Ohio 70.3

Two years ago, when I DNF’d at Muncie, I had already signed up for Ohio, which was to take place only a few weeks later. Feeling defeated and not wanting to risk another failure, I opted out of Ohio and thought my Muncie 2015 experience would be my only 70.3. When Ericka expressed an interest this past year in completing a half-Ironman, however, I thought I’d take another swing at it and hoped to finish faster than my 8:00:15 time just three years before.

After Ericka, Karen and I traveled the 3.5 hours and had visited the Athlete Village, checked in our gear and bike, eaten a nice carbo-loaded dinner and gotten settled in for the evening, I received my second video chat from John in Nashville. After trying to figure out a way to make it work for months, I had accepted the reality that because of his dad duties and work schedule he would not be able to come to Delaware to watch me race. Little did I know, he had been plotting with Karen and Ericka for weeks to do just that. Of course, I was completely surprised and in shock at this news, which didn’t help my sleep that evening – knowing that he would be driving through the night, staying at a rest area to catch some shut-eye, and meeting us at the start as closely to 4:30 a.m. as possible. Somehow, he was able to assure me that it wasn’t a big deal, and to expect to see him in the morning.

After a restless night of sleep and 3:00 a.m. wake up call, I was still super groggy as I made my way to that first potty of the day only to find that things were not all well in the GI department. Although I do get nervous prior to tri’s, there was a distinct difference between anxious jitters and whatever was going on with my bowels that morning. My stomach was NOT in a good way, and I could only conclude that it must’ve been the chicken parmesan from the previous evening. Still, I put on my race gear hoping that as the morning went on the discomfort would pass and I would start to feel better.

Arriving at the start, I went back and forth between setting up my T1 area, hitting the potty, and checking on John’s location. The parking area was starting to fill up and I was concerned that he might have a hard time finding a spot if he arrived later than expected. Finally, around 5:00 a.m., after receiving his call, I found him in the crowd and promptly sat on the curb with my head on his shoulder and tears streaming down my face as my stomach didn’t feel any better than it did that morning. My hope was that this would turn out to be either pre-race tummy or a temporary stomach issue, but as the time to take off on the swim drew closer, neither was proving to be true. I spent the next few hours trying to talk myself out of throwing in the towel, debating the worst-case-scenario, and envisioning another DNF and having to tell everyone that knew I was racing that I couldn’t make it happen because of something that was totally out of my control.

John and I made one final trip to the car to grab my swim gear and make our way to the swim start with Karen and Ericka in tow. The way I was moving, you would’ve thought this was a death march more than a swim start, but as uncomfortable and uncertain as I felt, I thought that I would at least start the race and see what happened.

We placed ourselves in the 50-55 minute finishers group, and chit-chatted with some other athletes waiting to get into the water. Karen had gotten a VIP pass, for which she had an extra wrist-band and selflessly gave it to John. This meant they had a front row seat to the swim start and finish, which they took full advantage of with lots of pics and video. As our time to submerge drew nearer, I prepared to wet my goggles one last time for a good seal before taking off on a sweet freestyle for the next 1.2 miles. The water was warmer than I expected, which was a nice surprise even after knowing that it was not wetsuit legal. I proceeded to walk out as far as I could before dunking under, and set off to finish the first of three portions of the race. Unfortunately, the universe had different plans.

After the set of goggles, I had been using all summer began taking in water, I bought a new pair and had had great results from them so far. For whatever reason though, they also began to leak after just a few strokes in the lake. I was so aggravated at this realization but thought that they just weren’t one properly or tight enough so I gave it another try. Nope – same thing. In all, I tried adjusting this contraption 3-4 times before I gave up and decided to get through the entire swim with a breast stroke – a style of swimming I had not practiced all season; this would be interesting. Upon realizing how much slower I was going than my freestyle counterparts, I thought more than once that I was going to end up on a kayak with a DNF on my hands. Rounding the first buoy I checked to see that it had taken me a full 22 minutes to go this short distance. I thought for sure I would miss the 1:10 cutoff time but muddled on just the same.

