Solana Beach Triathlon ? 7/29/07
1/4 mile swim/9 mile bike/3 mile run.
Official Splits:
Swim: 0:19:59
Bike: 0:48:51
Run: 0:46:45
1:55:35
AG = DFL
OA = DNDFL (Darned Near DFL)
Estimated breakdown w/Transitions:
Swim (time in water): ~17
Swim Exit to T1: ~3
T1: ~8 min
Bike: 35:35
T2: ~3:45
Run: 46:00
The Really Freaking Long Version:
BACKSTORY
I?d never learned freestyle as a kid, but I?ve wanted to do triathlons for a couple of decades. My athletic progression has been a little derailed from time-to-time by work constraints. I got into cycling first and then running. I survived my first marathon in spring 2005. I did the Big Sur International marathon because I love the Central Coast, and I figured, worst case, there couldn?t be a more beautiful place to die.
I didn?t make the cut-off for ?official finishers? (then 5:30), but I got it done. Immediately after that, I ordered up the Total Immersion book and DVD and started working on swimming. A month out from Big Sur 2006, I sprained my ankle quite badly. Between the ankle and compensating shoulder issues, my swim training was slowed, and I had to push my entry for Nautica Malibu 2006 to 2007. Nautica Malibu (9/16) is my ?A race? this year. It?s the 21th anniversary year, and I think I?ve dreamed of one day doing it for most of those 21 years.
I?ve been focusing hard at the OW swimming the past 10 weeks or so? first in a harbor cove beach that?s a little protected, and more recently at the ocean. Though my comfort level has gone way up, I knew I wasn?t 100% relaxed with it since I still found it harder to manage my breath and keep going in the waves than in the pool.
I?d looked at the Solana Beach Triathlon. The distances sounded ideal for a newbie ? especially the 1/4 mile swim. When runnerparris mentioned her upcoming sprint in the thread about her sweet new bike, I couldn?t resist checking out the marine forecast. ?Less than 2 ft wind waves, with mixed swell of 2 ft.? I?d never seen such low numbers where I swim north of L.A. It was late Wednesday before I was able to reserve space to crash at a friend?s place.
Online registration closed early, but I found out there were 100 slots still available at pre-race check-in on Saturday. I figured I?d roll the dice that I?d get down there in time to grab one. Worst case, I?d volunteer. It should be a 2:40 ? 3 hr drive. The first 1:30 went as it should. The last 50 miles took another 2:30 ? 3:00 hours. And much of it was through a military base, so no hope of jumping off the freeway for a restroom or hydration. (And by then, I desperately needed the former since I started the drive with a good focus on latter.) I didn?t realize until I got down there that I was cooked both internally (dehydrated) and externally (sunburned through windshield).
By the time I got to registration, I was having trouble filling out forms... stumbling on tough questions like "name." Not a good way to spend your pre-race day. Registration was one of the only times I truly felt like I was racing, since there were others registering, and an unknown number of slots left. Luckily, I squeaked in at 1390 of 1400 slots. The elation at getting in was immediately replaced with horror, as they handed me a pink swim cap. Now, I know there are a lot of terrific, strong, powerful women here who embrace pink. I am not one of them. I hate pink. It?s like kryptonite to me. If I?d somehow found out before making the drive down, that yeah, I could be guaranteed a slot in the race, but I?d have to wear a pink swim cap ? I wouldn?t have made the trek. Having to wear a pink swim cap is more of a nightmare to me than drowning. (Probably the only thing worse would be to drown in a pink cap, and then be buried in a pink coffin complete with a silk pink lining.) From my admittedly skewed perspective, it seems inherently wrong to put someone registered as a 40+ Clyde in a pink wave. But luckily, a kind soul at another table clued me in that if you traded in that swim cap for a silver one, it would label you as being new to ocean swimming, and they'd keep an eye on you more. (The huge irony here being that silver is a much less visible color in open water.) While, at that point, I didn?t feel like I?d need the silver cap, if I could play by the rules AND get out of the pink swim cap, by all means, sign me up for the silver cap!
I got a look at the map for the bike and run -- both double-looped ovals on PCH. I was happy to hear it was a closed course. It was a little funny to be finding out everything last minute as I?d normally have everything scouted and studied far in advance.
