Recently I’ve been trying to be a bit more proactive about my own health and decided it was time to review my ongoing anticoagulation. The idea of being on Warfarin for the rest of my life kind of scares me (even though I’m repeatedly told by the doctors that there are no side effects). It just seems unlikely to me that being on any sort of medication for years and years (I plan to live to a nice ripe old age) wouldn’t produce any side effects. That said, I don’t want to clot again and I’ve got some factors working against me in that department, so it really is a crap shoot.
A few weeks ago, I met with Dr. Smith at the DVT clinic to review my case and talk about my risk factors. It was very interesting and he gave me some studies to read and we discussed different statistics about who is more likely to clot, etc. etc.
Another interesting thing was, for the first time in two years, he examined my legs, and just by looking at them, pointed to my left calf (the one that is always giving me grief) and said “you’ve had a DVT in that leg. No question.” and then he pointed out all the reasons he could tell this just by looking at it. It was kind of creepy and yet, just confirmed something I’ve known in my heart for a long time.
Anyway, I think in the back of my mind I just want someone to say “yes, you 100% need to be on anticoagulants or you will die!” – or – “no, you don’t need them anymore – you will never clot again, I guarantee it!” Of course, neither of these things is going to happen. Either way, anticoagulated or not, there are risks – and it is on me to weigh these risks and decide which ones I’m more willing to take.
My risk of a spontaneous bleed if I stay on the anticoagulants is relatively low, so long as I keep my INR in the appropriate range. My risk of a major bleed if I say, crash my bike, is a little higher than that of the average person, but this is a risk I’ve been taking for the past two years. I suppose it just means I'll never be racing any crits and my chances of making le Tour are a little less, haha ;)
If I come off the meds, my risk of another clot is definitely there. I’ve tested positive for the genetic clotting disorder Factor V Leiden. However, many people live with Factor V mutations, never knowing it, and never having any clotting issues. I’ve stopped taking oral contraceptives, so have decreased my risk of clotting in that regard.
In all honesty, as much as I would hate to have another pulmonary embolism or DVT, I am not as scared of that as I am of a clot going to my brain. I did experience a minor stroke in February 2009 (one that was never properly diagnosed, but much the same as with my leg, I know it was a stroke) and the fear of something like that messing with my brain again is paralyzing. To lose control of your vision, your ability to process your own thoughts, to not know if the words that are coming out of your mouth are making sense – it’s (excuse my language) fucking terrifying.
And so, for now, I continue with my anticoagulants. No closer now than I was before my meeting with Dr. Smith to making a decision.
To Anticoagulate or Not To Anticoagulate?
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
Sooke Sprint – Race Report
So Sooke happened.
I think from this point forward, I will call it “the race that just kinda was.”
By that last sentence, you may guess that I'm feeling a little indifferent about the race. I would definitely not say it was a great race, but it wasn't really bad either. It just kind of happened. To the point where last night, having dinner, I didn't even feel like I had raced earlier in the day. It is a bit of a blur at this point.
So a quick recap before the details fade farther from my mind....
I actually felt like I got in a pretty good warm up (something that, admittedly, I don’t always do). It was still probably not quite long enough, but I actually felt "warmed up" which was nice.
As I met my parents on the edge of the lake to give them my backpack and get into my wetsuit I got really nervous and anxious (perhaps too much of a "hurry up and wait" feeling?) and couldn't seem to shake it.
The swim was a deep water start in two waves – men first, woman and relays second. You had to jump off a pontoon into the lake and tread water until the air horn blast. I was a bit nervous about the deep water start just because it was something new, but it really was rather uneventful. The whole swim was rather uneventful in fact. Also, while the deep water start was different, I actually found it was a lot less rough then some of the previous races I've been in, so that was nice.
Throughout the swim, I felt like I had a decent rhythm and definitely thought I was on track for a good time, however I forgot to start my watch, so really had no idea where I was at – time wise – the whole race (when I did finally look at my times after the race, my swim was actually a bit slow).
Transition was good. Calm, relaxed, but fairly speedy. This race had two transition areas, so you had to put your wetsuit and swim gear into a gear bag so it could be transported back to the finish line at the end of the day. It was a little weird, but nothing that really made any huge difference to my transition overall. As usual, I felt like transitions were one of the strongest parts of my day.
I had a good mount onto the bike and felt like I settled into a good cadence right off the bat. I was maintaining my pace fairly well and was tackling the hills (both up and down) well enough. This is an extremely hilly and tough bike course, so I didn’t want to kill myself on the first hill when I knew there would be plenty more to come. I was spinning well (or so I thought) when around 5-6k into the bike a group of about 4 or 5 girls just blew past me. I felt like I was standing still. That said, a couple of them looked like they were really struggling with the climbs, and since I felt like I was spinning them pretty well, I thought I would probably be able to reel them back in. Unfortunately, they were just too quick on the descents and I lost them. The climbs after the turn around were even uglier and harder than on the way out, but I didn't feel like I was moving too slowly. Overall, the bike wasn't great, but it wasn't horrible either. In the theme of the day, it just was.
T2 was good. I had a solid dismount, was in my runners quick enough and heading out on the run for the 5k out and back course. Most of the first half of the run was downhill, so I thought that would be good for me and that it might help to sort of get my legs moving and the blood flowing. Unfortunately that didn't really happen. I just kind of chugged along for the whole run, got a major side stitch about 2k in, but it was gone by about 3k... It was weird though, I just didn't feel motivated at all. I knew I could be going faster, but I had absolutely no desire to push.
There were two girls close to me - they had both entered T2 before me, and I had gone out before them - one quickly passed me, and then the other overtook me about the 2.5k mark and I just kind of let her go. After that, there were no other women around, and so I think by knowing that no one was really chasing me, I just kind of maintained my position. I had absolutely no fire. (I think I need to have Kirsten chasing me down on the run – she definitely lights a fire under my ass).
When I crossed the finish line I still had no idea how fast/slow I was, as the clock was showing the Half Iron time and, as I said earlier, I forgot to start my watch. I knew I had run slow, but had no idea it was sooo slow (story of my life really). In all seriousness, it may have been the slowest 5k I have run in about 3 years - yikes!
Anyway, my conclusions about Sooke... I was slightly disappointed in myself for not pushing to my limits, but at the same time, I still felt like it was an okay race, just not a "leave it all out there" race. My age group was tough (I finished 9/21 in my age group, but still managed to be 14th female overall).
So yeah, in short: good warm up, decent swim, good transitions, hard but okay bike, capped off with a hard (in terrain, but not effort), lacklustre run.
Kelowna is up next. I’m actually pretty excited for it and also hoping that I get a bit of my spark back before then.
Oh, and after reading my race report, this is the video Kelly sent me for inspiration :)
I think from this point forward, I will call it “the race that just kinda was.”
By that last sentence, you may guess that I'm feeling a little indifferent about the race. I would definitely not say it was a great race, but it wasn't really bad either. It just kind of happened. To the point where last night, having dinner, I didn't even feel like I had raced earlier in the day. It is a bit of a blur at this point.
So a quick recap before the details fade farther from my mind....
I actually felt like I got in a pretty good warm up (something that, admittedly, I don’t always do). It was still probably not quite long enough, but I actually felt "warmed up" which was nice.
