2005 Ralphs Half Ironman
A fairly intensive weekend successfully negotiated :-). I didn't see the other cows in attendance at Ralph's but it looks like they raced well.
Even though I entered this partially because it's an Ironman qualifier, I'm not totally delusional. I knew that winning my division in this competitive race and securing a spot at Kona was practically an impossibility. But I did have a challenging goal...to secure a spot for the Mad Cows on the podium (top 5 finish). This, I knew, would be a stretch but I believed it was within the realm of possibility.
I was close...6th place, 3 min 7 sec behind the 5th place finisher. Now I'm ruminating over the race and the day, searching for places where I might have blown those 3 min 7 sec. Don't get me wrong. I am NOT disappointed in my race. On the contrary, I was pretty pleased with it. A PR for the distance in my first outing very early in the season (Maybe if I hadn't rested quite so long after Kona?) on a pretty challenging day..I'm not complaining! Fortunately, Chad stepped up to the plate and got the Mad Cows on the podium with his awesome race.
I couldn't take any more than one day off of work so I had to drive to Oceanside the day before the race (Maybe if I hadn't spent 9 hours behind the wheel the day before racing?). I arrived with plenty of time to deal with packet pickup, checking in to hotel, sorting and organizing gear, eating at decent time and getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.
As the sun was sinking behind gathering rain clouds I walked along the swim venue, Oceanside Harbor, looking into the dark grey, cold looking waterwith growing dread. The official report was that the water was 59 degrees=:-0! I have not ever swum in water that cold in my adult life. Add tothat no opportunity to test myself out in this cold water before the race and really no opportunity to warm up before our wave start. Could I do it?
Morning arrived about 50 degrees and with light, misty drizzle and strong gusting winds. The road surfaces were wet with plenty of standing water. My anxiety level ratcheted up another notch. The chicken in me would awaken on the bike leg for sure. We had to park about 1.5 miles from the pier and ride the rest of the way carrying all of our gear. I couldn't help but think what a different sport this would be if you had to race with all of your gear, my arms and shoulders were screaming by the time I reached the pier from the weight of my backpack.
I set up my transition using a mental checklist from our recent transition workshop then warmed up with about 20 min of easy jogging on very stiff legs before donning my wetsuit. And the rain began to fall harder. The pros were coming out of the water as my wave was working its way toward the swim staging area. The rain was coming down seriously now. I watched them in transition to see how they were dressing for the bike. Many of them were taking the time to put on arm warmers and long sleeves. If they were worried about getting cold...I better be prepared to be a block of ice!
Finally, there I stood toes at waters edge, moment of truth, to take the plunge into the icy water or not? The wave ahead was away. I had exactly 3 min to get in, get used to it and go. I really had no choice, I was past the point of no return. I braced myself for the shock and charged in without any physical hesitation, despite the huge mental pause. When the water hit me in the face the breathhold reflex hit hard. I got over it by dolphining out to the deep water start, forcing my face into the water repeatedly until my chest loosened up and allowed me to take a breath. Then I started swimming, first having to breath every stroke and finally alternate breathing just as I reached the start line. Less than a minute to tread water and the horn sounded.
Despite my cold water anxiety I settled into a relaxed swim rhythm pretty fast. Hands and feet were icy but otherwise it wasn't that bad. I stayed wide, out of traffic (Maybe if I learned to get more comfortable swimming in traffic and took advantage of drafting?). My wave was small so this was easy. Navigation was simple on this out and back route through the harbor. As we approached the turnaround, near the jetty and breakwater, we got hit with some serious swell that made swimming and navigating a bit more challenging. After feeling like I was swimming in place for a while I finally got around the turnaround buoys and the swells caried me towards home. I began to notice that there were a lot more swimmers around me from the wave before me than from my own wave. Hmmm. Maybe I was having an ok swim. I heard later there was a whale in the harbor with us. Yikes! I'm not sure if I wish I'd seen it or I'm glad I didn't.