Since I was sapped from the drive down, I scrapped the hope to swim and bike a little of the course, and instead went in search of runnerbee. I first looked for her at La Jolla Cove. The cove looked like a positively wondrous place to swim. It could?ve been just a calm day for that area, and I?m sure my POV from the bluff high above minimized any chop, but it looked very flat and inviting compared to the stuff I?ve been practicing in. (Ronbo, you MUST get down there on one of your trips!) My dehydrated brain eventually realized that runnerbee was really at La Jolla Shores, and managed to get over there in time to catch her just after she?d finished for the day. It was terrific to meet runnerbee, even if just for a quick hello. She clued me in that the rare and ugly ?black jellyfish? were out. I luckily haven?t run into any jellyfish yet. It?s usually too cold for them where I train. I?d never heard of a black jellyfish, so I was glad to at least be forewarned before coming across one in person. Between runnerbee and her friend who?s tapering to swim the Catalina channel soon, they put in about five more miles swimming that day, than I?d do in my entire sprint tri the next day. These Super Fish never fail to amaze me.
I went back to check out the beach for the swim. But there wasn?t a beach. Just a concrete ramp down to the water. The swim was a U-shaped course, so I figured it was high tide. Surely, there would have to be at least a little beach in the morning. The break was pretty substantial, with big enough waves that I decided I didn?t need to hang out looking at them too long. I told myself the ocean would be calmer in the morning. Runnerbee called later and kindly supported that hope, and reassured me that even if there were waves they?d likely be ?thin? ? which I took to mean they wouldn?t have much power behind them, so they?d be easier to get through than thick waves which might roll me over. (Yeah, I can read a lot into one little word.)
RACE DAY:
Up at 4 am for a breakfast of a Met2 shake, 1/2 a bagel w/PB, and coffee. I made it to the site and found a nice spot on the inside end of a bike rack. Speedy folks would be better served by an end slot, but I figured even if I did okay on the swim, most of the other bikes would be cleared out by the time I got to T1. With an inside end spot, I?d only have a neighbor on one side of me, and my gear could be walled off by my bike and a parking block on one side, and a curb on the other side. I set up my gear and felt like it was all in pretty decent order for a newbie and especially for doing this all so last minute. I hit the portpotty, and on the way back, scanned the racks looking for that little Cervelo P3 runnerparris just got. I?d posted a note to her thread that I was coming down, but I doubted she?d had a chance to see it. 1400 is a big crowd of bikes so I began to think the odds weren?t terrific that I?d spot her. When I arrived back at my rack, there was someone setting up in the slot next to me. I offered to slide my bike over a little if she needed more room, and then I saw her bike. A sweet little Cervelo P3. Our very own runnerparris was my new transition neighbor. Small world and even smaller transition area.
I had 1 GU before they kicked us out of transition. At the time, if felt like overkill for a sprint, but our wave time ended up being nearly 4 hours after breakfast, so probably a worthwhile precaution.
SWIM
We were in the 7th wave, 50 minutes after the start. (Note to self: next time bring some extra water out of transition.)
The waves weren?t the ?less than 2 ft, with mixed swell of 2 ft? from the forecast. We were looking at waves and swell of 4 to 5 ft that continued way beyond the break, and way beyond the buoys. A break of 4 to 5 ft would?ve been one thing, but it was a little disconcerting to watch a flotilla of swim caps going up a big swell/wave near the first turn buoy with room for four rows of heads and shoulders in the height space of one wave.
I did get in to check out the water (which was a very comfortable 72), but I decided against going past the break and back in. The waves were big enough that I could tell that doing that once wasn?t going to make the second time easier.
In training, I?ve had a hard time keeping going in OW. In the pool, I do okay with continuous yardage. But in OW, I had a tougher time managing air and I?d max out at about 125-150 yards straight. Though in my one lake swim, it was much less of an issue. I?d wanted to get to where I could do the distance continuous in the ocean before signing up, but I decided that doing one tri, even not-so-continuously, would be valuable prep (and I?d hoped a confidence builder) for Nautica Malibu. My plan was, that if I needed to stop, I?d take five deep breathes (four more than I might get at the end of a lane) and get going again.