At the second turn buoy I checked my watch once more, for certain that I was coming up on an hour and tried to figure out how I was going to explain to people that I wasn’t able to finish yet another 70.3. When I saw that I was at 44 minutes, I knew there was still hope, and that I could possibly make it to the finish in time. I tried to pick up my pace as much as I could, and even gave freestyle one more try before realizing that it just wasn’t going to happen and I was wasting more time draining the water and gaining my composure again than what it was worth.

Making the final turn to “swim out,” I mustered as much strength as I could and brought it home. As soon as my feet were able to touch the ground, I stood up and checked my watch: 1:05. I had missed the cut-off by just 5 minutes. This meant that I could still attempt the bike and the run to finish, but that my chances of a PR went way down as I finished 15 minutes slower than in 2015. At this point however, the only thing I cared about was that I was able to keep going. My stomach had finally started to feel better, most of my nerves had been worked through, and I was ready to get on the bike for a smooth, flat 56-miler.

John and Karen were a sight for sore eyes and definitely kept my spirits and motivation up as they yelled for me from the sidelines. Ericka had gotten out of the water prior to me and was already on her way with the bike. My focus, however, was just getting on my gear and heading towards the “bike out,” inflatable to keep this show on the road – literally and figuratively. My adrenaline was pumping now and, unfortunately, this showed on my bike early on as I was pulling out a 19.9 mph for the first 5 miles, and then 18.5 mph for the second five miles. I knew when I saw this speed that I needed to slow down or I was sure to bonk. This was exactly what happened in Muncie in 2016 – I went out way too fast, and between my speed and the headwind, I wasn’t able to make it past mile 40. After getting through my stomach issues this morning as well as my goggle snafu on the swim, the last thing I wanted was to lessen my chances of finishing due to something I actually COULD control. I backed off a bit but kept at around 16 mph as much as I could, determined to beat my Muncie bike time.

The course was described as flat, and boy was it ever! Anyone who knows me in a triathlon capacity knows that I despise hills, so you would think that this course would be perfect for someone like me. Well, it is…. until you realize that you are pedaling continuously for 56 miles without an opportunity to simply coast at all. Still, I would much rather have a flat course that rolls out my legs than constant hills to contend with. Plus, although it was fairly desolate as far as spectators and support goes, it was a pretty course with lots of country scenery to take in.

Because triathlon is such an individual sport, there’s lot of time to think, which isn’t always a good thing. True to form, I did lots of math in my head trying to figure out how many miles I would need to be 1/3 of the way done with the course. Then half-way done and so forth. Simply getting to that 40-mile marker was my mental goal (See: Muncie DNF), which also meant only one more hour on the bike. I had mentioned to John and Ericka recently that my body doesn’t enjoy biking past 35 miles, and this was no less true during this race. It was right around this time that I started to feel myself slow down, both mentally and physically, as I counted down each and every mile until the end. My shoulders and neck were stiff and sore; I had already begun to sit straight up with my hands on my elbow pads just to get a little bit of a stretch – not the most aerodynamic position. At this point, I was going to do whatever it took to make it to the end of the bike course.

Thinking back to the stomach issues of the morning, I knew that I was probably dehydrated, if not well on my way to being. I tried to take in as much water and Infinit as I could on the bike, as well as some pretzels, but despite all this I felt weak and a little light-headed as I rounded the last corner into the stadium. Luckily, John and Karen were both there to greet me and cheer me on in my exhaustive state, as I dismounted and walked my bike at a pace that would’ve made a snail proud. I still wasn’t 100% sure at this point that I would even begin the run, so who was I to care about my T2 time? Luckily, somewhere between sitting my butt on the astroturf and actually lacing up my shoes I decided to give it a shot. I wasn’t sure exactly how much time I had left before the 8:30 cutoff, but I thought I at least had a chance if I could stay upright and keep moving forward. My only regret looking back as I started off on my third and final leg, was that I didn’t take in anymore liquid before heading out. I wasn’t sure my body was going to allow me to run the intervals I had planned, but without something to drink I wouldn’t be running at all – at least until the first water stop.

