Waterloo Fit City Triathlon--8/12/12

Not wanting my season to end quite yet, I pondered the list of upcoming races that fell on an open weekend and wouldn't use up my entire birthday earnings or require a drive longer than an hour.  Options were few, but Waterloo popped up.  At first I dismissed it because it had a pool swim, and my bias labeled it "not a real triathlon".  The entry fee (half of most others) changed my mind.  

Then I got sucked into the vortex of Past Results--analyzing past winners' times and comparing them to my own.  I noticed tiny age groups (six or seven, maybe?), coupled with race times that suggested most racers were newbies.  I started to wonder again...hardware?  I wondered and wondered and wondered quite a bit, actually.  Because in a tiny race with casual first-timers, I can actually do well.

Race morning.  We drive to Waterloo High and park in the adjacent lot, walking past the bouncy house to the empty registration table about 30 yards from the van.  Man, I love small races.

Time to set up Transition.  You know, that grassy field about ten feet away from the pool.  Hmmm...where do I rack?  Only eight or ten bars, so finding Wave 3 wasn't too difficult.

Scoping out the pool scene.  Wave One was the slowest swimmers so we had some time to relax and watch the proceedings.  So often I find myself at a race surrounded by athletes who clearly spend large chunks (if not all) of their free time training, recovering, tapering, gear-tending...I'm sometimes one of them.  This race's participants are the Average Joe's, just trying their hand at something new to say "Hey, I did a triathlon".  It was neat to see.

My lobster has never gotten a photo of my swim before.  Here's the first.

The bike route was very mild--no sharp turns, no serious hills, no wind, no sun.  The most noticeable difference was a result of the staggered wave starts; I biked alone almost entirely, passing and being passed only a few times.  I clocked the fastest bike split ever, in a race and possibly even in training.  The girls had a good time too, on the Elementary School's playground.

In the end I pulled off 2nd in my AG.  

(I guess not everyone was an Average Joe.)

Then we modeled for each other.

My lobster liked athletic supporting this race because it was small, quiet, friendly and close.  I liked it for feeling like a big fish in a small, quiet, friendly pond.  Perhaps we'll be back again next year.

Wisconsin Triterium Triathlon--6/30/12

I signed up for this one a week or so in advance, drawn by the small size (only seven in my AG last year!  Hardware, maybe?), and only slightly daunted by the bike route's sell (On the Ironman Madison route!  That means hills.  Steep and frequent ones.).

Waiting in line to body mark and set up transition...scoping out the competition.  Looks like a lot more than seven in my AG.  Hardware, unlikely.

The announcement is made...water temp is 80 degrees.  That's like bath water, folks.  Ditched the wetsuit.

Hmm...I need to pee.  Can I find a spot in this lake or do I have to trek all the way up to the port-a-potty line?

I think we can all tell which option I chose.

Of course the girls want to be part of the action.  Crocs (the shoes, not the reptiles) are by law a horrible fashion statement, but they do serve one function:  facilitation of wading in lakes.

While mama's off swimming and biking, the girls found something much more interesting.

I'm back!  And to make up for a smooth-as-butter shoeless mount, I biffed the dismount.  I only got my foot out of one shoe before hitting the dismount line.  I unclipped the other shoe, whipped it off, and threw it to my athletic supporters.  I looked like a royal idiot.

Coming in for the finish, arms out like a chicken, ready for this one to be done.  The hills on the bike and run were overshadowed by the threat of extremely hot temperatures.  Luckily the clouds lingered enough to keep it in the 80s until ten minutes before my finish.

FINISH TIMES


1/3 mi. swim--9:26
T1--2:10
11 mi. bike--38:25
T2--1:04
5K run--29:06
TOTAL--1:20:09
6/17 in AG


With the bug returned and firmly planted, I decided this was not to be my last tri of the season.  Next up:  Waterloo Tri--pool swim!

Capital View Triathlon--6/10/12

I have several ways I mentally approach an upcoming race--usually it's "PR would be great", sometimes "Do better than last year", maybe even "Get through it" or "Don't fall down".  I allowed myself for this one to be sucked into a new and quite dangerous thought--"I have an outside chance of pulling off some AG hardware here."