As runnerparris mentioned, they have ?swim buddies? for this course. I?d never heard of such a thing. But they have wetsuit-clad volunteers who will swim alongside those less confident in the swim. I didn?t go looking for one, but since I was wearing the silver cap, one sought me out. They seemed to have plenty, so I figured it couldn?t hurt to have a little guidance through the break, which was my biggest worry. The break wasn?t fun, but it didn?t last long. I then tried to get into a rhythm, but I never got used to that feeling of free-falling headfirst down the back side of a wave. (Note to self: learn to think of this ?free speed? for the swim.) And though I've gotten used to seeing 2-3 foot walls of water closing in on me as I breathe, seeing these huge-arse waves looming over me was much more disconcerting. I didn't totally panic, but I never relaxed enough to catch my breath, so I stopped a lot to get a little air and try to calm the heck down. It didn?t take me long past the break to realize I?d be fine with having the company of my swim buddy (THANKS RYAN!) along for the duration. A couple times volunteers on surfboards offered a handhold to rest, but I?m way too buoyant in my wetsuit to need that. The best part of having a swim buddy, is that it meant I could get away with sighting less. He?d tell me I was veering off to the left (not good on a right-turn course), and he was able to be my rear-view mirror getting through the surf line at the exit. I was also able to get advice on where it was better to be in anticipation of the following wave of racers overtaking me (yep, go wide to the outside).
Toward the end the swim, I called an ?audible? and decided to strip my wetsuit as soon as I got out of the water. There was a 300 yard run to transition which included steep sixty-five foot ramp (about 12.5% grade) up from the beach. Not nearly as long as the notorious "sand ladder" of Escape from Alcatraz, but enough to send my heart rate through the roof enough that I actually stopped at the top of it and stood between some traffic cones off to the side to catch my breath and hope that a wave of nausea and would pass. I felt like an idiot, but I would have felt worse passing out.
T1
Pretty uneventful, though long. I sucked down a little Cytomax, geared up, turned on my Polar, and headed out.
BIKE
I haven?t been putting a ton of training time into the bike, since it?s the discipline I svck least at. This course was a mostly-flat double-loop. The north end did dip back down to almost sea level in what would?ve been a nice roller. But the free speed from that downhill was mostly scrapped at the u-turn at the bottom. As a result, the small climb back up felt like more that it would?ve normally. I focused on trying to apply jroden?s tips for free speed and keeping my cadence up. I passed a handful of folks and was passed by lots. My cyclometer mostly read in the 17-18 range on the flats, nicely over 30 on the downhill, then way back down to 13 or so for the uphill. I tried at one point to stand to power over the top of the hill, but after the swim fun, I just didn?t have it. So instead, I slid back on my seat to throw a little more power in that way. Toward the end the bike, my calves were starting to seize up ? probably a combo of the swim and the severe dehydration the day before. With the little time I?ve been putting in on the bike, I figured on a GREAT day I might?ve pulled out 17-18 average. I figured 15 would be closer to reality and, if I?ve estimated the transition times correctly (plucked from HRM data), that?s right where I landed.
Oh, and the road surface was pretty fresh blacktop. Not the super-sexy smooth stuff, but still quite nice. The traffic control was great? but being such a do-be, I was relieved when the light turned green before I hit it. It would?ve felt strange bike through a stop light.
T2
I racked my bike, dumped my helmet, switched shoes, put on my amphipod, grabbed my race number belt, and took my Polar off it?s mount and switched it over to the run setting. I took a few swipes at my calves with The Stick, but it wasn?t making much of a dent, so I headed to the run exit. As I did, one of the holes in my race number broke through so I redid it on the fly. Hopefully, this fix might have helped foil the photographers. I feel the same about pictures as I do about pink.
RUN
I?m not fast by nature, but my run pace after recovering from last year?s ankle injury has been abysmally slow. I was prepped for this split to be a PW (personal worst). My legs didn't loosen up on the run (slog) until 2 miles in. I included a few walk breaks, and otherwise just tried to get through it before they swept the course. My pace ended up being about 14 seconds per mile slower than my guess. And over a minute/mile slower than my last half marathon which was before the injury. More speed work will help this? dropping more weight will help it even more.
OVERALL:
Volunteer and crowd support was terrific. These folks put on a series of races in the San Diego area and they seem to do a professional job of it. The crowd had thinned out by the time I crossed the finished, but that?s how I like it. I heard they had a beer garden (they grow beer??) and pizza, but these don?t sound like great post-race foods for me, so I just headed back to transition. Runnerparris?s bike and mine were the only ones left on the rack. I was really glad I?d replaced my handlebar tape before the race, otherwise my bike would?ve been embarrassed to hang out with her purty P3.
