9.5 Hours Later - Vineman 70.3 Race Report

As I rounded into the finish chute yesterday, I saw Sedonia jumping up and down with cartoon hands yelling, "You're smiling!!!"  I yelled to anyone who could hear, "because I'm so happy this is finally over!"  After it was all said and done she said, "Just think how much easier your life is going to be now."  Exactly!!!  I am so excited to have this behind me so I can focus on an even bigger event at the end of a September and a super fast implementation for the bicycle company at the beginning of November without feeling guilty about training.  Plus, as I mentioned in my last entry, I am excited to just "exercise" again and not "train" for several months.

Yesterday turned out ok.  Of course it was not what I intended when I registered last fall, still high on IM training, but at this point, it doesn't matter.  I am just so happy I finished (made possible by such an early swim wave).  My swim was awful.  While the Vineman swim is probably the easiest swim out there of all the races (because it is in waves and so shallow), I got stuck in the upstream current despite my best intentions to stay to the right.  I was too stubborn to turn right and get out of it.  I just kept thinking I was going to naturally get out of it.  "Oh a little bit more and it is the turnaround."  Except that it wasn't the turnaround.  It was the next buoy and then the next one and the next.  As a sidenote, aren't the orange buoys supposed to mean left turn???   The highlight of the swim was getting tapped on my shoulder and seeing Nick in the water (was in the wave 8 minutes behind me).  The lowlight of the day was that I was drafting off of a backstroker!  She literally backstroked the entire first half.  I walked at the turnaround because it was so shallow and was disappointed to see 28 minutes on my watch.  

All the people standing up and walking at the turnaround!

I swam directly with the current on the way back and made up some time as I got out at 51 minutes.  I was looking for 48 minutes.  Three minutes is nothing in the scope of a long day, and I should have reminded myself that.  But, it was a damper for the next hour.

I was going for a T1 PR and it did not happen.  There was mud everywhere!!!  The princess in me couldn't take it. I was slightly paralyzed by it.  I had to unravel my sliver of a towel so I could sit down on it and wipe my feet off so I could put blister shield on (for the run since T2 was 17 miles away).  And then my towel became community property as all the other girls around me asked if they could wipe their feet on it!  I was glad I packed 2 separate plastic bags to put my dry clothes in and the muddy stuff in and then threw the wetsuit in that bag and ran it over to the guys transporting the swim bags to the high school.  I ran toward the exit and saw Sedonia who said, "How was it?"  And I laughed, "Definitely not a PR."  I think my IMAZ T1 was faster and I actually changed my shorts then!  The guy next to her said, "at least you're smiling."  Yes.  Because that's all you can do, right?

I headed up the hill and saw Jen who said, "I'll take a picture for your blog!"  Thanks JJ!!!

The first 10 miles of the bike were rough road and really rough thoughts.  The little gremlins were there.  I kept asking myself, "Why are you doing this?"  I thought about quitting.  Several times.  And then I thought about how it was the first time I ever thought about quitting.  I was uncomfortably full of snot from a sinus infection that started last weekend.  

But the sun came out right about when I hit Dry Creek Road and everything just turned beautiful.  I rode past all the wineries we visited on last year's Victory Lap and thought of the awesome weekend with my friends.  And, from there on out, I was just going for a bike ride.  

I stopped at the aid station at Mile 18 to use the potty, blow my congested head, apply chafing cream (I don't normally ride this far in tri-shorts), and get more water.  The lowlight on the bike was accidentally eating an Aleve.  I threw 3 Aleve into my bento in case I needed it.  Not knowing there was an Aleve stuck to the Chomp, I bit through the pill.  Pieces of it were stuck in my teeth.  It burned my tongue.  It was just pure chemicals in my mouth.  And nothing would take that taste away.  The poor kid at the aid station saw my face, "are you ok?"  But I didn't have the energy to explain my idiocy to him.  I think it took 5 or 6 miles before the taste finally disappeared.  

