Barrelman 2022 - Stop This Train

 And... the final multisport race of 2022 is done!  After the whirlwind week leading up to Barrelman half ironman, I was in a really weird spot with the race - it had started out as an A race early season with some legit goals (sub 5) , then took a back seat to more of a "Let's try to PR this thing" but have fun with it.  After the whole passport fiasco, it had properly been placed in the " let's have fun trip" with a side goal of fast.

Saturday morning, the day before the race, Mike (RATs prez, fellow bad decision maker) and I headed for Canada to check in and commence our little weekend road trip.  Rest assured, we made it across the boarder just fine, albeit a little slowly as we got into a detailed training plan with border authority and how he too could go from smoking a pack a day to racing barrelman in 2023 with us!  Oh Mike.  This dude could sell ice to an Eskimo, I swear.  

Once we finally got to Welland, we took care of business rather quickly and got our packets, racked our bikes, and caught up with friends.  We hit the basin for a quick swim sans wetsuit, as it seemed to be borderline as to whether or not it would be wetsuit legal (that would be 24 in Canada, which equates to 75.2 in dumb American).  The water felt refreshing and amazing, and it was zero problems to swim wetsuit free.  Without any drama, we finished our pre race site checklist and headed to the Air Bnb for dinner and last minute details.  I was still pretty unsure of my goals for the race - Mike was gunning for a sub 5 and while it sounded good, I couldn't get the math to work in my brain - I had the rough goal of 36-38 on the swim, 2:40 for the bike and 1:45 for the run, plus transitions, which worked out to about 5:05-5:10 with transitions.  Fair enough.  My PR is a 5:17 so I figured I'd go for broke on the swim and bike, and if I shook out to a 3:15 or less going into the run, go for that sub 5.  Not much else to mention pre race except I somehow managed to pack my race fuel and no scoop to measure, so I emptied a K cup that looked about twice the size of my scoop and hit it that way - what a fun game to play - was I getting 600 calories of nutrition - or 200? Or 1200?  Stay tuned!  (Post race notice - a K cup is almost exactly twice the size of the Skratch scoop - am I good or what??)

Race morning dawned....not so early.  With an 8:42 wave start (YES for non time trial start!) Mike and I were up and moving naturally at 4:30 for a 6am departure to T2 - this race has two transitions, so we drove to T2 and were bussed to T1 to set up our bikes and get ready to rock.  It was a warm and windy morning, and on the 45 minute ride to transition, I felt really queasy - like - throwing up type of queasy.  I wasn't sure if it was nerves but my stomach was a mess. This continued until the beginning of the race and definitely affected my nutrition - my own fault but what can you do.  Before I knew it, our wave was up (Mike and I started at the same time, which was pretty cool!) I jumped off the dock, swam to the start, and seeded myself aggressively within the wave - toward the front third and all the way to the right.  Stomach, passport, and nerves be damned - let's DO THIS!

Swim: 38:42 (1:49/100 yd)

The Barrelman swim is advertised as long, at 2000m instead of 1900, which is the standard half distance.  I knew it and accounted for it.  The cool part about this swim venue is that not only is it sheltered in a basin, there's a cable underwater a la Lake Placid, where if you're brave enough to swim with the scrum, you never have to sight.  I'm brave enough, so for the first few hundred yards I survived the battle and swam with the cable directly to my right line of breathing sight, which was perfect.  About five minutes into the swim, my goggles started to slow leak in the right eye socket, so I adjusted them - this did no good and I had to do a dump ever few hundred yards or so, which was annoying.  The first half of the swim was slightly current assisted, and the way back a little wavier, but nothing to write home about.  I found a swim buddy on the way back and aside from a few smacks when we got too close, kept a perfect rhythm that was only altered when I had to goggle dump.  Not much else to say about the swim except for I probably need to learn to get out of my comfort zone more for next year - I seem to find a perfect rhythm between 1:45-1:50 pace in OWS for a race and know I am capable of going faster.  I burn no matches but it hurts my time, so we shelf that for next years goals.  Out of the water just over 38 minutes and on to the bike!