EVALUATION:
My poor performance on the swim wasn?t about being a terrible swimmer or lack of swim endurance. It was all in my head. Though the waves were big, they didn?t really interfere with breathing like chop would. Ironically, I think I could?ve dealt with chop better because I have more experience in it. Even though this was my first tri, and it?s been a very long time in coming, I didn?t have any ?woo hoo? elation over getting it done. The way it came up last minute, not many folks knew I was doing it, and afterwards, I didn?t really feel like calling or emailing anyone to say, ?Yay, I did my first tri!? Coming from where I started, I knew it was a good accomplishment. But I was mostly disappointed and disheartened by the swim. I?ve seen the swim at Nautica Malibu and the break can be pretty huge. Supposedly, it?s usually flat there beyond the break. But I know I can?t count on that. The swim is twice as long and there are no swim buddies. And frankly, as handy as it was to have company this weekend, I know I won?t feel good about any tri done with a swim buddy.
Instead of any post race celebration, I quickly shifted to trying to figure out how I can get more time in the ocean. (Y?know, when I wasn?t muttering ?Man, those waves were BIG? over and over.) While I?ll certainly hope for calmer conditions at Nautica Malibu, I know I need to prepare for rougher ones. OW swimming is mostly a weekend possibility for me, so I need to start getting out there on Saturday and Sunday. I?ll probably allow myself at least one day next weekend at a milder beach, but I need to seek out rougher conditions and somehow switch my brain around to find the fun in playing in the waves. It would also probably do me good to spend a little time boogie boarding or body surfing to get more comfortable in the surfline. And I?ll make a point of getting multiple swims in at Zuma (the beach for Nautica Malibu). Even if the water ends up being rough, hopefully, some experience in those exact waters will add to a level of comfort.
Six weeks isn?t much time for a brain re-wiring, but I?m up for the challenge.
Thanks for all the great tips and support!
Barb
http://This message has been edited by triandstopme (edited Jul-31-2007).
1/4 mile swim/9 mile bike/3 mile run.
Official Splits:
Swim: 0:19:59
Bike: 0:48:51
Run: 0:46:45
1:55:35
AG = DFL
OA = DNDFL (Darned Near DFL)
Estimated breakdown w/Transitions:
Swim (time in water): ~17
Swim Exit to T1: ~3
T1: ~8 min
Bike: 35:35
T2: ~3:45
Run: 46:00
The Really Freaking Long Version:
BACKSTORY
I?d never learned freestyle as a kid, but I?ve wanted to do triathlons for a couple of decades. My athletic progression has been a little derailed from time-to-time by work constraints. I got into cycling first and then running. I survived my first marathon in spring 2005. I did the Big Sur International marathon because I love the Central Coast, and I figured, worst case, there couldn?t be a more beautiful place to die.
I didn?t make the cut-off for ?official finishers? (then 5:30), but I got it done. Immediately after that, I ordered up the Total Immersion book and DVD and started working on swimming. A month out from Big Sur 2006, I sprained my ankle quite badly. Between the ankle and compensating shoulder issues, my swim training was slowed, and I had to push my entry for Nautica Malibu 2006 to 2007. Nautica Malibu (9/16) is my ?A race? this year. It?s the 21th anniversary year, and I think I?ve dreamed of one day doing it for most of those 21 years. I?ve been focusing hard at the OW swimming the past 10 weeks or so? first in a harbor cove beach that?s a little protected, and more recently at the ocean. Though my comfort level has gone way up, I knew I wasn?t 100% relaxed with it since I still found it harder to manage my breath and keep going in the waves than in the pool.
I?d looked at the Solana Beach Triathlon. The distances sounded ideal for a newbie ? especially the 1/4 mile swim. When runnerparris mentioned her upcoming sprint in the thread about her sweet new bike, I couldn?t resist checking out the marine forecast. ?Less than 2 ft wind waves, with mixed swell of 2 ft.? I?d never seen such low numbers where I swim north of L.A. It was late Wednesday before I was able to reserve space to crash at a friend?s place.