As I hooked a left out of the stadium I saw John and Karen once again, up ahead on the left. It’s amazing how much someone yelling your name and cheering for you can bring a smile to your face and some pep in your step, no matter how small those steps may be. My biggest smile, however, came when I saw that John had made a sign that read: “My girlfriend is a bad a$$! Go Connie!” Although he had said these words to me many times before, there was something about reading it, in print, during the course of this emotional and exhausting day that made that moment for me!
As I continued on, keeping my eyes peeled for that first water stop, I realized that I may actually pull this off - poop and goggles be damned! And when I finally did get a little liquid in me, it was just what I needed to attempt a little jog to at least get SOME intervals into the run. After just a mile and a half onto the course, runners take a left to get through the first of two loops. I prefer this, as I know what to expect the second time around, and since the bulk of the course was on these loops, there wasn’t a lot of long stretches without turning – something that becomes mundane after a bit.

I tried as much as I could to get into some sort of a 1:1 rhythm, but as tired as I was and being certain that I had plenty of time to finish, I didn’t want to push it too hard and not have anything left for the end of the race. I played with how much and how often I wanted to run, and finally settled on a 4-minute-walk and 1-mile-run plan that suited me just fine. It was long enough of a walk to give me a break, but not so long that I couldn’t get right back into a run when needed. Some folks were on their second loop, while a lot of us were just starting the first. Amazingly, this did not impact me at all. I can sometimes, and mostly do at some point, get into a pretty negative and defeated headspace during endurance races. So, I was pleasantly surprised when I recognized that that was not happening this time around. I mean sure, I did have some struggles during the last portion of the bike, and I wanted to quit many times but, overall, I felt pretty positive and even chatted with some fellow athletes throughout my last leg.

With only a mile and a half left to go I began conversing with a gal who is also from Louisville. She had been walking the entire portion of the run, and was going at a pretty good clip, so I thought keeping company for a while would be a nice change of pace (again, both literally and figuratively). It certainly kept my mind off the last mile for the most part, and when John appeared once more with ¾ of the race left, she took advantage of his kindness and got some finishing times for a few of her friends out on the course.

John informed me that I had approximately 30-minute to finish this last mile. Not to be too cocky or anything, but I could have probably crawled it at this point and still made the cut-off. He soon left me to head back into the stadium and set up for a sweet finishing video, as I trotted along, picking up my pace from time to time, getting increasingly more excited as I heard the announcer and the crowd from inside. As I rounded the last corner leading to the finishers chute, I fell into a near-sprint as I made my way to the end of this awesome day. Crossing that finish line, I was so excited to be completing my second 70.3 Ironman. Many hours of training, sacrificing, and tiring days were put into this accomplishment, and I couldn’t have done it without my amazing boyfriend/Sherpa, John, as well as the greatest cheerleader ever, Karen. Of course, my training partner and ride-or-die, Ericka, has to be mentioned as we struggled through countless hours of training together, and pushed each other to do the best that we could.

As great as this accomplishment feels, I don’t see myself doing another half-Ironman distance triathlon. The training alone takes so much out of me, and I mentioned more than a few times leading up to this weekend that I was most looking forward to getting my life back. Crushing Tri Louisville last month is a good indication that sprints and Olympics are my favorite distance, so I think I’ll be sticking with them from now on. If anything, I’ll make a great Sherpa for those friends that choose to go on to those longer distances – after all, I had the greatest teachers this weekend!

Congrats to all finishers who pulled it out this weekend! So many Landsharks were out there cheering us on, supporting one another, and giving that course hell. I love this sport for so many reasons – the most of which is the comradery that I feel between these awesome athletes! Oh, and this didn't end up being a PR for me. As great as the experience was, I missed it by just under 6 minutes - and I'm perfectly okay with that.

