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Race Reports

Nov 14
0

Austin 70.3 and Curiosity

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You know how sometimes someone says something that you have always known without knowing it? They put into words what you have felt to be true but never really expressed. This has happened to me twice in the past month or so; both times regarding the topic of curiosity. Two athletes that I admire, both runners, mentioned something very nonchalantly about their motivation to compete. Both spoke with simple terms that conveyed a message my heart had always known. Both spoke of a deep curiosity–a deep yearning to know what might happen if ____. What might happen if I give my best? What might happen if I dare to lay it all on the line? What is possible for me? I am recognizing that at the root of my sporting endeavors is this same curiosity. I am curious about where my God-given limits are. I wonder what potential lies within me. I think that inquisitiveness can spur me on in all areas of my life. Some areas are just better at provoking my curiosity–and those areas are the ones that I will pursue with the most passion. Maybe I need a spark of curiosity regarding bathroom cleaning techniques…

In other news, I finished my last triathlon of the 2017 season at Austin, TX. Brice and I stayed with some good friends (Thanks, Lauren, Vincent, & Mona pup!). We had a nice sampling of Texas food (tacos, coffee, baked goods, Italian, and Tex Mex). We checked out Lance Armstrong’s bike shop/cafe, and swam in the Barton Springs pool. We even got to see our Aussie/Kiwi friends, Emma & Sean, who are currently living in Houston.

Here’s my recap of race day:

I woke up race morning and felt that with each piece of race preparation–the brushing of teeth, the eating of breakfast, the drinking of coffee, the putting on of socks– I was getting ready for battle. That feeling can be scary and intense. It can make you feel so alone. But then I remembered that I don’t have to feel that way because the Lord is with me in every moment. I don’t have to do any of it alone. He is with me (Psalm 118:6). He is for me (Romans 8:31). He is my helper, so I will not be afraid (Hebrews 13:6). Remembering these truths gave me so much relief. I can’t do it, but He can. All my confidence is in Him (Jeremiah 17:7).

Austin was uncharacteristically cold for the day- just under 40 degrees at the start. But, the water was warm (and just barely wetsuit legal), so the swim felt comfortable. I was able to get out quick and then settled into my own pace for the 1.9km. It was my fastest 70.3 swim split to date–win! The transition was fine. I still felt pretty warm and decided not to put on any extra clothing for the 56 mile ride, assuming I’d warm up and be fine. I was wrong.

I now know that low 40s is too cold to ride my bike for almost three hours in nothing but a wet bathing suit. I could not feel my legs or hands. When I picked up my snacks/bottles I did so very slowly and carefully because I couldn’t feel whether or not I was actually gripping them. My power meter worked for about 5 minutes of the race. I am not sure what went wrong–it was fine the day before the race, and it’s fine now. Hmm…so this combination of not feeling my legs, getting limited food/drink in my mouth, and having no power meter made for an interesting bike. Also, my chain fell off halfway up a hill so I put it back on and then walked my bike to the top. I remember thinking to myself that these moments when things aren’t going “our way” are so important; We can choose to give up, get negative about it, or we can trust that God is in control. We can give our best to Him and trust that He knows what we need. Even though I felt like my race was going downhill, I could have a little laugh about the situation and then do my best to move my legs and warm my body up. Once things thawed out, I felt strong again and was surprised to have a bike split not too far off my fastest 70.3 bike split–Hooray!

T2 was smooth and I was finally feeling warmed up. By the time I hit the run course I could even feel my feet! At the start of the run I was happy to see that my legs were moving faster than they felt, as had been the case at both of my previous 70.3 races this season. It wasn’t as hard as usual to settle down into my goal race pace (usually I start too fast and have to control myself for the first few miles). After about 3 miles, I knew I was drifting off of my pace and felt that I was slowing (it was hard to tell with the rolling hills on the course), so I ignored my watch and tried to go by feel. I even started mentally checking out and thinking about what I was going to say to my loved ones after my “bad race”. I had to remind myself that it wasn’t over yet and that I needed to stay present. The inner conversation went something like: “Don’t write yourself off yet! (10 points if you just started singing Jimmy Eat World) Just because you might not hit your “A” goal doesn’t mean you default to ‘just get it over with mode’. Stay in it! Focus on the opportunities still in front of you rather than what is behind you.”

