Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Never Anonymous

Once upon a time I could show up at a race, do my thing, and go home without anyone ever giving me a second thought.  I was just another name on the results, buried somewhere between the middle and the bottom; nothing spectacular, nothing notable.  Well, maybe I'd come in top five in my age group... which is easy to do when you are 20-24 and there are only somewhere between four and six people in it in the first place.  I remember going to races and not knowing a single soul except maybe my parents who had come to support me from the sidelines, camera around one of their necks like it was the first day of school or something.

This past weekend I participated in a little local race.  Sometimes when I do these races I think to myself that it would be fantastic to do only these kinds of races from now on.  They're way cheaper, there are so few people racing that parking is a breeze and you don't have to arrive three hours before it starts, there are only eight porta-potties and yet still no lines.  In fact, this is probably the first time I've gone into a porta-potty before a triathlon and been the first one to use it.  I didn't realize it was possible for them not to smell terrible.  The course isn't crowded and you don't have to worry about drowning on the swim due to hundreds of other people you're swimming with and you don't have to give a second thought about avoiding drafting, because people are just naturally very spread out. 

I'd never done a race where they took roll call before you got in the water to start your swim.  There were maybe ninety people racing but we were still separated into I believe four waves.  It was so strange to look around at the other competitors before the race and realize that I knew nobody.  Sure, that was normal when I first started racing, but especially to be racing local, I don't think I've done a race where I knew nobody since I raced in the middle of nowhere in Arizona.  And at least in that case it made sense to know nobody.  I feel as though I should know all of the triathletes in New Hampshire, but apparently I do not. 

Somehow swimming has become my best event.  This has less to do with my having gotten a lot better at swimming than the fact that I've gotten so much worse at biking and running.  Either way, I feel pretty good in the water, and after starting in a little pack and following some feet for a few minutes and a couple of swim buoys, I decided they were not moving fast enough for me and broke away, spending the remainder of the swim alone, with the exception of passing a few people from the wave in front of me.  After swimming two loops I spent the run up to transition feeling as though I was going to projectile vomit.  I felt fine during the swim, not sure where it came from, but I had to seriously slow down or risk an explosion of epic proportions.

Fortunately, the feeling subsided rather quickly once I was on the bike.  The approach for the race was to try and execute it well from a heart rate standpoint.  I am absolutely notorious for going too hard on the bike and faltering on the run.  Of course in my head I am convinced I can bike but not run, so why not push my best discipline since I know there is no way the run is going to save me?  This is the wrong attitude to have, by the way, but it's hard not to have that constantly running through my head.  But this time, instead I spent especially the first half of the ride keeping my heart rate down and thinking to myself I had to keep it in a place where I was sure I could maintain a higher heart rate on the run. 

This resulted in many, many people passing me.  I'm more used to not being passed by anyone on the bike, but that was not going to happen this time.  The course was fairly tough and hilly and I was just trying to be in control rather than "race" so that's what I did.  It's also funny to do a race so small that each aid station has precisely two volunteers.  And that was really all they needed.  Sadly, the on-course drink was HEED.  Okay, seriously, is there anyone out there that actually likes this stuff?  I don't know the science behind it, so maybe it is the perfect electrolyte drink, but it tastes like what I'd suspect the sweat I might ring out of my socks after a race would taste like. 

Anyway, the hills kept coming and I kept on not going very fast, but that's not really what I was thinking about.  I was thinking about just going for a ride and keeping my heart rate in the right place.  This resulted in my slowest half ironman bike in a while... wait, maybe not that long since Mooseman last year was a disaster, but still not a great one.  As I ran my bike into transition I heard a few people say my name and looked around to recognize nobody.  This wasn't a names-on-your-numbers kind of race, so I have no idea how they knew who I was or if I knew them. 

Off on the run, and, amazingly, my heart rate went where I needed it to go.  I felt like I was running way too easy for it to be so high, but I also figured there was no way I was going to be running that half marathon anywhere near fast, so I just went with it, only keeping an eye on the heart rate number and nothing else.  The run course was actually really nice.  A main road for a bit but then we went on some rolling dirt roads and saw hardly any cars.  We even wound up on a trail for a bit. 