Online registration closed early, but I found out there were 100 slots still available at pre-race check-in on Saturday. I figured I?d roll the dice that I?d get down there in time to grab one. Worst case, I?d volunteer. It should be a 2:40 ? 3 hr drive. The first 1:30 went as it should. The last 50 miles took another 2:30 ? 3:00 hours. And much of it was through a military base, so no hope of jumping off the freeway for a restroom or hydration. (And by then, I desperately needed the former since I started the drive with a good focus on latter.) I didn?t realize until I got down there that I was cooked both internally (dehydrated) and externally (sunburned through windshield).
By the time I got to registration, I was having trouble filling out forms... stumbling on tough questions like "name." Not a good way to spend your pre-race day. Registration was one of the only times I truly felt like I was racing, since there were others registering, and an unknown number of slots left. Luckily, I squeaked in at 1390 of 1400 slots. The elation at getting in was immediately replaced with horror, as they handed me a pink swim cap. Now, I know there are a lot of terrific, strong, powerful women here who embrace pink. I am not one of them. I hate pink. It?s like kryptonite to me. If I?d somehow found out before making the drive down, that yeah, I could be guaranteed a slot in the race, but I?d have to wear a pink swim cap ? I wouldn?t have made the trek. Having to wear a pink swim cap is more of a nightmare to me than drowning. (Probably the only thing worse would be to drown in a pink cap, and then be buried in a pink coffin complete with a silk pink lining.) From my admittedly skewed perspective, it seems inherently wrong to put someone registered as a 40+ Clyde in a pink wave. But luckily, a kind soul at another table clued me in that if you traded in that swim cap for a silver one, it would label you as being new to ocean swimming, and they'd keep an eye on you more. (The huge irony here being that silver is a much less visible color in open water.) While, at that point, I didn?t feel like I?d need the silver cap, if I could play by the rules AND get out of the pink swim cap, by all means, sign me up for the silver cap!
I got a look at the map for the bike and run -- both double-looped ovals on PCH. I was happy to hear it was a closed course. It was a little funny to be finding out everything last minute as I?d normally have everything scouted and studied far in advance.
Since I was sapped from the drive down, I scrapped the hope to swim and bike a little of the course, and instead went in search of runnerbee. I first looked for her at La Jolla Cove. The cove looked like a positively wondrous place to swim. It could?ve been just a calm day for that area, and I?m sure my POV from the bluff high above minimized any chop, but it looked very flat and inviting compared to the stuff I?ve been practicing in. (Ronbo, you MUST get down there on one of your trips!) My dehydrated brain eventually realized that runnerbee was really at La Jolla Shores, and managed to get over there in time to catch her just after she?d finished for the day. It was terrific to meet runnerbee, even if just for a quick hello. She clued me in that the rare and ugly ?black jellyfish? were out. I luckily haven?t run into any jellyfish yet. It?s usually too cold for them where I train. I?d never heard of a black jellyfish, so I was glad to at least be forewarned before coming across one in person. Between runnerbee and her friend who?s tapering to swim the Catalina channel soon, they put in about five more miles swimming that day, than I?d do in my entire sprint tri the next day. These Super Fish never fail to amaze me.
I went back to check out the beach for the swim. But there wasn?t a beach. Just a concrete ramp down to the water. The swim was a U-shaped course, so I figured it was high tide. Surely, there would have to be at least a little beach in the morning. The break was pretty substantial, with big enough waves that I decided I didn?t need to hang out looking at them too long. I told myself the ocean would be calmer in the morning. Runnerbee called later and kindly supported that hope, and reassured me that even if there were waves they?d likely be ?thin? ? which I took to mean they wouldn?t have much power behind them, so they?d be easier to get through than thick waves which might roll me over. (Yeah, I can read a lot into one little word.)
RACE DAY:
Up at 4 am for a breakfast of a Met2 shake, 1/2 a bagel w/PB, and coffee. I made it to the site and found a nice spot on the inside end of a bike rack. Speedy folks would be better served by an end slot, but I figured even if I did okay on the swim, most of the other bikes would be cleared out by the time I got to T1. With an inside end spot, I?d only have a neighbor on one side of me, and my gear could be walled off by my bike and a parking block on one side, and a curb on the other side. I set up my gear and felt like it was all in pretty decent order for a newbie and especially for doing this all so last minute. I hit the portpotty, and on the way back, scanned the racks looking for that little Cervelo P3 runnerparris just got. I?d posted a note to her thread that I was coming down, but I doubted she?d had a chance to see it. 1400 is a big crowd of bikes so I began to think the odds weren?t terrific that I?d spot her. When I arrived back at my rack, there was someone setting up in the slot next to me. I offered to slide my bike over a little if she needed more room, and then I saw her bike. A sweet little Cervelo P3. Our very own runnerparris was my new transition neighbor. Small world and even smaller transition area.