As I met my parents on the edge of the lake to give them my backpack and get into my wetsuit I got really nervous and anxious (perhaps too much of a "hurry up and wait" feeling?) and couldn't seem to shake it.
The swim was a deep water start in two waves – men first, woman and relays second. You had to jump off a pontoon into the lake and tread water until the air horn blast. I was a bit nervous about the deep water start just because it was something new, but it really was rather uneventful. The whole swim was rather uneventful in fact. Also, while the deep water start was different, I actually found it was a lot less rough then some of the previous races I've been in, so that was nice.
Throughout the swim, I felt like I had a decent rhythm and definitely thought I was on track for a good time, however I forgot to start my watch, so really had no idea where I was at – time wise – the whole race (when I did finally look at my times after the race, my swim was actually a bit slow).
Transition was good. Calm, relaxed, but fairly speedy. This race had two transition areas, so you had to put your wetsuit and swim gear into a gear bag so it could be transported back to the finish line at the end of the day. It was a little weird, but nothing that really made any huge difference to my transition overall. As usual, I felt like transitions were one of the strongest parts of my day.
I had a good mount onto the bike and felt like I settled into a good cadence right off the bat. I was maintaining my pace fairly well and was tackling the hills (both up and down) well enough. This is an extremely hilly and tough bike course, so I didn’t want to kill myself on the first hill when I knew there would be plenty more to come. I was spinning well (or so I thought) when around 5-6k into the bike a group of about 4 or 5 girls just blew past me. I felt like I was standing still. That said, a couple of them looked like they were really struggling with the climbs, and since I felt like I was spinning them pretty well, I thought I would probably be able to reel them back in. Unfortunately, they were just too quick on the descents and I lost them. The climbs after the turn around were even uglier and harder than on the way out, but I didn't feel like I was moving too slowly. Overall, the bike wasn't great, but it wasn't horrible either. In the theme of the day, it just was.
T2 was good. I had a solid dismount, was in my runners quick enough and heading out on the run for the 5k out and back course. Most of the first half of the run was downhill, so I thought that would be good for me and that it might help to sort of get my legs moving and the blood flowing. Unfortunately that didn't really happen. I just kind of chugged along for the whole run, got a major side stitch about 2k in, but it was gone by about 3k... It was weird though, I just didn't feel motivated at all. I knew I could be going faster, but I had absolutely no desire to push.
There were two girls close to me - they had both entered T2 before me, and I had gone out before them - one quickly passed me, and then the other overtook me about the 2.5k mark and I just kind of let her go. After that, there were no other women around, and so I think by knowing that no one was really chasing me, I just kind of maintained my position. I had absolutely no fire. (I think I need to have Kirsten chasing me down on the run – she definitely lights a fire under my ass).
When I crossed the finish line I still had no idea how fast/slow I was, as the clock was showing the Half Iron time and, as I said earlier, I forgot to start my watch. I knew I had run slow, but had no idea it was sooo slow (story of my life really). In all seriousness, it may have been the slowest 5k I have run in about 3 years - yikes!
Anyway, my conclusions about Sooke... I was slightly disappointed in myself for not pushing to my limits, but at the same time, I still felt like it was an okay race, just not a "leave it all out there" race. My age group was tough (I finished 9/21 in my age group, but still managed to be 14th female overall).
So yeah, in short: good warm up, decent swim, good transitions, hard but okay bike, capped off with a hard (in terrain, but not effort), lacklustre run.
Kelowna is up next. I’m actually pretty excited for it and also hoping that I get a bit of my spark back before then.
Oh, and after reading my race report, this is the video Kelly sent me for inspiration :)
Friday, August 5, 2011
Words by Others
I came across this post today on Slowtwitch (actual posting can be found here).
It gave me chills.
So, to everyone I know heading to Penticton to tackle IMC on August 28th, this is worth a read. Enjoy the day! I can't wait to cheer you all on.
Original Post by:
"Hurricane Bob"
Aug 25, 2010 8:03
For Those of you Heading to Penticton
Fellow HTFU'ers of Slowtwitch United...
Once again, IMC has snuck up on me. Funny how that happens when you're not actively training for a late-season IM. Regardless, I hope it's not too late to dust this off and send those racing to the Okanagan ready to roll.
Brief History: This was originally written for a friend on the TRI-DRS list in 2002, when she began her mid-taper meltdown (hey, we've all been there). Since then, it's taken on a life of its own. I posted it four years ago on ST, and received a wonderful set of responses (as well as a podcast!), so I figured it couldn't hurt to bring it back.
Without further adieu, to those of you heading to Ironman Canada this week - to the IM-Virgins, the veterans, and everyone in-between...
==================
Right now you've all entered the taper. Perhaps you've been at this a few months, perhaps you've been at this a few years. For some of you this is your first IM, for others, a long-overdue welcome back to a race that few can match.
You've been following your schedule to the letter. You've been piling on the mileage, piling up the laundry, and getting a set of tan lines that will take until November to erase. Long rides were followed by long runs, which both were preceeded by long swims, all of which were followed by recovery naps that were longer than you slept for any given night during college.
You ran in the snow.
You rode in the rain.
You ran in the heat.
You ran in the cold.
You went out when others stayed home.
You rode the trainer when others pulled the covers over their heads.
You have survived the Darwinian progression that is an Ironman summer, and now the hardest days are behind you. Like a climber in the Tour de France coming over the summit of the penultimate climb on an alpine stage, you've already covered so much ground...there's just one more climb to go. You shift up, you take a drink, you zip up the jersey; the descent lays before you...and it will be a fast one.
Time that used to be filled with never-ending work will now be filling with silent muscles, taking their final, well-earned rest. While this taper is something your body desperately needs, Your mind, cast off to the background for so very long, will start to speak to you.
It won't be pretty.
It will bring up thoughts of doubt, pain, hunger, thirst, failure, and loss. It will give you reasons why you aren't ready. It will try and make one last stand to stop you, because your brain doesn't know what the body already does. Your body knows the truth:
You are ready.
Your brain won't believe it. It will use the taper to convince you that this is foolish - that there is too much that can go wrong.
You are ready.
Finishing an Ironman is never an accident. It's the result of dedication, focus, hard work, and belief that all the long runs in
January, long rides in April, and long swims every damn weekend will be worth it. It comes from getting on the bike, day in, day out. It comes from long, solo runs. From that first long run where you wondered, "How will I ever be ready?" to the last long run where you smiled to yourself with one mile to go...knowing that you'd found the answer.
It is worth it. Now that you're at the taper, you know it will be worth it. The workload becomes less. The body winds up and prepares, and you just need to quiet your worried mind. Not easy, but you can do it.
You are ready.
You will walk into the lagoon on August 26th with 2000 other wide-open sets of eyes. You will look upon the sea of humanity, and know that you belong. You'll feel the chill of the water crawl into your wetsuit, and shiver like everyone else, but smile because the day you have waited for for so VERY long is finally here.
The bagpipers will walk across the beach. Steve King will ask you to sing along. You will.
O Canada!
Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!
From far and wide,
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
You will tear up in your goggles. Everyone does.
The helicopters will roar overhead.
