My little Bean's umbilical hernia surgery was that morning (arrival time: 6 AM) and Master's swim class with Tri-Faster was the previous morning (arrival time: 5:45 AM) so sleep was scarce. My lobster would have preferred I skip this one to take care of our kids at the crucial bedtime and if I was a better mom I would have. But I was thinking about things like rankings and wetsuit experiments so I fixed dinner for the family and then took off.
I didn't wear a wetsuit this time and was surprised that nearly everyone else still did. The water temp certainly didn't warrant one. I figured my swim time was so abysmal last time that I didn't have much to lose. Turns out I shaved off nearly two minutes from the swim (and more from transition) without one. I still had that "swallowed everything under the sun and now my lungs are closing up" issue but I'll work on my swim breathing and hopefully fix that.
The run was a little slower--8:40 average pace--but the aforementioned lack of sleep probably caused that. I finished lower in the standings at #2 but remained part of a small group that had done both of them so far and therefore I sit at #4 in my AG. We'll see how long that lasts.
Sunday, June 22, 2014
Horribly Hilly Hundreds--6/14/14
This is the only race (or in this case "ride") I've registered for where a lottery system determines if you're in. And I really wanted this one. I grew up in Mt. Horeb and the area is heavily used by Ironman Madison. If I can do HHH, I'm well on my way to Moo.
On February 10th the lottery took place and I was in. Registration transfer requests began on the 11th from desperate non-selected riders but come hell or high water I wasn't giving up this one. I began planning training rides I never would've dreamed of even last year, including a day of biking to work and back and a 3-hour Saturday morning ride. I consulted with friends about things like nutrition (thanks Amy for the Payday tip!) and neck pain (time to get a new fitting). I began to think of little else (sorry wife and kids).
As it would turn out, our brutal winter translated into extra days of school. The new Last Day was the day before HHH. I never thought this would happen, but I cut my stay at Champ's to one beverage so I could hightail it to Mt. Horeb for packet pickup.
After a relaxing evening at Marc and Peg's house, I awoke at the crack of dawn and drove the short distance to Blue Mounds State Park and the start of the ride. (I always referred to it as a race even though it's not timed and there was no set start anyway but I've never done a ride before so it's all new here.) I'd studied the route map the night before to get an idea of the hills (frequency and intensity). I noticed the rest stops but didn't plan on utilizing them much (back to the "race" mentality). I was alone with no one to make small talk, and since it's a ride most people knew some others so they stuck to their own crowd. I got ready and headed to the start. It was casual, so when I learned we could take off whenever we liked I just did.
At 6 1/2 miles I thought I remembered the first hill beginning, but this was nothing much at all. I figured if this is what they're like then today shouldn't be so bad.
At 7-ish miles the hill really started and then I started to wonder if I was screwed. All this time I thought I knew hills but I didn't know hills like these. Over a dozen times on this ride I encountered "get your bike in the lowest gear possible and then get out of the saddle and then maybe you'll make it up or maybe you'll stop and walk it like so many around you".
Never once did I stop and walk on a hill.
But I did stop at Rest Stops. I took a gel, packed some pretzels, checked out the map, and chatted a little about (what else?) hills. I didn't stay long, but after all it was only a ride.
The last two and a half miles of the ride were the most awful and grueling incline on the planet. I knew it was coming and had fully accepted the very real possibility that I would need to dismount and walk. I still don't know how I managed to stay on my bike up that thing.
After the ride I racked my bike next to a couple making cracks about how idiotic it is to do this. I ended up sitting with them for lunch and a beer (or two). One of them had done Ironman and said HHH is much worse.
That makes it all worth it.
On February 10th the lottery took place and I was in. Registration transfer requests began on the 11th from desperate non-selected riders but come hell or high water I wasn't giving up this one. I began planning training rides I never would've dreamed of even last year, including a day of biking to work and back and a 3-hour Saturday morning ride. I consulted with friends about things like nutrition (thanks Amy for the Payday tip!) and neck pain (time to get a new fitting). I began to think of little else (sorry wife and kids).
As it would turn out, our brutal winter translated into extra days of school. The new Last Day was the day before HHH. I never thought this would happen, but I cut my stay at Champ's to one beverage so I could hightail it to Mt. Horeb for packet pickup.