Bike: 2:40:44 (20 mph)

I was so excited about this bike.  Three years ago I biked a 2:48 and that was before I began to ride in aero - I clocked a 2:38 at Eagleman last year for a 21mph and average and had designs to do the same here. I got stuck out of the gate at the mount line by some guy hogging the whole area and basically sitting down for coffee, so I ran my bike further up and was off without embarrassing myself (yeah, I'm prone to do that in T1).  Within seconds, a massive headwind smacked me in the face and continued attacking for the next hour - I was on a flat road, going 15 and cursing the whole time.  The trees were an indicator of the winds, and the alternating cross had me blowing a bit sideways.  Nothing scray (I remember Utah) but definitely indicative of my speed.  The goal here was to, of course, go fast, but also head Mike off as long as I could - I'm a better swimmer, he's a better cyclist, and I'm a better runner, so the race was on!  I hot the turnaround at mile 14, averaging 16.9 (WTF) and was immediately granted some nice tailwind relief for a few miles, as I saw Mike behind me!  I downed a gel, narrowly avoided a crash brought on by an aggressive driver (cyclists okay, thank goodness) and headed right for some more crosswind fun.  Mike passed me at mile 17 (on the inside at a U turn because he's a dick) and after some good natured ribbing, I continued on.  The next ten miles were mostly tailwind, thank goodness, and I was making nice progress with increasing my overall MPH when I heard....a fucking train whistle.  WHAT. THE. HELL.  Sure enough, I saw a train coming out of the right peripheral vision and cursing, stopped my bike.  Almost 3 minutes later, we were off again - about twenty of us impacted.  Thank god I stopped my garmin (this would be important later) but I'll admit I was super annoyed - a stop on the bike robs you of all momentum and this was the second train of my season - both at 70.3's.  I've been racing since 2005 and have never been stopped for a train - what was up with 2022??

The rest of the bike was rather uneventful - the new course was a bit hillier than 2019, but nothing crazy, and I definitely think we had more cross and head than tailwind, but it is what it is.  At mile 50, I knew my mph was not going to be what I wanted it to be, so when I saw the race course photographer, I nailed a five year goal of mine and hammed it up in the "pathetic triathlete" pose - something that, before this year, I probably would have crashed my bike doing.  Success!

Coasted into T2 with a bike split of 2:40 and change, for 20 mph (bike course slightly short).  It was time to run!

Run: 1:45:01 (8:11/mi)

With the race clock at 3:25, I knew a sub 5 wasn't in the cards, and that was okay.  It had gotten pretty warm out (31C, which is about 88 Fahrenheit. )  I took off behind a strong looking runner, and averaged 7:45 for the first few miles - I saw Mike about 4 minutes ahead of me, which was a pleasant surprise (for me, not him).  I felt pretty decent - focusing right ahead and a steady clip, until mile 2.5 when I hit "dumbass hill" the affectionately named hill that is, well, a total dumbass hill that I'm better off power walking.  I took in some nutrition and was passed by Jennie at the top of the hill, who was on her second loop and looking strong (of course, being a pro, she has to pretend as such anyways!)  We joked for a bit and she was off.  I picked up the pace again and was running about a 7:30 when Jennie passed a guy ahead of me like a rocket and he looked so dejected I told him - hey - don't worry, she's a pro, she's supposed to go fast!  He laughed and asked her pace, and I replied in miles, not thinking, and we had another laugh.  I was going slightly faster than him so I moved ahead and wished him luck, and he called out after me - hey, are you a pro too, or do you run that fast for free?  Oh dude.  You made my day!