Then, a male age grouper going the same pace as me ran with me for the middle 4-5 miles and was super encouraging–thank you, friend! At mile 9 I had to stop to use the porta potty for the first time in a triathlon, ever. After the stop, I felt great and starting speeding back up, only to slow back down for the last couple of miles. Those were probably the most mentally tough miles of the whole year for me–I felt so slow. Thankfully, I had Brice, Emma, and Sean to cheer me on and greet me at the finish.

Overall, I was happy to come away with a 70.3 PR. I don’t typically worry much about times since every course is different, and I don’t believe that times tel much of the story, but PRs are hard to come by so I celebrate that. Thanks to Coach Gareth for preparing me for the pain. Thanks to Metal Mountain Cycling for keeping me confident in my rocket ship. Thanks to Dr. Romeo for the top-notch treatment. Thanks to our Austin hosts, Lauren, Vincent & Mona, and to our “Juan in a Million” friends, Emma and Sean for making the trip out to Austin so we could see you. Finally, heaps of thanks to my handsome photographer-sherpa-husband, Brice <3

Sep 18
0

Ray Charles & Santa Cruz 70.3

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“Learning to read music in braille and play by ear helped me develop a damn good memory.” -Ray Charles

I admire Ray Charles as a man who chose to make the most of the hand of cards he was dealt. Growing up in an impoverished family, Charles contracted glaucoma which (untreated) left him blind at age 7. He witnessed the drowning death of his younger brother (prior to losing his sight) and lost his mother when he was just 15. A student of music at a state school for deaf and blind children, he grew up to become a legendary singer, songwriter, and composer. He is considered one of the pioneers of soul music.

While most of us will never know the same roadblocks which Ray faced in his life, I think that we can all learn from the way in which he chose to interpret obstacles–whether our obstacles are seemingly insignificant (e.g. “first world problems”, inconveniences, etc) or insurmountable (e.g. grief, loss, addiction, illness, etc). Ray Charles did not see obstacles (pun intended); he saw opportunities.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on this concept with regards to racing. In close proximity to race day, athletes tend to be extra aware of things–obstacles– that may hinder performance. When in this “high alert” mode, it is easy to allow a less-than-ideal situation or “sign” trip you up and cause you to doubt or descend into a spiral of negativity. This might include thoughts like “I didn’t have time to go to the grocery store to buy a banana for before the race. I always eat a banana pre-race, so now I can’t possibly race well!” or “I have been feeling really stiff and tired this week. I think I’m out of shape. This is going to be a bad race!”…

Something that has been helpful for me is to only look at the positive “signs”. I either ignore the negative ones (i.e. obstacles) entirely, or else turn them into something positive/helpful (i.e. opportunities). When race day is in sight, I have a very selective tunnel of vision/hearing/thinking. I filter out any little bugs that may pollute my positivity. If it appears that it might help me, I keep it. If it appears that it might not, I reconfigure it or toss it out. For example, if I find a heads-up penny on my run, I pick it up for “good luck”. If I find a heads-down nickel on my run, I decide that nickels are the new penny and heads-down is the new heads-up! When things are going as planned, I think “this is just what I need to have a great race!” If everything is going wrong, I think “I train when things are not ideal, so I can race when things are not ideal. Imperfect conditions are to my advantage.”

This filter is extremely biased towards positivity. Regardless of the situation, it works in my favor. I’ve found that this is the best approach to fend off doubt and fear heading into a race. Recently, at Santa Cruz 70.3, the swim course was cut very short and our start was delayed by about an hour due to heavy fog. I had already eaten my pre-race snack and consumed my electrolytes. I had timed it “perfectly” so that I would be well topped-off and hydrated for the race. Then, we were delayed and my snack/drink plan was derailed. I also felt well-prepared for the full swim distance and knew that it would probably be my strength of the 3 disciplines. While the negative thoughts tried to pry their way in, I chose to think “I will be fine. I am used to performing in imperfect situations. Everyone is in the same boat. I will give my best and see what happens.” Additionally, when I was on the bike  course being passed by every single woman in my division, I was tempted to panic and go harder than planned, but I chose to stay within my power range, thinking “It’s okay. Let them go. I will race my own race.” Then, I was able to feel strong on the run and gain back some lost ground–I even ran my half marathon PR. Not that the race was perfectly executed, but I’m improving!

