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.
