Packing Up!

I'm getting ready to head down to Virginia Beach for the Sandman Sprint! A girlfriend and I signed up for this as the perfect end of summer beach weekend. It's enough of a goal to keep us moving, but not something so extensive to stress over. Also, where better to end a race then on the beach? (Typical Florida girl!) September is also the perfect time of year for such an excursion: the tourists have all gone home, fall responsibilities haven't gotten too out of hand (Labor Day wasn't THAT long ago), and the weather is cool enough for race day with enough sun for beach time. It's truly the best of both worlds!

Though I'm very happy with my running lately, I have to admit my biking and swimming have fallen short. This is just another testament to workout buddies. With the girls I run with, one of us will always pick a route and time and all I need to do is show up (which is expected). With the swim and bike, I have to either find a partner for each outing, plan a workout, and/or get down to the gym for a class. Not that any of these options are tremendously difficult, just rather that they are up to me to execute. This will be an experiment to see just how much muscle memory can come into play come race day.

One last minute note included in a recent email that gave me pause:
"We know that Hurricane Igor is out in the Atlantic.  The current weather forecast is for sunny skies and a high temperature of 80 degrees.  The storm has the potential to cause rough surf.  No determination concerning altering or canceling the swim will be made until race morning." Yea... we'll have to wait and see how that goes.

Time to review my check list, pack up the car, and get ready for the fun weekend ahead!

A Hairy Issue

So it might not be the first thing you think about when considering a triathlon, but as a women with a significant head of hair, I had no idea what I was supposed to do with it to keep it out of my way for the three stages of the race. Separately, the three sports did not pose a styling issue. For swimming my hair is always in a tight bun under my cap, for biking a low pony tail or knot to accommodate my helmet and for running in a tight pony tail. But how do I get it from high bun to low knot while in a quick transition dealing with a wet mop of hair? The last thing I want to worry about during a transition is doing my hair. So how can I secure it in a way that fits under both a swim cap, a bike helmet, but is also off my neck for the run? Umm... Mom?!

Luckily for me my Mom was in town to support my first tri and when we were kids it didn't matter if we were traveling the world or going to the beach, her go-to safety hair style for us was pigtail french braids. They looked cute, held on during our manic play dates, and prevented tangles. Perfection!

You can also see here that even at the end of the tri, my huge amount of layered hair was up, out of my way and not looking half bad!

**WARNING: DO NOT FORGET TO PUT SUNSCREEN ON YOUR PART!**

Race Day: The Finish Line

I completed my first triathlon in 3 hours and 14 minutes!

Immediately after crossing the finish line you walk through a barrage of volunteers: there are the photographers, someone's giving you a medal, another handing you a bottle of water and cold towel while yet another is fishing around your ankle to remove your time chip. All in all, considering what you just went through it can be a tad over whelming. Plus there is your family and friends screaming for you at the end of it all.
The first person to meet me was my mother followed by the rest of my family and friends. After expressing how proud she was the second thing she said in an appropriately worried Mom tone was "What do you need?"

"I need to get these shoes off!" My feet felt as if I had taken up walking on coals. We walked to the tree lined curb, where I sat down and ripped of my sneakers and replaced them with a pair of Reefs. I sat there for a minute or two, catching my breath, drinking my water, and enjoying the shade. I could literally feel my body do a little crash and reboot.
Then it dawned on me that my best friend/race partner was just behind me. So with a sudden surge of energy from who knows where, I jumped up and joined the crowd at the finish line. A couple minutes later, there he was and from that moment on, the rest of our day consisted of celebration.
*The pictures in this post are of my actual race and me (#2589)

Race Day: The Run

I knew coming into this adventure that running would be my Achilles heel. Not only have I never been a strong runner, but I've never enjoyed running. This was an area I really surprised myself in the process of training. Did I fall in love with running? No. But I realized I could do it. Back in February when our coaches said we'd start with 4 miles, I though I was going to die. Then only 3 months later I was running 7.5 mi with the girls no problem.

Also, transitioning between swim and bike was simple. Transitioning between bike and run on the other hand... your body goes through the awkward phase where you don't feel quite in control of you appendages.

When I pulled into the transition area on my bike, it was pretty easy to switch shoes, throw on my bib and just take off again. And as I mentioned in my last post, my endorphins were flowing which helped push through that initial "dear God, who took my legs and replaced them with gummy worms" feeling.
No matter the training, the first half mile of the run will always take some getting used to. The key for me was to just not think about it. As the saying goes, "just put one foot in front of the other" and everything will slowly work itself out. Once you begin to feel normal again you can focus more on picking up your speed, but being cautious that not only do you need to pace for 6.2 miles, but 6.2 miles after completing two thirds of a tri.
At this point I was still on my high and feeling good. My body felt good, my mind felt amazing, and I was surrounded by my Y-Tri team and our family and friends who cheered us all on. It wasn't until just after the 3 mi mark that I started to feel it. It was high 90's that day with a heat advisory and we were running on major city roads with no shade and an awful lot of concrete. Suddenly each step took effort, each water station was that much further away and at that point I was running in a section of closed off freeway so there were no supporters along the roadside to help boost our energy.