8-Week Burnout

I have 4 more weeks to get my body prepared and my game face on for Ohio 70.3, and I am definitely getting burnt out on training. I was telling both Ericka and John recently that I was looking forward to getting the triathlon over with and getting my life back again; it seems my entire schedule is currently built around working, training, watching the weather to see how it will impact my training, and making social plans around my training schedule. For instance, while I’ve been in possession of Brandi Carlile tickets for a number of months now, the only thing I could think about was how tired I was going to be that evening after a 50-mile bike, when I should have been elated at the chance to see this amazing artist perform at The Louisville Palace. I’m sorta over it, to be honest.

Some people have told me that they don’t necessarily like racing, but that they love the training aspect of triathlon. I’m the exact opposite – while I like the racing part, I tend to loathe the training. Now, don’t get me wrong – I love what the training provides for me….. a feeling of strength in my body, the building of stamina, seeing my body in a more positive light and (just as important) regular and multiple daily bowel movements! But there comes a point when I look at the schedule and realize that for the next three weeks my long days consist of a 50+ mile bike, a 2+ hour run, and 1.2 mile swim – and I get exhausted just reading my Training Peaks calendar.

Luckily, I am on a recovery week at the moment (I do a three-week build, one-week recovery training method), and am feeling so thankful for the break. Not only am I looking at no more than a 1.5 hour ride/30 minute run/2200y swim, I am also driving to Nashville this weekend to see my boyfriend who was out of the country for nearly two weeks. I think this fact has also played a part in my mindset, as I haven’t had him to look forward to. When my life consists of little more than working and training, it’s no wonder that I’m burned out.

All of this being said, I need to keep myself in check and remember that at least I have the capability to be as active as I am; that I have the mental and physical fortitude to train and race the way that I do (even as a back-of-the-packer most races). Instead of complaining about how tired I am, I need to remember that this kind of sore is the good kind because it means that I’ve been pushing myself to improve upon my endurance and strength. That, given my family history of heart disease and obesity, I’m making a choice every day to live a different lifestyle and try to at least negate some of what my DNA has cast upon me. So… for one more day I make the decision to lace up my shoes or don the bike helmet or slip on the goggles and muddle through another mile.

50 Mile Bike - Longest Ride of the Season

I had my longest ride of the season at 50 miles this past weekend, and while I felt mostly good throughout the entire ride, it definitely whipped my butt for the rest of the day.

I was riding with a new group – one that Ericka had ridden with a few weeks prior, but that I was unfamiliar with. I had ridden this route only once before, a few years ago, so while I wasn’t super familiar with the course, at least I knew what to expect in some sense. We got an early start at 6:45 a.m., which I was completely thankful for after completing a 25-mile ride and 1.5 mile walk the day before, starting at 2:00 p.m. – just about the most brutal time of day to start such a task.

Bill was our fearless leader, and while Tyson and Kenny kept on pace with him, Ericka and I often brought up the rear – more so on the hills. We came across some mild rollers the first 20 miles, including one long sucker that seemed to go on forever! We started at Iroquois park and made our way towards JMF – although we didn’t ride through JMF, which saved our legs a bit on the way out to the flood wall in Valley Station. It was mostly shady, which also helped keep us cool early on. We made a quick bathroom stop about halfway through at the boat docks in PRP, then continued our trek west as the sun only got hotter throughout the morning.

I was playing with my nutrition, bringing with me a torpedo and one bottle filled with Infinit, while another contained only water. I didn’t bring any foods that required chewing, as I really wanted to see how I’d do with ONLY liquid nutrition. As has been the case in so many past rides, I started to feel myself bonk a bit with 10 miles left to go. And it was even more noticeable after the ride when I mentioned to Ericka that while the liquid nutrition seemed to work okay on the bike, I’d be in big trouble trying to go out for a half-marathon right after if I didn’t take in something more. I bought some Belvita breakfast crackers, which are thin and small and should be easy to consume during a ride, as well as some Fig Newtons. I’ll play around with these edibles during the ride next week, which should be a 55-miler or so.

