons), the new pump I had just bought was reading hella low - which meant all my rides were taking place at 40 psi lower than normal (60 vs 100).  Well, that would do it.  Easy fix. Hold my beer....errr, skratch.

Week two brought some run speedwork and a ditch dive midway through a half mile repeat to avoid a car on a narrow road - which - of course- was a ditch infested with poison ivy.  For those of you that don't know me well enough yet, I'm pretty resilient, but the ivy is straight up my demise.  I didn't realize I had it for a day or two, and then it spread horrifically - including my face, in between my fingers, and my whole left hip and leg, which blew up to twice it size and no longer bent well enough to ride outside.  Lovely.  Four days later, I finally called the audible and involved modern science- a twelve-day supply of prednisone, which got rid of my "Freddy Krueger face" and Michael Jackson glove (yes, I wore gloves for four days, and moonwalked upon request), but has done absolute shit for my mental well-being and ability to sleep. On the bright side, I managed to avoid the weight gain side effect and am rockin' race weight quite nicely (SMH, not the goal). 

So, here we are.  Despite all my bullshit, the last week of training has been a decent success, even though I'm running on a solid 2-3 hours of sleep a night, a complete lack of ability to judge my body's effort at anything (I've felt drunk most of the time, which seriously calls into question some of these workouts), and have consequently done the only thing possible under such situations - revised my late season triathlon goals,  made some ridiculous life choices for  2023, and a few other debatable decisions that may or may not come back to bite me in the butt. (For all of you that have stuck by me and been the equivalent of holding a drunken sorority girl's head over the bowl, I thank you.  Really.)

For lack of a better descriptor, I completely been filter free the past week - which is both good and bad.  I've been pretty up front about my big 40 coming up soon - while I have absolutely no fear of hitting "mid life" I've decided unequivocally to embrace the fact that by societal definition, I'm pretty much given full permission to have a damned life crisis this year.  Am I right, or am I right?  I possibly hit most of my quota in the past few weeks, cause if you've a mind to do it right, do it big (that's what she said).  And, with that in mind, I have a few confessions....fueled by prednisone and a mid season/mid life crisis....that I've come to realize lately.....

1.  Don't be Afraid to Flip the Script Halfway Through.  About two weeks into this whole shitshow of a month, I realized that not only was my body (and bike) going through a few tantrums, but I was right in the middle of a mid season slump.  I absolutely adored everything about multisport, but the pressure of a sub 5 half ironman was weighing on me after doing some pretty epic shit in the front half of the year, like winning my first tri (still so weird) and banking a big PR at 140.6.  So I took the pressure off.  While I still am gonna try for a big PR at Barrelman if the day allows, I removed the number goal from my brain and have felt so much better about life since.  I'm still training, of course, but the goalpost has been moved to a few other much bigger goals that are more long term.  What are those goals?  Well, TBD.  But they're gonna be big.  Patience, young grasshopper.  Patience (no, I did not take up kung fu.  yet). 

2.  Fuck it Up.  Epically.  Along with #1 comes the realization that jumping off a ledge, is, in fact, a thing.  There have been a few moments in the past month, where, either inspired by someone else's crazy life choices (no, I did not sign up for any foreign extreme races, thank you) or by looking at some long range pipe dreams, that I've made some leaps that will either bring amazing things, or I'll fall flat on my face.  It's scary.  It's exhilarating. And I cannot freaking wait to see what happens.  Life is meant for taking chances and living - not for playing it safe and wondering...what if?

3.  Know when to leave the past in the past.  It's done.  Move on.  This equally applies to my last race and letting go of some of the shit I've been holding on to about myself and other people for the past few years.  There's some kind of phrase about living life with the ratio of a rearview mirror and a windshield - you need both, but in the right proportions.  You are where you are now because of the choices you've made in the past.  They are done, and the next step you take is determined by you - where do you want to be?  What do you want?  And how can you get it?  

This one also applies to the people you meet along the way - which has been a tough one for me, personally.  I have met so many people in the past few years since I decided to jump on this " try new shit, live fully" train, and I have 100% applied life lesson #2 in so many ways.  I've also made some beautiful new friendships and experienced things that I still can't believe - I can't regret any of the choices I've made because they shape who I am today, but I've admittedly struggled a bit as to when to hold on to something and when to let it go.  It's a work in progress. 