It all started when I was shopping around for races this season.  Proximity to home and participant number prompted a closer look at Cap View.  I checked out the results from last year.  Hm.  Not a very big AG.  That bodes well for me.  I look closer.  Hey, I could pull off 2nd or 3rd place with my bike time.  My run time would fit around 4th place.  Swim?  Who knows.  But my transitions are okay.  And so it began.  I trained in earnest with the goal/miracle wish of getting in the Top Three.

We arrived that morning bright and early.  The girls wanted nothing more than to frolic.  Way too much energy for bright and early.

I took one look at Transition and started to adjust my goal.  With a T area this large, how on earth could I place in the Top 3?  There's a lot more people here than I thought.  *Sigh*

No matter.  The weather and my spirits were good as I prepped for what I imagined to be a fairly quick and perfectly lovely race.

The wetsuit doesn't fit as well as it did two years ago.

With my wave starting over an hour after transition closed, we had plenty of time for sunscreen all around.

Finally, time to get the party started.  The swim was a very shallow rectangle--dolphin dives all the way out and back.  I kept my standards low from not being in a pool (or a lake) in ten months.  Luckily it turned out to be a FOP (Front Of the Pack) swim finish.  More importantly I still know how to swim.

Onto the bike.  I had practiced to near perfection the shoeless mount and here was my chance to show it off.  My goodness, feet are much stickier when they're wet.  Slow start.

And wow...these hills are steeper than I thought.  I envisioned similar grades to the ones I practice on, maybe a bit steeper but also shorter.  "Yes" to the steeper, "Doesn't feel like it" to the shorter, and to top it all off a fair number of the downhills ended in a 90 degree turn on the road, thereby requiring brakes and losing the full effect of the downhill.  Frustrated.  The MPH average I was hoping for on the bike--the one I can pull off in training rides--didn't come.  Still FOP, barely.

Off to run.  The first half was compacted dirt trails with tiny but steep up- and downhills in (mostly) shade.  Tolerable.  Second half:  It's getting much warmer now, and the novelty of the trail has worn off.  All grass, glaring sun.  No. Way. I will pull off a run split to write home about.  Thankfully (but not in a heartless way) the others are suffering too.

In the end I'm in 6th place for the AG out of 20.  No hardware, but a good start to the season.  Next up:  WI Triterium.

Devil's Lake Triathlon--9/18/11

You wouldn't know it from reading here, but I've done Devil's Lake twice.  The first was in 2010, the Fall after the girls had arrived.  Training had dwindled to one or two short workouts per week and sleep was still in fits and starts.  But I'd signed up for it long ago and damned if I would DNS.  So we spent the night before with friends Nancy and Superstar Chris, whom I believe rolled out of bed that morning, registered for the race and finished in half the time.  Good thing he's a nice guy or I'd be really jealous.  

My abysmal performance in this race wasn't all my fault.  The course is a challenge.  That lake was super hilly.  Or so I tell everyone.

The reason there are no other triathletes in sight in this photo is because I am most likely dead last.

Onto the bike.  No kidding, this leg actually does kick one's ass.  I had prepared for this.  (And by "prepared", I mean mentally.  I mapped out the bike course online to view the grade of hills.  It's the closest I could get.)  But it wasn't enough.  Two or three times I did the unspeakable:  I dismounted and walked up parts of the hill.  The end result was a second-to-last-in-my-division bike time and an embarrassing MPH-average barely in double digits.  I think my athletic supporters had assumed I got lost out there.

The run was redeeming, but only slightly.  I maintained a pace I could live with, but unfortunately so did everyone else.  End result:  17th in my AG.  Out of nineteen.  But I finished, dammit.  I never got around to writing the post however; it fell by the wayside along with my training.

The next year I was back, ready to reclaim some pride.  I knew what to expect this time and was relieved that it was literally impossible to do worse than 2010.  We began the day with a contender for the website "Awkward Family Photos".

Is that me, with an actual smile and a wave as I dash to T1?

T1 time was lengthened to add a layer--it was a chilly drizzly day--but not enough to offset the bike ride nominated for Most Improved.  Not once did I dismount, already a bonus.  Better mental strength and more experienced strategy resulted in shaving a full 15 minutes off the bike split.

