Victoria Half Iron – Race Report

Grab a snack, sit back and get relaxed... this is a long one!

Friday morning I woke up about 2 hours before my alarm with a scarily familiar feeling – it seemed I had somehow swallowed a weed whacker in my sleep. I forced myself back to sleep, telling myself that I was just imagining it and all would be fine when I finally really woke up.

Nope.

Friday my throat hurt like hell. All.Day.
Why? Why-oh-why did my throat hurt like this just two short days before race day?

Thankfully, I had some pleasant Friday happenings to help distract me from this horrible throat business… an early departure from work (how can you not love it when the office closes early on a sunny Friday afternoon?) and a delicious carb-filled lunch with Shane at Pagliacci’s. Bliss.

[Side Note: One thing I quite enjoy about long course racing – the carbo-load].

By Friday night my body was calling for sleep, so after a nice Epsom salts bath I crawled under the covers about 9pm (party animal right here) and slept soundly until about 9am Saturday morning. When I woke up (while groggy from my 12 hours of slumber) my throat was miraculously feeling a lot better.

Sleep and water = two things I’m pretty sure will cure most ailments.

Race-Day-Eve involved the usual pre-race shenanigans….
An easy run to get things firing. A little biking to make sure everything is in working order. A couple practice mounts and dismounts. Bike Check. Package Pickup. Pre-race meeting. Hanging out with a newly Nike-sponsored athlete and soon-to-be Olympian.

Ok, so that last one isn’t really typical of race-day-eve, but it was kinda fun to get to visit with Cam (and my Aunt and Uncle too of course) before he heads to the Olympic Trials and then off to London. Checking out the NCAA National Championship trophies was pretty cool too.

This photo certainly did not take my Grandma and two Aunts almost 10mins to take.
It was not awkward at all, haha.

Dinner and a somewhat early bedtime rounded out the day and before we knew it, the alarm was sounding and it was time. Time for my first Half IM in two years and time for Shane’s first one EVER!

[Spoiler Alert: He killed it... and while I am slightly jealous of his finishing time, I am also extremly proud of him].

We picked up Kirsten and arrived at the race site about an hour before the race start. More usual pre-race activities followed: set up, walk transition a few times, porta-potty stop, wetsuits on, gulp back a gel and head to the water’s edge.

For some reason, the anxiety hit me like a tonne of bricks. I actually felt more anxious than I think I did before IMC 2010. I was shaking and I couldn’t seem to make it stop… and I still can’t tell you why. It was an anomaly.

When the gun finally went off and the race began, I think I actually felt a bit of relief (granted, that moment of relief was temporary).

The wind was pretty fierce on Sunday morning and it was definitely doing a good job of whipping the lake into a frenzy of chop.

I struggled at first to find my place in the pack. I got swam over a few times and did a little swimming over of others as well. I got hit with one large wave (okay, so it probably wasn’t that large, but it felt it) and choked on a bit of water. I won’t say I panicked, but I definitely stopped and popped my head out of the lake pretty darn quick. I’ve never stopped like that in a race before and it surprised me.

Thankfully (and this is something I was actually quite proud of myself for) I reminded myself I’m a strong swimmer and there was no reason to be freaking out. I don’t have panic attacks in open water. I just don’t (and trust me, I know I am very very fortunate that this is the case). So, I put my face back in the water, relaxed my mind and my stroke and forged on ahead.

I swam quite wide and at times thought I was the only one in the lake (there was definitely no drafting happening from me), but was able to find a nice rhythm and steadily made me way to shore, coming out of the water about 3’ faster than my previous best Half IM swim.

When I saw the clock, I was pretty amped.

I saw my Mom and think I uttered something along the lines of “that was a fricken hard swim” before making my way into transition.

T1 was a blur. Helmet on. Bike un-racked. Run. Run. Run. Saw Dad cheering. A decent [read: not great, but better than Shawnigan] mount and I was on my way.

I think I settled into an okay pace on the bike fairly quickly. I was trying to find that nice balance of fast [for me] but sustainable, all the while, just waiting for Shane to blow past me. About 15-20km in, he finally did (never to be seen again).

As the ride continued, I tried to maintain my focus and keep a positive mindset.

I also realized I broke the cardinal rule of “never try anything new on race day” – I wore my tri shorts for the first time on a bike ride of this distance. I’d done a long run in them, and I’d done a few short bikes, but I never tested them out on anything over about 20-25km.

Anyway, I’m not sure if that was the cause or if it was something else completely, but about 35-40km into the bike I felt like something in my groin and adductor was pinched. This pinching radiated up into my lower abdomen and made my stomach cramp up a bit. The main result of this was that I really just did not feel like eating anything, so went about an hour of just subsisting on water and Gatorade before reminding myself that one of my goals was to “nail my nutrition” and I needed to get back on the gel train.

So I did. My stomach didn’t necessarily like me for it, but I didn’t puke or poop myself, so I think that is a win. (I did however get passed by a guy wearing a "Team Puke" jersey, which made me laugh).

I jockeyed back and forth with another girl for a large part of the 2nd lap. I’d pass her on every uphill, she’d kill me on every down and flat. It helped keep the focus.

I think around the 70km mark I swore I was done with long course racing for good (oh, what, I’m doing Ironman this year? Crap.) before coming back around mentally and refocusing for the final push into T2.

My dismount was okay (I think) and much like T1, T2 went by in a bit of a blur. I remember I grumbled something to my lovely spectators (Mom, Dad & Ash) about how "windy" grumble, grumble, “there was nothing easy about that bike,” stuffed some Sharkies in my pocket, clipped my race belt on, slid on the ol’ socks and shoes, and was on my way.

My calves felt pretty crampy for the first 1-2km of the run, but I knew they would loosen up, and they did. Once the cramping subsided, my right foot proceeded to go numb and tingly and I felt like I was running on a stump leg for the next 6 or 7km before a few pins and needles reawakened my dead appendage.

The first 10k lap actually felt pretty good (aside from the whole numb leg thing) and went by quite quickly. [I did however really wish I got to turn right into the finishers chute as I passed it, rather than head out for lap 2].

The second part of the run was more of a struggle and unfortunately my pace began to slow a little.

One bright shiny moment however was getting some unexpected cheerleading from my friend Erin who had just popped down to the trail before her riding lesson. She of course was too kind and told me how great I looked, while I’m pretty sure I just demanded “run with me” and forced her to run alongside me in her jeans and non-running Pumas. It was a great little pick me up.

Other than that, it was pretty much “one foot in front of the other” for the rest of the 20km. The whole time I found myself hoping I could hold off Kirsten and that she wouldn’t pass me in the final 500m or outsprint me across the finish line. Ahhh, the things that keep you going eh?

I finally crossed the line in 5:50:40.

I had hoped to be quicker, but (when do I not wish for that), it was my fastest time at this distance (by about 7mins) on a very windy and challenging day, and so I definitely am not disappointed with the result. I felt like I stayed positive throughout and other than a minor nutrition slip up on the bike, I followed my feed plan pretty well. 

As soon as I stopped, two things happened: 1) I'm pretty sure I told everyone within earshot that I prefer short course racing (more on this another time), and 2) my ankle joint proceeded to completely seize up and cause me a horrendous amount of pain in the process. However, one bonus to this horrific ankle pain was that I barely noticed my tired legs. Yay!

So, where do I go from here?
Well, priority #1a is to get this damn ankle sorted out and fixed once and for all. Priority #1b is to get a good sleep tonight and pound some vitamin C, as my throat is starting to feel a little scratchy again today... and then?

Then it is onward to Ironman.

Penticton or Bust!