Thanks, Dean, for finding this pic of me at the Santa Cruz 70.3 finish!

Continuing with the Ray Charles theme, I recently dug up some wise words of his:

“The notes are right underneath your fingers. All you gotta do is take the time to find the right note. That’s what life is, we all got notes underneath our fingers and we gotta take the time to find the right notes, to come up with our own music.”

Triathlon/sport is one of the things in my life that music was in Ray’s. I want to keep learning and improving– searching for the right notes. I want to find the notes to the song that God has put inside me. I want to express it fully and beautifully.

Aug 02
0

Update and Reflections

By | Race Reports, Triathlon | 4 Comments

Hey there!

Here are some updates from the last couple of months– race reflections and general observations.

So, Brice and I took a trip to Ottawa, Canada in June. The people we met there made our trip one of our favorites yet (and we have taken quite a few in our 3 years as a married couple). We were picked up from the airport by Jamie (the best volunteer ever), stayed with the most kind and generous host family, and even got invited into our host’s in-laws home for snacks and coffees (and a post-race shower…fyew). Our new friend Jamie loaned Brice a bike a to use for our stay, so we were able to use cycling as our main mode of transportation for exploring the city. The roads and paths were very bike-friendly!

During our 4 days in Ottawa, I got to compete in two draft-legal triathlons. It is always a plus when I get multiple race experiences in one trip, because all this travelling and time off can be costly. The first race was a “super sprint” semifinal, which took about 20 minutes to complete–three sports and two transitions in 20 minutes! This meant that the intensity was about as high as it gets in triathlon. It was painful. I got off to a great start, finishing the swim just at the leader’s feet, hung on to the back of the front bike pack (dreadfully fast ladies in my heat), and then ran as fast as my legs would go to cross the line 7th and qualify for the A Final the following day. It was a great opportunity for me to be in the A Final so that I could test myself in a strong field

Day 1 Swim Start

Day 1 Swim Exit

Day 1 Bike Finish

 Exploring Ottawa Post-Race

Checking out the locks

 

When we arrived at the race site for the final the following afternoon, it was warm and very humid. My pre-race anxiety began to get the better of me and I suddenly thought something that I sometimes think–even though I don’t want to think it–before races: “I don’t want to do this.” I had no motivation. But, I chose to do what I do often in training: kick in the autopilot and just “get on with it”. There are so many people on my team to whom I owe my best effort.

When the race starts, many of the jitters float away and I am left with the sound of my own breath, of water through my swim cap, and the sight of arms flailing, feet kicking, bodies splashing all around. The swim started out great, and I was near the front for a while. Shortly before the first turn buoy, I had a familiar feeling of doubt. Instead of being proactive and confidently swimming ahead, I started worrying about people catching me. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy. I quickly found myself near the back of the large pack, where I stayed for the remainder of the swim. Once you are toward the back, it is so much harder (it feels impossible) to overtake other swimmers and gain position again. It’s much easier to find a place at the front and stay there (as I had the day before). Exiting the water at the back of my swim pack, I struggled to catch the group ahead of me on the bike. I eventually joined a group with some riders behind me and stayed with them for the rest of the 20km. I was glad to be in a group, especially because it was blustery in some areas. I felt like I actually contributed to our group on the bike, which was a victory for me. On the run, I was able to find my pace and stick with it. I passed a few girls who seemed to have outdone themselves in the heat, and finished “in the mix”–another big victory.

 Day 2 (Final) Swim Start. Thanks to swim coaches Coach Mary and Steve for making me an “aggressive starter”

Day 2 Bike Course Turnaround- U-Turn into a big uphill. Ouch.