Somewhere in the two-three mile range someone ran by me and asked, "Are you Molly?"  Now, this sort of thing has happened to me a lot over the last several years.  As you can probably guess it is mostly because of the whole thing in Lake Placid 2006.  Of course, time keeps passing and the realization that that was six years ago is astonishing to me.  At the same time, I've fallen so off the radar since then that I just assume that people have completely forgotten.  Was that really that big of a deal anymore?  But apparently people haven't forgotten about it. 

I ran with her for a bit and she told me she's been following me since that race.  She also very kindly told me that she was sorry to hear about my father.  I actually thought about him quite a bit that day.  The only other time in my life I'd taken the road I took to get to that race was when we were driving back and forth to the hospital he died at.  She also told me I was an inspiration.  This is not the first time I've been told such things by random strangers on the race course, although it's been a while.  It's definitely a bit strange to me especially since I haven't been incredibly inspirational as of late, but I won't lie and say it's not nice to hear.  The only thing now is that I have to remember that sort of thing and actually earn the right to be inspirational.  I think it's too late to ever get to do races anymore where nobody knows who I am, so I'm just going to have to get back to living up to my reputation. 

She took off and the run continued while I wasn't thinking about much aside from continuing to move forward.  The aid stations were sort of weirdly placed at random intervals, and the only bad thing I'd say about this race is that there were close to three miles after halfway in which there were no aid stations at all.  This is where I sort of started to lose it a bit.  I was thirsty!  And at one point I considered swimming across the lake back to the finish line, but I kept going instead, getting passed by plenty of people along the way.  I paid no attention to my time, I just wanted to survive to the finish.  I really miss actually racing these things, but I'm not really in a position to do that right now. 

The good news was that somehow I escaped the race with no blisters and once again, thanks to the awesome Pearl Izumi tri outfit, no chaffing.  Seriously, have you ever done an Ironman and not had even a hint of chaffing?  I have.  Get yourself outfitted in their stuff.  I crossed the little finish line and wasted no time walking back to the water to get in.  It was an overcast day for the most part, but at times it felt pretty toasty on the run. 

After that I had my Endurox and then sat at a picnic table with some random people.  I heard behind me, "Aren't you the one who won Lake Placid in 2006?"  Yep, that would be me.  Again, the anonymity is definitely gone even if it still surprises me.  I did win my age group, which was mostly due to the fact that once you took out the top three overall, there were only three people left in the race in my age group.  But I did get another shiny medal to add to the collection.  Then it was time to head back to the lake house where I pretty quickly got cleaned up and headed over to Wolfeboro to hang out with my friends there who had participated in the Chunky Dunk Duathlon.  It was a half-mile swim and a 5K run.  I kept thinking that I probably should've raced there instead! 

So, another little race done and another reminder that I do need to get back what I had before.  It's in there somewhere.  I seriously feel like I'm typing into thin air when I write these blogs so it's always a surprise to me when someone tells me they actually read it.  I mean, I know that's sort of the point, but that doesn't make it less surprising.  I plan on spending the next few months totally transforming myself back into the athlete who can really race these races, so hopefully it will be more interesting to follow.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

The Rest of 2012...

The other day I sat down and finished up making all of the arrangements and paying all remaining entry fees for the rest of my season, and a bit into 2013.  It made me realize why this sport is full of people who earn lots and lots of money.  It's expensive!  If I hadn't been such a good saver once upon a time, I'd be in real trouble right now.  The fact of the matter is that I'll probably have to really cut back on any camps or excess travel next year, but for now, the worst of the damage has been done.  I felt like I wanted one really awful credit card payment so that next month I may feel like I'm under the illusion of actually making a bit of money.  But truthfully my account is about to have the least amount of money in it I think there has ever been.  I sure wish I had that Ironman CDA unused entry fee back from 2011.  And Timberman from 2011 AND 2010.  And other races maybe that I did but shouldn't have.