And this run meant more than just "do better than last year".  For a few years I've wanted to break 9' miles in a race and this run course provided the best opportunity to get it.  I gave it everything.  My face here shows it:

The run was nearly a 3 1/2 minute improvement and clocked in at 8:37 per mile.  

I'll take it.

I'm not planning on Devil's Lake in 2012.  I wouldn't want to push my luck.  I'll just let this one sit for a while and bask in the glory.

Camp Whitcomb Mason Triathlon--8/14/11

The First Year was a whirlwind, chaos.

The girls arrived and we spent most of our brain- and bodypower trying to figure out how to fill and feed bottles, bathe, diaper, play, put to bed (them and us), put to nap, keep children out of dishwashers, and teach how to sit, crawl, stand, talk, walk, climb, potty, dress, eat...it takes a lot.

We bought the house, the first house either of us had owned and operated since childhoods. We spent any spare brain- and bodypower learning how and taking care of the lawn, gutters, carpets, air conditioning, water softener, tub, cracked door, backyard playground, drains....the house is by no means a money pit but still, it takes a lot.

Needless to say, 2010's training and race performance faltered. A lot.

I'm not in The First Year anymore. The girls are delightful and grow more independent each day (well, each month at least). The house is under control. I had a sanctuary for the winter months and some good time this summer to get out and train. So when my lobster asked what I wanted for my birthday, there was no question--Camp Whitcomb-Mason triathlon.

CWM is a small race to begin with and for whatever reason was even smaller this year. We drove right in and parked immediately about 20 yards from T2 with half an hour before transitions closed. Unheard of. I set up, got marked and chipped, and awaited the start.









I had decided not to use a wetsuit for this one; the water temps didn't require it and the swim had been shortened to 1/4 mile, lessening any advantage it may have provided. Frankly, I remembered how difficult it was to put on in Pewaukee and didn't look forward to that embarrassment again. Not until the baby weight was gone.

Wave 4 (a tiny wave of maybe 20) departed 12 minutes after the start. I got into a great drafting groove and kept right on target with good sighting. My split after the swim was a bit slower than I expected, though; perhaps the wetsuit could've helped with buoyancy after all.

As long as I've known this race I'd had a mental block about the bike route. Oh my goodness those hills. Just get through it. Try not to die.

Not this time. I had the opportunity a couple of weeks prior to bike the route and you know what? They weren't that bad. I even broke 17 MPH average on the training ride. I went into this bike with a smile on my face, feeling confident that I could do this.

And I did. 22 miles, 4 major hills, 2 gels and one lost water bottle later I pulled into T2 proud of my sub-1:15:00 bike time. A quick shoe switch and I'm running out of transition to the faces of my smiling family jogging alongside for a few yards. I began this race hoping to break 2 hours for the first time ever and I was on par to do it.

Not much to say about the run. I was on a mission and I stuck with it. I ended up besting my previous CWM times by 14 minutes and 6 minutes.

Just the boost I needed. Onto Devil's Challenge.

Lake Mills (6/5/11) and Pewaukee (7/10/11) Triathlons

Last winter I built a sanctuary.

Now that both children were sleeping through the night I could retreat to the basement a few nights a week to pedal or run out the stressors of parenting, snow removal, idiot governors, what have you. And while the weight gain continued, I found myself building back a base long gone from a disappointing 2010 tri season.

So what will 2011 have to offer? The Devil's Challenge tradition in September was set in stone, but beyond that we were stymied by the newfound challenge of our two now-totally-mobile toddlers. Triathlons are the types of events where there's lots to look at but very little of it interests small children. This leaves them to entertain themselves by running out into bike traffic, throwing sand, or having a meltdown. Because races start at the ass-crack of dawn.

Not wishing the task of solo toddler management on my lobster, we decided it best for the time being to stick to relays; thankfully my good friends Ben and Liz were more than willing to comply. We excitedly agreed to relay Lake Mills first.

The night before a tri is a breeze when you're only doing the run. Lay out running outfit, watch, shoes, and number belt. Done.

