Rev3 Quassy Half 2011 Race Report

This is going to be ugly.  Well, not ugly, maybe.  Just disappointing.

Going into this race, I wasn't psyched - in fact, I was dreading it.  Maybe it's because I knew that the past couple of weeks' training was disappointing, to say the least - 2 swims in that time, only 2 or so runs each week, and just a bit better on the bike, but not covering nearly the hours I was supposed to.  Part of it was Memorial Day weekend falling in there, so that, though I biked, I had to convert one 4 hour ride to a 2 hour ride, and instead of doing hill repeats, it was in flattish Montauk.  (NOT that I'm complaining - Montauk was fabulous, and I look forward to going back for another few weekends this summer!), and part of it was workouts being posted late, making it hard for me to juggle them around the way I'd like to do.  So I knew I wasn't as prepared as I should be, and yesterday's warm up run, bike and swim didn't do much to alleviate my concerns.

Since the race was only 1 1/2 hours from home, I decided to skip staying at a hotel and come back home after yesterday's packet pick-up, run, bike and swim part of the course so that I could walk the dogs, and just because it's nice to have my breakfast stuff, coffee, and anything else I might need around.  Of course, that meant a 3:30 AM wake up, instead of 5 which I'm used to, but worthwhile to me, I thought.

Until I woke up this morning, that is.  I was not functional at all, despite going to bed at 8.  Still, gathered my things, pulled my overnight oats out of the fridge, and added almonds, dried cherries and fresh strawberries to them; mixed some coffee with ice and protein powder to take once I got to Quassy, and filled all the water bottles.  While my morning stuff should have taken only half an hour, I didn't manage to get out of the house until 4:30.  Fortunately, traffic was light, and I was able to shave 15 minutes off of the commute, getting in at 5:45, only 15 minutes after transition opened.  And it was plenty of time to set everything up - because the girl who was supposed to rack up next to me didn't show up, there was also plenty of room for me to spread out my stuff.  I took sips of the coffee-chocolate whey powder concoction as I was getting ready; I had also packed rice crackers with chocolate peanut butter, but wasn't really feeling that, so ended up dumping them.

The Rev3 people really know how to put on a well-run race - they not only had bike mechanics, but people with TriSlide, offering to spray the stuff on people before they put on their wet suits.  First time I've ever seen that.  They also had plenty of aid stations on the course - three on the bike, and at least 10 on the run, many of which had, in addition to the usual water and gatorade, Gu, bananas, cola, pretzels, and port-o-potties.

After some light warming up, it was time for the swim.  Given that my last two races I had moments of panic, particularly last race, my goal for today's swim was very simple - go out slow, take my time, and focus on my breath, stroke and sighting, and most importantly, not panic!! I figured that if I wasn't trying to be faster than anyone else, there wouldn't be any reason to forget the basics.  Turns out that I was right.

The water was beautiful.  About 70 degrees, relatively clear, lake water.  The buoys were set up in a triangle formation, square yellow buoys for sighting and then orange pyramids to turn around.  For the swim out, the buoys were very easy to see.  Once we made that first turn, we were swimming into the sun, and it took a while before I could see the buoys, though I was sighting well (four strokes, breathe, two, alligator eyes,  two, breathe), so I just followed the other swimmers, and that worked pretty well.  It was a relief, though to turn to the third leg, and be able to easily spot the buoys.  By that point, the wave behind us caught up with me - men, 40-44, I think, and about 300 meters from the end of the swim, one of them repeatedly grabbed at me, not just bumping into me, but actually holding on to my leg, etc.  So I kicked hard to get him off of me - well it worked, but also caused my right calf to cramp up pretty hard.  I was annoyed, but figured I'd finish the swim and see how I felt.