Maranatha will roar. The splashing will surround you.
You'll stop thinking about Ironman, because you're now racing one.
The swim will be long - it's long for everyone, but you'll make it. You'll watch as the Penticton Lakeside Hotel grows and grows, and soon you'll hear the end. You'll come up the beach and head for the wetsuit strippers. Three people will get that sucker off before you know what's happening, then you'll head for the bike.
In the shadows on Main Street you'll spin out of town - the voices, the cowbells, and the curb-to-curb chalk giving you a hero's sendoff. You won't wipe the smile off your face for miles as you whisk along the lakeside, past fully stocked, silent aid stations for the run to come.
You'll spin up McLean Creak Road. You'll roll down towards Osoyoos, past the vineyards glowing in the morning sun. You'll settle down to your race. The crowds will spread out on the road. You'll soon be on your bike, eating your food on your schedule, controlling your Ironman.
Richter Pass will come. Everyone talks about it, but it's really nothing. You'll know this halfway up, as you're breathing easy and climbing smoothly. Look to your right. Look how high you're climbing. Look at all the bikes below, still making their way there. You're ahead of them. All of them.
You'll climb over Richter, and descend to the valley below. You'll ride the rollers, one at a time. You'll start to feel that morning sun turn to afternoon sun. It's warmer now. Maybe it's hot. Maybe you're not feeling so good now. You'll keep riding. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep moving. After all, this is just a long training day with valet parking and catering, right?
You'll put the rollers behind you. You'll head into the Cawston out and back. You'll put on your game face, fighting the urge to feel down as you ride the wrong way for what seems like hours. 10 miles in, you reach special needs, fuel up, and head out.
By now it'll be hot. You'll be tired. Doubts will fight for your focus. Everyone struggles here. You've been on that bike for a few hours, and stopping would be nice, but you won't - not here. Not today. You'll ride on leaving Cawston behind you and head for the final showdown at Yellow Lake.
You'll grind the false flats to the climb. You'll know you're almost there. You'll fight for every inch of road. You'll make the turn towards the summit as the valley walls close in for the kill, and put your head down. The crowd will come back to you here - the cars are always waiting to cross the summit, and you'll soon be surrounded in the glorious noise that is the final climb of Ironman Canada. Let their energy push you. Let them see your eyes. Smile when they cheer for you - your body will get just that little bit lighter.
Grind.
Fight.
Suffer.
Persevere.
Summit.
Just like that, you'll be descending. 12 miles to go, and no climbing left. You'll plunge down the road, swooping from corner to corner, chaining together the turns, tucking on the straights, letting your legs recover for the run to come - soon! You'll roll back into town - you'll see people running out. You'll think to yourself, "Wasn't I just here?" The noise will grow. The chalk dust will hang in the air - you're back in Penticton, with only 26.2 miles to go. You'll relax a little bit, knowing that even if you get a flat tire or something breaks here, you can run the damn bike into T2.
You'll roll into transition. 100 volunteers will fight for your bike. You'll give it up and not look back. You'll have your bag handed to you, and into the tent you'll go. You'll change. You'll load up your pockets, and open the door to the last long run of your Ironman summer - the one that counts.
You'll take that first step of a thousand...and you'll smile. You'll know that the bike won't let you down now - the race is down to your own two feet. The same crowd that cheered for you in the shadows of the morning will cheer for you in the brilliant sunshine of a Penticton summer Sunday. High-five people on the way out. Smile. Enjoy it. This is what you've worked for all year long.
That first mile will feel great. So will the second.
By mile 3, you probably won't feel so good.
That's okay. You knew it couldn't all be that easy. You'll settle down just like you did on the bike, and get down to your pace. You'll see the leaders coming back the other way. Some will look great - some won't. You might feel great, you might not. No matter how you feel, don't panic - this is the part of the day where whatever you're feeling, you can be sure it won't last.
You'll keep moving. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep eating. Maybe you'll be right on plan - maybe you won't. If you're ahead of schedule, don't worry - believe. If you're behind, don't panic - roll with it. Everyone comes up with a brilliant race plan for Ironman, and then everyone has to deal with the reality that planning for something like Ironman is like trying to land a man on the moon. By remote control. Blindfolded.
How you react to the changes in your plan will dictate your day. Don't waste energy worrying about things - just do what you have to when you have to, and keep moving. Keep eating. Keep drinking. Just don't sit down - don't EVER sit down.
You'll make it to halfway at OK Falls. You'll load up on special needs. Some of what you packed will look good, some won't. Eat what looks good, toss the rest. Keep moving. Start looking for people you know. Cheer for people you don't. You're headed in - they're not. They want to be where you are, just like you wanted to be when you saw all those fast people headed into town. Share some energy - you'll get it right back.
Run if you can.
Walk if you have to.
Just keep moving.
The miles will drag on. The brilliant Penticton sunshine will yawn, and head for the mountains behind the bike course...behind that last downhill you flew down all those hours ago. You'll be coming up to those aid stations you passed when you started the bike...fully alive with people, music, and chicken soup. TAKE THE SOUP. Keep moving.
You'll soon only have a few miles to go. You'll start to believe that you're going to make it. You'll start to imagine how good it's going to feel when you get there. Let those feelings drive you on. When your legs just don't want to move anymore, think about what it's going to be like when someone catches you...puts a medal over your head...
...all you have to do is get there.
You'll start to hear town. People you can't see in the twilight will cheer for you. They'll call out your name. Smile and thank them. They were there when you left on the bike, and when you came back, when you left on the run, and now when you've come back.
You'll enter town. You'll start to realize that the day is almost over. You'll be exhausted, wiped out, barely able to run a 10-minute mile (if you're lucky), but you'll ask yourself, "Where did the whole day go?" You'll be standing on the edge of two feelings - the desire to finally stop, and the desire to take these last moments and make them last as long as possible.
You'll hit mile 25. You'll turn onto Lakeside Drive. Your Ironman Canada will have 1.2 miles - just 2KM left in it.
You'll run. You'll find your legs. You'll fly. You won't know how, but you will run. You'll make the turn in front of the Sicamous in the dark, and head for home. The lights will grow brighter, brighter, and brighter. Soon you'll be able to hear the music again. This time, it'll be for keeps.
You'll listen for Steve King, or Mike Reilly, or Whit Raymond. Soon they'll see you. Soon, everyone will see you. You'll run towards the lights, between the fences, and into the nightsun made just for you.
They'll say your name.
You'll keep running.
Nothing will hurt.
The moment will be yours - for one moment, the entire world will be looking at you and only you.
You'll break the tape. The flash will go off.
You'll stop. You'll finally stop. Your legs will wobble their last, and suddenly...be capable of nothing more.
Someone will catch you.
You'll lean into them.
It will suddenly hit you.
You will be an Ironman.
You are ready.
Hurricane Bob
* You are ready. *
It gave me chills.
So, to everyone I know heading to Penticton to tackle IMC on August 28th, this is worth a read. Enjoy the day! I can't wait to cheer you all on.
Original Post by:
"Hurricane Bob"
Aug 25, 2010 8:03
For Those of you Heading to Penticton
Fellow HTFU'ers of Slowtwitch United...