If anything, I should use this as incentive to really nail my training.  I've invested way too much money to waste it!  So what does this all entail?  Let's see....  August will be somewhat busy including my first return to race Timberman since 2008.  The last time I raced Timberman was the one time I actually cried on the run course.  I also managed to spend more time on the run course than the bike course.  Let's hope I do not have a repeat.  The week after that is QT2 camp in Vermont.  Again, I can't really afford this but at the same time I think I need the group training environment as much as possible right now.  I've always been a real loner when it comes to training, but to get back where I need to be the group thing seems to be doing me some good.

September will involve a trip to Phoenix for the first time in five years to do a training camp for Ironman Arizona.  This is necessary to obtain my sneaky entry.  Well, not that sneaky, it's pretty well advertized.  Technically I don't have to DO the camp to get the entry, but if the money is being paid, I'll be doing the camp.  I'll fly from there to Orange County for the staggeringly low price of $61 thanks to Southwest, where I'll spend the weekend doing a half ironman out there with Michelle and Jen.

I'll then fly home for a couple of weeks before boarding some very long flights to Kona.  Mary and I spent the weekend joking about how ridiculous it is that we're going to Kona.  She says it's like we're acting like high rollers and we are definitely not.  Seriously, when I bought my car last year they very nearly didn't give me a loan because of my income.  Fortunately my credit score is outstanding or I might have to ride the Cervelo everywhere.  That would've been a long ride to Texas.  We are definitely crazy for going, but it's still going to be lots of fun and I plan to make the most of it.  My biggest training weeks for Ironman Arizona just happen to coincide with my trip over there, so it will work out perfectly.  I also plan on doing some surfing.  I've been surfing a few times back here in NH, but it is certainly not the same!

So, once I return from 12 (wait, TWELVE?  Who do I think I am?) days in Hawaii, I'll basically be back for a few weeks of tapering and whining about training in the cold and dark before going back to Arizona for another Ironman.  The first thing I said to a good friend of mine at the finish line in '07 there was, "Don't EVER do this race," because I found it so unpleasant.  But, well, the timing is right and I know the course and know I can go fast there.  It is also the site of my first major disappointment in a race.  I had huge hopes for that one, and I completely blew my legs apart on the bike trying to fight the wind.  I 'fell apart' to a 3:47 marathon.  I really wish that was still my fall apart marathon time!  We're getting there :)

After that, I will be coming home to sleep for many days and have Thanksgiving before gearing up for 2013.  I'll be racing again in Galveston and at Ironman Texas.  I honestly thought I would hate that race, and nothing could be further from the truth.  In fact, I obviously enjoyed both of those enough to go back.  But rest assured: I will be flying there!

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Lake Placid 2012 Spectator Report

I have been terrible about updating, I know.  This is going to have to end soon.  But, to make up for it, here is an excessively long post about the details of my six days in Lake Placid.

I headed up on Wednesday, which just happened to be close to a hundred degrees, which meant another packing session spent with sweat just pouring off my face.  But once in the car the drive wasn't too bad.  I learned that my tiny little car can fit two bikes in it as though it was nothing.  And it's not like my bikes are small.  I swear that car is like some optical illusion, like the tents in that Harry Potter movie that look all unassuming from the outside, but then inside looks like a huge house. 

I made it in about four and a half hours even though I had bad timing on the ferry, seeing it just pulling away as I rolled up to the pay gate.  I was staying at Art Devlin's Olympic Motor Inn, which just happens to be an amazing location for race week.  My car was not moved upon my arrival.  The girls of room ten became the girls of room 26, right upstairs from our abode several weeks ago.  Mary arrived later that evening and as usual we spent too much time talking and went to bed way too late, but fortunately we didn't have a set time to start things in the morning. 

The morning was pleasantly cool, such a nice change of pace after days and days of hot and humid.  I actually felt like I could run when I set off for my long run in the morning, up around the lake and down toward the bike course.  All I could really think about was how nice it was to not feel like collapsing due to heat exhaustion.  After a quick shower I took a walk up to the expo to check things out and wound up replacing my aero helmet.  Mine was completely falling apart and literally unwearable at this point since it is cracked nearly in half.  I'm no safety expert, but I'm pretty sure that means it has lost its effectiveness. 