My numb feet hit the boat ramp, I attempted to stand only to be siezed by a major hamstring cramp (Maybe if I hadn't fallen back into the water when my hamstring cramped but managed to keep moving forward and out of the water?). I yelped and fell backward. It took a bit to get my feet, which I couldn't feel, back under me. The cramp loosened and I gingerly stood and cautiously started jogging. It was a long, narrow, slippery run to the bikes. About halfway I felt something slip out of my hand, looked down and saw my swim cap hit the pavement. I ran on, contemplating the dropped swimcap. Technically to leave it was a rules violation-littering. Would they enforce it? Hmmm, my race number is on the swim cap. Better go back and get it! This meant going backwards against traffic quite a ways. By the time I picked up the swim cap and was headed back in the right direction an athlete had slipped and gone down in the chute. We all were stopped until he was up and ascertained to be ok. (Maybe if I had managed to hang onto my swim cap through T1?)
Aside from the dropped swimcap I'm really pleased with my transition. I managed a standing, handsfree wetsuit exit. Used the rolled sock technique to get them on fast. Got helmet, glasses, arm warmers, mittens (yes, mittens) on without fumbling despite numb hands, and was away fast. I was shocked at the number of bikes still racked in my section. I'm used to being one of the last bikes left. I actually had to look for my bike amongst many this time. A good sign. I later learned I was 4th out of the water in my division!
It was another long run to the bike mount line. Finally, I was in the saddle and pedaling. The much dreaded swim, now behind me, hadn't been nearly as bad as I'd feared. Though my hands and feet were numb and I was freezing, I was still functional. The rain had subsided but the road surfaces were very wet. The bike course has its fair share of sharp turns and descents. I'm a cautious, bordering on fearful, rider unwilling to put life and limb on the line to shave minutes or seconds off my bike split (Maybe if I wasn't so conservative on the bike and I rode a little more aggressively?). The bike course was beautiful, almost entirely on the grounds of Camp Pendleton. The road surfaces, though wet, were mostly clean and smooth. Traffic control was awesome. Winds were strong. We had a sweet tailwind for a fair stretch in the second 10 miles of the ride, a strong headwind for the 3rd and 4th 10 miles through the hilly bits, but a nice tailwind to push us home over the final miles. Unfortunately the rain started coming down really hard when I was getting that final push from the wind and the lack of visibility and wet roads held me back a bit.
I never got tired on the bike (Maybe if I challenged myself a bit more on the climbs and facing the wind?) and I rode into T2 with plenty of biking left in my legs. I had a flawless T2 which also featured long runs to and from the bike racks. Looking at the transition times I outgunned a lot of people here. Again I put into practice Chad's tips from the workshop. I was looking forward to good cool weather running conditions. A day too cold for biking and swimming often is just about perfect for running. Not! The out portion of the double out and back was slammed with a cold headwind. I stayed cold and felt I was running in place despite feeling ok coming off the bike. Then the unthinkable happened...someone in my age passed me on the run! And I just let her go. (Maybe if I'd fought harder to stay with the woman who passed me even though she was running faster than I can?). I'm used to being the passer, not the passee on the run. Maybe this simply reflects an improvement in my bike and swim performance but it annoyed me. Then a second woman in my age went by. That finally got my competitive fires lit and I started running harder in pursuit. Even though catching either of them was out of the question it did lead me past a couple of other women in my age and, unbeknownst to me, slowly moving in on the woman who would end up in 5th place.
It was nice to have a tailwind on the return portion of the run. It's the only time during the day that I wasn't cold. There was the added bonus of feeling like I was actually getting somewhere when heading toward the finish line over the final 3.5 miles. I ran the last 5K the best (Maybe if I had found that running rhythm earlier?). I felt strong finishing and stoked at a new pb for the half ironman distance. I set out with a challenging goal and only came up 3 min 7 seconds short of achieving it.
Now back to training for France.