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When I started my 2009 training year back in December of ’08, I thought how nice it would be to qualify for Clearwater one day. But it was not in my real, or even my stretch, race goals for this season. So it was to say the least a shocker to post a qualifying time at Oceanside (though I did not take the slot since I started with the Challenged Athletes wave and was thus ineligible). When I qualified at Lake Stevens, I felt like maybe I really did earn the entry. So before I could think it through much – as with many of my decisions – I took the slot and started planning the next 3 months out.
Training as always was a fight to make my desired hours and volumes, but me and Mr. Coach took a very simple approach and planned out the weeks on a routine that stayed race specific, accounted for my strengths and weaknesses, did not have me drilling incessantly, gave me solid rides wherever I could find a flat route, and enough running to keep me off the injury list. Or at least we thought; due to a recurring niggle in my knee I had to eighty-six many of the runs the final 2 to 3 weeks pre-race. The situation could be a confidence killer if you let it; my solution is to keep the mental game on as much as possible. That meant maintaining hopes of at least finishing the run, supplemented by appropriate knee care; and not stressing over an outcome I could no further control.
Moving ahead to race week…
Clearwater is all the way across the country from my CA home-base, but is an ideal location because not only does my mother live a few hours away and was finally able to witness a race live, but also I was able to stay with a mad bicyclist friend about for a few days before going to race central. At his place tools were borrowed, the bike went together, and I received a guided tour / riding workout. Very nice. On another note, my buddy has a backyard that slopes right down to a body of water, so I wandered out to test the temperature Wednesday afternoon. The official wiggle my fingers in the water test revealed a lovely swimming temperature, so I popped back in to ask if it was ok to do my swim in there. Oh no, was the stunned response, nobody swims back there, there’s alligators.
Moment of silence.
Recollection of dangling my hand into the water.
Why don’t people tell you these things in advance? I fully expect my friends to realize how blatantly dumb I can be.
Thus I re-routed myself to the ocean a couple of miles away, to the beach where the locals go. Lots of wind-surfing/boarding something-or-others out there, enjoying seriously windy conditions. Did I yet mention we were receiving the remnants form Hurricane Ida? Yep. Not only did I fly into a torrential downpour, the skies were cloudy and the winds, always a factor here, were decidedly prevalent. Well, it is what it is. Anyway, I found an area to swim where I would not get mowed down. It was hard to swim in these open waters when you have a recent alligator conversation at the top of your mind, but after inquiring and being told that the waters were absent of woman-eating monsters (though nobody brought up the stingrays), I got some good practice in some significant chop. Race-realistic? Maybe. Kind of fun? Definitely. Inexplicable? Only to my audience of gull-type white birds sitting out on a rock in the water.
Thursday arrives and I head over to Clearwater, check in to the hotel, lug everything up in three trips and go get my race packet. Hmm, everyone seems really fit here (I say this every single time). It is a pretty area but the weather remains overcast. Off to the Tampa airport to get the Mr., back to the hotel to meet Mother. Friday morning I do a quick swim in the hotel pool – a little short on length but the alternative was a choppy ocean, and the wet suit takes forever to dry here. A short bike to keep the legs awake, a pass on the run to save the knee, and I’m done. We fiddle to fine tune the seat and handlebar according to my numbers (Seems my pal and I were a little off when we re-assembled in his garage, I blame is mental block against using metric measurements instead of inches), and affix the nifty hard plastic race number to the bike. Nice keepsake from the race – regular sticker numbers disintegrate so near the ocean, I’m told.
This was my first race using a changing tent and transition gear bags, so I took extra care packing everything. I like the idea of not having to fall over myself and everyone’s bikes in transition. It may be hard to go back.
The host hotel where we stayed is right at the race site – you walk across a small parking lot and there you are. Can’t beat it. When I went down to bike/gear check-in, I was assigned a chaperone. Rack the bike here, memorize location, walk through changing tent, drop bags here. Simple, straightforward, and I am all done lickety-spilt.
Now all I have to do is rest and feed and relax. With everything taken care of that leaves plenty of opportunity for nerves to take the front position. So we distract me with driving the bike course. It is, uh, flat. Pretty boring to tell you the truth. No wonder this is such a fast course.