The rest of the ride was great.  I had to stop again at Mile 38 to use the potty and deal with a slight bloody nose.  I think both Sedonia and Elise must have passed me while I was at the aid station.  From there I was on the home stretch and enjoyed the rest of the way to Chalk Hill.  Alicia rode by on the way to the climb.  A girl on the hill had a sign that said, "Smile, it hurts less."  And she was right.  The hill was over in no time and the last 12 miles flew by.  I did consciously dial back on my speed.  If I mashed too hard, I knew the run would be even worse.  I saw my Iron teammates as I came into town and saw Alicia again as she was starting her run.  I finished the bike in 4:21.  I expected 4:30 so I was happy with that. 

To even the field, those in the early waves had the furthest to run in T2.  I took my shoes off and ran all though T2, racked my bike, changed shoes, put on my hat and ran all the way out.  It was the first time I ever RAN in transition and it still took me 7 minutes.  Grr... 

I passed Phil, Jasmine, Jim, and Tyler on the run.  I teared up a little when I saw them as I didn't know they were coming up for the day (except for Phil who was our sherpa) and was so happy they were out there supporting us.   

My goal for the day was to race with integrity.  By the time I got to the run, I was in a lot of pain.  When I chose to walk at Lavaman, I made a conscious decision not to try.  Yesterday, I tried.  I kept myself honest. I ran up all of those hills 20 steps run/20 steps walk or sometimes 40 steps run/20 steps walk.  My run was very weak.  It had no bounce in it.  No spring.  I almost tripped multiple times because it was such a shuffle. The pain in my knees and IT band was the bad kind of pain.  Sister Madonna passed me around Mile 4 and I saw her again at Mile 8, which was awesome.  I saw Sedonia when she was around Mile 10 and a few minutes later Elise ran by.  By the time I got to La Crema, I knew I had plenty of time to make the cut off.  I made friends.  Someone needed my Bodyglide.  Someone else needed my salt pills.  Someone else asked for sunscreen.  All goodies I had in my pockets.  I carried everything with me knowing I was going to be out there for 9+ hours (yet I am still extremely sunburned today).  Coach Dave found me when I had half a mile left and ran with me for a few minutes and then ran ahead to let the others know I was coming in.  And, it must have been the same announcer as Tri for Fun because he said, "And now there's one less hill on the course, here comes Jennifer Hill!"  Oh goodness.  I yelled, "It's Jessica" and he said it again, correctly.  But I got a lot of "Congrats, Jennifer" from my silly friends.  

I am definitely not done with Vineman.  I can't commit to signing up again for next year yet, but Vineman 70.3 and/or Barb's Race is in my future at some point. Unlike training for Arizona where I put my time in the pain cave every week, I was not ready for this event.  My priorities changed and I was lucky I still had some base level of fitness from last year with some maintenance of this year.  I thought about how my longest workout in the past few months was 4 hours and yet I spent 9.5 hours out there yesterday and somehow managed to be happy for the least 8 hours of it.  I'd say that deserves its own medal!

Taking Endurance to a Whole New Level

Today, I need to introduce the five people that read this blog to Chris.  He's a fellow AKPsi'er, and has been hiking the Appalachian Trail for the past 4 months.  I was reading his latest post and these girl scouts told him he was amazing.  A lot of people think doing an Ironman is a great accomplishment.  I won't deny that.  But what about hiking 2184 miles from Georgia to Maine?  Now THAT is effing amazing! 

He's been on the trail for over 4 months, his new nickname is Tarzan, and he has less than 300 miles to go.  Imagine hiking almost a marathon every single day!  And having to bring 6000 calories and your shelter with you on your back.  No volunteers to hand you water bottles.  Although, through his posts I've learned about "trail magic" where locals or day-hikers leave food, beer, and soda for the thru-hikers.  He doesn't have Special Needs, but he does have designated places where he replenishes supplies with the help of his family and friends.  The DNF rate is 75%.  Only 1 in 4 will finish.