Once again, IMC has snuck up on me. Funny how that happens when you're not actively training for a late-season IM. Regardless, I hope it's not too late to dust this off and send those racing to the Okanagan ready to roll.
Brief History: This was originally written for a friend on the TRI-DRS list in 2002, when she began her mid-taper meltdown (hey, we've all been there). Since then, it's taken on a life of its own. I posted it four years ago on ST, and received a wonderful set of responses (as well as a podcast!), so I figured it couldn't hurt to bring it back.
Without further adieu, to those of you heading to Ironman Canada this week - to the IM-Virgins, the veterans, and everyone in-between...
==================
Right now you've all entered the taper. Perhaps you've been at this a few months, perhaps you've been at this a few years. For some of you this is your first IM, for others, a long-overdue welcome back to a race that few can match.
You've been following your schedule to the letter. You've been piling on the mileage, piling up the laundry, and getting a set of tan lines that will take until November to erase. Long rides were followed by long runs, which both were preceeded by long swims, all of which were followed by recovery naps that were longer than you slept for any given night during college.
You ran in the snow.
You rode in the rain.
You ran in the heat.
You ran in the cold.
You went out when others stayed home.
You rode the trainer when others pulled the covers over their heads.
You have survived the Darwinian progression that is an Ironman summer, and now the hardest days are behind you. Like a climber in the Tour de France coming over the summit of the penultimate climb on an alpine stage, you've already covered so much ground...there's just one more climb to go. You shift up, you take a drink, you zip up the jersey; the descent lays before you...and it will be a fast one.
Time that used to be filled with never-ending work will now be filling with silent muscles, taking their final, well-earned rest. While this taper is something your body desperately needs, Your mind, cast off to the background for so very long, will start to speak to you.
It won't be pretty.
It will bring up thoughts of doubt, pain, hunger, thirst, failure, and loss. It will give you reasons why you aren't ready. It will try and make one last stand to stop you, because your brain doesn't know what the body already does. Your body knows the truth:
You are ready.
Your brain won't believe it. It will use the taper to convince you that this is foolish - that there is too much that can go wrong.
You are ready.
Finishing an Ironman is never an accident. It's the result of dedication, focus, hard work, and belief that all the long runs in
January, long rides in April, and long swims every damn weekend will be worth it. It comes from getting on the bike, day in, day out. It comes from long, solo runs. From that first long run where you wondered, "How will I ever be ready?" to the last long run where you smiled to yourself with one mile to go...knowing that you'd found the answer.
It is worth it. Now that you're at the taper, you know it will be worth it. The workload becomes less. The body winds up and prepares, and you just need to quiet your worried mind. Not easy, but you can do it.
You are ready.
You will walk into the lagoon on August 26th with 2000 other wide-open sets of eyes. You will look upon the sea of humanity, and know that you belong. You'll feel the chill of the water crawl into your wetsuit, and shiver like everyone else, but smile because the day you have waited for for so VERY long is finally here.
The bagpipers will walk across the beach. Steve King will ask you to sing along. You will.
O Canada!
Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!
From far and wide,
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
You will tear up in your goggles. Everyone does.
The helicopters will roar overhead.
Maranatha will roar. The splashing will surround you.
You'll stop thinking about Ironman, because you're now racing one.
The swim will be long - it's long for everyone, but you'll make it. You'll watch as the Penticton Lakeside Hotel grows and grows, and soon you'll hear the end. You'll come up the beach and head for the wetsuit strippers. Three people will get that sucker off before you know what's happening, then you'll head for the bike.
In the shadows on Main Street you'll spin out of town - the voices, the cowbells, and the curb-to-curb chalk giving you a hero's sendoff. You won't wipe the smile off your face for miles as you whisk along the lakeside, past fully stocked, silent aid stations for the run to come.
You'll spin up McLean Creak Road. You'll roll down towards Osoyoos, past the vineyards glowing in the morning sun. You'll settle down to your race. The crowds will spread out on the road. You'll soon be on your bike, eating your food on your schedule, controlling your Ironman.
Richter Pass will come. Everyone talks about it, but it's really nothing. You'll know this halfway up, as you're breathing easy and climbing smoothly. Look to your right. Look how high you're climbing. Look at all the bikes below, still making their way there. You're ahead of them. All of them.
You'll climb over Richter, and descend to the valley below. You'll ride the rollers, one at a time. You'll start to feel that morning sun turn to afternoon sun. It's warmer now. Maybe it's hot. Maybe you're not feeling so good now. You'll keep riding. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep moving. After all, this is just a long training day with valet parking and catering, right?
You'll put the rollers behind you. You'll head into the Cawston out and back. You'll put on your game face, fighting the urge to feel down as you ride the wrong way for what seems like hours. 10 miles in, you reach special needs, fuel up, and head out.
By now it'll be hot. You'll be tired. Doubts will fight for your focus. Everyone struggles here. You've been on that bike for a few hours, and stopping would be nice, but you won't - not here. Not today. You'll ride on leaving Cawston behind you and head for the final showdown at Yellow Lake.
You'll grind the false flats to the climb. You'll know you're almost there. You'll fight for every inch of road. You'll make the turn towards the summit as the valley walls close in for the kill, and put your head down. The crowd will come back to you here - the cars are always waiting to cross the summit, and you'll soon be surrounded in the glorious noise that is the final climb of Ironman Canada. Let their energy push you. Let them see your eyes. Smile when they cheer for you - your body will get just that little bit lighter.
Grind.
Fight.
Suffer.
Persevere.
Summit.
Just like that, you'll be descending. 12 miles to go, and no climbing left. You'll plunge down the road, swooping from corner to corner, chaining together the turns, tucking on the straights, letting your legs recover for the run to come - soon! You'll roll back into town - you'll see people running out. You'll think to yourself, "Wasn't I just here?" The noise will grow. The chalk dust will hang in the air - you're back in Penticton, with only 26.2 miles to go. You'll relax a little bit, knowing that even if you get a flat tire or something breaks here, you can run the damn bike into T2.
You'll roll into transition. 100 volunteers will fight for your bike. You'll give it up and not look back. You'll have your bag handed to you, and into the tent you'll go. You'll change. You'll load up your pockets, and open the door to the last long run of your Ironman summer - the one that counts.
You'll take that first step of a thousand...and you'll smile. You'll know that the bike won't let you down now - the race is down to your own two feet. The same crowd that cheered for you in the shadows of the morning will cheer for you in the brilliant sunshine of a Penticton summer Sunday. High-five people on the way out. Smile. Enjoy it. This is what you've worked for all year long.
That first mile will feel great. So will the second.
By mile 3, you probably won't feel so good.
That's okay. You knew it couldn't all be that easy. You'll settle down just like you did on the bike, and get down to your pace. You'll see the leaders coming back the other way. Some will look great - some won't. You might feel great, you might not. No matter how you feel, don't panic - this is the part of the day where whatever you're feeling, you can be sure it won't last.
You'll keep moving. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep eating. Maybe you'll be right on plan - maybe you won't. If you're ahead of schedule, don't worry - believe. If you're behind, don't panic - roll with it. Everyone comes up with a brilliant race plan for Ironman, and then everyone has to deal with the reality that planning for something like Ironman is like trying to land a man on the moon. By remote control. Blindfolded.
