Toughman Half Ironman Race Report

A friend pointed out to me today that I always seem to have some kind of funny or weird story about every race I do. This is definitely true for the Toughman half ironman I did on Sunday.

Race day began as ordinarily as they come. Transition set up went smoothly, body marking…check, timing chip…check. I laid everything out the way I always do on my towel and made my way over to the water’s edge as I ate an Odwalla bar.

It was super low tide, so when the horn sounded, there was a whole lot of hopping, dolphin diving, more hopping, trying to swim…nope…more hopping. When I finally started to swim, I settled quickly into my pace and reminded myself that I need to race in the water and not once I get out, like I seem to always want to do. I’ve been doing a lot of sighting practice all summer since whenever I swim off the boat, I’m always watching out for other boats, rocks and whatnot. This proved to be valuable experience, as I was a lot better at staying on course and navigating the buoys. A couple times, I found the feet of a strong swimmer and drafted for a bit. It’s amazing how much energy this saves. Coming back to shore, again, it was swim, swim, hop, hop, dolphin dive, hop, hop. This is a lot of work to do before starting my ride, I thought.

As I emerged, I looked up to see my friend Kristin with a look of both shock and excitement on her face. She shouted that I was fourth out of the water and not far behind the leader. Sweet! I entered transition feeling really pumped. Just as I’m mounting the bike and congratulating myself on such a fast transition, I realize I’ve forgotten to grab my nutrition. All I have are the two water bottles on the bike, each with only 90 calories of carbs in it. Crap. I shook it off and figured I’d ration the two bottles and use the bottle exchange at mile 36 if I felt I needed to.

Throughout the bike course, I kept thinking, “they don’t call it ‘Toughman’ for nothing!” This is a challenging course. But wow, is it beautiful. At least there’s some reward for all the work the athletes put in. Not to mention the volunteers and cops at each intersection and along the course who were just amazing. Just as I finished my first bottle, I approached the bottle exchange. I slowed a bit, but decided I still had a whole other bottle and felt really good so I’d pass. Not more than a mile later, I hit a huge bump and there went the second bottle. Double crap. But instead of letting this get me down, I told myself, “Now you’re lighter. Move!” I know my pace picked up in the second half of the bike. I think it was partially because I just wanted to get back to T2 where I knew I’d have my Odwalla bars and gel flask waiting for me. That and there’s a nice elevation loss on the way back.

Back into transition, someone told me I was still in fourth. I was hoping to move up at least one spot on the bike, but given I was at such a huge caloric deficit, I was happy to have not been passed.

Finally getting some calories into my body felt great and though my legs were a bit wobbly, I was happy to be running. The run course is absolutely breathtaking. A large portion of it is through a park with gravel and dirt trails and for a while, I got to run through a beautiful park all by myself! Thankfully, the route was so well marked that I never had to worry about being off course and was able to just enjoy the moment. Like the bike course, the run is quite challenging. Because of all the hills, and changes between dirt and paved sections, my mile splits were all over the place, but I focused on pushing myself just enough and tried to not worry about the numbers so much.

At around mile 7, I reached a turnaround and saw a woman behind me moving in fast. I brought my pace up and tried so hard to hold her off but by mile 8, she passed and I knew I wasn’t going to catch her. In the end, over 70.3 miles, she was the only woman to pass me. I approached the finish and learned I was fifth female overall. Considering I did the entire race on about 300 calories, I’m happy with this and even happier to have taken 14 minutes off my previous ½ ironman PR; down to 5:05 from 5:19! Next up, Montauk MightyMan in three weeks, where I’m hoping to break 5 hrs. Anyone who knows me knows how much Montauk means to me and how much energy I draw just from being there. I’m really looking forward to that race!

Looking back...and ahead

This dry, cool weather has shown up at just at the right time. After taking a bit of a recovery week following Eagleman, I jumped back into training a little too quickly and ended up angering my calf right down to my foot last Wednesday while doing some speedwork. I forced myself to back off, which wasn't too difficult considering how hot and humid it got around here, and just as the oppressive weather broke, I felt ready to train. So, this past week, I've had some great workouts, including a 72-mile ride up to the orchard near Pomona, NY and back to Manhattan. On that ride, I think I climbed the cruelest hill I've ever encountered. It was so hard I felt it in my abs yesterday, but I followed through with my plan and had a successful 6x800 track workout followed by some strength training in the gym. Today, I'm looking forward to an early brick in Central Park and then it's back out to the boat, where I'll be getting in plenty of open-water swimming and trail running.

I'm also bringing my bike, which my family isn't too happy about. I never thought they were superstitious, but apparently, they are! They keep asking why I want to ride on July 4, exactly a year after my crash, on the same roads. My mom says she isn't taking a picture of me this time (the one here was taken the morning of my crash just after I ran the 10k to my parents' house and before I headed out on my ride). I guess it's just my way of exorcizing the demons that still plague me sometimes and rewriting the past.