Mary and I set off to ride a loop of the course at around noon, her on her new QR which she loves.  The weather was simply gorgeous and at that point there weren't too many bikers out, so it was a really pleasant ride.  Not long after we finished we met up with Kim so we could all go for a little swim.  I am not sure there is another body of water I enjoy swimming in more than Mirror Lake.  Well, Mirror Lake as long as it is not on race day, that is.  We swam two loops and completed our first day of Placid training in time to get cleaned up and head to dinner at The Cottage with Kim and her husband Kyle. 

Mary and I were going to be the only ones in our hotel room again but we got a late call from Tara who was on her way up.  Apparently the house she was supposed to stay in had a guest who was severely allergic to dogs, which meant that Marley wasn't going to be a great addition.  This was unknown until just then and even the house owner had to keep his dog in the garage.  So she asked if she could come stay with us.  Well, why not?  So room ten was almost entirely reunited and we got our little mascot back.  And of course we stayed up too late talking.

We decided Friday would be long ride day, and had no interest in leaving at the crack of dawn.  So we set off about eight.  Mary had about a hundred meetings that day and had to bypass the ride, but Tara and I went off with Charlie and Jen Gray.  We all had various lengths to ride but we made it about 30 miles together, at least.  Tara had the smart idea of adding to the ride by going back and forth on the flat section rather than climbing back and forth into town, so we all did that as much as we needed to before climbing back into town.

Of course I was left alone after about 50 miles because I had to ride the longest.  The weather was absolutely perfect, and I had one fun experience of refilling my bottles with some lawn sprinklers.  I must say that that lawn sprinkler water was delicious and icy cold.  Once my ride was done I got in a little transition run and was glad to finally be able to sit down!  We took a little break and had planned to swim a little later on.  Tara headed down to the beach with Marley, I stayed in to lie down and Mary was off doing whatever Mary does when she's incredibly busy and being pulled in a million directions. 

I finally headed to the water at about five to find Mary and Tara who were both less than enthusiastic about getting in the water.  I have to say, at that moment I easily could've put my head down in the grass and fallen asleep right there amidst the chaos, but I also knew I'd feel better if I got in the water and swam.  Honesty, the hardest thing sometimes is just getting started.  So I convinced them to come with me. Trent arrived in time to join us as well and of course we were all glad that we had gotten in the water. 

After our swim, Mary, Tara and I headed out of town a bit to Tail o' the Pup with Tim Snow for a little coach's meeting.  Just a good way to all sit down and ask all of the questions that needed asking and get face to face answers.  It was very helpful and a fun way to spend the evening.  Well, for us, anyway.  Not sure how Tim felt about it! 

We made it home to the hotel where Trent and Marley were waiting, and believe it or not, that did not complete our group.  Nope, later that evening, Solveig arrived.  I promise though, that was it!  Yes, five people and a dog in one little hotel room.  Somehow the room actually seemed cleaner than when we were in room 10.  So clearly it was all Jennie's fault ;) 

Saturday morning was the QT2 breakfast and we decided we wanted to get a run in before, so we all set off for our various times and distances and got back in time to clean up before heading over for some food.  It's quite amazing to see how this has evolved over the past few years.  2009 was my first year with QT2 and at that point we had a few tables set up in the main dining room.  Then for two years we were in our own room that was attached to the regular buffet.  This year we had nearly a hundred people, our own room and our own personal buffet set up.  It was truly incredible. 

Those of us not racing got to enjoy an adequate breakfast that did not involve stuffing ourselves full of pancakes.  It was quite nice.  You always kind of wonder if you'll get to the race venue and be jealous of the people who are racing.  I really wasn't.  Maybe it's knowing I've got my own races coming up or the fact that I've done it seven times and don't feel like I'm missing much, but fortunately I don't think it's because I'd never want to.  It's just nice to be in town without the pressure and be able to walk around and enjoy things rather than resting and trying to do everything "right." 

After breakfast I took a chance to do some work and then chatted with one of my athletes who was racing so we could go over everything.  It's too bad that I can't be at every big race for my athletes because it really is nice to be able to be there for a face-to-face meeting for these things.  After that I had just enough time for a little bike ride before we went to go swim again. 

