Monday, August 11, 2008

The Wheels Fell Off My Bus

Camp Pendleton Sprint Tri Race Report


First, the good things. They were few and far between, but I'm working on becoming an optimist so I have to address them first:
#1-- A few of my teammates were all there. I was not alone, and the company on the beach was fantastic.
#2-- Michellie Jones showed up and racked one bike away from us....next to our assistant coach, who even got to chat with her. I was a little jealous.
#3-- I didn't die.

Ok, that was about it for the positive list. So with that out of the way, the race kind of went something like this:

Pre-Race-- This was race #3 in a month for me. I've been altering the plan and only got one solid week of training in in between modified taper periods for each race. I thought I was all set to kick some booty, but the human body is a mysterious entity. Mine is just a pain in the butt.

Woke up at 4:30, grabbed my coffee and bagel, and headed out the door for an uneventful drive. Glad I hit the rest stop for the bathroom before I got on base, because it really did take a 1/2 hour to get to ACU-5, Home of the Swift Intruders. I parked on the runway, then went straight to the registration line where I got my chip, my cap, and my t-shirt. (I'm getting smart these days and getting them in sizes for my husband....Camp Pendleton t-shirts are in unwearable colors!) Transition was down a 1/4 mile ramp, completely inaccessible to spectators. So once I hurried down to transition and set up next to two other Divas, I called my husband to tell him about the situation and what to expect when he and the in-laws arrived.

My teammate wrote "Divas" in chalk next to our bikes--- I had totally made fun of her for it at the time, but after the race, I was really happy it was there! Saw Michellie and her blue and pink Felt. She rocks. Convinced my friend to take Sportlegs with me, then headed out to listen to the pre-race talk and then go to the beach.

The Swim -- I had done Santa Barbara and Pacific Coast last year, so I didn't think much of ocean swims, to tell you the truth. I thought I could handle everything. But something bizarre started happening with the waves before the men started their race.....they were hitting the shore at an angle, and it looked like they were continuing to break even as you approached the first buoy. Did I mention they started to get more frequent and slightly larger as well? At one point I looked at the girls, on the verge of tears, and said, "that's it. I'm moving, and I'm not going to do this race." They knew I was full of it, but really, didn't feel like I was that crazy at the time. I finally suited up and headed into the water because I had to pee. I dove under my first wave and decided that I could do this, so I headed up to shore and that's what I told everyone. No problem. This beeyotch is mine.
Oh, so wrong!

Apparently, I cannot read waves. I had no idea there was a rip current. For 47 minutes, I did not pay close enough attention to figure out where to swim to....I just chatted away talking about how scary it looked. How STUPID could I get??!!!

I decided to take the straightest line to the first buoy, and when they counted down to zero, I sprinted into the water determined to conquer this beast. I dove under the first wave that hit us and didn't even bother doing a freestyle stroke because the next wave was upon us. Dove under that one. Then I swam a few strokes and decided I could swim to the top of the next one....and then it threw me down into the trough and I had to continue swimming. I looked up, and there was a group of girls already to the first buoy....and then the rest of us stuck in this bizzarre and tumultuous limbo. I could not swim more than a few strokes before the next wave would come, and then I'd be paralyzed before I could decide what I was going to do with it. Swim? Dive under? Pray? I swallowed insane amounts of water.

When I realized the first buoy was not getting closer, I did start to panic a little bit. The rescue boat was in the water somewhere-- surely nobody would notice if I waived that cute little driver over to me and faked a cramp to get out of the water like the 7 other swimmers that were rescued that day?? Seriously, I'm moving....nobody will remember me..... I sucked it up and finished this swim, but it wasn't easy. I was out of breath for most of it because the sheer panic was difficult to handle, and I think I must have been swimming hard to fight whatever was sucking me back to shore as I tried to reach the first buoy.

(I know, the waves don't look like much, but trust me, it was torture from here on out!)
Once I was perpendicular to shore, I felt I had to swim harder....I passed quite a few girls here, then braced myself for the trip back to shore. I later learned that there was a rip current to the left of the yellow buoy, so the girls who started out swimming into the current had less waves to swim through and were actually sling-shotted around that first freaking buoy! So of course I was passing people at this point-- they were slower than you-know-what but WAY smarter than me.
On the return to shore, I think I just willed those waves to not hit me.....I was swimming in, looking over my shoulder and thinking, "please, I have been beaten up enough today. Please leave me alone!" It was sad and pathetic. I stood up as soon as I touched ground. I wanted out of that horrible ocean. I was cooked! To top it all off, I looked down at my watch and it said 13 minutes and change. I was devastated. I've never, ever swam that slow in my entire life, and it was so disheartening to think that now I had to make up all that time SOMEHOW. But I felt horrible....so sick. As I ran into transition, I really just wanted to cry. Why do I have to continue on? I should quit now because I feel so crappy.