 Day 2 Run- Photo Credit: Stephen Maunder


After the race, Brice and I got to have Father’s Day dinner and gelato with our host family before heading home early the next morning. We made lots of good memories in Ottawa, and we hope to visit again sometime.

Next up was Des Moines, Iowa. The first and most important thing that happened was that we located a Trader Joe’s and R.E.I. very close to our hotel. Double Win! We ended up making several trips to the R.E.I. for some supplies and mechanical help with my bike :\

Once again, it was warm and humid out. The water was also warmer than it had been in Ottawa. One of my pet peeves is swimming in warm water. I am one of those people who ask the pool maintenance folks to please turn off the heaters! But, sometimes I have to suck it up. As the noon start time approached, I could feel the adrenaline building and calming myself down became my main objective. I got in the water for a “warm up” swim but found myself doing a lot of recovery stroke on my back because I needed to calm down and breathe. I trusted that my body would know what to do when the gun went off. I envisioned a happy dog running into the water and embraced the SwimRun rule of “dogging in”.

Thanks to USA Triathlon for the photo!

To my surprise, the heartbeat sound which is used in World Triathlon Series events was played prior to our start. Just in case I wasn’t anxious enough. At the sound of the gun, my body knew what to do. Thanks, body! I ran like an excited dog into the water and found myself at the front of the group going stroke to stroke with the eventual leader out of the water.

It was going great…until it wasn’t. Halfway through the swim, my fight or flight instinct ran out. I was now entering survival mode. I turned over onto my back a couple of times to catch my breath and as the majority of the field passed me I began to wonder whether I would be able to continue the race. I attempted to stand on the beach and wobbled my way up the sand, feeling like I had never stood on two feet before. I slowly regained composure as I made my way up the path to transition.

I was still a bit out-of-sorts in T-1, and threw my goggles on the ground. A  referee had to tell me twice to put my goggles in the bin (you get a penalty for leaving equipment outside your bin). I noticed that there were still a few others behind me and decided to take it easy until they caught me on the bike and then try to stay with them. I mounted my bike and pretty soon the girls behind me caught up. Around that time, I noticed that there were an awful lot of barriers and people wandering through the middle of the course, so I yelled at them to move! Then, I realized that we were no longer actually on the course. Thankfully, we found our way back after losing a couple of minutes to our detour. It wasn’t until later that night that I realized it was me who made the wrong turn and unfortunately for the ladies behind me, they followed me–so sorry!

The rest of the bike was okay. I began to feel strong again and was thankful to still be moving forward. Off the bike I locked into a comfortably hard pace and made it to the finish line in one piece, happy to be done but disappointed in my haphazard swim execution which had an unfortunate impact on the rest of my day.

That evening, Brice and I went out celebrate his birthday. He chose a zombie-themed burger and shake joint where we had a good time consuming large amounts of saturated fats and empty carbs.

The next few days were spent extracting some lessons from my less-than-ideal performance. I made a new friend on our flight who happened to be a psychotherapist. He helped me sort out my feelings about the race and even gave me some insight based on his own observations. He suggested that I might have placed a little too much weight on my performance, and on the triathlon part of my life in general. He mentioned a sort of “importance range” where our passions should be. A little too far to either side of that range, and we get off balance. We lose sight of who we really are and what our ultimate focus is. For me, that is being a child of God and following after Him wholeheartedly. My new friend and I shared this goal, and we talked at length about life– about how our passions, relationships, stuff, talents, etc can be such blessings* to ourselves and to others, but those same good things can become idols which distract and harm us. This conversation has stuck with me, and I have been asking myself more frequently what is really the greatest desire of my heart. Is it to be great at doing something (i.e. Triathlon)? To be liked by people? To be perceived as “good” or “nice” or “pretty” or “fit” or “strong” or “religious” or “successful” or “____”? If the answer is yes to one or more of these–which it often is–I need to redirect my gaze and put the “idol” in its rightful place: important, but not too important.