As we walked toward the water we kept running into people we knew.  It was funny, the first year I went there I knew I think three people aside from my own family.  Now I can't go anywhere without running into people I know.  And I'm not even the worst one.  I'm positive Mary knows more people and Tara probably does, too.  Either way, the consensus once we finally made it to the water was that from then on we had to tack on an extra thirty minutes to get from the hotel to the water even though the walk only takes five, because surely we'd be running into people and talking. 

Another wonderful swim and then we had to get cleaned up for our pre-race meal.  There were quite a few people out and about and we had to wait for a table at Dancing Bears but had ourselves a nice meal.  We even saw some athletes with race wrist bands having cheeseburgers.  Honestly, good for them.  I kind of like seeing the people who don't take it that seriously.  Sometimes we can put too much stock in eating the exact right thing.  I personally wouldn't be able to eat a burger the night before a race, but if it works for you, great.

After that we headed back to the Lake Placid Brewery for the non-racer pre-race festivities.  It was fun and once again I was not sad not to be racing.  But even not racing, a little after ten I started fading fast and it took me a while to get out of there because it was like as soon as I decided I was ready to leave I'd get into another conversation, but eventually we did manage to get out of there.  Somehow I had a harder time falling asleep than if I were racing, in spite of having been so tired.  We also heard some rain that night, but it was over quick.

Mary got up at 4 I think.  I don't know, I was still deliriously tired at that point and could barely figure out what was going on.  The rest of us finally left the room sometime after 6.  As we headed toward the lake, I still wasn't excited to be racing.  Tara is racing in New York City in a few weeks and I asked her if this made her any more excited about her own race and she said no.  I told her that I bet that as the day went along she'd be more and more excited about it.

Let's face it: nobody likes the beginning of an Ironman.  The absolute worst part of the day is like the last 15-20 minutes before the race starts.  You sit there thinking about all of the training you've done and all of the things that could happen, wondering if you're ready, wondering if you'll get what you wanted out of the day.  You wonder if your stomach will cooperate, if you're hydrated enough, if you need one more trip to the bathroom before you get in the water.  Then you get in the water and just wait.  Just start the stupid race, already!  The waiting sucks.  It gives you too much time to look at everyone else and wonder how much potential they have to kick you in the face or punch you in the back of the head once you start swimming.  The anticipation of the swim start is usually worse than reality.  But again, the bottom line is that you do not want to trade places with the racers at that point in the day.

We saw the pros go off, which is decidedly uneventful as there aren't that many of them and you simply watch Andy Potts launch like a torpedo, never to be seen again.  And eventually the cannon fired and off the racers went.  We watched a lot of people complete their first loop before making our way toward transition where we could see some people.  Positioning ourselves on the oval right where the racers ran toward their bikes turned out to be the perfect position to cheer people on and even ensure that they saw us.  It's an excellent place to cheer for people. 

After a long stretch of this we decided to head back to the hotel to quickly regroup and then head over to the infamous Papa Bear hill to continue the spectating.  It took us a long time to push our way through the treacherous and ill-planned crosswalk (everyone was just walking into each other and once you got to the other side nobody would move so you could actually get through) but eventually we got to the hotel.  Everyone headed out and I stayed behind for a bit to get some neglected work done.  I swear I've never felt like I had less time to myself to do my work than I did this week.  I hopped on my mountain bike to expedite the process and was too late to see the first few bikers come through but eventually they all started rolling up and we were able to see quite a few of our friends. 

This is where you start to miss the race a bit more.  I have a pretty good memory anyway, but I have to say that I vividly recall going up that hill, especially the second loop in 2006.  Simply an incredible feeling.  We stayed long enough to see all of our athletes before decided to move on.  Tara, Marley and I walked back toward the lake to get a swim in.  Trent and Mary headed back to the hotel and Solveig was doing some workout somewhere.  The trip to the lake involved some sketchy maneuvering behind bike special needs but we did survive. 

Once again we were not that excited to swim, but I have to say it made me feel so much better.  Spectating isn't easy. You spend so much time just standing around and your feet and lower legs start to swell up.  This is why that one little loop in the lake was so essential.  I'm not sure I would've made it through the rest of the day without it.  The beach was a zoo but there weren't too many people in the water which was quite nice. 

