Fear Itself (Thanks FDR)

So, here we are.  Five weeks out from Ironman.  Lotta season left.  But for all intents and purposes, a "What the hell comes next" mentality.

Well let me just tell you what comes next.

It's sort of crazy.  Back in 2010 and 2011, Ironman #1 and #2 definitely left me in a funk.  I finished, met my goals for both (Sub 14 and Sub 13 finishes, respectively), and walked away feeling great about it, but with a "what now" feeling.

I fixed it in 2010 by doing another Ironman.

I fixed it in 2011 by family planning.

Before anyone gets crazy with the cheez whiz, both those are off the table, especially the latter!

This time around, I have had no post Ironman funk.  Of course, there is little doubt in my mind that I came nowhere near close to executing the race based on my fitness, so there is the general let down post race, but moreso a let down of myself.  While I am proud to have finished relatively well in the elements, I know in my heart that I let the beast get to me both in Lake Placid and in 2018 as a whole, and that bums me out.

A two wheeled beast.  In other words, my damn bike.

I've been a triathlete for 13 years.  For those of you that don't know my history, I got hit by a car back in 2008 while riding and separated my shoulder and became immensely afraid of road riding.

For those of you that don't know me as a person, I am one of the most uncoordinated people on earth to begin with.  Which means even in the best situation, I fall on my ass clipping in and out of my bike, and can't steer it while eating a power bar to save my soul.  I don't have aero nutrition because it looks cool, it's because I struggle to maneuver bottle cages.  I don't ride and grab food aid at stations.  I stop.  And here's the biggie....I've never ridden in aero.  Ever.

Did I stutter?  Nope.  For years, I've been a mid pack swimmer, a bottom third rider, and a rescuer of races with a top 25% of field run.

But I learned a hard lesson this year.  You can't outrun a bad bike.  You just can't.

So as my run has gotten better and better, I run more because I like it.  I bike less because...I don't.  But when the bike is over half the race, you set yourself up for failure.

Greg and I don't compete.  Really.  We use each other as rabbits, friendly ribbing, but that's about it.  For years, we have decided he races better in short course, and I do better in long course.  And for years, his slightly faster bike and swim gave him the edge short course, and my run beat him out in long course.

That changed this year.  I watched him in both races swim the same as me (less than a minute difference) and then just haul out guns blazing on a bike while I fell behind, and then I ran out of room to catch up on the run.  I know there was a contingent of Roc folks (love you guys) that watched me try to catch him on the marathon course at Placid.  I'm proud of gaining those 43 minutes.  But he still grabbed the overall faster time....because his bike split was 55 minutes faster.

Because I am afraid.  I am afraid of speed on the Keene descent.  I'm afraid of not holding the brakes in aero.  And I sat myself into a huge nutritional hole because I am afraid to eat a clif bar on the fly.

Since I didn't know what to do with this, after Placid, I sat my bike in a corner.  I have ridden her once (on the trainer, of course).  There is a choice to make.  Greg signed up for a sprint tri last weekend, and he waxed it.  He set a new personal best, and came in 11th overall.  He is on fire.  I am so proud of him.  But at the same time, I am more and more bummed about my relationship with my bike.  It's the first tri I haven't done since 2005 with him where I wasn't pregnant.  I made the active choice to sit it out because I hate my bike.

One of our friends at the tri, after I spilled some of my guts, looked at me and logically said "Well, why don't you just do Aquathon (Swim Run) or run?"  And she's probably right.  But it doesn't feel right.  It feels like quitting.  And at the bottom of it, I DO like riding, and the sport of triathlon - it's better whole body training, the athletes are way more fun, and it's what Greg and I DO.  But I've let my weakness grow and haven't addressed it the way I should to the point of where it's do or die time.

I know.  Who does 3 Ironmans with a fear of the bike?  Me, I guess.  I never said I was reasonable.

So...what's next?  Well, I need to step away.  I need to miss it.  To miss those hours training.  To have the desire to put on a helmet and brave the roads.  To go to a parking lot with my 5 year old son and learn how to ride bikes again.  To just do it.

But now...I don't.  So I'm doing what I love.  I signed up for a half marathon this weekend, because dammit, I love running.  And it's at my Alma Mater (Geneseo).  And it's good prep for my fall marathon.  I'm running 6 days a week and damn it feels good.

Is it enough?  I don't know.  But I do know I need redemption.  This season has been a giant failure save for a new 10k PR at an Olympic Tri (WHO DOES THAT?).  It's time to end the season with a bang and think about what 2019 brings.

Never boring around here, for sure...right??

Wind Beneath my Wings: Lake Placid Race Report, the finale!!