How you react to the changes in your plan will dictate your day. Don't waste energy worrying about things - just do what you have to when you have to, and keep moving. Keep eating. Keep drinking. Just don't sit down - don't EVER sit down.
You'll make it to halfway at OK Falls. You'll load up on special needs. Some of what you packed will look good, some won't. Eat what looks good, toss the rest. Keep moving. Start looking for people you know. Cheer for people you don't. You're headed in - they're not. They want to be where you are, just like you wanted to be when you saw all those fast people headed into town. Share some energy - you'll get it right back.
Run if you can.
Walk if you have to.
Just keep moving.
The miles will drag on. The brilliant Penticton sunshine will yawn, and head for the mountains behind the bike course...behind that last downhill you flew down all those hours ago. You'll be coming up to those aid stations you passed when you started the bike...fully alive with people, music, and chicken soup. TAKE THE SOUP. Keep moving.
You'll soon only have a few miles to go. You'll start to believe that you're going to make it. You'll start to imagine how good it's going to feel when you get there. Let those feelings drive you on. When your legs just don't want to move anymore, think about what it's going to be like when someone catches you...puts a medal over your head...
...all you have to do is get there.
You'll start to hear town. People you can't see in the twilight will cheer for you. They'll call out your name. Smile and thank them. They were there when you left on the bike, and when you came back, when you left on the run, and now when you've come back.
You'll enter town. You'll start to realize that the day is almost over. You'll be exhausted, wiped out, barely able to run a 10-minute mile (if you're lucky), but you'll ask yourself, "Where did the whole day go?" You'll be standing on the edge of two feelings - the desire to finally stop, and the desire to take these last moments and make them last as long as possible.
You'll hit mile 25. You'll turn onto Lakeside Drive. Your Ironman Canada will have 1.2 miles - just 2KM left in it.
You'll run. You'll find your legs. You'll fly. You won't know how, but you will run. You'll make the turn in front of the Sicamous in the dark, and head for home. The lights will grow brighter, brighter, and brighter. Soon you'll be able to hear the music again. This time, it'll be for keeps.
You'll listen for Steve King, or Mike Reilly, or Whit Raymond. Soon they'll see you. Soon, everyone will see you. You'll run towards the lights, between the fences, and into the nightsun made just for you.
They'll say your name.
You'll keep running.
Nothing will hurt.
The moment will be yours - for one moment, the entire world will be looking at you and only you.
You'll break the tape. The flash will go off.
You'll stop. You'll finally stop. Your legs will wobble their last, and suddenly...be capable of nothing more.
Someone will catch you.
You'll lean into them.
It will suddenly hit you.
You will be an Ironman.
You are ready.
Hurricane Bob
* You are ready. *
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Sri Chinmoy Self-Transcendence Triathlon – Race Report
As mentioned in an earlier post, this past Sunday I raced the Olympic distance event at the Sri Chinmoy Self-Transcendence Triathlon (my first ever Olympic distance event – yes, it really was my first Oly).
I wasn’t alone this weekend (not that I ever really am though), as this was truly a family affair! Kirsten joined me in the Olympic, Tyler raced the Sprint Tri and my Dad conquered the Duathlon, while Shane and my Mom cheered us all on.
In all honesty, I barely thought about the race until it hit me on Saturday afternoon - at which point I started to get really nervous and really anxious about it (which, considering I had no real expectations for this race and had planned to treat it more as a hard training day, I thought the amount and level of nerves I was experiencing was a bit odd, but what can you do eh?).
So, let’s see. Like any good triathlon, let’s start with the swim shall we?
My swim was not great. About 5-10 strokes in, my Road ID (which I wear as a medic alert bracelet) got knocked off my wrist. Luckily I saw it flying through the air (and land with a sploosh right in front of me) and was able to grab it and shove it down the front of my wetsuit before it sank to the bottom of dirty old Elk Lake. Unfortunately, the whole event kind of flustered me a bit, as I hadn’t come off my anticoagulants for this race, so I thought it was important that I didn’t go out on the bike without some sort of medic alert on my body. And so, I worried the whole swim that I was going to lose it as I stripped my wetsuit off in T1. Anyway, the few seconds of breast stroking it took to catch it and shove it in my wetsuit, plus my senseless worry, sort of knocked my rhythm out of whack a bit and I just never really felt like I found a good pace or comfortable rhythm after that. Realistically, it wasn’t a terrible swim; I just know I am capable of better.
T1 was a bit slow, mainly because I needed to fish my medic alert out of the chest of my wetsuit (it was still there – yay!) and put it back on my wrist. Other than that though, I managed a relaxed speed and was on my way fairly quickly with a decent ‘flying mount’.
The bike was definitely better than the swim (which doesn’t happen that often for me). After the Victoria Sprint at the end of June, where it felt like my legs were full of cement and hurt like hell, I had kind of decided before this race that my goal for the bike was going to be to focus on my cadence and not try to kill it or muscle up the hills, but just to spin them in hopes of feeling good for the run... and I think I accomplished that.
Admittedly, there were a few moments at the start of the bike where I was asking myself why I didn’t do the sprint and where my quads and hips were hurting pretty good, but once I got into it, I actually enjoyed it. I’ve ridden West Saanich Road enough that it is familiar, but not so much this season that I’m tired of it, so while I knew where I was going and could anticipate some of the ups and downs, it didn’t feel too predictable (if that makes any sort of rambling sense).
Another positive from the bike was my nutrition. I feel like I've been slacking on race nutrition this year, so I was glad I pulled it all together.
T2 was decent. My dismount was pretty good and I felt like I was at the rack pretty quick. I had a weird moment when I first got off the bike where I was quite dizzy and felt really nauseous, but it didn’t last too too long. I put socks on for the run (which I haven’t done in any other race this year) so that definitely slowed me down a little, but otherwise, again, I felt relaxed and quick(ish).
The run was, well, the run. My left calf was up to its usual tricks and was cramping/hurting pretty badly for the first couple km’s, but I guess I knew it was going to go away eventually so I just tried to push through it. I actually felt like I was running really slowly (like painfully slow), but I was kind of at the point mentally where I didn’t really care what my finish time was, I just wanted to finish the race and feel good (both physically and mentally)… so I just kind of plugged along.
I passed a few people and got passed by some as well and surprisingly, I just kind of enjoyed myself – on the run (weird, I know). That said, every time I heard footsteps behind me I expected to see Kirsten go whipping past (which luckily, never happened). When I finally got to the point of about 3 or 4k left I think I picked it up a little and at the end (while it was by no means fast) I was pleasantly surprised that my run time was what it was, as I thought it was going to be much much slower.
So, overall, I’d say it was a good day. I had fun, got a PB (even though that was inevitable considering this was my first Oly), got a surprise 3rd place finish in my age group, and felt really good after the race physically – to the point where I think I probably should have tried to push myself a little harder, haha.
It was also great to see my Dad cross the finish line of his first Duathlon (with a 2nd place AG finish to boot!) - even though I think he's a little crazy for choosing to Run-Bike-Run. Two run legs in one race? No thank you ;)
Most photos courtesy of: Chris Mcdonald at http://www.cjmedia.smugmug.com. One or two courtesy of Mom :)
I wasn’t alone this weekend (not that I ever really am though), as this was truly a family affair! Kirsten joined me in the Olympic, Tyler raced the Sprint Tri and my Dad conquered the Duathlon, while Shane and my Mom cheered us all on.
