Tri Louisville - Olympic Distance

The week of the Tri Louisville Olympic triathlon was a taper week for me, as I did nothing more than a short brick (25-mile bike, 2-mile run) and my regular routine of walking the dog rather than 5 workouts in a 7-day period. It was a busy week at work, and I just didn’t have it in me to do anymore. Because I had been consistent with my training plan up until this point, however, I felt confident going into the race on Sunday morning.

I had been watching the weather all week, as the forecast had been calling for scattered thunderstorms with a high near 90 degrees – both of which can make for a difficult race for several reasons. Luckily, I woke up to fairly blue skies and no sign of rain just yet. It was starting to get warm, but it wasn’t unbearably hot or humid as Kentucky summers often tend to be. I got into the transition area around 6:00 a.m. to set up my spot and saw many of my Landshark friends already there. The race director had given our club 6 bike racks, so it was nice to all be set up together.

After taking in some nutrition (Cliff Bar) and hitting the potty one last time, Ericka and I made our way to the start of the swim. Our wave would be going off at 7:48 a.m., which gave me plenty of time to stand around and get anxious. I always get nervous just before the start of a triathlon – I’m not sure why this still is. My nerves at the start of half-marathons ended years ago, but no matter how long I’ve been doing tris (9 years now) I still get super antsy just before; I suppose it’s because so many things can go wrong in a tri versus a mere foot race.

Hopping off the dock and into the Ohio, the water was exceptionally low and my group sank up to our knees in mud. This is the part I was least looking forward to – feeling squishy, gross mud between my toes and the fear of what I would step on as we waited for the gun to go off, signaling the start of our swim. When it was finally time to submerge ourselves and move forward, there was still quite a bit of shallow water to get through, as each swimmer had their own way of muddling through. Some continued to walk out even further until they hit more depth, while I began my freestyle right away, sometimes dragging my fingertips along the bottom of the river for a few strokes.

Being a slow swimmer, I wasn’t surprised to find myself in the back of the pack shortly after we took off. Not long after the start, my anxieties about just how long and daunting this swim was began to sink in and I wondered how I could get myself out of this murky, deep predicament I put myself in. No one could blame me for quitting if I were to have an anxiety attack, right? Of course, this was just a fleeting thought before I convinced myself to keep swimming along – remembering the words of praise and encouragement I had just received that morning from my boyfriend. He had called me a “bad ass,” of a girlfriend, but how bad ass would it be if I were to give up less than 200 meters into a swim? Bad ass or not, I swam along to the first buoy before hooking a left and heading downstream for the majority of this first portion of the race.

Swimming .9 miles in the mighty Ohio becomes a bit mundane after a while, so I can’t quite recall what, if any, thoughts went through my head. I was focused more on where the next buoy was so as not to get too far off course and keeping track of when I needed to make my final turn back to shore. I had long given up on counting, or caring about, the number of swimmers who went off in waves after mine who passed me. When that last turn did finally come, resulting in a now perpendicular-to-the-shore swim, I got a bit concerned that the current would continue to take me down river, so I picked up my pace a bit to ensure that I would safely make it out of the water where I was meant to – at the docks of an abandoned restaurant, lined with volunteers and spectators cheering us all on as we finished up the first of three legs.

Climbing out of the water was a bit challenging, as there were no volunteers there to help us out, and the steps that were to aid us didn’t go down into the water very far. When I finally did get myself up and out of the water, I felt a bit woozy as I made my way to the wetsuit strippers – pulling off my goggles and swim cap in the interim. I was cognizant enough to stop my watch when I hit dry land and saw that I had swam nearly a mile in around 32 minutes – this is a huge achievement for me as it is super-fast compared to the times I typically see in my pool swims.

I walked swiftly to the transition area and plopped myself down on the ground to wipe off as much of the mud and water I could from my feet before donning my socks and cycling shoes, as well as the rest of my cycling gear, before rolling my bike out of T-1. As I got onto my bike I hit my Garmin to signal that I was leaving transition to start my cycle. This technology proved to be my biggest struggle of the day as I was never able to get it to the screen I needed to keep track of my distance and speed. Not wanting to waste any more time, I began to peddle onto the course and go by feel rather than what an electronic device strapped to my wrist told me.

The course for this particular tri consists of 4 loops – starting with the majority of mileage accumulated by heading west through downtown, only to turn around and head back towards the transition area after a brief bypass down River Road. Olympic distance is 24.8 miles officially, so I knew after I finished that first loop in 23 minutes I was making good time. As long as I could finish the cycling portion in under 1 hour 40 minutes, I would stay on par with my training speed of 15 mph. If I could finish in 1:32, I would keep up the same pace I finished that first loop in – this became my goal.