Back in the saddle

Turns out my body was still a little sore from Eagleman, so I decided I needed some extra time off to recover. Nothing a few days on the boat can't cure! Between Friday and Sunday, the most I did was a 4-mile walk on the beach, a few sets of pullups using the metal bar across the back of the boat (yeah, that gets a few weird looks) and some pushups with my feet elevated on a tree stump I found on the beach (yes, weird looks there, too).

I also took some time to plan my workouts from this week through the Toughman 1/2 ironman on September 12. It feels good to wake up and know exactly what I have ahead of me for the day, but I still reserve the right to change it around to accommodate the weather or when my cycling partner can get out for a long ride. Yesterday was going to be my first brick since the race, but instead I had one of the best 56-mile bike rides over the GW Bridge I've had in a while. We rode my favorite hills (Ash, Bradley, Tweed, Mountainview) and I felt really strong on all the climbs.

Looking over my race results, I've come to the conclusion that I'm a climber. Consistently, when I race a hilly course, I do so much better, not only among the field of competitors, but also in setting PRs. I think a lot of it is mental. When I'm riding or running a flat course, I tend to settle into a slightly uncomfortable pace and stay there. By the time I realize I could have been pushing harder, the race is pretty much behind me! But where there are hills, I'm forced to power up them and to see how much more I have in me. Thinking about this makes me want to register for another flat race and push my mind to keep up with my body!

Eagleman 70.3 Race Photos

To race or not to race

I'm thinking about doing the Shelter Island 10k this weekend. I did it three years ago and remember how challenging the course was (yes, SI is very hilly) and how much I loved it. The race is at 5:30PM on Saturday. It's nice to not have to get up early for a race for a change, but with an evening race, I'll be spending the entire day watching everything I eat and drink (I remember doing that in 2007). There's also the fact that I still feel Eaglman in my legs. Registration is open until tomorrow night, so I guess I'll give it another day.

Eagleman 70.3

I registered for Eagleman way back in August 2009. I was still in a wrist brace at the time and wanted something big to focus on for 2010. Well, in that regard, I picked the right race. This was my first "Ironman-branded" event, so I was excited just to be doing it and competing against what I knew would be a very competitive field.

I felt relaxed when I arrived in Cambridge, MD on Friday evening. Ah, ignorance is bliss! Rob and I strolled to the end of the pier at the hotel and looked down into the Choptank River, where the swim was to be held. There were tons of rays slapping the water with their big, lazy wings and I commented that I wanted to get in and swim with them. The water looked very murky, as most rivers tend to be, and warm, though I don't know how I'd get that sense just by looking at it.

We spent Saturday taking care of race prep stuff...getting my number, buying last-minute supplies at the race expo and racking my bike. We also got to watch part of the U.S.-England football match in the hotel bar along with about 100 other anxious triathletes! I noticed a lot were enjoying a beer or two, but I knew how hot it was and wanted to be careful about staying hydrated. A post-race beer always tastes the best anyway, I told myself.

I didn't sleep very well Saturday night but when the alarm went off at 5, I was ready to go. Our hotel room had a fridge, but no microwave, so I had cold leftovers -- Rob's giant stack of pancakes from the previous morning (I love cold pancakes with tons of syrup), some yogurt and a banana. He went for coffee, and breakfast was served.

Wherever I race, if the fishing is good, that's where Rob will be headed. It's pretty funny when we start unpacking our gear. He's got his fly rod and grundens and I've got my bike. This day would be no different. He drove me to transition, kissed me goodbye, and off he went to meet his guide. He always tries to be there at the finish and I always hope he is.

6:30 AM and the air was already thick. I figured they'd be moving quickly to start the race -- get everyone on their way as the day promised to be a hot one, but just the opposite occurred. It started about 15 minutes late. Then I heard no wetsuits were allowed because the water temp. was reading around 80 degrees! I was still standing there with my wetsuit over my arm at the water's edge, looked around and realized nobody else had one. I was glad to have a few extra minutes to go back into the transition area and put it back.

Swimming with no wetsuit doesn't bother me. actually, I quite enjoy it and prefer no wetsuit to overheating during the swim. A lot of people seemed upset about the change, but rules are rules and you have to be prepared to follow them. Since I was already sweating just standing there, I was happy to not put it on.

My swim wave was #7 of 14, all women 30-39, and athenas. I positioned myself front and center and off we went. I'm a naturally good swimmer and I admit this makes me complacent, since it's always been easy for me. I know I can go out and enjoy myself and still come into T1 with a respectable time. And then I use that old rationalization that especially in a 1/2 IM, the swim doesn't matter much (even though this is not true when you're looking to finish among the top). What I should be doing is actually competing in the water. Not thinking about the damn rays and how I finally get to swim with them. But the water feels so good, the sky looks so pretty each time I turn my head to breathe, and that's just how I roll (stroke?).