After a relaxing evening at Marc and Peg's house, I awoke at the crack of dawn and drove the short distance to Blue Mounds State Park and the start of the ride. (I always referred to it as a race even though it's not timed and there was no set start anyway but I've never done a ride before so it's all new here.) I'd studied the route map the night before to get an idea of the hills (frequency and intensity). I noticed the rest stops but didn't plan on utilizing them much (back to the "race" mentality). I was alone with no one to make small talk, and since it's a ride most people knew some others so they stuck to their own crowd. I got ready and headed to the start. It was casual, so when I learned we could take off whenever we liked I just did.
At 6 1/2 miles I thought I remembered the first hill beginning, but this was nothing much at all. I figured if this is what they're like then today shouldn't be so bad.
At 7-ish miles the hill really started and then I started to wonder if I was screwed. All this time I thought I knew hills but I didn't know hills like these. Over a dozen times on this ride I encountered "get your bike in the lowest gear possible and then get out of the saddle and then maybe you'll make it up or maybe you'll stop and walk it like so many around you".
Never once did I stop and walk on a hill.
But I did stop at Rest Stops. I took a gel, packed some pretzels, checked out the map, and chatted a little about (what else?) hills. I didn't stay long, but after all it was only a ride.
The last two and a half miles of the ride were the most awful and grueling incline on the planet. I knew it was coming and had fully accepted the very real possibility that I would need to dismount and walk. I still don't know how I managed to stay on my bike up that thing.
After the ride I racked my bike next to a couple making cracks about how idiotic it is to do this. I ended up sitting with them for lunch and a beer (or two). One of them had done Ironman and said HHH is much worse.
That makes it all worth it.
Aquathon Series #1--5/29/14
I haven't swam in nearly a year, open water or otherwise. And an aquathon with its thousand-meter swim and 5K run takes out the middle part in which I've grown to gain ground. But I've got to get the swim back somehow so five times this summer I'll venture out shortly after dinnertime and join a hundred or so hard-core multi-sport athletes who are faster than me.
I brought my wetsuit to the first one. A brutal winter guaranteed icy cold temps though I knew nothing about the lake. Turns out it's small and not that cold but everyone else had theirs on so I did too.
That swim took forever. I swallowed so much water/air/seaweed/god-knows-what that my chest was tightening and restricting breathing--until it was over and I was able to let out the 20-second burp. The swim was slow, too. Almost everyone was faster.
My calf cramped up trying to get off the wetsuit. I don't drink enough water before races. And lake water during the swim doesn't count.
But then the run came and I took off. It was an out-n-back so I could count how many females were ahead and behind me; turns out the numbers were nearly even. The run hovered around 8:30 miles and I'll take it.
No athletic supporters to take pictures at this time of day but with a race less than an hour long it's just a good-effort training session. With plenty of friends around who are faster than me.
I brought my wetsuit to the first one. A brutal winter guaranteed icy cold temps though I knew nothing about the lake. Turns out it's small and not that cold but everyone else had theirs on so I did too.
That swim took forever. I swallowed so much water/air/seaweed/god-knows-what that my chest was tightening and restricting breathing--until it was over and I was able to let out the 20-second burp. The swim was slow, too. Almost everyone was faster.
My calf cramped up trying to get off the wetsuit. I don't drink enough water before races. And lake water during the swim doesn't count.
But then the run came and I took off. It was an out-n-back so I could count how many females were ahead and behind me; turns out the numbers were nearly even. The run hovered around 8:30 miles and I'll take it.
No athletic supporters to take pictures at this time of day but with a race less than an hour long it's just a good-effort training session. With plenty of friends around who are faster than me.
Delafield Duathlon--5/18/14
I remember feeling like I'll be back after last year's Delafield Du, and winning my AG didn't hurt either. It still had the hometown feeling a scrappy little race can provide. The course itself was still fine--well marked, plenty of (nonplussed) volunteers, a few spectators here and there, nothing spectacular. Awards and results took forever to announce and timing was archaic (I finished the first run at 8:02 AM--do the math to see how fast it was).
My athletic supporters arrived in time for Run #2 and still got some shots:
I left this one feeling like I'd outgrown the scrappy little race and I still won my AG this year. I'm not Miss Elite Triathlete, but maybe I'm just ready for a little more.
My athletic supporters arrived in time for Run #2 and still got some shots:
I left this one feeling like I'd outgrown the scrappy little race and I still won my AG this year. I'm not Miss Elite Triathlete, but maybe I'm just ready for a little more.
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