Some people dislike loops, but I don’t really mind them. I tend to do a lot of math in my head in order to keep occupied while running and biking, so being able to check off the number of loops I’ve done versus what I have remaining always helps. Plus, I know exactly what to expect on the course this way. As I rode those 24.8 miles I heard a lot of my Shark-mates cheering both myself and others on as we peddled along. There were so many other Landsharks out on the course that day, and it was great hearing those words of encouragement. And since the bike course runs parallel to the running course, I was also able to shout out a few supportive words to those who had already completed their bike or were doing the duathlon that day. It was truly great hearing and seeing all the shows of support everyone had for one another, and personally kept me moving along at a great pace.

Side note: I’ve been playing around with my nutrition on the bike and took some mini pretzel with me to try out on the course. I shoved three into my mouth at one point and noticed that it is impossible for me to cycle, chew, and breath all at the same time. Because of this I had to chew with my mouth opened while simultaneously huffing and puffing through my peddle strokes. Pretzels and deep inhaling make for a horrible combination, and I ended up coughing off and on during the next 5 miles, feeling the remnants of pretzel tickling my throat. This further proves my theory that, at least for me, liquid nutrition while I bike is probably the way to go.

After hopping off the bike and changing out my gear in T2, I realized that I had 1 hour and 15 minutes to run the remaining 6.2 miles in order to get a PR. My best Olympic time thus far was 3:19:49, which I accomplished two years prior on this same course. And while a 1:15 10k is pretty much cake during a typical road race, it’s not always feasible after just spending 2 hours swimming and biking – but I was willing to give it a shot. I had already decided to do a 1:1 interval, given the heat and my wobbly legs. And although I feared this strategy would get monotonous real quick, I knew that I would only hamper my speed and quicken fatigue if I tried anything more.

As I made my way down the side walk I got some more words of encouragement from volunteers and fellow racers alike. This continued to fuel my endorphins as I felt great both physically and mentally going into my last leg. I had been getting in more brick workouts than I normally do, so I knew that the heavy feeling in my legs would subside the longer I was out on the run. I was able to keep up the 1:1 intervals pretty well and began to play leap-frog with a gal who was running continuously (albeit slowly) as her own strategy. At one point we began to converse about how many times we had passed one another, joking that as long as we kept within eyesight we each knew that our pace was on point. The clouds that had previously rolled in now began to dissipate, and it was back to the late morning sun beating down upon us as we finished up 2 loops of the course.

Ericka, who had crushed my time on both the swim and the bike, was walking more and more as I reached her during the last 2 miles or so of the race. It seemed to be getting hotter by the minute, and I had already lost my leap-frog pal who went ahead of me as my pace also began to slow down. Seeing that I had approximately 15 minutes to finish the last portion of the race before my PR cut-off, I struggled to run as much as I could, making sure I was walking no more than one minute at a time.

Finally, I rounded the last corner and could see the Finish Line up ahead. As I mustered up the remainder of my strength, my pace got quicker as plenty of Landsharks and other spectators cheered from the sidelines, calling my name. As I passed by I threw my arms up in the air and declared, “PR, baby!” I was both relieved and excited to make my last step across the finish line, knowing that I left everything I had out on the course, and that my training had paid off that day.

Despite my initial anxiety getting into the water, the heat of the day and my Garmin snafu, I can honestly say this is the best I have felt during an Olympic distance triathlon. I think the training I’ve put into it as I work my way towards Ohio, as well as having a more positive mindset during my races has helped. There have admittedly been races in the past that I loathed the entire time, for whatever reason. I also now have someone in my life who is so incredibly supportive and encouraging to me, and who I can share and relive these race experiences with that make me much more excited to push myself and compete at my best. While I will always have my friends to support me, being able to verbalize with someone after the fact all of my emotions, worries, concerns and excitements of the day adds a little something special to the experience. And I am so thankful to finally have someone in my life who “gets it,” as much as I do.

Of course, Ohio training continues as we are now down to the final 7 weeks before my “A” race. As long as the weather cooperates, and I continue to follow my training plan I think this race will also be a success for me. I will have my ride-or-die, Ericka, there alongside me with Karen as our Sherpa as we conquer twice the distance of the Olympic (sans the swim – which is a mere .3 miles further). I will need to continue to experiment with my nutrition, and spend some time working out that darn Garmin so that I can actually keep track of pace and mileage for this daunting race. Until then, I swim, bike, and run along building strength and endurance towards my second 70.3 finish.

Final Results:

Swim (.9 miles) 31:55
T-1 5:25
Bike (24.8 miles) 1:26
T-2 2:03
Run (6.2 miles) 1:08:53

3:14:17 - 5+ minute PR