In all honesty, I barely thought about the race until it hit me on Saturday afternoon - at which point I started to get really nervous and really anxious about it (which, considering I had no real expectations for this race and had planned to treat it more as a hard training day, I thought the amount and level of nerves I was experiencing was a bit odd, but what can you do eh?).
So, let’s see. Like any good triathlon, let’s start with the swim shall we?
My swim was not great. About 5-10 strokes in, my Road ID (which I wear as a medic alert bracelet) got knocked off my wrist. Luckily I saw it flying through the air (and land with a sploosh right in front of me) and was able to grab it and shove it down the front of my wetsuit before it sank to the bottom of dirty old Elk Lake. Unfortunately, the whole event kind of flustered me a bit, as I hadn’t come off my anticoagulants for this race, so I thought it was important that I didn’t go out on the bike without some sort of medic alert on my body. And so, I worried the whole swim that I was going to lose it as I stripped my wetsuit off in T1. Anyway, the few seconds of breast stroking it took to catch it and shove it in my wetsuit, plus my senseless worry, sort of knocked my rhythm out of whack a bit and I just never really felt like I found a good pace or comfortable rhythm after that. Realistically, it wasn’t a terrible swim; I just know I am capable of better.
T1 was a bit slow, mainly because I needed to fish my medic alert out of the chest of my wetsuit (it was still there – yay!) and put it back on my wrist. Other than that though, I managed a relaxed speed and was on my way fairly quickly with a decent ‘flying mount’.
The bike was definitely better than the swim (which doesn’t happen that often for me). After the Victoria Sprint at the end of June, where it felt like my legs were full of cement and hurt like hell, I had kind of decided before this race that my goal for the bike was going to be to focus on my cadence and not try to kill it or muscle up the hills, but just to spin them in hopes of feeling good for the run... and I think I accomplished that.
Admittedly, there were a few moments at the start of the bike where I was asking myself why I didn’t do the sprint and where my quads and hips were hurting pretty good, but once I got into it, I actually enjoyed it. I’ve ridden West Saanich Road enough that it is familiar, but not so much this season that I’m tired of it, so while I knew where I was going and could anticipate some of the ups and downs, it didn’t feel too predictable (if that makes any sort of rambling sense).
Another positive from the bike was my nutrition. I feel like I've been slacking on race nutrition this year, so I was glad I pulled it all together.
T2 was decent. My dismount was pretty good and I felt like I was at the rack pretty quick. I had a weird moment when I first got off the bike where I was quite dizzy and felt really nauseous, but it didn’t last too too long. I put socks on for the run (which I haven’t done in any other race this year) so that definitely slowed me down a little, but otherwise, again, I felt relaxed and quick(ish).
The run was, well, the run. My left calf was up to its usual tricks and was cramping/hurting pretty badly for the first couple km’s, but I guess I knew it was going to go away eventually so I just tried to push through it. I actually felt like I was running really slowly (like painfully slow), but I was kind of at the point mentally where I didn’t really care what my finish time was, I just wanted to finish the race and feel good (both physically and mentally)… so I just kind of plugged along.
I passed a few people and got passed by some as well and surprisingly, I just kind of enjoyed myself – on the run (weird, I know). That said, every time I heard footsteps behind me I expected to see Kirsten go whipping past (which luckily, never happened). When I finally got to the point of about 3 or 4k left I think I picked it up a little and at the end (while it was by no means fast) I was pleasantly surprised that my run time was what it was, as I thought it was going to be much much slower.
So, overall, I’d say it was a good day. I had fun, got a PB (even though that was inevitable considering this was my first Oly), got a surprise 3rd place finish in my age group, and felt really good after the race physically – to the point where I think I probably should have tried to push myself a little harder, haha.
It was also great to see my Dad cross the finish line of his first Duathlon (with a 2nd place AG finish to boot!) - even though I think he's a little crazy for choosing to Run-Bike-Run. Two run legs in one race? No thank you ;)
Most photos courtesy of: Chris Mcdonald at http://www.cjmedia.smugmug.com. One or two courtesy of Mom :)
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Miscellaneous Mumbo-Jumbo
Well, it’s that time again ~ time for a random assortment of my thoughts and happenings from the past couple weeks.
As I sit here thinking about what I’ve been up to and what to write about, these are the words and ideas that popped into my brain: Training, Orlando, TessiNERDian 5km, Sri, First Oly, Poop-y Water, Sooke, Le Tour Withdrawl, and finally, long weekend!
Random, non?
So, where to begin… Well, how ‘bout Orlando?
Shane and I spent last week in sunny Florida, getting our Disney on. Well, it wasn’t exactly a vacation, as I was in Orlando for a conference with work. The Tessitura Learning & Community Conference to be exact. Tessitura is the ticketing/development software we use at work and it is used by hundreds of other arts organizations through North America, Australia and the UK. So, imagine a group of Arts nerds mixed with a group of IT nerds, and well, you have the Tessitura Conference. Shane has accurately nicknamed the attendees of this conference – TessiNERDians. He would be correct. Sadly, I suppose I am one of these nerds eh?
Anyway, I digress… The conference is pretty full on with training and info sessions, but this year the organizers scheduled in a fair bit of downtime as well, so Shane and I took advantage of this and spent many an hour at the Disney theme parks.
We road tested cars, soared above California, and travelled the world at Epcot; won the golden Fast Pass at the Magic Kingdom which allowed us to easily launch into space (mountain) before splashing back down to earth. We rock n’ roller coastered our way to terrifying towers and saw stunt spectaculars at Hollywood Studios before venturing into the African Safari and climbing Mount Everest at Animal Kingdom! Phew, that was a lot of stuff to pack into 8 days! It was hot, it was crowded and it was EXPENSIVE, but it was also a lot of fun. I’m definitely a sucker for Disney (and lego bull dogs).
As for training while in Orlando, well, not a lot happened. I did get in a few (HOT) runs and even participated in a 5km fun run/walk that the conference puts on, but really not much else (other than a heck of a lot of walking) took place. I think the downtime may have been needed though and I’m hoping it helped recharge me as I head into the later part of the tri season.
Now, back to the 5km fun run/walk. Last year I was the 4th female overall (just missing out on the prizes) so I vowed to make it to the (virtual) podium this year… and I did! I was the 1st female overall (and top 5 or 6 overall, overall). While the competition really wasn’t that challenging (and the race was only 4.5km according to my Garmin), I had a good run in very very HOT and HUMID weather. I was on pace for a PB and, in all honesty, I wasn’t even pushing as hard as I could have. So yeah, it was my first win, and well, I’ll take it! Oh, and I guess that means I’m the fastest female TessiNERDian, haha.
Back in Victoria and back to reality, I’ve settled back into my regular training routine over the last couple days.