Well, I must confess.  If you stayed with me through parts one and two....I apologize for the lame theme and the drama of a 3 part report but....we all knew I really wanted to talk about the run, so of course, that gets its own piece!

As I ran into T2, I had the biggest smile on my face - after the wild ride on the bike, I was finally onto Terra firma and about to rock this race!  I knew that my A goal and B goal were out the window at this point, but I was hoping to finish strong around 14 hours.  Grabbing my run bag, I had thrown off my bike shoes to run faster and got my feet completely covered in sand on my way to the tent - eff.  The nice volunteer grabbed water to hose my feet down....and spilled it on my compression socks.  OMG.  I knew i could not run this thing with no socks, so I bummed a pair of 50 cent cotton socks and prayed for the best (Yes, Barb, I know).  I opted not to change, but had to pee, so I grabbed my race belt, visor and foodstuffs and jetted out - for a nice five minute transition, 3 minutes faster than in 2010!  Hey, Ill take what I can get.

Out for mile one with the best cheerleader on the course....who of course got a smooch!!  I can't even explain to you how excited I was to see Rob - while I do Ironman for my own interest, watching my kids see their parents out there doing hard things and getting it done is an example that I hope to set for many years to come.  What else is a mom to do than sweep down and give her kiddo a giant hug and smooch?!?  (I did realize post this that was a HUGE mistake...lol).

After my rob 'mooches, I set off at a brisk trot down the hill and out of town, the biggest smile on my face.  Too big.  Mile one: 7:53.  OMG.  Slow down Rae!!  I was hoping for a 2:15 first half, so I slooooowed it down to a 9:30-10 minute mile rather quickly.  The LP marathon is awesome because its basically an out and back twice, so you see friends on the course.  I saw some of my speedier friends on their lap back - most looked beat to hell after that bike, which I figured under my smile, I did too.  I high fived the sexy speedo guys (the course support is phenomenal) and set out looking for Greg, who, other than hearing he was "quite a distance ahead", I had no intel on. (I figured as much, given my lousy bike split, but hey, I have to admit, I was just as happy to not have died so there's that.)  I finally saw my buddy at mile 3, when he was at mile 8, and gave him a big high five!  He yelled out, come catch me! Which, lets be real, he was about 50 minutes ahead of me....and I had 23 miles to work with.  Do the math, people.  (I later found out he started the run with a 55 minute head start on me..holy cats).  I pretty much knew then that I would not catch him, but I'm one to give it the ole college try, so off I went.

Run loop one consisted of running the flats and downhills and walking the hills, averaging about a ten minute mile.  I saw all my pals, smiled a ton, and while my legs felt great, my lungs were a hot mess and I could not take a deep breath.  I felt really nauseous, which was 100% due to my shitty nutrition on the bike, so I suck with gels, coke and chomps, which are really freaking hard to open (I had to ask someone every time to help - what am I, 5?).  I finished run loop 1 in 2:13, which I was 100% thrilled with.

As I headed out for loop 2, I saw my crew again - John, Liz, Noah, Karen, Tom and of course, Super Rob!  who held up some inspo (Thanks kid, and thanks Karen!!) and ran with me for about a minute.  John gave me the Greg update and told me I was running about 3 minutes per mile faster than him, which gave me hope that I might catch him (math was not my strong suit now, but the idea of crossing the finish line together was what I wanted the most!!)

Running out of town I began to look for a buddy - I usually find a man in his 50s who paces with me and makes me laugh, and establish a 2 hour father daughter relationship with.  Not this time.  I had a really strong run/walk going, and the people I paired up with had a different strategy in mind.  Ahh well.  This time out I got to see the people on the loop behind me, who either looked as thrilled as I was or dead on their feet.  I got asked several times if this was my first Ironman, people explaining that "I looked too happy".  Was I hurting?  Oh heck yes.  I kept waiting to upchuck.  But at this point I KNEW I would be an Ironman, with 8, 7, 6 miles to go...and OMG I was so happy.  I saw Greg again at my mile 17.5 and his mile 19.5...again, he told me, come get me!  I sadly told him I was running out of road....even if I ran my best, I couldn't make up 20 minutes in 8 miles.

The run back into town was surreal.  I basked in Lake Placid - the ski jumps, the mountains, the sights....everything.  Mile 24, I heard the finish line cries and headed out for my final two out and back.  Saw Greg heading in and we hugged each other tight and I told him how very proud I was of him. As I made the final turn, I began to run slightly faster toward the final mile.  I began to shiver and well up....the months of hard work, the time, the training, the doubt earlier in this day....the look on my sons face....my husbands embrace....it all caught up to me.  This was it.   I looked behind me....all clear.  There was one group in front of me I passed as I neared the oval, and then clear sailing for the finish.  I raised my arms in Rocky victory, tears coming down my face, and ran across the finish line to "Rae Glaser, you ARE an Ironman!"  (Which, by the way, was just as cool as the first two times!!) and there was Greg.  With my medal.  He placed it around my neck and we just looked at each other in awe.  WE DID IT.