Despite having a proper bike fit last year, my shoulders and neck do still feel a bit sore during and after long rides, but it’s much better than it had been prior – I’m chalking this up to “just the way that it is,” and dealing with it the best I can. My speed was a bit faster during this bike as well, at an average of 15.9 moving pace – the fastest I’ve ridden so far during a training ride. I’m still a bit nervous going into Ohio, especially thinking about the 13.1 mile run that will come afterwards, but I have plenty of long rides coming up during the next 6 weeks that will hopefully ease my mind about that – both physically and mentally. And although I’d hate to see a replay of Muncie 2015, in which I walked most of the half-marathon portion, I know that at the very least walking will get it done just as well as running – it just may take quite a bit longer.

Interval Running

I started doing interval running in 2009, during a hot half-marathon that I wasn’t feeling from the beginning. I had read a book on Jeff Galloway’s method of running, and had a hard time convincing myself that I would be any faster if I took scheduled walk breaks – it just didn’t make sense to me. For those of you who are unfamiliar, interval running is when you run for so long (usually by minutes) with a pre-determined scheduled walk break in between; this is done over and over again during the entire course of the training run or race. The hardest part of this is making yourself walk early on, when you’re still feeling good enough that you don’t necessarily need a walk break.

I typically go into my runs with an idea of doing either 4:1 or 3:1 and adjust it according to how I feel. Often, I will start off with a longer run, and then change it to something shorter when I become fatigued – this typically won’t happen in a 5k or 10k, but anything longer and I am almost certainly running less than what I started with.

I set out on Wednesday’s run with a plan to do a 2:1 interval. It was just at 90 degrees, and even though I set out at 5:30 p.m. the sun was still beating down, making it difficult to want to attempt a longer interval. The running portion of my intervals tend to be anywhere from a 9 to a 9:30 pace; it’s just the speed my body wants to go. For a 2-hour jaunt, however, I had to check the Garmin periodically to make sure I wasn’t pushing it too hard as I wanted to make sure I could get back home after my initial five miles.

At my turn around point I took note that it had taken me one hour to achieve 5.2 miles. This is significant, as I wanted to see how much distance I could cover on the way home in the same amount of time if I changed my intervals to 1:1. The 2:1 were already become more difficult the longer I ran, and I was trying to conserve water before I could make it another 1.5 miles or so back to a Heine Bros I would be passing on my way back home. I was running at just under a 12 minute-per-mile pace with my walking breaks, so I felt pretty confident that I would be able to get right around the same mileage.

The run was supposed to only be a 4-miler, however, I was feeling good and decided to get my 2-hour run scheduled for later in the week out of the way. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself throughout all of my years of training for tri’s and long-distance racing, it’s that I should take the opportunity to complete a longer training day when I’m feeling energetic and in a good head space. Not knowing how I’d feel or what the weather would look like in two days (my regularly scheduled long run day), I knew I’d be kicking myself if I completed a mere 4 miles and then felt unmotivated or overly tired on Friday. By the time I got done with the run, I was happy that I had completed it and gotten it out of the way – this meant that now matter how I felt in a few days, I could at least muster a 4 miler, even if I had to walk it, and not have it hamper my training.

Coming up on the last few miles, I knew I was going to be close to the 5-mile mark for the second half, for a total of 10. It still baffles me that I can run just as much mileage in the same amount of time while cutting back on the amount of minutes I run. But… this is the method I used for Tri Louisville and it seemed to work well for me, so I suppose this will be my same plan for Ohio. I can’t remember what exactly my plan was going into Muncie in 2015, but I walked most of it. I’m determined not to do the same thing this time around, and hopefully have a better finish.

