Today was the second annual Circle Triathlon held in Ashland, NH. This race is conveniently located a bit over 3 miles from my parents' lake house, and falls right at the end of a rest week, so the timing and location make it a no-brainer. I went to bed nice and early last night but found it incredibly difficult to actually fall asleep for some unknown reason. The funny thing was, once I did finally fall asleep, I wound up having not one, but two anxiety dreams about the race. I am not generally the kind of person who gets incredibly nervous before a race - I kind of just try to focus on the process and the things I can control - so it seemed just plain silly for me to have these kinds of nervous dreams before such a tiny race. The first one had me trying to get to the swim start, and I was watching the waves go off and there were fewer and fewer people and I just wanted to be there in time, and then finally one of the officials at the start looked down over the water and called to someone else, "All of the swimmers are in the water." What, no! I'm not there yet! I woke up at that exact moment and almost started laughing at how ludicrous that was.
The second dream had me on the run portion, trying to run as hard as I could but seemingly not getting anywhere, like trying to run on loose sand. Let me just say that my entire life I have had dreams of trying to run and just barely moving. Sometimes in the case of trying to get away from something, sometimes, back when I was playing basketball, it would be me on the court trying to get to the other side and hardly moving, and now that I am doing races, sometimes now the same thing pops up in racing scenarios, making me painfully frustrated even in my sleep. I guess it's safe to say that not being able to run has been a recurring theme in my life. But anyway, I was trying to run as hard as I could, with one guy in front of me and hoping I could pass him, thinking I was doing well. He started moving back and forth, slapping hands of spectators and getting in my way, but then we turned a corner to cross a bridge and it was like there was this whole line of people just standing still, waiting to cross the finish line. So apparently in that one I thought I was doing really well, only to find out that there were so many people in front of me that the line to cross the finish had come to a dead stop. No wonder I didn't get much sleep last night.
Anyway, in spite of the limited sleep and anxiety dreams, I had no trouble getting out of bed at 6:00. When is the last time you got to sleep until 6 before a triathlon? The race was supposed to start at 8, and I needed to eat 2 hours before, but of course I knew that it was bound to start a bit late, and I was right about that. I stumbled downstairs to immediately down my applesauce, banana and protein shake while I made my nephew some peanut butter and jelly toast since the two of us were the only ones up. I was jealous of his breakfast, and thankful that he didn't want to taste my protein powder that looks suspiciously like chocolate milk but certainly doesn't taste the same. Overnight I had heard the wind picking up and I knew that fall would be blowing in, so I definitely needed a jacket and long pants to start my morning.
Just before 7 I got on my bike and pedaled down to the marina where the transition area is. It was a very cool morning, but pleasantly sunny, and with the still-warm water that meant pretty good race conditions. I registered yesterday so I just had to get body-marked and rack my bike. They had actually numbered the racks this year, 10 numbers on each rack, although honestly it was a pretty tight squeeze for 10 bikes - especially given the fact that one of the bikes on my rack was a beach-cruiser with a rear-view mirror. However, it was also pretty much the first rack I've come across that was easily tall enough for me to rack my bike by the seat, so that was kind of nice. Transition set-up was minimal, got to use the bathroom which is in this really nice bath-house with flushing toilets and each stall has its own little sink, put on my wetsuit and headed down to the water.
I ran into my family on the beach and checked out the swim course, which was set up slightly different from last year, but not by much. Most of the people in the race were not wearing wetsuits. Last year we had a mass start, but this year we were sent off in waves separated by a mere 30 seconds. I didn't actually have to experience it to know that 30 seconds is not enough time between waves. You might as well not even bother. Plus, all they did was go by numbers: 50 people in each wave, 100-150 in the first wave, 151-200 in the second, 201-250 in the third (my wave as #212) and then I think there was just one more, 251-300 in the last wave. I'm pretty sure that numbers were assigned only based on what order we signed up, which is not the best way to do things. Of course, if they had tried to seed us I'd probably have just been stuck in the women's wave, which would've been last. It also seemed odd to me that basically if you wanted, you could probably have started in whichever wave you wanted, but I opted to wait that whole 60 seconds for my wave to start.
The first wave lined up and the air horn went off and they were on their way. The other thing about this 30 seconds is that it doesn't give the next wave in line much time to wade into the water, not that they had to go far. Due to the fact that this is an extremely beginner-friendly race, when the second wave went off, there were still people in the wave in front of them who had probably only made it about 15 yards off-shore. Yep, I knew that was going to happen. But we were next. I got a good spot heading right for the first buoy, not really near anyone in my own wave, but already dangerously close to the people in front of me who hadn't even really started swimming yet. But the horn sounded, so off I went.