Caught up with Mike about mile 4, who was in pain.  I walked with him for a minute, then picked it back up after lamenting about the fucking train.  The rest of loop 1 was pretty decent, clocked in 50 minutes flat.  I knew I didn't have that in me for loop 2 - it was hot and my stomach was so off.  I dry heaved a few times and got in what I could with a decent run walk strategy.  I played leapfrog with two women - Amy and Ashley - one was in my AG and one was not. I kept an eye on the time and knew a 5:10 was possible if I kept at it, and the last 6 miles were a calculated mix of run/walk to make it happen.  I picked it up the last mile or so and crossed the finish line in 5:10:15 by my watch - a seven minute PR!

Post Race

After the race, I caught up with Ashley, the woman in my AG I was chasing that beat me - or had she?  She didn't get stopped by the train, but I had no idea if the results accounted for it.  I checked the Sports stats app and saw my time as 5:12:14 which meant - they hadn't.  I wouldn't have cared except for two key things - it was a PR, and it knocked me down to 4th in my AG.  Holy crap.  A quick chat with the timers cleared that up - you just had to show them your Garmin time - they gave a max of 90 seconds for the train, which cost me two minutes, but I would take it!  It turned out that the winner of my AG was the overall winner, so I came in 2nd AG, and in the top 10% of women, 15% overall.  Hell yeah.  I'll take it.  This was my first AG placement in a large half iron distance race, and I was so excited - a nice bottle of wine and $50 of running goodies are an alright payday for a race I didn't even think I'd make it to!

And with that, multisport season 2022 is a wrap.  Another season that blew my mind - a big Ironman PR, and PR's for the sprint and half iron distances - along with 3 overall wins (I have never won a tri prior to this year. Ever).

I have things to work on for 2023- my swim needs some work in the open water, and post Ironman, I never followed up with speedwork on the bike, which showed for the shorter stuff.  But there were some huge gains as well - I absolutely learned how to handle my bike well and be comfortable on it, and how to maximize my run off the bike, which led to some pretty awesome successes!

I'm really excited for fall running season - I have a fall race I'm starting to prep for, and an epic 2023 in the works already - stay tuned!  But if someone could....Stop the train...for next year, that would be great :-)

Oh Canada

 Ahhh, the joy of taper.  It's funny, I've done long course multisport for over a decade and every time I feel like I have the taper nailed, something always happens.  Note that I hate tapering, on principle.  It's a total mind job where you question all of your training and fitness and have time on your hands to overthink away about where it all went wrong and how you are destined to fail at the upcoming race. And when you think you've found all the ways you are SURE you won't make it to the start line...well....

Oh boy, do I amuse myself.  Even though I had downgraded Barrelman a few weeks back to a fun race, I decided to be wise and do a little week long taper to prep and hit the race as best as I could.  I thought I would be in for some grumpiness, a few questions about my glute (which is FUBAR, btw, but still lets me do something resembling biking) and a few blips on race prep.

So... every time I think I have life down, it hands me another crazy thing.  I finally started my race prep Monday night - for a half Ironman I don't think too far down the line, but wanted to make sure I had enough french fries and gravy nutrition and fresh batteries in my power meter, etc.  So I lugged out my pre-race checklist from Iowa and updated it for this weekend - adding in the extras I needed to pack, like my vaccination card.  On the advice of Mike, the buddy I was travelling with, I downloaded the ArriveCAN app to upload my stuffs for the border.  It asked for my COVID proof of vax, etc. to ensure easier crossing.  It also asked for my passport, which I hadn't touched in awhile, so I put it on my "to do" list for Tuesday to find it - we keep all our important paperwork in one location, but since the move in 2020 I hadn't bothered to dig it out - who was travelling that year??