In the last transition I had half heartily stuffed a Cliff Shot (Gel) in my back pocket, mainly because everyone kept saying it was necessary. Up until now I had yet to use anything like that and really didn't think I would need to. But there at mile four, when my once feather light legs felt like anvils, I figured it couldn't hurt to try. So as I was coming up to the water station, I gulped it down. I didn't really know what to expect... Was this the equivalent to Popeye and a can of spinach? I trudged along with only the cheers of my teammates as fuel and then I slowly felt the my energy renewing. Did I feel like I could sprint the next mile? No. But I felt like I could keep going, which at that point was as close to a miracle as I was going to get. This pick me up only lasted about another mile but it dropped me off right where my family was waiting for me and seeing them and how excited and proud of me they were was exactly what I needed.
Then came mile 6... my nemesis in this event. The gel energy was gone, the cheering subsided, and in front of me was Capital Hill. Dear God who's idea was that? I looked at it and for the first time in the entire race, considered the possibility I might not finish. "Screw it!" I thought... "I'm walking this hill..." and just as that thought was going through my mind I heard her. Screaming like a banshee half way up the hill at the water station was Trish... my "Yoda" running coach. From the very beginning of training, Trish had singled out my hatred for hills. So every time we did hill repeats or hill strength training, she would find me and push me through while telling me why hills are so great and that I should approach them with love not hate. How appropriate, here was the ONE person I couldn't bare see me walk up this hill. So I continued on. Even in the midst of this exhaustion, you could not help but perk up and smile at Trish's ridiculous enthusiasm. She made it sound as if I were in first place crossing the finish line.

Once past the station I had the top third, most steep and unshaded section of the hill to complete. The soles of me feet felt like they were boiling and bubbling from the intense heat. For the first time in the entire run, I allowed myself to walk. Taylor, one of our swimming coaches, appeared on the side lines and she started to walk with me as she asked how I was. I just looked at her and could tell from her expression that my face must be conveying EXACTLY how I felt.

Once at the top, I began to run again. Pulling up next to me was one of my teammates who I used to pace with during many of our morning runs. We fell into stride. Every couple minutes one of us would find the energy to say something motivating while the other grunted in agreement. The finish line was finally in front of us, and my friend looked at me and said "Let's sprint this out!" and we did.
I finished my first triathlon in 3 hours and 14 minutes!

*The pictures in this post are of my actual race and me (#2589)

Race Day: The Swim

The rule, when it comes to wetsuits, is that they are allowed as long as the water is 78deg or cooler. If it's warmer and you choose to still race with your wetsuit, you are not eligible for placement and in some races, including mine, you have to wait for the last wave of the day. Since the water was well over 78deg on my race day I decided to go sans suit. I knew I was not going to come anywhere close to placing, but the idea of starting any later (I already had to wait around for almost 2 hours) was not appealing.It was nerve racking to think that I was about to jump in the river in a tri uniform I had only received 4 days prior and never experimented swimming in. Walking down to the water in my wave seemed more like I was walking the plank. They had installed a floating dock that stretch out into the river. Once the wave before you had started you walked down the dock and jumped in the water. There you and the rest of your wave, tread water for almost 2 minutes waiting for your start.
As corny as it sounds, you could cut the tension with a knife. Suddenly the ever chattering girls had all become silent. All I could think was "Why did I get myself into this? Why is this so important? And how can I get myself out of it?" It seemed like such a bright idea 6 months ago. It was that way for about a minute until we all started to cheer ourselves on... good lucks and whistles flew through the air. Then the horn sounded.
Though it was a mess, it was not as scary as stories had made it seem. I did not get a foot to the face, and no one attempted to swim over or under me. Once we reached the 100 meter mark we all had pretty much sorted out our own space and seemed to finally get into the flow. That was until the wave behind us began. This is a complaint I have about how this race was organized: who's idea was it to put the 25-29 guy's wave right behind the 25-29 women's wave? They set us up to become a human speed bump! I finally felt like I was getting into my rhythm when a wall of neon green swim caps came hauling over us. These are the guys you hear the stories about. Though a bit more unnerving then the start of the race, I still survived sans black eyes or near death drowning incident.
I was having a hard time though. I just could not calm down and get comfortable in my stroke. I felt like I needed to breath every full stroke and had to break my glide to look up and double check I was still on course with the buoy. It wasn't until the 700 m buoy (almost half way) that I truly felt like I fell into my rhythm. Though it was frustrating that it took so long, once I found it, I felt like I was flying. Before I knew it I was at the end and clambering out of the river.
I found it hilarious that on the short run back to the transition area they had us run through a hazmat rinsing station... like that was going to protect me from the crap in the Potomac I had just submerged in for a mile.