I catch the back of the 6th and 5th groups of swimmers, which breaks my stride as these are obviously the weakest of the bunch who are fighting just to make it through. They're tired, swimming zig-zag style and getting in the way of anyone else around them. This is when I finally told myself to race, damn it! Unfortunately, I was more than 1/2 way through at this point, so it was a little late to be turning out a stellar swim time. I exited the water 26th in my age group. The clock time is 44 min., but I'm not so sure this is right (and there were others who also felt something was off, either the course distance or the timing). I think mid- to even late-30 min. range would be more accurate, but I wasn't wearing my watch, so I can't be sure.

I took a little more time in T1 than usual because after what happened at Harryman, I wanted to put my watch on. Did that, grabbed my Odwalla bar and gel flask and I was gone.

When they say this course is flat, they mean it. I don't think I shifted more than one gear up or down during the entire 56 miles. And there is absolutely no shade. Not only that, but the wind, as I learned on Sunday, can be relentless. I know now why a lot of people use this race as prep for Kona.

This was my first time racing on the Specialized Transition Pro, the bike which I rode only three times last year before she threw me and my season was over. I had gotten in enough training this Spring to feel comfortable on it again, but by around mile 30, my left groin all the way down to my knee was screaming in pain. This has never happened in training. I found myself compensating by frequently shifting my body around and riding in a much less efficient position. I thought about a pro female Swedish triathlete who during an interview for Kona said so simply, "I hurt, but then everyone hurts, too." or something like that. Yeah, this hurts. Suck it up. When I started out, I was averaging 19.9-20.0 mph. My pace dropped in the middle as the pain got worse, but when I had 16 miles to go, I pushed harder to bring it back up to 20.2 and finish the bike leg in 2:46, 25th among my age group. I know I need to figure out how to make this bike more comfortable before my next race.

When I got to T2, I noticed HORRIBLE chafing under my left arm. I suppose it happened during the swim and I only just noticed it now. I paused wondering if I should remove my tri top and run in just the bathing suit top I wore underneath it, but I didn't put sunblock everywhere and I knew the run course was all sun, so I decided against it.

By this time the heat index on the course was measuring 101 degrees. I started at a 7:15 m/m pace and, though I felt pretty good, I knew with this heat I'd have to reel it in, so I dropped it to about a 7:40. After three miles, it became very apparent there was no way I could maintain that either, and I started going into that dark place that has me asking why I would pay money in exchange for the privilege to do this to myself. I started getting chills and quickly recognized it as early signs of heat stroke. It was time to re-examine my goals for this race and come up with a new plan if I wanted to make it to the finish (at this point, finishing become my goal)!

I decided since this was an "out and back" run, I'd stop at every aid station on the way out to take in as much water, coke and Gatorade that I thought I would need to get me to the next aid station. I also poured lots of water over my head and dumped ice down my shirt, front and back. The volunteers were AMAZING and extremely well prepared to help in any way they could. If I felt better, I would then run through every aid station on the way back (still picking up water and ice as I passed), hoping the mental boost I'd get by knowing I was "coming home" would be the extra kick I needed. My pace dropped down to an 8:30 average by the 6-mile mark, but the plan worked well and I got it up to 8:21 by the time I finished. My run time was clocked at 1:49:28. Insanely slow for me, but surprisingly (or maybe not given the conditions), my run ranked 11th among my age group.

Running down the last three miles, I wanted to see Rob so badly and when I rounded the final corner and saw him right there near the finish, I just smiled so wide, gave him a "high five" and felt so relieved it was over. I finished in 5:25, 15th in my age group. My goal was to come in around the 5-hour mark, but I know I can't be too upset with this when I think about the conditions on the course and the major pain I suffered on the bike. Also, this was my first 1/2 IM in almost two years, as a good friend pointed out, and that one was on a cold, rainy day in Montauk.

I learned a lot and feel humbled by the experience. For about 3 hours after the race, I questioned if I'll ever do another 1/2 IM again, but by morning, I realized what I need to do is plan a little better, train a little smarter and give the distance the respect it clearly deserves. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to the Mighty North Fork sprint and NYC olympic races I have coming up in July. Oh, and I finally had that cold beer somewhere in Delaware during the ride back to NY, and it was still worth the wait.

Mashomack Preserve

I had an amazing long weekend on the water, with lots of trail running, open water swimming, grilling and relaxing in the sun. I also got to spend a lot of time with my family, including my adorable new nephew, Bobby.