T1: Oh, but I sucked it up and continued on. I didn't fuss too much in transition, but I was sort of in slow-mo because I was still shaking from the adrenaline of the swim. Shock is more like it, I think. I got out of my wetsuit, then used the transition mantra I read about online, "sock sock shoe shoe helmet glasses GO." Grabbed my bike and off I went. I did notice that the man in front of me was wearing a construction helmet with no chin strap, pushing a mountain bike. The marines were totally flummoxed, but they allowed him to continue. Maybe not USAT approved, but he certainly got points for creativity. (See, I did not make this up--- here he is in his construction helmet-- I was so out of it I thought I'd made that up until I saw this photo!)


Bike: Started out by getting passed by Michellie Jones straight out of transition. She is allowed to pass me with no ill will.....but did she have to do it so quickly? I got on my bike and followed her up the ramp, but she was up and over the overpass before I could even kick it into gear. A-ma-zing. Totally. Anyway, this didn't even inspire me. My legs were tired and I kept spitting saltwater off my bike. I knew I had to get my speed up, but I found it very difficult. I was even more pissed because at the Pendleton Olympic, I LOVED the bike and really wanted to scream to everyone who would listen how much fun I was having. But this day, there was no fun. I was hot, sweaty, and salty.....and SLOW. Man, what was going on?! I hit the turnaround and was too slow, so I really put myself in a world of hurt on the way back.

My one happy moment was when a man on a Cervelo tri bike came zooming past me.....I hung in his draft for 10 seconds or so, since I had 15 seconds to back off, and I FELT it for the first time ever. See, I never bought the whole peloton drafting thing until this time. Now I'm a believer....it was pretty sweet and I could feel how he was pulling me. Anyway, I backed down and watched him draft off a woman in front of me. Dudes are dirty drafters, for sure.


I negative split the way back, salvaging my bike and averaging 19.1 mph despite the heavy headwind on the return. Should have been in the 20's, but I'm maxed out at this speed on this course and I don't know why. Clocked the course at roughly 19 miles as well, as opposed to the advertised 18.

T2: Faster than T1. Decided to skip water and sunscreen. Just racked my bike, changed my shoes, and then grabbed my number and hat. Too bad we didn't have transition times in this race. They were the only thing I was pleased with.

The run: We had to run UP that dang hill to get out of the transition area and onto the run course. The mother in law yelling "faster, faster!" really did nothing for the general morale. The run itself wasn't too bad, though. Plenty of water stations, and some shade to be found in between buildings. I was still feeling like I had an upset stomach, but fortunately didn't have any cramping and never threw up. I never had the need to walk, but mentally I was over it. I started the run at 1:18 total. This was 10 minutes off the time I was hoping for, and I was pretty much fed up with the day. I watched helplessly as faster runners in my age group passed me in the last mile. Happens every time. I tried to run one of them down in the finish chute, but she had more in the tank and I ended up crossing 7 seconds behind her. In retrospect, I am very, very angry with myself. If I'd just kept moving forward instead of walking the aid stations, 4 of the girls in front of me would never have caught me. I was 1 minute away from breaking the top 10. In a San Diego race, that's never a bad thing. But no, I walked and got what was coming to me.

(Hey, at least I chicked a few dudes!)

So, compared to the afterglow of Pendleton Olympic and the successes of Danskin and Solana, I'm left feeling cranky and defeated. I've never felt so scared or useless in a swim before, and it really does mess with your brain when you are only 1/3 of the way through your race. It's a good reminder that triathlon is almost as much a mental sport as it is a physical one.


To top it all off, I am sunburned, exhausted, and sore all over. Even my sinuses are killing me thanks to all the water in them! It was a nightmare of a race, and I'm just amazed that I even finished it. Now, I have 2 more weeks to redeem myself and make Santa Barbara a success. I've got a lot of work to do.


Lessons Learned:
1. I am mere mortal, and in San Diego, I am slow.
2. 3 races in 4 weeks is NOT going to give you 3 peak performances. Sometimes your body does not fire.
3. The ocean is evil and should never be underestimated.
4. My brain is a bigger obstacle than my lack of running skills.
5. Don't bring in-laws to races where you might get sick on seawater and lose all will to compete. They will think you are just fat and out of shape.

4 comments:

Leah said...

I love your lessons learned. Very funny, but also worth remembering. Try not to give yourself such a hard time. Three races in a month is a LOT! And the ocean? A total crapshoot. Congrats on getting through it.

SixTwoThree said...

I feel for you with those waves! I would've reacted the exact same way. Sucked it up - and a lot of water too! Adrenaline overload for sure!!! Arghhh. At least now you'll have that excuse that you're from the mountains. I live 50 feet from the beach and am still a big chicken of the sea!!!

Andrew McAllister said...

Ouch. That reminds me of the day I was at a beach in Hawaii and a casual swimmer got caught in an outgoing current and had trouble making it back to the breakwater. Scary stuff.

Michelle said...

Awesome job! Way to overcome that swim. And I can tell those waves are no joke. Great job!