If you aren't familiar with the route, here's his introductory entry about the Trail.

http://hike2012.blogspot.com/2012/02/welcome-to-my-appalachian-trail-blog-i.html

Pretty darn amazing, huh?

To Vineman or Not to Vineman

It's a question I've been asking myself for at least 3 months.  Do I want to do it?  As I have said to a couple of people, there is a difference between being committed and being interested.  I was "committed" to IMAZ.  I  am "interested" in Vineman.  


One of the challenges of the Ironman sanctioned races is they sell out quickly.  You sign up 9-12 months in advance.  A lot can change in that time.  I signed up for Vineman not knowing I was going to get engaged or be planning a wedding.  That I was going to move.  And, that I was going to start traveling outside of California.  The way I look at it, every time I travel to Dallas or Minneapolis, it's anywhere between 16-20 hours of door to door travel each week.  Plus, I still have to put my 40 hours of work in on top of that 20 hours of travel. The 2 hour time change doesn't help.  


I'm not trying to make excuses.  But I have had to ask myself why it was so much harder this time.  And, the travel schedule and life changes are definitely part of the reason.  In addition, I never recovered from Ironman burn-out.  I know a lot of people just like to jump right into training for the next race.  But I want to go to Zumba and hip hop and yoga and join a gym again.  I'm tired of things like "2' @ Z3 and 30" @ Z4, RI 3'.  Repeat 5X).  To be fair, I really do enjoy my proscribed workouts.  I just am tired of the structure.


Realizing I'm burned out from the "structure" and not committed as I should be to training for this event, then what am I doing?  I'm being stubborn.  I'm caught up in having too much pride to not do something that I set out to do.  Nick keeps saying, "Vineman is always going to be there.  It will be there next year and the year after."  Coach Dave says the same thing.  But, I truly sat on the fence.  A straight 50/50 for so long.  Finally, Sedonia asked, "If you go there and just cheer us on, how will you feel?"  My answer was "disappointed."  Which pretty much told me I'll be putting on that wetsuit on Sunday morning.  


Vineman is in 6 days.  I can swim 1.2 miles.  I rode the course last month and the 56 mile bike was fine, although noticeably slower since I have lost strength/power.  But the run will be a challenge.  The whole day will be a challenge, no doubt, but the run will be part of the day where I ask myself why I bit off more than I could chew.  My friend Robin says, "The Half IM needs to be respected."  Yep!  And, I did not respect it.  At least I can admit it.


Yesterday, I took some time to write my race plan and my pre-race report.  I met with Coach Dave this afternoon and I have 2 goals -- a PR for T1 and T2!  I laughed out loud.  I guess since this is my first 70.3 it will technically be a PR in all 3 disciplines.  But in comparison to how much training I put in last year, it will not be my best day.  The other piece of advice he gave me was to think of this event as 10 hours.  Most people, including myself, have a time goal in mind for every race.  Personally, when I don't meet those goals, a little goblin takes over in my head spitting out negative thoughts.  Even for little Tri For Fun, I have a time I'm shooting for and at the point where I realize I'm not going to meet my goal, the little goblin starts to visit.  I didn't have the goblin so much at Ironman because all I cared about was midnight.  When Dave told me to just start knocking minutes off 10 hours, instead of shooting for 8 or 8.5 hours (and getting upset if I don't make those times) I thought he was a genius. 


"The die is cast"


"The pearl is in the river"


"What's done is done"


"Here goes nothing"


I am quite curious as to how the day is going to turn out.  The only way to find out is to do it.  

Couer d'Alene Video

Every Ironman has a story.  And every participant out there has a story.  Here is the official video from IMCDA highlighting just a few of those stories.  It's just under 30 minutes with the first 8 minutes focused mostly on the pros.  Then it gets into the age groupers.  Nick made the video around 13:50.  


The last five minutes is my favorite...