It took me about 10 strokes before I came across the first side-stroke kick. I managed to avoid it and continued on into the sea of people in front of me. It was like a swimming obstacle course: try and find the quickest route to that buoy while weaving between all of these people. There was some light contact, and a few scary moments with flailing legs in front of me, but it literally probably only took me about 90 seconds to get clear of the worst offenders, and then I could just swim. After I made the turn at the first buoy, the second buoy was almost directly into the sun, but thankfully it was large enough that I could actually see it. I could've sworn I was heading right for it, although I was completely alone and most of the other swimmers seemed to be far off to my right. I hoped I was the one on the more direct path, but who can ever tell.
It seemed to take forever to get to that buoy, but at least then I got to turn and head back towards shore. Now that the sun was behind me I assumed that would make sighting on this last stretch pretty easy. Wow, I was so wrong. The rest of the course was marked by a swim raft at the town beach and a small buoy - the size of a basketball - that we were supposed to swim between before hitting the ramp on the beach. I could see none of these things. The buoy was too small and the raft must've just blended in with the beach and the spectators. I was still completely by myself, still seeing a few people off to my right and still wondering if I was heading in the right direction. At some point I could at least make out the exit ramp, so I aimed for that. Eventually, I finally saw that tiny buoy and it looked like I was heading where I was supposed to be going, so I was glad for that. I exited the water and ran up the ramp, pretty much by myself. There were 144 people in this race. The results, like most, rank everyone in each individual leg. Somehow, compared with the rest of the field, I had the 4th fastest swim. That was even better than my bike compared to everyone else (5th) You know it might not be the deepest field if this is the case.
My swim time was a lot slower than last year, by a good 3 minutes. But after the race in talking with some other people who had also done it last year, we decided the swim was definitely longer than last time. Also, I am pretty sure T1 was included in the time. I am still staggeringly bad at T1 -emphasis on staggering. I actually got my wetsuit off ok but for some reason still had my cap and goggles on my head. Oops. At least I took them off before I tried to get on my helmet. Another slow bike mount as well, and then it was time to put the hammer down and gain as much time as possible.
I had no idea where I was in the field. Last year with the mass start, when I got on the bike I could see the police car in front of the race leader and I could count the bikes in front of me. This year it was just a pretty empty road. I passed a couple of people immediately and then was by myself for a few miles. The beginning of the course is a stretch of road I've ridden hundreds of times, a series of rolling hills, not too steep, but with some good downhills to pick up the pace and keep the momentum going to head up the next one. Unfortunately, this stretch was only about two miles, and I had to bear right onto another road and begin the climbing.
I turned onto Shepard Hill Road. You can be pretty sure in this state that if a road has the word "Hill" in it, they aren't kidding. I'm pretty sure I mentioned already that I had ridden the course I think four times in the past week, so at least I knew exactly what I was getting into. This first climb was probably the longest, but certainly not the steepest. The burning in my throat was apparent right from the beginning, but I knew I'd get a bit of a rest once I got to the top, so I pressed on. I was quite happy that I did not get passed at that point. I got to fly down some hills after that and then tackle the second-longest, but probably steepest part of the course. This one was sort of a 3-tiered climb, and it's pretty mean because just when you think you're done, you get to the top and find out that there is another, quite-steep section you have to climb up before you can rest. There's nothing worse than a sneaky hill hiding after what you think is the top, but again, I had prepared myself and I knew it was coming. I believe it was there that I got passed by Dave of the Granite State Tri club. I had met Dave at a clinic I went to and of course being a local, I run into him at a lot of races. I spent the rest of the ride going back and forth with Dave, he putting some good distance between us when we were going up the hills, and me getting it all back and more once we hit the downhills and flats.
I believe we only passed one or two other cyclists out there as the course was pretty spread out. After a couple of fast descents we turned onto this really nice, freshly paved road and I tried to keep the effort up. For one thing, it was kind of chilly and it made my quads feel sort of stiff. It also left my feet numb, but that's nothing new. The hills never cut us a break and as soon as you'd get a good rhythm going, you'd find yourself having to ride up for a while again. But at least the worst of it was over. I passed the town line sign indicating that we had returned to Ashland and I knew it wouldn't be much longer. It's amazing how fast 12 miles can go by as compared to say, 112. The last time I trained on this route I averaged 15.9mph due to its awesome hilliness. The official race results have me at 24.4mph. While I think that's totally awesome and everything, that is so not what my average speed was. If you do the math that would've been my speed if the course had been 15 miles, not 12. It's kind of like how last year they had my pace down as 5:03's when I couldn't even manage sub 7's. Oh well, perhaps I shouldn't have just blown my cover and let you all think that I was that fast, but, sadly, I was not. 19.6 though, which given the course I was pretty happy with. Especially since it was about 5 minutes faster than my split last year, would've been the fastest overall last year (this year 5th) and even a year ago that 5-minutes-slower split put me in a pretty good position, so things were good.
I believe the bike split on the results page includes the second transition, but luckily although I am bad at T1, I am decent at T2. I had passed Dave in the last stretch and came off the bike before he did, managed to get my shoes off and ran barefoot into the transition area. I didn't really bother to look around at how many bikes were already there, because, frankly, it didn't matter. Off with the helmet and on with the run shoes and I was out of there in no time.