Post race, we caught up with Rob and the gang, and John was a godsend and sherpaed our bikes out for us so we could breathe.  Since I know you are all on tenterhooks, I finished in 14:15:xx, about an hour slower than I wanted, but still a strong finish.  Greg ended up finishing in 14:07:xx, which means that I made up 48 minutes on the run, but still could not out run his strong bike (7:07 vs 8:02).  I later found out there was quite a following back home on our progress as people waited for me to catch him - sorry guys, I ran out of road :-P)

All things considered, I am super amped about our race.  Neither one of us hit our A goal, but the weather sucked, and to be honest, we did not train nearly as much as 2010 and 2011 (I wonder why?)  Be that as it was, we finished smack in the middle of the pack, and we later found out almost no one had the race they wanted....the bike either killed them (me)....or the bike destroyed them for the run (Greg).

Be that as it may, for two people with two little guys, two demanding jobs, and a life, I'm pretty darn proud of us for what we did - and celebrating Greg's 40th couldn't have been any better.

Post Ironman?  Well, I won't lie.  That initial let down of post race....was not there this time.  I honestly am so glad to be off a massive training schedule that I shook out for two weeks and did whatever the hell I wanted - though I am glad to say I started running a few days post race!  Now?  Well, I signed up for the Green Mountain Vermont marathon on October 14th to cross off state #10.  What, did you expect different? :)

Thanks for following my ridiculously long race report and as always, for reading TFB!

When the Wild Wind Blows - Lake Placid Part 2 - Swim and Bike

Are we sensing a theme here?  Good.  No worries, I won't take you through every wind song in the planet - I would be nuts to write that much of a multi part report :)  Where were we....ahh, yes.  Wind.

The swim - As the cannon fired to signal the Age grouper start, we moved up the beach, going off in waves of about 10.  I had seeded myself with the 1:20 swimmers, and expected just about that.  The start was rather lackadaisical....in 2010, the cannon went off and 3000 swimmers started jousting for water position.  Five minutes into this race, I was still beach bound.  I started shivering (it was cold!) and a really nice fellow racer rubbed my arms and talked down my nerves....what a sweetheart.  Ten minutes later, we were released into the lake, I hit my start button, and off we went!

The first half of the swim was rather uneventful, a nice change from the scrum of 2010 (Mirror lake is TINY and is usually a boxing match the first loop).  I was really anti this wave start going into the race, but after 5 minutes I found the white cable that denoted the swim loop (that I never found in 2010!) and was good to go.  My watch went off every 500m or 10 minutes, which for my pace....I couldn't tell which was which.  Fail.  Ahhh well.  I exited loop one in 37 minutes, which was about right, as I knew the second loop would be slower.  A few bumps, nothing major, and I felt great!  Second loop oddly had more contact, I had a mild hyperventilating moment halfway through when some guy clocked me in the head and pushed me under, but I swam to the side a bit, took a deep breath and reminded myself that no one has a breakdown 3000m into a swim.  Exited loop 2 in 38 minutes for a total swim of 1:15, a full 5 minutes faster than I expected - sweet!!

The run to T! in this race is super long, but really well supported and we felt like rock stars.  I slammed a gel as it takes me awhile to get into it on the bike, and headed to grab my bike bag.  Suited up with little fanfare with the help of an awesome vollie who offered anything I needed (Except a bike motor....damn) and headed into the bike racks to grab my steed!  Off to the mount line and into the 112 mile ride!!

The Bike - I wish I could just skip this whole piece, but hey, it wouldn't be authentic then, would it.  The bike, like each discipline, is a two looper - a gradual climb and some rollers for 10 miles, a sick fast 6 mile descent, about 10 miles of flat, 15 more miles of rollers, and 15 miles uphill.  Times two.  Ironman added an extra little piece with a decent uphill to make 112 miles, which we knew would add some time, but what can you do about it.