I had 1 GU before they kicked us out of transition. At the time, if felt like overkill for a sprint, but our wave time ended up being nearly 4 hours after breakfast, so probably a worthwhile precaution.
SWIM
We were in the 7th wave, 50 minutes after the start. (Note to self: next time bring some extra water out of transition.)
The waves weren?t the ?less than 2 ft, with mixed swell of 2 ft? from the forecast. We were looking at waves and swell of 4 to 5 ft that continued way beyond the break, and way beyond the buoys. A break of 4 to 5 ft would?ve been one thing, but it was a little disconcerting to watch a flotilla of swim caps going up a big swell/wave near the first turn buoy with room for four rows of heads and shoulders in the height space of one wave.
I did get in to check out the water (which was a very comfortable 72), but I decided against going past the break and back in. The waves were big enough that I could tell that doing that once wasn?t going to make the second time easier.
In training, I?ve had a hard time keeping going in OW. In the pool, I do okay with continuous yardage. But in OW, I had a tougher time managing air and I?d max out at about 125-150 yards straight. Though in my one lake swim, it was much less of an issue. I?d wanted to get to where I could do the distance continuous in the ocean before signing up, but I decided that doing one tri, even not-so-continuously, would be valuable prep (and I?d hoped a confidence builder) for Nautica Malibu. My plan was, that if I needed to stop, I?d take five deep breathes (four more than I might get at the end of a lane) and get going again.
As runnerparris mentioned, they have ?swim buddies? for this course. I?d never heard of such a thing. But they have wetsuit-clad volunteers who will swim alongside those less confident in the swim. I didn?t go looking for one, but since I was wearing the silver cap, one sought me out. They seemed to have plenty, so I figured it couldn?t hurt to have a little guidance through the break, which was my biggest worry. The break wasn?t fun, but it didn?t last long. I then tried to get into a rhythm, but I never got used to that feeling of free-falling headfirst down the back side of a wave. (Note to self: learn to think of this ?free speed? for the swim.) And though I've gotten used to seeing 2-3 foot walls of water closing in on me as I breathe, seeing these huge-arse waves looming over me was much more disconcerting. I didn't totally panic, but I never relaxed enough to catch my breath, so I stopped a lot to get a little air and try to calm the heck down. It didn?t take me long past the break to realize I?d be fine with having the company of my swim buddy (THANKS RYAN!) along for the duration. A couple times volunteers on surfboards offered a handhold to rest, but I?m way too buoyant in my wetsuit to need that. The best part of having a swim buddy, is that it meant I could get away with sighting less. He?d tell me I was veering off to the left (not good on a right-turn course), and he was able to be my rear-view mirror getting through the surf line at the exit. I was also able to get advice on where it was better to be in anticipation of the following wave of racers overtaking me (yep, go wide to the outside).
Toward the end the swim, I called an ?audible? and decided to strip my wetsuit as soon as I got out of the water. There was a 300 yard run to transition which included steep sixty-five foot ramp (about 12.5% grade) up from the beach. Not nearly as long as the notorious "sand ladder" of Escape from Alcatraz, but enough to send my heart rate through the roof enough that I actually stopped at the top of it and stood between some traffic cones off to the side to catch my breath and hope that a wave of nausea and would pass. I felt like an idiot, but I would have felt worse passing out.
T1
Pretty uneventful, though long. I sucked down a little Cytomax, geared up, turned on my Polar, and headed out.
BIKE
I haven?t been putting a ton of training time into the bike, since it?s the discipline I svck least at. This course was a mostly-flat double-loop. The north end did dip back down to almost sea level in what would?ve been a nice roller. But the free speed from that downhill was mostly scrapped at the u-turn at the bottom. As a result, the small climb back up felt like more that it would?ve normally. I focused on trying to apply jroden?s tips for free speed and keeping my cadence up. I passed a handful of folks and was passed by lots. My cyclometer mostly read in the 17-18 range on the flats, nicely over 30 on the downhill, then way back down to 13 or so for the uphill. I tried at one point to stand to power over the top of the hill, but after the swim fun, I just didn?t have it. So instead, I slid back on my seat to throw a little more power in that way. Toward the end the bike, my calves were starting to seize up ? probably a combo of the swim and the severe dehydration the day before. With the little time I?ve been putting in on the bike, I figured on a GREAT day I might?ve pulled out 17-18 average. I figured 15 would be closer to reality and, if I?ve estimated the transition times correctly (plucked from HRM data), that?s right where I landed.