*The pictures in this post are of my actual race and me (#2589)

Race Day: Before it Even Started

At 3:50am I'm waiting by the garage in Adams Morgan for my ride down to set up my transition area. As I imagined, while I stood there in my tri uniform, gym bag in hand, all the partiers who still thought it was Friday night, were slowly making their way home after a night of drinking on the strip... such a juxtaposition.

I was lucky enough to secure a ride down with my coach. I'm not sure how you were supposed to get down to transition without inconveniencing a non racer. It's an issue I had with how the race was set up. Transition was not metro accessible (plus metro was closed), my bike was already racked, and the parking was minimal and quick to disappear. My back up plan was to order a cab. You really don't want to take any risks with your timing.

The scene at West Potomac Park was that of a sleepy army armored in spandex bustling to prepare for battle. Once we got down there I set up my transition blanket. We had about 30 minutes before the area closed. I also needed to pump up my tires. Since it was so hot the day before when we racked our bikes we all deflated our tires since the heat could expand the air in them and blow them out. We also needed to get body marked (numbers & age written on our arm & leg), and pick up our time chip.

My Transition Area:

• Bike

Helmet hanging on the handle bars w/ Sunglasses & Watch placed inside
2 Bottles of liquid: 1 Water 1 Gatorade
Fuel Taped to Handle Bars: 1 Clif Bar, 1 Energy Beans

• Bike Shoes w/ Socks unraveled and placed over each shoe
• Small hand towel to wipe of my wet and grass covered feet
  
• Running Shoes w/ laces untied and loosened
  
• Spray sunscreen for easy reapplication (did I mention we had a heat warning that day?)
• Bib number already attached to my race belt

The transition area closed at 5:15am, after which you cannot drop off or pick up anything in your area until after your swim. This means I was barefoot holding onto my goggles and cap with a disposable bottle of Gatorade and a banana. We had almost 2 hours to wait since my wave wasn't until 6:55am. So what do you do to pass the nervous time? Well first you get into the port-a-john line... with EVERYONE else. It took us a little less than 30 minutes to get through. It was a bit awkward standing for the National Anthem in a bathroom line, but at least I was there with most everyone else.

Next we decided to head down to the waters edge and see how the Sprint swimmers were doing. It was not motivating to see how many needed to grasp onto a kayak after only 100 meters. Watching them struggle through half the distance I was going to tackle made me slightly queasy and we decided to head back up to zen out with the rest of our team. This was the best part, being surrounded by people you've been training with for 6 months, people who are in the same anxious position you are in. We all seemed to have equal shares of dread and excitement... though that seemed to sway a bit the closer we got to starting.

Then it was finally time. We each got into our appropriate corrals, not that different from cattle and slapped on our caps and goggles. It suddenly got pretty quiet as we each prepared ourselves for the hours to come...

Checking that list...

It's the night before my race. So far so good. I went down to the expo today and picked up my packet with the plethora of numbers I have to post all over myself and my equipment, took my mug shot (below), and headed down to the transition area to rack my bike. Took a quick peak at the swim course, just long enough to get butterflies in my stomach, and then headed home. It was amazing to have my best friend with me (who's also racing) to freak out with. We got it all off our chests and then promised to zen out, or at least try, for the rest of the day.

I've gone over my check list (below) several times, gone through how the race and transitions will go in my head, packed my bag, set up my breakfast and meet-up spots with my friends and family who will be cheering me on, etc. I'm lucky enough to live across the street from the head of our training program, so I have a ride down at 4am tomorrow morning with someone who can comfort my last minute anxieties. I think I can confidently say I'm ready. I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to get a good nights sleep when I have a 3am wake up call, but that's what last night was for...
RACE DAY CHECKLIST

Transition
- Triathlon bag (to bring stuff in & store a change of clothes for after race)
-Towel (spread on ground and layout gear for bike and run)
- Sunscreen (apply before race begins)
- Shorts, t-shirt, dry socks, flip-flops or sneakers for post-race change
- Post-race recovery drink and/or nutrition

Swim
- Swim suit or Triathlon race suit
- Cap
- Swim goggles (think about bringing an extra pair for backup)
- Wetsuit
- Anti-chafe stuff (for use around neck of wetsuit, and other places)

Bike
- Bicycle (with race # on it) (remember to check tire pressure)
- Helmet (with race number stuck to it, if required)
- Cycling shoes
- Socks
- Cycling pants and top (if not wearing a Triathlon race suit)
- Sunglasses
- Bike gloves (recommend not using as changing slows you down).
- Sports drink (2 bottles – on bike)
- Nutrition bars (taped to bike, in bento box, or in back pocket of jersey)
- Gels (Goo or other type of gel)
- Spare inner tube (or tubes) and CO2 Cartridge (on bike)

Run
- Running shoes
- Hat
- Race number (on race belt – otherwise make sure it is pinned to your jersey before race starts & think about bringing a bunch of extra safety pins, just in case).