I went to bed Monday, thinking nothing of it.  As I started to pass out, I randomly thought about passports and wondered how long they were good for.  A quick google told me - 10 years.  Sweet.  I went to Jamaica in 2018, so I was all set.  I drifted off and woke with a start -wait- did I renew it then?   When DID I renew it?  We went in 2012as well.....oh shit.  SHIT! So, at 10:30 at night, I tore the house apart looking for my passport which I found and it...expired in....February 2012.  OHMYFREAKINGGOD.  Another quick google search told me I could travel with an enhanced license - did I have that?  Nope.  Timeline?  6-8 weeks for a passport renewal.  Two weeks for an enhanced license.  I had....five days.  FUCK!!  The rest of Monday night Greg and I googled expedited passport agencies - I could get one in 24 hours for....$800.  You have GOT to be kidding me.  About 1am, we found one in Buffalo that would do it 24-48 hours for $60 extra.  YES!!

Tuesday morning I woke up early, filled out the passport application and had Greg take my mug shot.  I was on the phone at 8am with the service and they told me that they had a 9am appointment!

  In...Vermont.  Turns out this was a national service and they had places all across the country.  Since I had left my Concord in my "other jacket pocket" I asked about closer and they said the soonest Buffalo appointment was on September 20th.  This was perfect for a September 18th race. 

 Shit. I asked about walk ins.  Nope.  I asked about hanging out in the lobby waiting for a cancellation - turns out, they won't even let you in the door without an appointment.  A waiting list?  Also, no.  You had to keep calling and trying.  Perfect.  I tried three more times that day, and was able to locate appointments in NYC and Atlanta. Again, fun places, but....not in a day. This...was not good.

After a miserable 24 hours, I finally admitted the race wasn't going to happen.  By all accounts, I could get IN to Canada with an expired passport, but not home.  And as much as I like poutine, I was not down to hang out at immigration for an indeterminant amount of time.

Guys, I was crushed.  This was not an A race...but I had hopes for this one.  My Air Bnb host was awesome enough to give me the number for border patrol to try to see what could be done, but it was a wing and a prayer.  Was I willing to risk it?  Nope.  I also reached out to the RD with help from Mike, to see if I could transfer the entry to someone who was less of a dumbass another athlete - nope.  They were awesome enough to offer me some options for next year - and I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to have to get rip roaring drunk this weekend and feel sorry for myself.  I felt like such a giant idiot but - who has legit checked their passport since 2020?  And, I'm showing my age but - for most of my life, a trip to Canada was no big deal - you needed a birth certificate or license.  As a matter of fact, up until July 1 ,2022 - you could cross the border with an expired passport.

First world problem, guys. I know.  But it made me grumpy. And sad.

Wednesday morning, I went for a run.  I was starting to try to pick myself up and work toward some of my fall goals...gotta pivot somehow.  But I decided to try one last time.  I got back and called the service at 8:30, telling myself that if it didn't work out, Tri season 2022 was done and that was okay.  The woman that answered told me that they had a 12:30 appointment.

In. BUFFALO.

OMG!  I took off like a shot, printed my paperwork, and zoomed to Buffalo, in line at 11am to be early and sure of success.  The appointment went off like a charm, and they told me to come back at 3pm to see if the paperwork could be processed.  I drove to a Starbucks, worked remotely, drank seven gallons of coffee, and 3 hours later....I had A FREAKING PASSPORT THAT WAS CURRENT.

For the $60 dumbass fee and 8 hours in Buffalo,  I WAS IN.  Only me, right?  As I retell the story, people laugh and say...only you.  And only you would pull a rabbit out of your ass and fix this in 48 hours. This is, without a doubt, the craziest, dumbest pre race story I've ever told.  Of course, the drive home took 3 hours because they stopped all eastbound traffic, due to the fact that Kamela Harris was travelling in Buffalo.  Who cares.  'Merica. 

And with that, my race goals have changed.  Again. I am so damned happy and excited to race this weekend - I had no idea how much I wanted to go until it might not have been a thing.  While Barrelman might not be an A race in terms of my time goals, it's gonna be the AMAZING race I went to in 2019 - Let's GO LET'S GO LET's GO!

Stay tuned for the trip across the border for some Canadian fun - I'm #280 and I plan to kick it up and light a fire under this race!!