Ah, the run. The frustrating, have-bad-dreams-about-it run. I have been accused of over-biking sometimes due to just thinking it's cool to pass people and be fast on the bike. The truth is, I just have no confidence in my run. Part of me thinks that for like the next year I should do a 5K or something similar pretty much weekly just to break my constant habit of running so freakin' slow and not being comfortable with red-lining. My cadence seemed decent, but I couldn't be bothered with trying to count my steps or keep track of numbers on my watch. I just wanted to run. Dave passed me pretty quick, which I figured would happen, and I wondered if anyone else was behind me but was afraid to look back. For the longest time I could've sworn I was hearing someone back there, but it was just my own footsteps. I was completely alone. We ran out along the main road and then turned down a side street to head back in the opposite direction back to the marina. I was breathing to the point of wheezing, but that didn't seem right since although my heart rate was pretty high right around 181, I didn't really think that should've brought about wheezing. Again, maybe someday I'll figure out this running fast thing.
I approached the first mile marker and looked at my watch. 6:46. Darn. I used to "accidentally" start half marathons at that pace and sometimes even faster, and I'm pretty sure it never felt like I was working this hard. Still beat the 7+ from last year. When I made the turn on the side road I was able to see back and notice that there was not a soul in sight. Good, I won't have to destroy myself trying to stay in front of anyone! Sure, I was going to run as hard as I could still, it just might not have the same sense of urgency. The wheezing continued, and I was thankful that this was probably one of the flattest run courses I had come across, the complete opposite of the bike course. I still suck at running hills and somehow need to figure it out in the next several months before I attempt to tackle the reportedly insanely hilly marathon course at Ironman Utah, but anyway... I hit mile two and glanced down to see 13:39 on the watch. Well, if anything, at least I hadn't slowed down too much. The course is listed at 2.5 miles, but in reality it is more like a little over 2.7. Again, at least I was prepared for this, so the fact that it took me more than another 3:30 to get to the finish didn't alarm me.
I ran along, wheezing and keeping my eyes up ahead, taking note of the landmarks I had carefully ingrained in my memory so I would know how close I was to the end. There's that street sign, there's that spot where you can finally see the river, getting closer now... it actually came up quicker than I had anticipated, and there was the orange mesh fencing directing me to the finish. The bikers were still coming in on the same road by the dozens, but lucky for me, I just got to turn and cross the finish line. I was announced as the first female finisher, which I had been pretty sure about anyway. Later found out I was 4th overall across the line. I completed the run in 18:25, about 3 minutes faster than last year. At first I was kind of disappointed that I wasn't even faster than that, but once I did the math and figured out that that made me over a minute per mile faster, I decided that yeah, that was probably an adequate improvement. Also, 10th fastest run split overall. Granted, if you had seen most of the people competing you might not have been so impressed, but I will take the small victories where I can get them.
My parents had come to watch, as had my sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew. Everyone seemed to have a good time. Certainly watching a race that only takes a little over an hour is a lot easier to handle, not to mention the fact that they had to drive about 5 minutes to get there. My overall time was only 4 minutes faster than the year before, but I'm giving myself a 3-minute credit on the swim and calling it 7 minutes faster. Not bad, although beating the 2008 version of Molly really isn't a lot to brag about! So I successfully defended my title and won my fourth race overall. I'd like to thank all the rest of QT2, most notably Cait, for staying home today :) Then again, they don't even acknowledge winners at this race so I'm not sure it really matters anyway. Of the four races I've won, I actually only have 1 actual award that says I won. Nope, not Lake Placid, but a tiny Olympic distance race I won out in Arizona in 2007. I certainly don't do it for the accolades, but it'd be nice to have something to commemorate the accomplishment.
I decided to stick around and watch the two kids races that took place after ours. Actually, technically, all of the races were open to everyone, although most of the competitors were kids since the distances were so short. There were a few adults in them though, a few who had obviously signed up as a way to accompany their kids the entire time, which I suppose wasn't such a bad idea. It was fun, the kids all seemed to have a blast. Even the one girl who I saw start the run with her bike helmet still on her head. Also, while the third and final race was still going on, I saw this one woman who had done my race cross the line 3 and a half hours after we had started. I must say, I do have a lot of respect for some of these people who go ahead and challenge themselves like that and don't worry about the fact that they might not be a "real" triathlete. That's what races like today are for, so that anyone can go out and give it a go.
I packed up and rode home, time to rest for a bit and then head out on my bike for another ride. At least now I don't have to torture myself on that race course anymore with those nasty hills. My throat still burns, but I'm not too sore... yet. Fortunately for once I was actually able to get to my recovery drink almost immediately upon crossing the finish line, so I'm hoping that helps. Now I'm showered, scrubbed of my body marking and if it weren't only 6:45, might just be getting into bed. I have a ridiculous week of training coming up, followed by one that will likely be even ridiculouser (is that a word? I kind of think it fits here).
So fun day, good times, someday I need to learn how to sprint!
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