Taper (and other race week tips)

Some thoughts on TAPER (from Mark Fitzgerald):

"The period of relative rest that precedes a race is called a taper. A well-executed taper increases your blood volume, maximizes carbohydrate fuel storage, increases aerobic enzymes, and enhances tissue repair, thereby rendering you better prepared for a peak performance.

"For short races, your taper period can last four days to a week. For somewhat longer events, a week to two weeks of tapering is typical when a peak performance is sought. For long-distance events, the taper can last two or three weeks.

Reduce your training volume by 30 to 40 percent per week of tapering. For example, if you're tapering two weeks for a peak half-Ironman triathlon and you did 20 hours of training in the last heavy week before the taper, you might do about 13 hours of training in the first week of tapering and about 8 hours in the final seven days before the race."

My three thoughts on tapering:

1. You've trained -- no amount of training you will add this last week will improve your performance;

2. Don't do a "drop dead taper" -- using this as an excuse to stop training altogether -- you want to grade your taper (gradually reduce training intensity and length) to zero by the day before;

3. Get plenty of rest (sleep) on race week…and hydrate well (small amounts of fluid regularly throughout the day) -- these two things are probably worth as much as any training you will do during this week.

Basically, if you have been eating reasonably well, there is no need to do anything different the week before the race. Two nights before the race, get a well-balanced meal (protein, plenty of vegetables and fruit, complex (low-glycemic index) carbohydrates) – this will create the stored energy you will need for the race. Get to bed early.

The night before, eat early and eat light – you want this meal to get through your system before the race starts – you don’t need something heavy sitting in your stomach all night while you are trying to sleep. Make sure you get breakfast in the morning before the race.

The Course

Click HERE to learn more about the DC Tri

Permission to Freak Out!

Today was my last training day with my Y-Tri team before the race... in two days. I'd be lying if I said there were not fleeting minutes of panic that enter my head on an hourly basis. But the reassuring thought is that just as often I get really excited for this day to have finally come. On top of the fact that I don't think I could keep up this pace much longer, I'm so excited to accomplish this huge goal I set out to achieve 6 months ago.

Looking back, everything is in a healthier perspective. When I started this project I was a heart broken girl tediously trudging through masters application after application with no clue where I'd be or what I'd be doing 6 months down the road. I signed up with two great friends to start training for this race that seemed impossible, but so far away, and such a great distraction that I just jumped in head first. Starting off from couch potato status did not make the beginning any easier, but definitely made the pay off that much greater.

Today, I am getting ready to run an Olympic Triathlon in our nation's capital. I have been accepted and enrolled in one of my top picks for Masters programs which I'm starting come Sept 1st. I'm taking a month off before said start date to check off another New Year's resolution: Travel. My sister and I are going to Turkey! And I've never felt more confident in who I am or what I'm doing in my entire life.

Have I done enough? Will I finish? Well I guess we'll find out. But I know that I've done everything I could to prepare myself and I am really proud of that fact alone. I have trained for 18 weeks, and have not quit... even when I REALLY wanted to.

Race or no race, finish line or no finish line, through this process I have made new friends, set new goals and found out what I am really made of.

Beginning to Taper

(Photo: Actually me!)

With less than a week to go, we are FINALLY tapering. Tapering basically means slowing down the training so you're body is well rested and good to go come race day. Now this does not mean stop working out and training all together. That would actually be a detriment to your goals. What you want to do is complete your usual workouts, but with much less gusto. I'll be learning as I go so whatever hints the coaches hand out I'll make sure to reiterate here.

Saturday we completed our final brick, but since it was a week before our race, instead of doing the 25 mi bike and 6 mi run, we cut it back to a 15 mi bike and 3 mi run. What we wanted to get out of this was training our bodies for the physical transition from biking to running. You feel like you must look like your running with flippers on or something. It takes me a good mile to feel like I'm actually running, versus just flailing around with no control of my extremities.

With 5 days to go I'm bouncing between calm & cool versus totally freaking out. It will almost be a relief for race day to finally be here. Have I done enough? We'll find out.