*About that word: blessing, I have been thinking about what it really means. It gets thrown around a lot lately, which is fine. But, I think we tend to look at a blessing as something like winning, or getting presents, or accomplishing a goal, or having things go our way, or not getting hurt, sick, etc…When I hear the word “blessing” it is a reminder to me that God can make everything work for our good, no matter how bad it seems (Rom. 8:28). He can make a blessing out of a curse (Deut. 23:5). So, whether I win or lose, it can be considered a “blessing” depending on how I look at it.

In other news: Brice and I gambled for the first time during our layover in Vegas. There goes $5 and all my race winnings (oh, wait…).

Up next for me: IRONMAN 70.3 Santa Cruz & Austin!

Food for thought: There will always be a reason why you can’t. There will probably be lots of them: You aren’t genetically gifted or talented. You don’t have money for fancy equipment. You have asthma. You have an abnormality that limits you. You started later in life. You aren’t strong enough. You have poor flexibility. You keep getting injured. You are busy. You are tired. Your friends don’t think you can…Instead of focusing on why you can’t, Find the reason(s) why you can. 

Apr 10
0

Oceanside 70.3

By | Race Reports, Triathlon | 2 Comments

First off, thanks God for a safe race with no med tent, no crashes, and no penalties! This was the first real positive long course race experience for me since my first 70.3 in 2010, and gave me the motivation to try it again sometime. Prior to this past weekend, my long course racing experience consisted of the following:

  • 2010 Lake Stevens 70.3: 5 hours even. Pretty solid race. Felt strong and “in the zone” the whole way. I felt I raced beyond where I “should have been” according to my preparation.
  • 2011 Wildflower Long Course: 5 hours, 40 minutes. Something went horribly wrong here. I raced okay on the swim and bike, and survived the brutal run course, but didn’t realize how deep of a hole I had dug myself into until I still couldn’t eat or drink (or move) an hour after the race. I was carried to the med tent and given 3L of IV fluid. I finally got up (with my mom’s help) and squeezed a few drops (they wouldn’t let me leave the medical tent until I could pee!). My mom helped me catch the shuttle back to our campsite, where I laid miserably nauseous and half-awake until the next day.
  • 2011 Long Course World Champs: DNF. I was determined to get it right this time. The swim was cancelled due to cool temps, so we started single file onto the cold bike course. I thought I had kept my pace conservative, but somewhere around mile 50 of the 74.5 mile course, I realized that something was off again. I think it must have had to do with my pacing. I was bonking. I stopped at an aid station to refuel and rest a bit, then rolled through the rest of the course while hundreds of athletes zipped by me. I took my time in transition, and decided to start the run course and see what happened. I was running very slowly just hoping that things were going to turn around. It was an 18-mile course with two loops of a double out-and-back, so I got to see my parents on the course a couple of times. Once I realized that things were not turning around, and that I would probably need to walk the majority of the course, I found my parents and told them that I did not want to finish. I didn’t want to end up sick and in the med tent again. I was very sad. This was my first DNF ever.
  • 2012 Wildflower Long Course: 6 hours, 11 minutes. I was SO determined to race smart and nail my  pacing/nutrition/hydration. I somehow did not do that. I finished the race but had to walk/shuffle a good deal of the run course to avoid the same health outcome as the year before.

…After 2012, I stepped away from long course racing to focus on gaining some lost speed and figuring out my body. I completed a graduate degree in nutrition, and soaked up as much knowledge and experience as I could with regard to training and sports nutrition. I sought help from my collegiate triathlon coach, Coach Gareth, and we embarked on a long journey of discovering my triathlon potential. We are still on this journey today, more than 4 years later.

I was a touch nervous going into Oceanside 70.3 knowing it had been 7 years since I had executed a solid race at this distance. I told myself that this was a brand new beginning. I tried to forget about all of the negative experiences and give myself a fresh start, a do-over. Here’s the lowdown on my race at 70.3 Oceanside, 2017:

Pre race: I felt strong and fresh leading into the race–thanks Coach G! I did a better job of keeping my mind calm and not getting too amped in the days leading up. I learned from my N’awlins experience that getting my adrenaline rushing for a few days straight up to the race is actually exhausting and leaves my nervous system drained for the race itself.