Today, I have a 1:40/:20 brick planned, with a 3-hour bike tomorrow morning. My longest swim will take place on Sunday at 2,550 yards. Like I told Ericka yesterday, with both of us feeling and finishing so well at Tri Louisville, the goal at this point is to keep up the training plan, which will results in (hopefully) the same result in Ohio.

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

70.3 Training

Since my Half-Ironman training has been going on for a few weeks now I thought I'd document my progress to look back on for future races. My last Half-Ironman in 2015 was completed during the course of training for a full Ironman (which didn't get completed) that same year. I basically took the same schedule from that training plan and tweaked it a bit. Instead of completing all three disciplines three times per week, I'm doing one swim, one brick, one short run, one long run, and one long bike instead. I'm also sprinkling in some strength training when I can fit it in (both time-wise and energy-wise).

My longest swim and bike were both this past weekend, and both continue to be a learning process for me. I needed 40 miles on the bike, but ended up with 47.5 since I was biking with a group whose meeting point was 4.5 miles from my condo. Now that I live so close to the city, I can bike right out the door rather than racking my bike onto the car and driving somewhere. It's super convenient, but also adds on more mileage when I'm meeting others for a ride so I have to be conscious of that.

We met at the base of the Big 4 Bridge at 8:00 a.m. and set off on the same route I did for a my 35-miler just two weeks prior. We were going a bit further than what I'm used to for our turn-around point, but I had been down this additional road once before so I was at least somewhat familiar. The pace was fairly easy - or what felt easy considering I was drafting behind some folks and holding a conversation with a fairly new triathlete named Katie. Keeping the conversation going, those first 15 miles or so felt like a breeze as we cruised at about an 18mph pace. I had brought along with me a 24oz bottle of Infinit as well as an additional 24oz of water, and 3 Gu's. Katie mentioned that the water bottle she brought didn't fit in her cage so she was riding without any hydration. Seeing as how it wasn't unbearably hot, I handed over my water bottle to her so she would have something to sip on throughout the planned ride. It was a risky decision given the distance, but I since I struggle with taking in fluids on rides anyway, I thought it wouldn't hamper my performance much.

At the 18 mile mark we crossed over a highway onto a road that contains a fair amount of rolling hills. The ride had been pretty flat thus far, and I'm never good on hills, so my speed suffered a bit. Even though I KNOW I need to ride more hills to get stronger, they are the bane of my cycling existence and unless I'm forced to do so or someone else is leading the ride, I'll avoid them at all cost. So it was probably a good thing that I let go of a little control and just went with the flow. At the 23 mile mark, Josh and Bill had pulled over onto a side street, stating that the actual turn-around point was a mile or two ahead, but contained a heckuva hill so they were opting to wait there while others chose to go all the way. Since I was already going to be over my mileage limit, I decided to stop as well and took a 5 minute breather before heading back towards our start point. I noticed that I was running out of Infinit at this point, but at the very least knew that I could fill up at the base of the bridge before finishing up my last 5 miles. Although Josh, Bill and Julie opted to wait for the rest of the crew, I headed back on my own knowing they would soon be on my tail as I was definitely bringing up the rear with this group.

Another 7 miles or so back towards home, I gave in and asked Bill if he had any water to spare - I didn't think there was any way that I could make it to the bridge without anything as the day was now getting hotter and I was beginning to feel myself at the first stages of a bonk. I've NEVER been good about getting my nutrition down on the bike, and this is something I really need to work on over the next few months. That July heat isn't going to show me any mercy and my fear is that if I don't get it straight before my race then I'll suffer another DNF - that cannot happen! Luckily, Bill had some to spare - not straight water, but Infinit like what I had been drinking, so I was able to get in some more calories as well. This was definitely a good thing as I noticed myself getting quiet on the ride back in when Bill was trying to have a conversation with me. My lack of verbal response is a tell-tell sign that I am on my way to a not-so-good place while training, meaning I have not taken in the amount of calories or fluids that I've needed to.

