Triathlon notes

[moominmolly]

Race: Started 45+ minutes late because the portajohns were not delivered on time. Other than that, it was a lovely little race and it was clear that half the town had come out for it. The sidelines of the bike and run course had tons of people cheering on the racers -- some every 20-30 yards for most of the distance. I had a good enough time that I will probably do the race again next year.

Swim: I met my rather modest swim goal (30 minutes for half a mile, since that isn't far off from the minimum necessary pace to finish an Ironman-distance swim). This put me among the slower swimmers in my start wave, but I don't feel bad, since I've been swimming twice in the past two years. I was in wave 3 out of 5 -- my wave was "women over 40 and Athenas". An "Athena" is a female competitor who weighs over 150#, which, I will note, I do even when I'm in peak physical condition. But whatever. I was glad I bought goggles at the last minute from the Tyr booth.

Open water swim starts are kind of terrifying! I'm very glad I'm confident in the water, since the feeling of having people literally swim over top of me without stopping is alarming. That seems to be the way it goes, though. Before long, I flipped over and finished the course in a backstroke since the people running in to me were pissing me off, and being pissed off wasn't helpful. Anyway, the water was warm, and the course was decent.

Transition #1: I ran over the timing mat and up to the bike area. I suddenly understood why people had little towels and even tiny bins of water in their transition areas, since even with the foot bath they had us run through, my feet were dirty. I put on my socks and bike shoes, then my gloves and helmet, downed a packet of Gu, and took off on the bike leg. I'm sure I took WAY too long in this area; I am pretty sure that all-velcro bike shoes would be a huge improvement, and I am definitely bringing a little towel, next time. I wonder if you can bike in no socks?

Bike: It was a 10-mile bike course. I passed more people than passed me, but not by a lot. I was saving myself for the run, since that was the part I was scared of. It wasn't a cinch, though -- the course had rolling hills, and a couple of the uphills had me cranking in my lowest gear for a while. I still have a long way to go before I'm even half-decent at climbs. On the other hand, my superior momentum combined with a congenital lack of caution allow me to crush smaller women on downhills. It was a nice bike course on a lovely day, and their cautions about the crappy pavement turned out to be unfounded.

Oh! Also, I rode my Softride bike. For a bike with bar-end shifters that I got secondhand for a few hundred bucks six years ago, it certainly gets a lot of compliments at a triathlon. AND, I did find that the beam saved my legs somewhat; it was actually pretty easy to go right to running.

Transition #2: Much simpler: hang the handlebars back over the metal post, pop off my bike shoes and strip off my gloves, and put on my running shoes. Then, however, I had to pin my race number to my chest. I noticed that other people had already pinned their run number to tank tops that they just slipped on. I might try this. Back out of the transition area and over the mat to start the run. This means that when I get my leg times, they will be [swim leg], [transition #1, bike leg, transition #2], and [run leg]. Interesting.

Run: "Part of the run is on a trail", they said. "The course runs slow." I didn't think much of this, especially after their warnings about the pavement didn't pan out. But in reality, nearly HALF of the run course was on a trail. A good portion of that was through the woods, over dirt and roots and rocks. It was gorgeous and fun, and a perfect day out for it. Unfortunately, the morning's torrential rains had made the path a river of mud, especially when 350 people had already 'run' the course before me. My shoes are now brown and muddy, and at one point, I even lost my left shoe to the mud and didn't figure out what was going on until I felt my foot plop down. Ah well -- retrace my step, extract the shoe, slip it on, and laugh, as there's nothing else to do. After the muddy part (I now feel as if I made it to Firefly this year), the trail took a steep turn up, and became a half-mile mountain climb. Again, lovely, but not really "runnable", for me. At the top of the hill, we came out onto a paved road and ran downhill to the finish line.

Is it "magical thinking", when you say to yourself, "okay, okay, if I can just keep running to the top of this hill then surely I will get [completely unrelated great thing] once I cross the finish line"? Whatever it is, I absolutely engage in it. And no, I'm not telling you what my imaginary reward is.

Overall: what a great day! My run time was probably abysmal, but I did run the nearly 2 miles that were paved. And everybody on the sidelines shouting "nice job! go #273!" really brightened my spirits. The one woman walking her dog who stopped and looked at me and then yelled, "YOU ARE AN INSPIRATION!" made me grin like a crazy woman. After the race, I got a kiwi from the national kiwifruit council stand or whatever, packed up my bags, skipped the Rotary club barbecue and free massage (!), and headed back to the car, feeling good. I had one perfect ripe peach waiting for me there, which I had been looking forward to for the last mile or so of the race. Under the windshield was a flyer for two triathlons in the area on August 13th -- one is a 1/4 mile swim, 10 mile bike, and 2.5 mile run, and the other is a 1 mile swim, 20 mile bike, and a six mile run. I might just try one of those. Haven't decided which one, yet. Anyway, once I'd loaded my gear back onto the car and started off, I rolled down the window, broke out the napkins, and polished off my peach. Just lovely.