4.  Don't be Afraid to Embrace New People and Situations....but know who you can trust with your head and your heart.  As a follow up of #3, another lesson about balance.  There's a mixed purview of how much of yourself to put out there in the world - whether its personally, in competition, or in any situation. I err toward being a completely open book - about my goals, my successes, and my struggles. 

 It's a mixed bag - I don't regret being candid about where I am with things in terms of hitting it out of the park or being a hot mess, but I've learned that there's a line with who I can trust on the surface and who I let into my head and my heart.  The first one, oddly enough, being the harder one to master - while I seem pretty confident on paper, my self perception can sometimes be lacking.  As an adult learner to the sport of running and triathlon, it still blows my mind that this is my world, and sometimes I revert back to the "I'm not good enough for this shit" mindset - which - depending on who I surround myself with, can be exacerbated or kicked right to the curb by my cheerleaders.  I'm not 2018 Rae, looking for the RD to cancel the bike.  I'm also not 2019 or 2020 Rae with the fear of racing a bike or riding in aero.  I'm here.  I'm now.  And it's a fine mix when I step it up and walk into a situation that forces me to level up - how much I share of me.  

I tend to over trust, and assume the best of people - and that likely won't change.  But I'm slowly learning how and when to be vulnerable to someone and when to meet someone at a more superficial level.  It might sound a bit harsh, but its not -  some people that I meet on a less personal level are still absolutely amazing people in my life, and I hope I can be the same!  And during the course of the past few years, I've met some people that I trust with my everything - and they have become key people in my life - some I have known for years, some for only a few months.  I am so grateful for these people.  Some were there for a short time, and now the friendship has faded or shifted, and that's okay too.  There's wisdom in meeting people where they are - I have so many friends right now that give and receive in different capacities and they all play such an important role in my life, but knowing who fits where is key - to both my mind and heart. 

5.  Know who your ride and dies are.  Oh this is a big one.  The place where I flat out struggle the most is....I look like I have my shit together (for those of you that see my meme sharing on Facebook, you can quit giving me the side eye, thanks).  I look strong.  I look confident.  And in most of my life, I'm in a place where people come to me for the answers and expect me to fix shit when it breaks.  So what happens when I completely lose it?  Well, I found that out in the past few weeks, for sure.  I completely lost it - I was not doing well physically, mentally or really, with anything.  I had to take that first step and actually admit that I had none of my shit together - a poison ivy infested, prednisone infected hot mess.  I was pretty sure I was striking out at every capacity - as a mom, wife, friend, family member, athlete, and boss.  

And something beautiful happened.  My people showed up.  Some of them have absolutely no idea what they did or how - they pulled me out of a slump when I needed it just by completely being themselves.  Some of them have no clue anything was even wrong and that's okay too - you never have any idea how you impact someone's life just by being you - but I know it.  And some of them....watched the fall...and stepped in and showed me how much they damned cared.  And that last one....was so huge.  I'm not used to fallibility and knowing who I can lean on was so damned beautiful.  It gave me the courage to admit where I was struggling and to let some of it be what it was, but also to see the wonderful balance of making a plan to dig myself out and get on with the business of tearing it up -  and going after everything that's on my list to slay. 

My filter free people.  You need those in your life - the ones where you don't have to be on your toes all the time.  The ones where you can step back and say....holy shit....that might have been off or weird, but I'm trying here, work with me.   And....as I'm rounding a corner, I have nothing but love for these people.  You know who you are.  And whether you dried my tears, hit "submit" on that race registration, listened to my phone or text rants, or provided that quiet "I never doubted you" friendship.... I thank you. More than you know. 

And so, we move on to the next step.  Sometimes these mid season slumps exist to show you that you can, in fact, work through the hard things.  And that makes the success all that much sweeter.

We are heading into the end of the multisport season - this weekend is Peasantman Olympic, a local grassroots race that I've been dying to race in for years.  Next week is the Rochester tri, which I'm helping execute, and also sprinting for fun.  There's no expectation for these races other than a party with many of my favorite people and the love of sport - and I cannot wait!  (And thankfully, I'm no longer communicable, on anything, and back to normal.....uh.....or at least two outta three!)