Brice and I traveled to O-side on Friday and got caught in some bad L.A. traffic…who’d have thought? I made it to the pro athlete briefing just in time. It was neat sitting next to Heather Jackson, Holly Lawrence, and the other really, really, ridiculously speedy people.

After the meeting, Brice and I ate at a cool brewery in San Marcos. They even had a “Triathelete” Pizza, so I obliged.

After dinner, we stopped at a Target *because Brice forgot his toothbrush*. This meant that I was *forced to pick up some Talenti cookie dough gelato for dessert*! Geez, Brice. Our final destination for the evening was at our Homestay in San Marcos. We were very fortunate to land an AMAZING homestay host family with beautiful, cozy, accommodations. They also had the best little wire fox terrier named “Chesty”. He was just as ferocious as a cute fluffy puppy can be, and equally sweet.

Race Morning:

I woke up and went down stairs, where Chesty greeted me with a fierce growl (until he realized who I was and again became adorably playful). I also had the fortune of hearing the family’s chinchilla chirping. I thought it was an alarm at first! Ha!

I went about my usual morning routine, made coffee with my handy Aeropress and ate a TJ’s Force Primeval Bar toasted with peanut butter and jam. Nom. I grabbed my bottles for the race, and we hit the road. We arrived to find that our parking spot was in a primo location. Score! Making my way into transition was a bit hectic. I wasn’t prepared for the hugeness of this race-3k+ athletes, plus volunteers and spectators– so many people!

After preparing my transition area, I headed to the “professional porta potties”. Holly Lawrence and Meredith Kessler were standing behind me for about 10 minutes during the wait, and I got to hear them talking about random stuff. It was comforting because they sounded like normal people. Even the best athletes in the world have to poop.

The Swim:

After the gun went off, my first thought was “I forgot to start my watch!” so I opted to wait and get my times starting with the bike leg.

Pretty soon into the swim I found myself swimming with Heather Jackson. I was happy to have someone to pace with. About 500 or so yards in, I didn’t see Heather anymore, but as I rounded the first left-turn buoy at the far end of the harbor I saw a line of girls at my feet. I kept my pace to the next turn, a sharp left back toward the swim start/exit ramp. This is where things got foggy (literally). I couldn’t see a thing because the sunrise was blinding me and I had cleverly decided on my clear, untinted, goggles. I had been warned about the sun coming up but shrugged it off, thinking it would be no big deal–wrong! I stopped abruptly (sorry, ladies behind me) to try and find out where I was. I sat in behind a couple of women (including Heather) and we arrived at the swim finish in just under 29 minutes. I felt like the swim had passed by pretty quickly, which is not my usual feeling–so that was good. I was ready to test my fitness on land.

Starting my watch. Thanks for the pics, June!

The Bike:

After a tour of the very long transition area, we cruised onto a bike path and eventually into the hills of Camp Pendleton. The course was one big loop. I like that because it doesn’t feel as monotonous as some of the multi-loop short course races. I was expecting some hills because I had heard about them from friends who’d race Oceanside in the past, but I was not expecting such a steep gradient on the first climb. Okay friends, I believe you now. This hill was not joking around. My focus on the course was to fuel and hydrate well and to keep my power output under control. I think I did a pretty good job with those things. I consumed a fig bar within the first mile, a nut butter-filled Clif bar around the halfway point, 2 bottles of Skratch, and a large Gatorade Endurance (course support). I think that my fueling/hydration plan worked out pretty well–it left me feeling focused and without stomach sloshing on the run.

Acknowledging Brice, who was chanting his usual “THAT’S MY WIFE!!!!”.

I don’t have much else to say about the bike course, except that I heard my friend Savannah cheering for me at least 3 times. She was also racing, and feeling really good apparently 😉 She ended up having an awesome debut 70.3 race and qualifying for 70.3 Worlds!! Woot!