This weekend I will be racing the Sri Chinmoy Self-Transcendence Triathlon. This will be my first time participating in this event, and will be my first Olympic distance triathlon ever! It kind of shocks me sometimes that I’ve never raced this distance. That said, the CRD has posted a health advisory notice regarding Hamsterly Beach at Elk Lake and the lake may get closed due to high levels of fecal coliform (yuck). So, I guess I could potentially be racing in my first Duathlon this weekend. Either way, I guess it will be something new. Regardless of what the race turns out to be (tri or du), I’ve been approaching this event more as a hard training day and don’t have much expectation. In the end, I’m just hoping to get out there, have fun and feel good at the end of it.
I’ll admit, the following weekend in Sooke is when I really hope to pull things together and have a kick ass race!
Other random notes… I’m totally going through le Tour withdrawl. So, a picture of Johnny Hoogerland’s cut up white butt is in order I think. Getting slammed into a barbed wire fence by a French media car really upped this guy's prominence on the internet eh?
And finally, just yesterday I realized that this coming weekend is BC Day and a long weekend! What a great surprise.
HAPPY BC DAY EVERYONE!
As I sit here thinking about what I’ve been up to and what to write about, these are the words and ideas that popped into my brain: Training, Orlando, TessiNERDian 5km, Sri, First Oly, Poop-y Water, Sooke, Le Tour Withdrawl, and finally, long weekend!
Random, non?
So, where to begin… Well, how ‘bout Orlando?
Shane and I spent last week in sunny Florida, getting our Disney on. Well, it wasn’t exactly a vacation, as I was in Orlando for a conference with work. The Tessitura Learning & Community Conference to be exact. Tessitura is the ticketing/development software we use at work and it is used by hundreds of other arts organizations through North America, Australia and the UK. So, imagine a group of Arts nerds mixed with a group of IT nerds, and well, you have the Tessitura Conference. Shane has accurately nicknamed the attendees of this conference – TessiNERDians. He would be correct. Sadly, I suppose I am one of these nerds eh?
Anyway, I digress… The conference is pretty full on with training and info sessions, but this year the organizers scheduled in a fair bit of downtime as well, so Shane and I took advantage of this and spent many an hour at the Disney theme parks.
We road tested cars, soared above California, and travelled the world at Epcot; won the golden Fast Pass at the Magic Kingdom which allowed us to easily launch into space (mountain) before splashing back down to earth. We rock n’ roller coastered our way to terrifying towers and saw stunt spectaculars at Hollywood Studios before venturing into the African Safari and climbing Mount Everest at Animal Kingdom! Phew, that was a lot of stuff to pack into 8 days! It was hot, it was crowded and it was EXPENSIVE, but it was also a lot of fun. I’m definitely a sucker for Disney (and lego bull dogs).
As for training while in Orlando, well, not a lot happened. I did get in a few (HOT) runs and even participated in a 5km fun run/walk that the conference puts on, but really not much else (other than a heck of a lot of walking) took place. I think the downtime may have been needed though and I’m hoping it helped recharge me as I head into the later part of the tri season.
Now, back to the 5km fun run/walk. Last year I was the 4th female overall (just missing out on the prizes) so I vowed to make it to the (virtual) podium this year… and I did! I was the 1st female overall (and top 5 or 6 overall, overall). While the competition really wasn’t that challenging (and the race was only 4.5km according to my Garmin), I had a good run in very very HOT and HUMID weather. I was on pace for a PB and, in all honesty, I wasn’t even pushing as hard as I could have. So yeah, it was my first win, and well, I’ll take it! Oh, and I guess that means I’m the fastest female TessiNERDian, haha.
Back in Victoria and back to reality, I’ve settled back into my regular training routine over the last couple days.
This weekend I will be racing the Sri Chinmoy Self-Transcendence Triathlon. This will be my first time participating in this event, and will be my first Olympic distance triathlon ever! It kind of shocks me sometimes that I’ve never raced this distance. That said, the CRD has posted a health advisory notice regarding Hamsterly Beach at Elk Lake and the lake may get closed due to high levels of fecal coliform (yuck). So, I guess I could potentially be racing in my first Duathlon this weekend. Either way, I guess it will be something new. Regardless of what the race turns out to be (tri or du), I’ve been approaching this event more as a hard training day and don’t have much expectation. In the end, I’m just hoping to get out there, have fun and feel good at the end of it.
I’ll admit, the following weekend in Sooke is when I really hope to pull things together and have a kick ass race!
Other random notes… I’m totally going through le Tour withdrawl. So, a picture of Johnny Hoogerland’s cut up white butt is in order I think. Getting slammed into a barbed wire fence by a French media car really upped this guy's prominence on the internet eh?
And finally, just yesterday I realized that this coming weekend is BC Day and a long weekend! What a great surprise.
HAPPY BC DAY EVERYONE!
Friday, July 15, 2011
J’adore le Tour de France!
I will admit that a large majority of my bike workouts have been on the trainer lately. This is not because of the bad weather, but more so, because I find the best way to start the day, is to pop the bike on the trainer, turn on le Tour and spin away.
I can’t get enough of the Tour really; it has that similar all-encompassing appeal that I feel when the Olympics are on. How can anyone possibly want to watch anything else?
Anyway, other than spending too much time on the trainer and not enough time on the road (although, I did have a great 2hr ride last weekend), training has been going pretty well. The aerobic block has been a nice change from the mass quantities of speed work and I am actually starting to feel slightly refreshed.
I feel like I should be blogging more, but really, I don't feel like I have anything super important, witty or interesting to say.
So, in closing... GO RYDER! GO THOR! GO GARMIN-CERVELO!
I can’t get enough of the Tour really; it has that similar all-encompassing appeal that I feel when the Olympics are on. How can anyone possibly want to watch anything else?
Anyway, other than spending too much time on the trainer and not enough time on the road (although, I did have a great 2hr ride last weekend), training has been going pretty well. The aerobic block has been a nice change from the mass quantities of speed work and I am actually starting to feel slightly refreshed.
I feel like I should be blogging more, but really, I don't feel like I have anything super important, witty or interesting to say.
So, in closing... GO RYDER! GO THOR! GO GARMIN-CERVELO!
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Simulation Race
July 3rd I had originally planned to race the Vancouver Sprint, but after having been sick again (the stupid cold that I had fought a few weeks earlier had reared its ugly head once again), I realized it might be good to stay home for the long weekend to relax and try and get better once and for all. A bonus to this was that I figured I might actually get some chores done (nope), and even save some money (nope, I bought new bike shoes – although I did refrain from buying the $50 Lululemon tank top so that's something right?).
So, instead of racing in Vancouver, Kirsten, Tyler (a.k.a. T-Rex) and I did a sort of mock triathlon – a “simulation race” if you will.
We started our day at Thetis (with the swim, naturally). The plan was to get in a bit of a warm up, then swim one loop of the small island. For timing, the first person out was to start the stopwatch when their wetsuit was fully removed, and then stop/lap it when the next person was fully out of their suit, etc. etc. so that we knew our intervals for the start of the bike/run portion.
After our warm up (if you can call a few arm swings and a very short swim a warm up) was complete, we lined up, three wide, chest deep in the waters of Thetis lake. On a count of 3-2-1-GO we were off!