Amendment

 So, here's a curveball you didn't see coming.  It's time for a serious post.  I know, we don't do serious here, but I'm going to rely on a few things  - again, the concept of balance - and also - I can't stay silent about this one.

My post about the Roc tri felt a little forced, to be honest - I had it mostly ready to go, and planned to publish it Wednesday.  As I proofed it (and did a shitty job TBH) I hesitated on the "publish" button.  Why?  Eliza Fletcher. 

 As many of you know, the woman that disappeared last week during her morning run in Memphis was identified on Wednesday - I hate that word.  Identified.  You can't say found, because she wasn't really found - at least, not in the sense that gives anyone anything other than closure.  And while we don't have all the answers yet, it's pretty clear what happened - she, like so many of us, went out for an early morning run - was abducted, and killed.  

It makes me sick.  And I've been feeling heavy about life the past day because of it.  I'm mad, scared, horrified, and mad all over again.  I took the past few days to process it - I won't say I have fully - but on my ride yesterday, I started to conceptualize the  feeling in the pit of my stomach. 

Like Eliza, I'm a runner.  I'm a woman.  I'm a mom.  And I fit my training around my other life commitments.  Sometimes that's an early morning run - I've gone out at 3am to get a run done well before the sun comes up. Why?  It was the only time I could fit it in while being a boss, mom, wife and friend.  And I was perfectly fine with it. I thought nothing of it beyond getting my butt up, caffeinated, and being able to see and be seen. 

What did I wear?  Shorts and a sports bra. I don't think about what I'm wearing when I run beyond functionality and comfort- is there more to think about? I don't wear a lot in the summer - know why?  It's f*cking hot out\.  When it's dark, I wear my Nox vest - so I can see and cars can see me.  I don't carry mace - I'd be just as likely to accidentally set it off on myself (I know, thats a me problem, but i own it.)  I run with music,  one bud popped in to hear my surroundings - but I run with music because I like it.  And when I see a man running or walking the opposite direction, I wave.  When I go around one, I say hello.

Am I an idiot?  I don't know.  Maybe I am, or I'm sticking my head in the sand. It seems like this is happening more and more lately to women, and I have zero solutions for it. Is it happening to men and we just don't hear about it?  I don't know.  I would think not - but again, I don't know.

 I think about being a female in sport - and all I want is an equal shake at it.  I don't want to have to think about what I'm wearing to go run.  I don't want to have to think about the time of day I'm going.  I leave a note - just like Greg does, with my ETA  - but I like to decide on my route as I go. I want to be able to have music at a level where I can hear my surroundings - because I like running to music. I run to clear my head - and to think through problems. It's my therapy.  I run to train for races- because that's my hobby and I love it.  I don't run to have to think about what to do if I'm approached and live in fear of trying to decide if it's a safe time to run or if my clothing is appropriate.  I run to....run.

I train mostly with men.  I've spoken to some of them about this and they are just as sick as I am over it - but they also admit they can't live in my shoes - they don't fully get it - and they are right.  What's going on in my brain - and many women runner's brains right now - is foreign to them.  I train with men for several reasons - most of my friends are guys.....and most triathletes - are male.  They make me laugh, they help me go faster, and they don't put up with any bullshit.  If I'm slower than them I either go faster to keep up if its a zooms workout or I do my own thing.  On a group workout, we all keep pace decided prior to the workout.  Nothing special, nothing extra, and no favors because I wear a sports bra.

 I have zero problems with the fact that it's a male dominated sport, and actually get frustrated when artificial incentives are given to women to participate.  I want an equal playing field.  That's all. No  special treatment because I'm a woman just - the same race and the same expectations.  I appreciate competing against women because we all compete against our own sex and age group, which seems fair.  But I want the same race, the same expectation, and the same settings.  I'm a triathlete - let's go!