MMM....gatoroade

As we wound into the first climb out of  town, the rain started coming down and I was praying that the radar loop was right and that the showers would dissipate by 10am.  The winds started howling at about mile 2....not nice tailwinds.  Or annoying headwinds.  Shitty crosswinds that clocked up to 40 mph (as we found out later) that blew this little 130 pound rider sideways.  Handlebar clutching OMFG riding.  And I'm not a great biker to begin with.  To add insult to injury, my bike computer, which was working wonderfully when I checked it at 6:15 pre race, had decided to malfunction.  I pulled over and messed around with it to no avail - which means that aside from my garmin beeping every 10 minutes and the mile markers every 10 miles - I was riding blindly.  Not the thing one wants to do for 112 miles.  Deep breaths.  Something always goes wrong on race day, you can handle this.  At mile 10, a rider passed me chanting "Wind is our friend" over and over again.  Yeah.  Nice try buddy.  We passed the fear inducing "low gear truck" road sign, and I prayed the descent wouldn't be too terror inducing (I've hit 55 on this part before - and that's nothing compared to the riders whizzing down in aero!).  The first piece wasn't horrible, and then we hit the valley by cascade lakes, where the wind nearly blew us into the guard rail.  I was chanting Hail Mary's, straddling the white line, burning all my emotional matches, and praying not to die.  The second piece of the descent was much better, as the wind subsided, and I blew a huge sigh of relief as I hot the bottom and into Keene.  The second part of the course is my fave - huge shoulders and almost no hills.  Except...it started to hail.  Yeah, you read that right.  I hit mile 20 and was chattering so hard I could barely steer my bike.  I'm not gonna lie, I almost pulled over at the aid station at mile 25 and handed in my chip.  I kept repeating my reasons for being there over and over in my head, and soldiered on.

Miles 25-40 were uneventful except I realized at mile 40....I hadn't eaten anything.  OMG.  Huge mistake.  I knew I couldn't ride and eat at the same time, as I was so cold, so I pulled over, peed, grabbed shot blox, refilled Gatorade, and headed out.  The winds thankfully slowed down for the climb back into town and I hit the first loop in 3:53.  WHAT THE EFF.  I knew 2 things - I would never make 7:30, and that mentally, I was fried.  Thankfully I was ok physically, so I headed out for loop two.

Loop two started much the same as loop one, but thankfullyl the rains had gone away at this point.  I was starting to get into a rhythm when I heard "What the hell" and the dude about 10 feet in front of me launched a water bottle out of his rear mount.  This took out the chick that was behind him - I veered out of the way but was totally not quick enough and crashed full force onto the pavement.

OMG.

Pre Race motivation - YOU GOT THIS

I took stock of the situation - road rash, elbow scrapes, and minor face damage to the bike.  I pulled over to the side and noticed the chain got swung into the inside of my big chain ring, and spent 5 minutes wrestling it out.  The athletes passing me all asked we were OK -myself, another dude who was also checking his bike, and the other chick who went down, who ended up wheeling her bike up further.  (Water bottle launcher - unscathed and still on the course. Ugh.)  The dude took off quickly and the other girl debated pulling out - she was alright but totally shaken (not sure what happened to her, I hope she made it) - which I totally got.  I finally was convinced my bike was OK, and set to mount it - then promptly almost tipped over as my cleat wouldn't work.  WTF.  I sat there for a few minutes, literally crying on the course.  I knew this was nerves, but with the descent right ahead, I needed to get my head on straight.  I remembered my kids - one at home, looking up to Mommy as an athlete.  I remembered my five year old, on his way up to cheer Mommy and Daddy on.  I thought of my husband - somewhere ahead on this course, celebrating his 40 years with this wild race with me.  And I thought of myself - I AM NOT A QUITTER.  I am a FIGHTER.  I said loudly - RAE.  You can DO THIS.  And I mounted my bike with determination, and was off.

Still.  More matches.  The second descent was just as windy, just as scary, but at the bottom, I knew I had beat the worst part of the course.  The rest of loop two was pretty uneventful - I stopped again at mile 95 for peeing and food, and was helped back on my back by an awesome vollie - and the last 12, albeit slow, were also uneventful - woith the exception of randomly hearing "The Final Countdown" on someones speakers along the course, which is hilarious, as that was a totally random song in 2010 pre race and still a joke a la "Arrested Development' between Greg and I.

  Hitting Papa bear at mile 109, I was just SO DAMN happy that the end of the bike was near, and I started to grin.  I dismounted loop two in 4:09, for a total bike split of 8:02 - about 45 minutes slower than I wanted, and nowhere near what I know I am capable of.  I almost threw my bike at a volunteer and offered to sell it to her for what I felt was a very reasonable $5.  She laughed and as I ran into T2....I saw my crew!!!  John, Liz, Karen, Noah, Tom and ROB!! I leaned in for the biggest hug and he yelled "Mommy!  You're gonna be an Ironman!!!" And with that....how could I do anything but smile my little heart out and go get ready to run this marathon



As I grabbed my run gear......(Conclusion (I swear!) coming tomorrow.....)