I knew I should be able to beat Kirsten and T-Rex in the water, but I also knew that I needed to build up a good chunk of time if I wanted any chance of holding them off on the bike and run (especially the run) so I tried to find a good pace and rhythm right from the start. It seemed to work and I was pretty comfortable through the majority of the swim. I was fully peeled out of my wetsuit in a time of 17:48.
Kirsten emerged next, followed shortly after by Tyler.
What can you say about T1? Well, longest T1 ever! If this was an Ironman, you would have been disqualified for staying in the tent too long, haha. All jokes aside, it was actually planned out to be a bit of a break between swim and bike, as we headed out to CY Hampson Park in Sidney for a 2 loop bike TT and an out and back 5km run along Lochside Drive.
Since I was first out of the water I got a head start for the next leg of the ‘race’. The bike leg started with a quick transition and then it was time to hammer! The 2 loop course Kelly had laid out was relatively flat and for the most part felt fairly fast (aside from the fact that it felt like we had a headwind no matter which way we were riding – somebody please tell me, how does that happen?).
The course was just shy of 20k (I think about 17.5-18km) and seemed to be over before I knew it (it was definitely a confidence boosting ride). Because of the layout, I was able to catch glimpses of the other two at various points on the route, although it was hard to tell if they were gaining on me or not, so that kept me pushing as hard as I possibly could. Thankfully, I made it to the end of the bike without being passed. *Mini, self-congratulatory fist-pumping ensued
In a perfect world we would have been able to go straight from bike to run like in a real race, but since we needed to lock up our bikes, we had to do the whole finishing time/stopwatch interval thing like we did with the swim. So, needless to say, T2 was also long and not uber-realistic (although, it was not “change of venue” long).
So, now, it all came down to the run. I again got a bit of a head start due to how we finished the previous legs, but I knew both Kirsten and Tyler were (well, are) much stronger runners than me. If they passed me on this leg, that was it, they would have won the ‘race’. Even though it was just for fun, my competitive nature still took over and I was shaking in my sneakers as I began to run.
It was hot and the course felt like it had a few more (long gradual) hills than expected. I tried to run as fast as I could and just hold my pace for as long as possible. At one point a guy riding by on a funny little bike told me I was running 16km/h. I don’t know why, but I found this interaction quite funny. I made the turn around and knew there was only 2.5k to go. I saw Kirsten, and then Tyler and while I had a good distance on them, I also knew they were both totally capable of reeling me back in. The final 500m to 1km of the run felt like it took forever! I will admit to going from being afraid to look over my shoulder to see where they were, to having quick peeks, to finally within about 25m of the finish line, having a good look and realizing I had made it!
I was gutted, but wow, what a fun day. I think it was just what I needed – working at race effort, without the same pressure as a race.
From here, my training is going to focus on more aerobic level work for the next couple weeks, as I was starting to feel a bit of a burn out from all the speed work (and obviously, from all my sickness lately, my immune system is a little stressed). After chatting with Kelly, I think it will be a nice change of pace and should be good for me both physically and mentally.
At this point, I’m planning to close out July with the Sri Chinmoy Self-Transcendence Olympic Distance Triathlon. I’m more interested in doing this event for the length and will probably treat it more as a hard training day than a full out race. The following week, I plan to race in Sooke (sprint) before getting back into the final push before Kelowna at the end of August.
Fingers crossed it all goes according to plan :)
So, instead of racing in Vancouver, Kirsten, Tyler (a.k.a. T-Rex) and I did a sort of mock triathlon – a “simulation race” if you will.
We started our day at Thetis (with the swim, naturally). The plan was to get in a bit of a warm up, then swim one loop of the small island. For timing, the first person out was to start the stopwatch when their wetsuit was fully removed, and then stop/lap it when the next person was fully out of their suit, etc. etc. so that we knew our intervals for the start of the bike/run portion.
After our warm up (if you can call a few arm swings and a very short swim a warm up) was complete, we lined up, three wide, chest deep in the waters of Thetis lake. On a count of 3-2-1-GO we were off!
I knew I should be able to beat Kirsten and T-Rex in the water, but I also knew that I needed to build up a good chunk of time if I wanted any chance of holding them off on the bike and run (especially the run) so I tried to find a good pace and rhythm right from the start. It seemed to work and I was pretty comfortable through the majority of the swim. I was fully peeled out of my wetsuit in a time of 17:48.
Kirsten emerged next, followed shortly after by Tyler.
What can you say about T1? Well, longest T1 ever! If this was an Ironman, you would have been disqualified for staying in the tent too long, haha. All jokes aside, it was actually planned out to be a bit of a break between swim and bike, as we headed out to CY Hampson Park in Sidney for a 2 loop bike TT and an out and back 5km run along Lochside Drive.
Since I was first out of the water I got a head start for the next leg of the ‘race’. The bike leg started with a quick transition and then it was time to hammer! The 2 loop course Kelly had laid out was relatively flat and for the most part felt fairly fast (aside from the fact that it felt like we had a headwind no matter which way we were riding – somebody please tell me, how does that happen?).
The course was just shy of 20k (I think about 17.5-18km) and seemed to be over before I knew it (it was definitely a confidence boosting ride). Because of the layout, I was able to catch glimpses of the other two at various points on the route, although it was hard to tell if they were gaining on me or not, so that kept me pushing as hard as I possibly could. Thankfully, I made it to the end of the bike without being passed. *Mini, self-congratulatory fist-pumping ensued
In a perfect world we would have been able to go straight from bike to run like in a real race, but since we needed to lock up our bikes, we had to do the whole finishing time/stopwatch interval thing like we did with the swim. So, needless to say, T2 was also long and not uber-realistic (although, it was not “change of venue” long).
So, now, it all came down to the run. I again got a bit of a head start due to how we finished the previous legs, but I knew both Kirsten and Tyler were (well, are) much stronger runners than me. If they passed me on this leg, that was it, they would have won the ‘race’. Even though it was just for fun, my competitive nature still took over and I was shaking in my sneakers as I began to run.
It was hot and the course felt like it had a few more (long gradual) hills than expected. I tried to run as fast as I could and just hold my pace for as long as possible. At one point a guy riding by on a funny little bike told me I was running 16km/h. I don’t know why, but I found this interaction quite funny. I made the turn around and knew there was only 2.5k to go. I saw Kirsten, and then Tyler and while I had a good distance on them, I also knew they were both totally capable of reeling me back in. The final 500m to 1km of the run felt like it took forever! I will admit to going from being afraid to look over my shoulder to see where they were, to having quick peeks, to finally within about 25m of the finish line, having a good look and realizing I had made it!
I was gutted, but wow, what a fun day. I think it was just what I needed – working at race effort, without the same pressure as a race.
From here, my training is going to focus on more aerobic level work for the next couple weeks, as I was starting to feel a bit of a burn out from all the speed work (and obviously, from all my sickness lately, my immune system is a little stressed). After chatting with Kelly, I think it will be a nice change of pace and should be good for me both physically and mentally.
At this point, I’m planning to close out July with the Sri Chinmoy Self-Transcendence Olympic Distance Triathlon. I’m more interested in doing this event for the length and will probably treat it more as a hard training day than a full out race. The following week, I plan to race in Sooke (sprint) before getting back into the final push before Kelowna at the end of August.
Fingers crossed it all goes according to plan :)
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