As I sat last night with my daughter in our family room, I snuggled her tight.  I'm not sure how to explain to her what's going on in this world - especially this year.  I want to tell her she should live life fearlessly and without boundaries, but there are limitations being set down in the current environment that prohibit that.  And it's sad.  As I held her, my eyes roved to our "Racing Wall" that stores our plaques, medals and race accomplishments.  My gaze landed on an award I won for a race.  It said "1st overall female".  Cool . I bet the male winner's plaque said "1st overall male".  Which is accurate. The one next to it said...."1st Overall - ladies race".  I bet....the men's race did not denote "gentleman". I bet it said.... "Ist overall - men.  Or male."   And that's...a problem.  A microcosm, yes, but a problem.

How to address it?  I don't know.  When I was out riding yesterday, I saw about 20 people out on their bikes as well- and all of them were men except for one.  What did I think about this?  Two things:  It was awesome to see riders, and I waved, as they did, and we smiled our mutual understanding of people out getting in a great bike ride - and two - I wasn't afraid of them.  It never occurred to me that it was a problem that there weren't more women out riding - just as it never occurred to me that the men were a threat.

Its a lose lose situation right now - for both men and women.  This morning was the event to "finish Eliza's run" and I was... torn.  It was at 5:20am and the run distance - 8.2 miles. You could do it anywhere.  One of our local running clubs  sponsored an event to run 5 miles at 5:20am. That's awesome.  It's also downtown, and not conducive to my morning commitments.

 I wanted too head out my front door at 5:20am and go for a run to honor Eliza and "finish her run".  Then it occurred to me that it might be stupid to do so alone and in the dark. I wondered - should I ask a guy friend to run with me? Wait, what?? No! That....got me mad all over again.  Why should I have to do that?  What's the right answer?  I don't know.  I talked it over with my best friend, who has the most level head on his shoulders that I know and he reminded me that...this was something that could happen anytime.  Anywhere.  And that if I wanted to run at 5:20am to show my support, solidarity, and we run to run spirit....then I should.  I love that man to bits, and he was right.

So this morning I woke up, donned my Nox vest, and wore my pink sports bra and....ran for Eliza.  Alone. Just me...the stars, and a few other bikers  out doing there own thing.  I ran to... finish her run.  Because she is me.  She is every runner, out there, doing what they love, for the love of the sport.  And that's what I'm going to tell my daughter.  #finishelizasrun.

Roc tri 2022: Moments We Live For

I suppose when you race on two consecutive weekends, you'd best get your blog shit together, right?  Post Peasantman win high, I got right back into training, as my buddy Ryan stayed the next day and we did perfect race recovery dumb shit things like a 60 mile ride to Sodus with Gary.  Hey, life's short and he isn't around much, so this is one of those "balance" things where you take the moment to spend time with friends at the behest of perfect training.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

I will totally admit, I was sore post Peasantman, and knew that I raced it - rather than "funning it" - once I saw the woman behind me during the run, I dropped the hammer and had zero regrets, but was feeling the after effects.  The next week was supposed to be the kickoff of my final block for Barrelman, but life had other plans.  The lead up to the Roc tri was ridiculous - since I am on the board for the RAT's (Rochester Area Triathletes) and was on the race planning committee, Monday through Thursday was a combo of last minute meetings, packet stuffing, emails, and a zillion details to ensure race success.  When I signed up to race this one, I did it with the full knowledge that it would be a "fun race" and nowhere near anything to prep well to do zooms.  I think I got about 10 hours sleep the four days pre race, and Friday, the day before the actual event, was a 9 hour marathon of moving crap from our President's garage, lifting boxes, manning packet pickup, explaining race day logistics to a million (okay, a few hundred) nervous triathletes, lifeguarding the kids splash and dash event (which was awesome and hilarious) and in general, running around like a chicken with my head cut off.  I ate four fig bars, a donut, and two grilled cheeses for my pre race lunch/dinner - what could possibly go wrong?