Race Day…
Not having to drive to the race in the morning saves you valuable time and makes life so easy. My usual pre-race cereal and stuff, wander down to see what is going on with the swim. The original ocean swim with wave starts has been changed due to Hurricane Ida’s playing with the area, we are now swimming in the harbor in a time trial start. I’m not sure how this works, so upon being zipped into my wet suit (I love this Blue Seventy Helix I purchased recently. The zipper goes top down to close which is great to not be suddenly unzipped in the water; but you need a valet to dress, especially as snug as this suit is) I just line up with my red-capped (capped, not caped. Hey, that would be cool, like super heroes! OK, I’m getting distracted again) group and followed along as we worked out way closer to the start. As it turns out, you just walk to the edge of the dock, sit down, slip into the water and start swimming. OH! I’m racing, like, now! Better get a move on!
The water temp was lovely, around 68, and as is custom when I race I instinctively switched from bi-lateral to single side breathing. My swim strategy was pretty basic, simply to stay calm, steady and strong, spot enough to stay on course and see how drafting would work out knowing I might have to span some gaps. At this point I am getting used to having swimmers around me and what the water feels like based on where they are and how quickly they are moving.
It was difficult to gauge my speed with the spread out time trial start, and circumstances made drafting challenging, but I popped about where I could to tag on at least for while. Definitely was swimming alone a few times despite not meaning to, and I am not sure if I drifted or the group did; I was pretty close to the buoys, so at least my spotting was on. Happy as always to reach halfway, then see the swim finish. My first wetsuit stripper experience: 100% positive. I spotted an opening, ran straight to her with a little ‘Help please” call out to get her attention, she grabbed my suit, pulled it off the remaining arm, I tossed myself to the ground as a second stripper appeared out of nowhere (this is beginning to sound rated-X), one leg each and I was off and running to my bag.
I am a believer in visualization, and had spent time the day before running through various aspects of the race, including both transitions. Off with the suit, run to bag (wave towards the sound of Mom cheering me on; that part hadn’t been visualized), grab bag, into tent, dress, run out, bike at 3rd row under street light, grab and go.
The bike was a drafting festival on wheels, for which this race is well-known. Packs would whiz by with some of the racers not even pedaling, events coupled with less frequent but equally disturbing passing on the right. I heard later they call this race Draftwater . As for me, I was gratified to see the payoff of my training into a 22 mph average. I was not gratified to find that you can, indeed, sit too far at the tip of the saddle, since I slammed!!! my knee into the aero bars more than once, and presently sport an enormous red mark on my knee that will rapidly take on a lovely black and blue hue. OUCH. Perhaps I shall wear a skirt to work and garner sympathy. Or not.
T2 in and out, and off to run.
My bike strategy included knowing that I might be okay to push a little harder than I might normally, since I knew my run was at risk due to injury. Had I been able to actually feel my legs as I took off on the run, I would have been able to better assess this strategy. Undeterred, I set out at what seemed to be a sustainable pace and kept my senses open to warnings from my knee. By the time I finished the first loop, I thought I stood a more than probable chance of finishing the full distance, but was also feeling some extra fatigue in the legs. Where oh where was the pep? The course takes you on a double loop, over the Causeway Bridge (I read 12% grade), through some residential areas and back over the bridge again to the turnaround/finish. So I decided that when I got to the Ironman Motivational board, about a mile plus out, I would really step it up. And what better way to do so than to find an unsuspecting rabbit? Up ahead in a black skin suit. Catch her, catch her, catch her (after all it is one more position to gain in the female field). I caught her, but I may have initiated the pass a little too soon, because I sensed her stepping it up behind me. Now what have I done? Had to make it stick, so just took off as fast as I could go. Probably maxed my heart rate. Those race photos at finish are not going to be pretty, no indeed-y! By the way who moved the finish line that far out??? In the end I got through in front and took a few seconds off with that last effort.
Not sure I’d do a return trip to Clearwater, the championship was a great experience though the flat course far from my favorite. I beat my target time and of course PR’d, so time to move on to the next goal. Whatever that is!
0:34:19 - Swim
0:03:34 - T1
2:32:26 - Bike
0:02:55 - T2
1:57:42 - Run
5:11:42 - Total
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