In T2, I decided to spray on some sunscreen and put on socks (I don’t usually race in socks). I am glad I did those things, because I ended up with neither a sunburn nor the gnarly blisters I have had in past races. I did end up with one blister on the bottom of my foot, but it didn’t really start talking to me until the last 3 miles of the run– not too shabby.

The Run:

I felt really good at the start of the run. I came through the first mile in 6:18, but did not feel like I was running that fast. My plan had been to start out closer to 7:30 pace (assuming my legs would be feeling like Jell-O) and gradually cut that to sub-7:00 pace. My gut said “You should slow down. You feel good now, but you will pay for this later. You can’t maintain this for 13 miles.” But, the pace felt smooth–almost effortless– in the moment, and I wanted to see how long I could keep it up. I thought “but, what if I can maintain it? What if I am having a breakthrough run right now? I want to see what I can do!”

So, I held about 6:20-6:30 pace for around 3 miles. Then, I noticed that my legs were not moving quite so fast. I stopped looking at my watch. I didn’t want to let my slowing splits discourage me. I decided to focus on trying to run steady.

Around mile 6 or 7 is where I started to really need the coping mechanisms that I often rely on when things get tough: sipping Coke and splashing cold water in my face; singing up-beat songs in my head; meditating on my current favorite word: “Fearless”; focusing on keeping my shoulders relaxed, elbows pumping, and legs turning over; remembering all of the hard training sessions I’ve completed.

At mile 10-or-so is where I was questioning why I had run so fast at the beginning. Would I have felt so sore and awful if I had just paced it more evenly? My focus became increasingly narrow: Just get to the finish line!

Post-race Reflections:

  • It took a while for me to feel as strong and healthy as I had in 2010, but I chose to believe that it would happen…and it did!
  • Triathlon is one sport, not three. It is a game where you have so many pennies in your pocket at the starting line, and you have to figure out where to spend those pennies to put together your best possible race. Don’t spend them all too soon, or you else will end up overcooked too early in the game. Don’t arrive at the finish with leftover pennies or else you will have not raced your best race on the day. You want to spend your last penny right before/at the finish line, feeling like you gave everything you had and played a smart hand.
  • The challenge of long course racing is in finding your “sweet spot” where you can push just hard enough on the bike to have a fast bike split but not hard enough that you mess up your run too much. That’s where I see room for me to improve for future long course races. I would like to get a little closer to finding my limits while still erring on the side of going “too easy” on the bike.

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you:

  • To all of the friends and family who have encouraged me (at home and on the course): Brice, Mom & Dad, Tiff, the Olivers, Buenaventura Tri Squad, Lisa, John, June, Greg, Rebecca, Keith, Danny, Betsy, Steve, the list goes on.
  • To my brilliant coach, Gareth Thomas. As I’ve demonstrated in my prior attempts to coach myself through long course race preparations, even coaches need coaches. While I enjoy coaching other athletes, it’s nice to have someone else that I trust to look after my own training.
  • To my favorite chiropractor, Dr. Romeo. Thanks for helping me through all of the aches and damage that comes with training and racing. You’ve helped me to recovery quicker, train consistently, and show up ready to race.
  • To the best local bike shop, Metal Mountain Cycling, for taking care of my bike and keeping it looking tops.
  • To my VC Swim training buddies and coaches, Coach Josh and my M26 Tribe buddies, Skratch Labs, and Verve Cycling.
  • To the Ironman peeps who provided an awesome experience in Oceanside, and to the awesomest homestay hosts we could have asked for–the Hatalas.

Bonus Content:

Before this race, I considered buying another bulky bag to fit my spare tube and tire levers under my seat. But, rather than spend extra money for something to add weight and size to my bike, I decided to wrap some electrical tape around the items under my seat and call it good. Brice used his engineering skills to rig this up for me and keep the stuff from falling off my bike. It worked out great! I highly recommend it for anyone who is riding a road bike with limited storage space and/or wearing a kit that lacks pockets to stash stuff in. I think I’ll even keep this setup for my training rides so I can finally use my bento box (on the top tube of the frame) for snacks!

Brice’s super aero spare tube rig