Once we reached the bridge I headed back over alone while Bill waited for the rest of the group to catch up in Indiana. Once I reached the base of the Kentucky side, I topped off the rest of my bottle with straight water, which was a welcome relief from the sweetness of the Infinit-filled bottles I had already downed. I had a little over 4 miles left to go and my quads were burning from the previous hills. I had one more long, slow climb up Zorn Avenue, which is always a bear as it's one of the few ways to get back to my place and is situated just 1.5 miles away from the condo. I made my way up and over, then a quick left back onto Brownsboro to my final destination.

Upon my return I had planned to try a short run just to get the legs stretched out and used to moving after such a long ride. However, due to my lack of nutrition I felt a bit light headed and went inside to the cool A/C to grab a drink and relax for about 15 minutes. Although I didn't get a run in I did manage to take the dog for a one-mile walk around the block without incident - success!

Two days later I would complete my longest swim in a year. I wanted to make sure to get to the outdoor pool early enough to snag a good spot where I could relax and tan, but I also wanted to make sure the pool wasn't too crowded for me to get in 2200 yards before it was overrun with kids and families. This particular pool only has one lane open for lap swimmers, which makes sense since it's more of a recreational pool than a training pool. Somehow, getting a swim in isn't as tedious in an outdoor pool as it is indoors - something I was very grateful for given the distance I was about to complete.

I wasn't sure how I was going to break this swim up considering I needed to complete 44 total laps in 25 yard increments. 44 total laps = 88 total touches of the wall before turning back and doing it all again. And again. And again. At first I thought of breaking it up by 200 yards. Then I came to my senses and realized that would take way too long, so I decided to do two sets of 1100. Of course, by the time I reached that 1100 mark I didn't want to stop; mainly for two reasons. 1) I was already on a roll and 2) 2200 yards is 1.25 miles which is just over the Half-Ironman swim distance and I wanted to see how long it would take me to complete the entire length in one go round. Well... the answer is 1:06 - which is still within the time frame of the cut-off so I'm good there. I realize that this pace is uber-slow for most folks but, to be honest, I'm not particularly worried about the swim itself or my swim time as long as I make the cut-off. I'm not necessarily going for a PR (although it would be nice) and know that my struggles will always be with the bike and the run, so as long as I survive the swim I'm okay with whatever my time happens to be. Besides, I am always faster in open water than I am in a pool so I'm fairly certain I can crush this 1:06 time when all is said and done.

Looking ahead at my training plan, I have this same distance on the calendar every single week with the exception of two longer distance swims. At some point I will taper. Until then, I'll keep swimming along and working on my shoulder and arm strength, as well as my endurance. Just like with biking and running - swimming is one of those things that I always dread getting started, but always enjoy once I'm there. I'll just have to keep that in mind the next time I'm moving at a turtles pace for over an hour.

Chicago Spring Half Marathon

Alicia and I arrived in Chicago the day before the race to a chilly 60ish degrees and overcast sky. I had been checking the weather all week to prepare myself for what was to come, hoping that the rain would hold off at least until Sunday afternoon. Luckily, Saturday ended up being a pretty decent day as far as weather goes as we walked around downtown, accumulating a total of 10+ miles as we checked out many of the touristy things Chi Town has to offer.

After checking out Millennium Park and 360 Chicago, including all of the sites in between, dinner was consumed early as we wanted to beat the crowd This ended up being an excellent idea as by the time we left the restaurant around 7:30 p.m., there was a long line out the door. We made our way back to the hotel and were settling in for the night by 9:30. The race was set to start at 7:00 a.m., but I had to be in my corral by the 6:45 a.m. cutoff, which meant a 5:30 wake-up call. Luckily, Chicago is in the Central Time Zone so it didn’t feel as early as it was.
The next morning, I woke up after a less-than-stellar nights sleep and peeked outside – no rain, but definitely some cloud coverage. After dressing for the day in my usual running gear – shorts, t-shirt with a long-sleeve tech shirt over top, hat and race belt, I headed out the door to make my way one-mile down the city streets to the start line.