After that we went back to the hotel and then to the QT2 tent to cheer on some runners.  This is maybe a quarter-mile out of transition.  As a racer, it is quite intimidating to run by the QT2 tent.  I know we all race for ourselves and our friends are simply there to be supportive but there can be a lot of pressure when you know so many people are watching you!  It seemed quite hot out even just as a spectator so it would be an interesting run to watch.  QT2 racers all seemed to be doing quite well and it was exciting to watch.  Also a nice touch was that we were close enough to the hotel room that we could run back whenever we needed anything. 

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of racers and just watching the QT2 women move up to dominate the podium as they took top 3.  It was incredible to watch.  Jessie Donavan won, who turned pro less than a year ago and works full time, married with three kids.  Jennie Hansen came in second in her first Ironman, also having to spend her days working.  And third was Jacqui Gordon in her 20th Ironman which apparently she "trained through" so she can also race in New York City in a few weeks.  Pretty good day for us!  Our men and age groupers didn't do too badly, either. 

As we were spectating and more and more people had finished it was funny to realize that nobody in our little group was racing, so we had no set end time to the cheering.  It was like, when are we allowed to go get dinner?  Finally we decided to head down to Lisa G's to get something to eat.  We sat out back next to a waterfall and it was great.  It was also nice to just sit down!  It was room 26 plus Pat and Courtney Wheeler.  We had all just about had enough after a full day of spectating and cumulative lack of sleep.  But of course we did make one last trip to the finish line. 

I saw my athlete finish, and she did not have the day she wanted due to medical issues out of our control.  It's disappointing but those sorts of things happen.  Kim in her first Ironman as a pro suffered the same sort of fate.  It's unfortunate but happens to the best of us.  Finally we had had enough and called it a night. 

The following morning we decided to swim a bit early and just get it done.  After days and days of it being a zoo over there it was incredibly quiet when we got in the water, as was to be expected.  Tara and I swam two loops while everyone else got out after one.  Did I mention I love swimming in that lake? 

Upon our arrival back to the hotel we discovered that apparently we needed to check out in an hour.  I was the only one who was actually going to stay that night but of course everyone would've used the room to hold there stuff at least a little bit longer, but we had to scramble to get out of there.  Fortunately Tim and Cait put me up for the night in the house they'd rented.  I probably could've just left, but I had it in my head I wanted to do some workouts on Tuesday morning before I left and just couldn't bring myself to get out of there. 

I walked down to the awards but they did it differently and it was a very simple and quick thing rather than a whole banquet with food, so I actually missed the winner speeches which was disappointing.  But I did get to see and talk to some people.  That night I had dinner once again at Dancing Bears with Cait and Tim and their other friends from the house.  Pretty busy night out there. 

And that brings us to the final day, where I woke up too early and was torn between just falling back asleep because I was so exhausted or just getting up and running, which is what I decided to do.  I wanted one more run and it was so nice and quiet, almost eerie.  I quickly packed my stuff up and got in one more swim by myself.  It was so weird to be alone after so many days of swimming with my friends, but it was still nice.  Then I hopped in the car and headed for the ferry.

I realized that this was my ninth year in a row going to Lake Placid for that race.  It seems impossible to me that I'm old enough to be able to say that, but it's true.  I absolutely love that town.  It's where I did my first Ironman, got my first Kona qualification, and had the absolute race of my life.  Every time I go down Main Street I remember a bunch of different little things.  Dinners at Jimmy's for my carb load, my last-minute sunglasses purchase at EMS in 2006 because mine broke, my parents shopping in the Adirondack stores to help outfit their new lake house, pre-race swims, running out of T2 and taking the lead, running that out and back, the time I inexplicably tripped over my own two feet and hit the pavement a quarter-mile from the finish, seeing my friends out on the course.  Just so many different things.  I can't imagine not going back there, whether I ever race there again or not.  Either way, I think it was just what I needed for the motivational push to tackle the rest of the season. 

And now I've just finished booking plane tickets and signing up for races and getting hotel reservations and paying for the house in Kona.  I have no money left, but it had to be done.  It will be interesting to see what happens next for me.