Comments

[ivorjawa.livejournal.com]

Awesome. Awesome. Awesome.

I'm totally envious!

[bemocked.livejournal.com]

yeah for a fun race! you go girl!

you have a Softride with bar end shifters... that is so incongruous, it's great! Most races I have seen (with timer mats at all) have the mats at entrance and exit to transitions, so you get split and transition times completely separately (and sometimes have door prizes for fastest transitions).

They actually make tri-specific bike shoes that are made to be worn barefoot (no tonge to get mushed up when a wet foot is stuffed in, seamless neoprene liner so no skin rubbing, etc) and have straps that open away from the drivetrain so you can get into them as you start riding with the shoes already waiting for you on your pedals, and not get tangled up in process. I have friends who have em (not me), I have never even messed with the shoes pre-clipped into the pedals thing - I just sit and put on my socks and change shoes. I am not competitive in any way and that little sitting to put on shoes breather always helps me a lot.

[signsoflife.livejournal.com]

Oh, neat! Thank you for the info on the tri shoes.

[moominmolly.livejournal.com]

I think it was the very last bar-end-shifter Softride that was made, in '99 or so -- as in, it was the only non-STI shifter model they made that year, and the next year it was gone. :)

I don't know about leaving the shoes clipped on to the pedals! That seems like it would take me longer than sitting down and velcroing them, actually. Crazy!

[amber-phoenix.livejournal.com]

yay!!!!

[bemocked.livejournal.com]

olympic distance triathalon = 1.5k/40k/10k

that second one you mentioned is kinda olympic distance with an extra long bike ride

[ukelele.livejournal.com]

I don't know if it's magical thinking, but I've surely thought things along those lines, albeit less unrelated. "If I can just get around this curve on Mt. Wachusett, I will [see that great view again/get to the top/not die]." Or whatever. But there does seem to be a point at which -- as long as you can keep brainwashing yourself to meet intermediate goals -- the ridiculous awfulness of the long-term goal can be put out of mind.

Man, I wish triathlons didn't involve swimming. I might actually be convinced to try one in that case ;). But ukeleles don't swim.

[chenoameg.livejournal.com]

I seem to recall wonderful conversations with you in Walden. Do you just hover in water, then?

[ukelele.livejournal.com]

Yup!

I *like* water. I just don't *swim* in it.

[gwendally.livejournal.com]

Yay you! Isn't it fun? My first one of the season is in two weeks.

A race belt is a cheap way to get your race number on in T2. The number attaches to the belt ahead of time and you just grab the belt and snap it on as you run.

I've done two triathlons and worked one (in the transition area) and I think T2 is the hardest one because you're so oxygen-deprived-dumb at that moment. I see people running out with helmets on, without race numbers, and going out the bike entrance. (Run exit is usually someplace different, but human nature is to go out the door you came in.)

I'm ghastly slow in T1, too. I've got a wetsuit that requires an act of God to remove (yes, I use Glide) and I can never make myself pee in the water and always feel that I have to pee in T1, probably because of the wet padding on my crotch. Can't help it, though, off to the porto-potty I go. I practically have time to order out for chinese food during my T1.

[dot_fennel]

I had no idea races used courses that could turn into giant mud puddles. It does sound like you went to Firefly!

You are great.

[sconstant.livejournal.com]

SUPERMOLLY. You are an inspiration to even non-strangers, you know.

But where were your trusty sidekicks? Taking care of evildoing somewhere else, I imagine.

[moominmolly.livejournal.com]

Indeed! Their plans to join me were thwarted by the horrible rains in the morning (and by the fact that the wee little sidekick had gone to bed late and then woken up every hour all night). dilletante gallantly loaded the bike on to the car, sent me supportive text messages, and unloaded the car when I got home and flopped into a little puddle.

[sconstant.livejournal.com]

I went for a "run" (lots of interspersed walking intervals) this morning for the first time since my first trimester with Little S. See? Even non-strangers.

[moominmolly.livejournal.com]

Wow! Yay. Go you! And yay.

[aroraborealis.livejournal.com]

You told me about this tonight, but, really, reading this was exciting. I wasn't there, but, still, I laughed at you losing your shoe, and I got excited at the people cheering you on. That's fantastic. Yay!

Also, unrelatedly, thanks for being my date. That totally made the evening :)

[moominmolly.livejournal.com]

It WAS exciting! Oh, gosh, races are very exciting. Much more exciting than just running, or whatever. Spectators are awesome!

Also, it was great to see you!

[fanw.livejournal.com]

Yay Moomin!! I might just be convinced to do the mini tri comin' up. If I can make it, it will make me that much more psyched about the Boston Tri!

[moominmolly.livejournal.com]

Do it do it do it! :)

[signsoflife.livejournal.com]

I am so, so happy for you.

[dancingwolfgrrl.livejournal.com]

I told you this already, but you are totally awesome.
Also, now I want to see if I've appeased my body sufficiently for it to allow me to run again... :)

[chenoameg.livejournal.com]

Yay! That's so great!