Pre Race

Honestly, I had no idea what to expect at this race.  I signed up for the Sprint event, which was a .5 mile swim, 12 mile bike and 5k run - I got a lot of shit for not doing the Olympic, which I would always prefer, but with the amount of race prep I needed to do for this event because of my RAT's duties, I knew the shorter distance was wiser.  I was up by 3am race morning, and felt like absolute crap from the day before- I housed some ibuprofen, a bagel, and was out the door by 430 to get to transition, throw

my gear down and help with set up.  (It was incredibly odd to go to this one alone, as Greg was racing too, but it made sense to go separately, as I was helping with set up).  The cool thing about this race is, its whole 20 minute drive - score!  Once I parked, I grabbed my bike from the car, went to transition and - was the FIRST bike in!  Yeah baby!  (Its the little things, kids).  While it was still dark out, I could hear the lake and it sounded...angry.  It was decently windy and you could hear the waves and  I thought - shit.  This isn't good.  But maybe it'll calm down. 

The next hour was a total whirlwind of set up, timing mat planning, a zillion other small details and then the racers arrived!  I was extremely serious about my pre race prep did absolutely nothing to prepare for my own race and spent the time helping body mark, explain the layout/race details, rack bikes incorrectly place, and made a zillion new friends (I think people are seriously doubting my introvert status).  I caught up with old friends and in general, treated this race like the party it was.  Oh, we have to swim bike run?  Whoops, I forgot that part!  And, as fate would have it, the RD called the swim ( a wise choice, as the waves would have freaked out those not as comfortable with Open Water swim, and we had lots of newer triathletes) - we were headed for a run bike run format. (1.5 mile run, 12 mile bike, 3.1 mile run). This actually favors me, as I'm a much stronger runner, but I was a little bummed about no swim because I do enjoy the water even if I'm not fast!

The Olympic started a half hour before the sprint, and while a wise person would have taken in nutrition and spent some time getting ready to race, I was still running around like a dope, hanging with friends, cheering on the Olympic athletes, and paying zero attention to my own race (This is likely a "what not to do" post and I entirely own this!)  With five minutes to go, I downed a gel, grabbed my race belt, and got in line with Matt Kellman and Brian Emelson for the time trial start - Matt was eyeing an easy first leg of about 7:15-7:30 pace to me, which sounded perfect.  Let's do this!).

Run #1: 9:42 - 6:43 pace

Yeah, thanks Matt.  I took off and tucked behind Matt and Brian, per the plan. With my first step I hit a divot in the grass weirdly and felt a shooting pain up my left hip - this was not good, but with the adrenaline going, I quickly forgot about it. I stayed behind the boys - totally forgetting that  these rockstars are fast as shit and that I was probably being stupid (do we sense a theme here?)  

As we hit the turnaround, I saw no women behind me but since it was a time trial start, I knew I could potentially have a four minute head start on any potential competitors (160 racers, two at a time every 3 seconds).  Not that I had serious designs to do anything special, but I'll admit the last two wins at local triathlons had me gunning to go FAST!  Which....I was.  The first mile clocked in at 6:44 and I muttered under my breath, WTF Matt Kellman (Because clearly, this was all his fault).  ut I felt good - this felt like tempo pace!  I decided at that point to just listen to my body and go with it, and I zoomed into T! with a run time of 9:42, for a 6:43 pace, which is my 5k pace - way to take that run conservatively, Rae!