I surprised myself with my swim time.  While not particularly impressive, I thought I'd be even slower than I actually was.  T1 was slow- I took my sweet time drying my feet off, applying some more sunblock and (ahem) butt paste, and taking in some nutrition.  Then I was off.  The bike course was 56 miles of hills.  And turns.  Now I know what a technical course is.  Sharp turns, knowing when to accelerate and when to slow down, how to shift gears.  I was trying to figure it out, and being unsuccessful at it, when a few Terriers rode up, cheering me on.  Coach was at my back, yelling at me to down gear, telling me I was working the hill too hard.  So I listened.  Because my calf really hurt, I wasn't committed to finishing the bike course, but decided I should ride smart instead of hard (although there was really no escaping the hard on this course) - I really worked the flats and downhills, like Coach suggested, and downshifted heavily for the climbs, going slow, but trying not to work with my back.  It was tough going, and I set goals for my self - if I went to the half-way mark, I could quit, or once I got to the 40-mile mark I could.  In fact, at the 40 mile mark, I finally got off the bike at the aid station, used the john, stretched a little, and had a Gu. (Nutrition on the bike was definitely mediocre - I only took in about 400 calories during the almost 4 hours that I was riding. )  There were some ironic/lighthearted moments on the bike - like the 7 mile climb, where everyone is going so slowly that you could have conversations as you were passing, or being passed, or the relief of flying down hills at breakneck speed, but  last 3 miles were at a dead crawl.  There was a miserable hill near the end, just when I had enough of the bike.  Finally, I was off, and back in transition.

T2 was even slower than T1.  I did not want to continue, but also didn't want to quit.  I decided to give it a go, and see how my calf was feeling, and if necessary I could bail.  While being slow, though, it was time to eat my melted chocolate coconut and casava bar - gluten free and 210 calories, and then time to head out, in a slow jog.  Getting my legs under me was challenging - I was doing a pathetic job/ shuffle, and after 2 miles, I stopped and walked.  I knew there was no way I'd be able to run the course, or at least not all of it, so decided that I'd run what I could (the downhills and flats) and walk the climbs.  On the way, I discovered I wasn't the only one with that strategy.  Still, it sucked, but I didn't see as I had any choice if I wanted to finish.  My calf was shot, and there was no way I could run a half marathon on it.  So That's what I did - took my time, tried to hustle on the downhills, but stopped at each aid station, chatted and joked with the volunteers as I took in fluid and nutrition, and even a potty break, encouraged people who were running, and those that were walking to at least jog the descents.  All told, the run could have been much worse, but even with all my pathetic un-run-like behavior, I was averaging 11:26 minute miles.  By no means speedy, but it means that I ran more than I walked, which certainly wasn't what it felt like.

Crossing the finish line was a relief, and also anti-climactic.  I was so glad I hadn't dropped out, but so relieved that it was over, and already beating myself up for being so slow.  I really don't think of myself as a quitter, though there are many times when it's hard, and not something that I want to be doing in that moment.  There were so many points where quitting was exactly what I wanted to do - I was sure there was no way I could finish the race - I thought there was no way I had it in me.   Well that was true of my goal time, an absurdly unrealistic 6:00:xx, but once I adjusted my expectations for myself, allowed myself to slow down and keep my HR in a respectable place, and even (GASP!) walk long parts of the run course, it suddenly became doable instead of impossible.  I treated it like I treated my first sprint last year, where I walked long sections of the run.  (In fact, with last year's bike snafus, I'd wager that my average MPH was faster today than in that sprint!) - Less than a year ago, I had no qualms walking part of a 5k, and in fact I walked portions of every run I did in 2010, so why was it so impossible for me to do that today?

Yes, the course was hard and hilly.  It was obvious that I didn't properly prepare for it, but next time, I'll be ready.  And I discovered that I can complete a halfIM, and I'd wager that if I can, virtually anyone else can as well, if they want it badly enough.

Total time: 7:09:40
Swim: 42:07  (2:11/100m)
T1: 3:57
Bike: 3:48:11
T2: 5:36
Run: 2:29:48
AG: 47/54
OA 187/226

And for those interested in analyzing my splits, here they are.