I’ve always been excellent with time-management, and this morning would be no different. I allotted myself 45 minutes to get to the start, hit the porta pots, and then wait in my corral for the officials to announce the start of the race. Much to my dismay, however, after letting the first 3 corrals go off with only a 45 second break in between, the race director shared that they would be waiting a full 4 minutes before letting the subsequent corrals cross the start. This meant 35 minutes of total waiting time in the corral – getting a little more anxious and a whole lot colder as each minute passed. While shorts and a long-sleeve tech are great 40 degree running attire, it’s not necessarily the picture of warmth for standing around for half an hour.

Twenty minutes after the official start time, my corral was able to begin our 13.1 mile journey at 7:20 a.m. My plan was to do my regular 3:1 intervals throughout the race, but because I had gotten so cold from standing around for so long I decided to run at least one mile before taking a break; I was definitely looking forward to warming up some. My plan was slightly foiled ¾ of a mile in when I had to stop for a potty break – something I hardly ever do during a race. It slowed me down by 2 ½ minutes, but I was able to make up at least some of that time as I decided to run the second mile straight through as well. Although I was going at a nice pace (9:10 – 9:30), I knew I couldn’t keep that up for long and decided to being a 4:1 interval plan from then on out. I was at least somewhat warmed up by that point, so the one-minute walk breaks didn’t feel so frigid.

Moving right along during this out-and-back route, I felt great and was able to get into a good groove considering the somewhat congested course. The race was mostly flat which always helps and, unbeknownst to me, we were feeling the effects of a nice tail-wind which would prove to be a significant game changer after crossing the 10k turn around point. Running a bit closer to the lake on the way back to the finish, runners got a little splash from the water smashing against the rocks for the first half-mile or so. This coupled with the air that was now blasting against my torso made for an even chillier jaunt as my hands became more and more numb. Because the wind was such a force to be reckoned with, I changed my intervals to a 2:1 and noticed my pace decrease to a 9:45 pace. Since I had had such a stellar first-half, I wasn’t too concerned about how I would finish the final 7 miles – my goal was to just keep up the shorter intervals to the end, no matter how much I needed to slow down.

At some point I began to do the math, and calculated the pace I would need to keep in order to get a PR. Because I was feeling so good, despite the conditions, I was confident that I could at least beat my KDF Mini time from 3 weeks prior. My PR of 2:14 would’ve been a long shot, but if I could end this race having finished in one of my faster speeds, I would be completely satisfied. Having only a 5k left to go, I needed no slower than a 13 minute/mile pace to beat my KDF time – piece of cake.

Rounding the last corner, seeing the finish line up ahead, I checked my watch one last time to see that I would need to finished .2 miles in a little over 1 minute in order to get a sub-2:20 race. The headwind had made my legs feel like I was running through mud, so I knew that increasing my pace to complete such a finish was next to impossible. Regardless, I reached down and pulled out what I could, trying to finish as strong as my body would allow, and ended up with a 2:20:23 official time – my third best finish of what was now 36 total half-marathon races.

As cold as it was standing around at the start of this race, I am now a firm believer that the cooler weather (45-55 degrees) is exactly what I need to perform as fast as I can (fast for me, at least). My PR of 2:14 was in Indianapolis in 2014, and I recall it being in the 30’s that day. I also believe that my hiking adventures on the AT have helped with leg strength, and it will be interesting when I complete the Chicago Fall Half Marathon after another 4 days out on the trail, if this theory holds true. Regardless, I stand firm to a statement I’ve made in the recent past that I am now judging races based on how I feel rather than the time I finish. It just so happens that in this particular race, feeling great and finishing “fast,” were equally applicable. Here’s hoping I can keep up this trend for the Tri Louisville 3 weeks away!