On Sunday, I discovered Mashomack Preserve, a Nature Conservancy-managed plot of land that covers 1/3 of Shelter Island. It's got some amazing trails, perfect for running (though I'm pretty sure they're meant for hiking), that take you past salt ponds and woodlands, and offer breathtaking views of the ocean. Getting there by boat, I had to run about 2 miles along the beach before I found a section where I could duck into the trail, but once there, I was free to run a spectacular 10-mile loop. As hot as it was, I couldn't stop getting chills thinking about how lucky I was to be there in the midst of such beauty.

I also did a good bit of swimming in Coecles Harbor, which was perfect after a long run. I'm already looking forward to this weekend so I can go back and do it all again.

Then, it's off to Maryland for the Eagleman 70.3 triathlon! I can't believe it's almost here. When I decided I'm doing this race, I was still recovering from my broken wrist, so it's been the driving force in all my training since then. I feel really strong and ready, and although it's my first 1/2 ironman since October 2008, I just keep reminding myself how much I enjoyed that race and how well my body took to long-distance racing. I've learned a lot since then and I can't wait to put all my training and experience into action.

Way to win me back...

An e-mail I sent to the Harryman race organizers, Genesis Adventures, and the response I got:

Hi Jennifer,

Thank you for the feedback. The signage back into transition should have been in place so I apologize if it wasn't.

Brian


Jennifer Place wrote:

Hi,

I was a competitor at the Harryman Olympic race this weekend. I'm hoping the feedback I give you here will be taken into consideration for future events.

I chose Harryman as my first race back after an injury put me out of competition for half of last season. As such, this race meant a lot to me. Also, given that my last triathlon was in June 2009, I needed a good benchmark for my fitness level and Harryman was to be that marker.

Racing a bike course that has absolutely no mile markers sort of feels like a cruel joke and is very difficult. As athletes yourselves, you shouldn't need someone to point this out to you. What wasn't funny was that at the end of the 21 miles, I had no idea how far I had rode and, with no signs clearly pointing me back to transition, I quickly tried to get the attention of someone, anyone, standing at that intersection to tell me which way to go. Nobody seemed to be able to do that, so I kept going straight. At this moment, I was the lead female. Now, I was forced to descend and climb that long hill a second time and wait until I got back to the top where I could cut safely across the road and head to transition.

My spirits were completely deflated; to say I was angry is an understatement. I continued to race anyway and finished second, knowing that the winner finished only two minutes ahead of me. I'm still shaking my head over how easy it would have been to add a few signs along the way. I know I wasn't the only person who was confused out there, so I hope you take this as an opportunity to improve what could be a great race.

Sincerely, Jennifer Place

Second Place at First Tri of 2010

The start of the 2010 racing season seems like the right time to start blogging again, especially now that I've completed my first triathlon since last year's injury. Yesterday was the Harryman Olympic tri at Lake Welch, NY.

After some doubt about whether or not there would be a swim, the race went on as a triathlon. I was happy I could get the swim in because this is my tune-up race for Eagleman next month and I needed the open-water experience. My swim was pretty good and I finally felt what it's like to draft off a strong guy and stay on his feet. It's like surfing and I can't believe the amount of energy it saves!

The bike course was one 21-mile lap through the park. Simultaneously, there was a 1/2 ironman in progress, which was multiple laps on the same course. It started with a right turn and quick, long downhill. At the bottom, we "U" turned and climbed up the same long hill. There were lots of false flats and a pretty strong headwind, and a few other big descents and climbs along the way. I felt really strong and found myself in the lead pretty early on. It was pretty much me and a few guys and, at some points, just me!

This is great, but with nobody around to follow and NO mile markers or clearly identifiable officials pointing us in the right direction at the turnoff back to transition, I missed it and wound up descending that big hill and having to climb it a second time to get back on course. I lost at least 10 minutes because of this and was so angry, I told myself I'd remove my timing chip when I got back to transition and do the run as training with no pressure.

But I get back to T2 and can't believe what I see. There are hardly any bikes around! Is it possible I'm still doing this? My spirits are lifted as I refocus and realize it's not over yet. I go back into "race mode" and am the first woman out of T2, though I didn't realize it at the time.

At around mile 2, I was passed by super fast runner, Lauren Cullen. She encouraged me to keep going, but I couldn't quite stay with her. At this point I knew I was going for second place, which is still better than I could possibly imagine while I was climbing that hill again. I finished in 2:10:13; about 2:00 behind Lauren and 3:00 before the third female finisher.

Though it's frustrating to know how much time I lost because of poor course markings, it's encouraging that I still managed to stay in the game and hold on for second place. Maybe this will be what fuels my fire even more when I go down to Maryland for Eagleman 70.3 in three weeks! I'm so excited to be racing again.