That morning we pulled ourselves together, threw our diaper bag, snacks and wagon in the back, scooped up the sleeping children and took off. At the race I calmly discussed with Lydie what those people in black rubber eel outfits were doing in the middle of the lake while Ben set up his bike and accessories and Liz climbed into her own wetsuit.



During the swim I gave a kid a piggy back ride. During the bike I took one to the porta potty. I could get used to this relay thing. When Ben came back I was standing there in T2, vibrating with energy and ready for my turn. Bend over, rip off the timing chip, reapply to my ankle, take off. My run time was the second-fastest I've ever had in a race. (I guess it helps when you don't do the first two legs.) I longed a little for the whole experience, but cherished the relaxation and calm of this event. It was a stress-free entry to the next tri season.

Shortly after Lake Mills we three were itching to do another one. We settled on Pewaukee for its proximity to home, but Liz and I switched legs (of the race, not on our bodies) this time. This meant donning my wetsuit for the first time in months. After a gain in baby weight I can't even blame on pregnancy, it didn't go well.

This race had a first. I'd heard of people getting punched in the face, dunked, elbowed, etc. during the swim, but touch wood had never experienced more severe violence than incidental invasion of personal space. Not so this time. Twice in one minute and clearly by the same person I was grabbed in the ankle, and on the third time literally pulled backward. I was pissed. I doubt he heard me as a yelled back at him to knock it off (I considered but refrained from a kick to the face to get my point across), but the rest of the swim I seethed: What is the point of grabbing someone else's ankle and pulling them back? Does he honestly think it will give him the thrust he needs to make it the last 300 yards? A-hole.

On top of it, this race is not spectator-friendly. From our parking spot to the beach to the finish line we had trouble maneuvering the wagon; spectators blocked our little one's views with an air of entitlement; we even lost touch with the other 2/3 of the relay for a while. The playground near the finish line was a welcome site, for by this time both the girls and the lobsters were tired of wheeling them around Pewaukee in the wagon looking for a place we could be.




Lydie and I did manage to see Ben's bike finish and Liz's start, and it reminded me of how much I enjoy the triathlon experience--the whole experience. I know it made sense logistically to stick to relays this year, but damn did I miss doing the whole race.

As before it was fun spending time with Ben and Liz and much easier being together with the girls. We don't think we'll do Pewaukee again. But what's next?

Tri-ing for Children's--7/25/10

A sprint tri is usually over and done in less than two hours. The elites, first-timers, recreational athletes, age-groupers, and anywhere in between race together in sprints.

Not so for an olympic. It's twice as long. Only serious trained triathletes do these. It's what they do at the Olympics, for pete's sake!

(Or so I kept telling myself the times I honestly thought I was going to finish dead last.)

My plan was to tool along at a pace that wouldn't hurt myself and finish the race eventually. My lobster and the girls' grandma were on hand, swingset in sight, to entertain themselves--I could take as long as I needed. And I did.

The two-loop swim was the largest question mark. Though I'm a solid swimmer, I'd been in a pool only once since High Cliff, and this swim was nearly a mile. By the end of Loop One, I was by myself. No one in sight. Did everyone leave this solid swimmer in the dust? I know I've lost fitness but really? What the?

The two-loop bike had much-appreciated rolling hills and I kept a moderate pace. When I turned right to start the second loop....crickets. Alone. No one in sight. This was the first time I really wondered. "Am I last?!" I shouted to the volunteer at the corner. He assured me I was not but what did he know? Halfway through that second loop I glanced back to see another cyclist about 100 yards back. No consolation--she was probably a faster runner.

Remember, you're just doing this to finish. It's okay if you're slow.

The (again with the loops) two-loop run afforded an interesting opportunity to view exactly how many (if any) people were behind me as I closed in on halfway through the second loop. There was a handful--spread out, lumbering along like me, may or may not be in my age group. As I approached the finish I could hear the race director on the mike, no longer announcing the names of finishers but announcing the names of the winners for the awards ceremony. The transition area was being torn down, most of the bikes had already been removed. I finished with little fanfare, grabbed a water, and went to find my four biggest fans.

They had to wait a long long time, but they stuck with me.