Oh, and the road surface was pretty fresh blacktop. Not the super-sexy smooth stuff, but still quite nice. The traffic control was great? but being such a do-be, I was relieved when the light turned green before I hit it. It would?ve felt strange bike through a stop light.
T2
I racked my bike, dumped my helmet, switched shoes, put on my amphipod, grabbed my race number belt, and took my Polar off it?s mount and switched it over to the run setting. I took a few swipes at my calves with The Stick, but it wasn?t making much of a dent, so I headed to the run exit. As I did, one of the holes in my race number broke through so I redid it on the fly. Hopefully, this fix might have helped foil the photographers. I feel the same about pictures as I do about pink.
RUN
I?m not fast by nature, but my run pace after recovering from last year?s ankle injury has been abysmally slow. I was prepped for this split to be a PW (personal worst). My legs didn't loosen up on the run (slog) until 2 miles in. I included a few walk breaks, and otherwise just tried to get through it before they swept the course. My pace ended up being about 14 seconds per mile slower than my guess. And over a minute/mile slower than my last half marathon which was before the injury. More speed work will help this? dropping more weight will help it even more.
OVERALL:
Volunteer and crowd support was terrific. These folks put on a series of races in the San Diego area and they seem to do a professional job of it. The crowd had thinned out by the time I crossed the finished, but that?s how I like it. I heard they had a beer garden (they grow beer??) and pizza, but these don?t sound like great post-race foods for me, so I just headed back to transition. Runnerparris?s bike and mine were the only ones left on the rack. I was really glad I?d replaced my handlebar tape before the race, otherwise my bike would?ve been embarrassed to hang out with her purty P3.
EVALUATION:
My poor performance on the swim wasn?t about being a terrible swimmer or lack of swim endurance. It was all in my head. Though the waves were big, they didn?t really interfere with breathing like chop would. Ironically, I think I could?ve dealt with chop better because I have more experience in it. Even though this was my first tri, and it?s been a very long time in coming, I didn?t have any ?woo hoo? elation over getting it done. The way it came up last minute, not many folks knew I was doing it, and afterwards, I didn?t really feel like calling or emailing anyone to say, ?Yay, I did my first tri!? Coming from where I started, I knew it was a good accomplishment. But I was mostly disappointed and disheartened by the swim. I?ve seen the swim at Nautica Malibu and the break can be pretty huge. Supposedly, it?s usually flat there beyond the break. But I know I can?t count on that. The swim is twice as long and there are no swim buddies. And frankly, as handy as it was to have company this weekend, I know I won?t feel good about any tri done with a swim buddy.
Instead of any post race celebration, I quickly shifted to trying to figure out how I can get more time in the ocean. (Y?know, when I wasn?t muttering ?Man, those waves were BIG? over and over.) While I?ll certainly hope for calmer conditions at Nautica Malibu, I know I need to prepare for rougher ones. OW swimming is mostly a weekend possibility for me, so I need to start getting out there on Saturday and Sunday. I?ll probably allow myself at least one day next weekend at a milder beach, but I need to seek out rougher conditions and somehow switch my brain around to find the fun in playing in the waves. It would also probably do me good to spend a little time boogie boarding or body surfing to get more comfortable in the surfline. And I?ll make a point of getting multiple swims in at Zuma (the beach for Nautica Malibu). Even if the water ends up being rough, hopefully, some experience in those exact waters will add to a level of comfort.
Six weeks isn?t much time for a brain re-wiring, but I?m up for the challenge.
Thanks for all the great tips and support!
Barb
http://This message has been edited by triandstopme (edited Jul-31-2007).
I really would try to hook up with some like-minded folks and try to get some group swims going, it is a WORLD of difference and you can learn stuff too. Plus, it's adds an element of safety. You guys have ugly-black-jellyfish after all! (Ok, I've never freakin heard of a black jellyfish but I trust runnerbee!)