Bike: 35:02 - 20.5 mph

The bike course for the ROC is a two looper for the sprint, and a four looper for the Olympic - for 2022, we changed up the course to make a lollipop rather than the old u turn, which got rave reviews for (yass!)  It's not a flat course, but most of the rollers you can carry speed for - the course gets a little congested with 350 racers on it once the sprinters join the fun, but thankfully the road is closed to traffic, so aside from the whole stay on the right and pass with room, its a pretty fast course.  I hopped on my bike with little fanfare and was off!  The bike course was well manned with RATs volunteers and I felt the love from the cheer squad as I settled into a decent pace - I had to leap frog a few Olympic racers but the first loop wasn't too bad - I got to see Greg at the runaround as he was heading out, as well as Ryan, who started way back - and Scott, who was totally dominating the Olympic Course.  Even thouh I'm not a fan of looped courses in general, it was a lot of fun to see some of my favorites out there racing.  About 3 miles in, some idiot dude close passed me without calling it out, and I looked up and it was my buddy Sean, who was doing the Oly.  I caught up to him and gave him shit in a good natured way, and we spent the next ten miles playing leap frog.  The first loop was pretty uneventful and I hit it at 17:00 on the nose, for 20.6 mph - the second loop was a little bit slower due to the amount of racers, but nothing major - I had to slow at one turn for a cyclist towing an athlete, which I would happily do all day- that's badass- and on the last climb to zoo rd, had to do a little maneuvering while shit talking to Matt about his climbing (why do these guys keep me around, I'm a total bitch - and he ribbed me for it post race, as he should have!)  Ryan passed me about halfway through loop #2 and yelled out "ARROW", which is totally an ongoing joke, and I yelled back "PINEAPPLE!" and started laughing.

I headed into the final descent and dismounted with finesse without making a total ass of myself , heading into T2 with my  buddy Joel, who was heckling spectating, yelling out something either resembling encouragement or disparagement - I'll never know, but either way, it lit a fire under me to get my butt out on the final run!

Run #2: 22:07 - 7:10 pace

As far as I knew, no woman passed me on the bike or run #1, which didn't mean much, as I was toward the front of the TT start - but as I headed out to run #2 I knew I was flat out racing and wanted to give it everything I had!  I heard someone yell out "GO GLASER!" and "You're in 3rd!" which confused the hell out of me - were there women in front of me?  Was I in third overall?  That couldn't be, as I knew Brian, Matt and Ryan were all ahead.  Oh I was confused.  But it was time to run!!  I hit mile 1 in 7:17, and then started to climb to the turnaround.  I saw Scott coming back in from his Oly run, fast as hell, yet somehow making it look easy (this guy is not human, but he's fun to watch and try to pretend I can do half the shit he does), and then started to count sprinters - I saw seven men before I hit the turnaround, no ladies.  Hit the turnaround in 11:44, and clocked mile 2 in 7:44, which was slower, but a decent amount of climbing.  I saw the first woman two minutes back, and did the math in the least beneficial way possible - I had to put two minutes on her if she started last - could I do it??  The final mile was honestly a blur - I have never felt like such a damned Rockstar, with everyone cheering me on.  I looked over at the lake - hurt on my face, but also smiling in the inside, remembering that THIS is why I do this shit.  A few weeks back, Greg sent me a song for my run playlist called "Moments we Live for" and I felt it playing in my head- 

These are the moments, the moments we live for
Once in a lifetime, Everything we wanted more
This is the start of a new day, a good life
These are the moments we live for

I felt some tingles.  Whether it was the 7:00/mile I was holding on tired legs, the cheering, or the sheer happiness of doing what I loved with 300 of my best friends, I didn't know - and I didn't care.  I hit the finish line, the biggest smile on my face - for a total time of 1:09 and change.  

Post Race

Turns out, the second week of me hitting the gas for the latter half of the run didn't matter much - I won the race by four minutes, which is absolutely bananas to me.  I cheered in all of my favorite sprinters and Olympic racers, and we all plopped down on the grass to hang out and wait for the awards ceremony.  The overall winners awards were sweet - the women got a plaque, flowers, and a free race entry to next year - score! 

Overall, it was a giant success of a race - and even though I am ridiculously exhausted with all the work that went into its execution, cannot believe I pulled a win out of my butt - the third Tri win of the season ....in which I had my first overall tri win, ever.  What the heck can I do to top this??I'm not sure - Barrelman 70.3 is up next, and while I really have shifted my focus to fall running and am doing Barrelman - uh - for fun - I don't think anyone believes me anymore when I say that.

Either way, it's time to take this show to Canada and see what we can do with another 70.3 - stay tuned!!

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!)

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!