My race strategy for the 2013 Bassman Triathlon (half distance) was pretty simple really: Swim hard. Bike hard. Run hard.
Simple, but not easy.
My coach Vince emailed me the day before the race, “Tear it up tomorrow!! Stay warm. Swim hard. Be strong on the bike and then try to hang on during the run… :).”
Gone were the carefully planned watts targets, the heart rate zones of previous races. While I would be using my fancy gadgets, watts or heart rate would not be the primary focus. My racing orders were to go as hard as I could. The numbers be damned!
Why?
Again, simple but not easy: I was going for the win for the first time ever in a race.
I knew, from the Twitterverse, that there were going to be some heavy-hitters at this race. I thought it would be a good opportunity to test myself against some solid competition for my official 2013 tri-season opener.
This race had some good, some bad and some ugly–as they all do. Here’s the breakdown in this month’s race report.
First: Stay warm.
Yeah, good luck with that part of the plan.
It was a cold morning, which is right in keeping with this being one of the cooler Spring seasons I can remember.
The thermometer read 46 degrees on race morning. It didn’t help that the race started about 30 minutes late, causing all of us to stand around like huddling penguins.
This is one of my major pet peeves with this particular race organization: in the 3 times I’ve done Bassman, the race has not started on time. And, it’s not only this race. We have clients that have raced other CityTri events, with similar issues. If you decide to do this race, keep that in mind – especially if you like to carefully time your nutrition, as I do.
After freezing for what seemed like an eternity, it was finally time to get into the water. While I thought this would make me feel colder, I actually warmed up when we got in the 61ish-degree water. John also poured warm water in my wetsuit, which we brought in a thermos, right before I got in. And, I supplied a bit of my own freshly made warm water. 🙂
I did a few strokes, made sure I got cold water on my face and in my suit to avoid shock, and it was time to start.
Second: Swim Hard
Boom. We were off.
I got kicked in the face no less than 3 times, one time flipping my goggles off my head. Sweet! That’s perfect prep for Lake Placid. Although, for a wave that had maybe 50 people in it, I was not expecting it.
Two loops around, and I swam a half-iron PR in 32:56. For a non-swimmer like me, this is pretty big news. (I can’t help thinking the course was short, though…)
T1 was a slow motion feature film. I spent a silly amount of time putting on socks, a jacket, a hat and so on. I also had considerable trouble getting my wetsuit off since my fingers were completely numb thanks to Raynaud’s. Nice. Perhaps some gloves would have been a good thought.
Next up: Be strong on the bike
Out on the bike, and immediately I felt the sting of cold penetrating my bones. My poor feet never had a chance. I couldn’t feel them throughout the entire ride–despite socks and neoprene toe covers.
It was windy in the Dirty Jerz, with 10-15 mph steady northeast wind. For those not familar, the northeast winds are BITTER when they come in. Directionally, it means that you are almost always riding in a head or cross wind.
We had about 5 minutes of tail wind. So we had that going for us. Which is nice.
Despite riding on roads I train on EVERY weekend, the cold had me a bit disoriented for the first 10-15 miles. I almost didn’t know where I was at one point. This made my first loop the slowest of the day. But after I warmed up a bit (I was never truly “warm”), I got to work. I increased my watts, and speed as a consequence, for each subsequent loop (there were a total of 3).
I rode a hard fought 2:50:32 into PITA winds, which brought with it the highest watts I’ve sustained for that duration. Ever. Even though it wasn’t my fastest bike, it was one of the hardest. Just goes to show: speed is affected by all sorts of things, and isn’t really the most reliable indicator of effort–even on a flat course like Bassman.
I got off the bike in what I thought was fourth place, but with so many different races and relays, it was hard to tell exactly. No matter. The bike isn’t my strength, and this was probably the best placement I’ve ever had coming off the bike.
In terms of race logistics, CityTri did a good job of marking the course with signs. There were several different races going on, with different loop configurations, yet I didn’t have a problem knowing where I was going at any point.
Where they messed up, in perhaps the most egregious error of the day, was the bottle exchange. The bike course was 3 loops. The website said there would be a bottle exchange for each loop. Yet, it was not set up after the first loop. I did the second loop of the bike without any fluids. Had it been advertised differently, I would have made different preparations on my bike.
While it was cold, I still need at least a bottle of water ever 45-60 minutes. I’m kind of high maintenance that way. The first year I did the race, they ran out of cups and gels on the run. Not acceptable. This is basic. Might I add that the entry fee is $200? It’s not chump change.
Last up: Try to hang on for the run
I feared that the hard bike would ruin my run. And, complicating issues was the fact that I still couldn’t feel my feet thanks to the cold. I trusted they were still attached to my ankles since I could see them when I looked down. When the feeling finally came back (in the final 10k of the run), I could feel that I had MONSTER blisters on the bottoms of my feet thanks to wet socks. Bonus!
Before the race, Vince predicted that I would likely run something in the 8:0X range. And, he added, “Prove me wrong.” That became my mantra.
After 6+ miles of splits reading 7:29, 7:24, 7:10, 7:12, 7:34, I had a feeling it was going to happen. I was going to prove him wrong unless I had a major meltdown.
As I came into the halfway mark, John yelled, “You are gaining on her – she’s only a minute ahead and she’s dying.”
“Yeah?” I replied. “Well, I’m not.” Cocky son of a gun, aren’t I? There’s something that changes in me once the race starts…
At that point, I didn’t know who “she” was – was she first place? Second place? Third place? No matter. I was going after her.
I managed to pass her a little over a mile or so after I saw John. The run course is about 30-40% trail, and there is one section of trail on an out and back section. I caught her there, and hoped that she wouldn’t come back on me. So, I dug a little deeper. I took some energy from the forest, from the trail, from the Earth. (Thank you!)
I didn’t see her again until she crossed the finish line a few minutes after me.
The run hurt, and I was doing better than simply hanging on at this point. Even still, I could feel that the bike may have knocked out my fifth gear, so I don’t think I ever got into top speed or top effort.
I hung on to manage a half marathon PR in 1:39:17. Please indulge my bragging as I emphasize that this is an all-time half marathon best. BA-BLAMMMM!!!! I swear, some of my best runs come after a long, hard bike. I guess I need the warm up 😉
I finished in 5:06, which is an 8 minute PR. I was stoked.
I was the third place female overall. Stoked again.
While I was going for the win, I know I came in third place to two great athletes, and I don’t feel bad about that at all.
I swam, biked, and ran my heart out. I don’t think I could have pushed a single moment of that race any harder than I did. Were there moments I wish I could have a redo? Sure. I’ll always second guess certain decisions, but hindsight truly is 20/20.
After years of racing both triathlon and running, it has become more and more clear to me that the shorter distance stuff is not my strength (in terms of going for the win). I’m just not very good at racing at my redline–it’s a limiter for me. And, if I wanted to race half iron distance exclusively, I would have to switch up my training. For now, I relish the ultra distance. I have a special talent for suffering for long periods of time just under my redline which is well suited to the Ironman event.
I stuck to my simple race plan, and I found that just because it was simple, it didn’t mean it would be easy. It wasn’t. I fought for every second of that race. And, I was proud to stand on the podium at the end of the day, next to the first place winner, who is a professional triathlete, and the second place winner, who is a Kona-finisher and genuine bada$$.
And, then there’s little old me. I enjoy the simple pleasure of not taking the easy way out.
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For those of you thinking about doing this race, I have one piece of advice: Don’t.
I think the race directors are super nice people, and I WANT this event to be a great affair, especially since it’s a scant 20 minutes from my house, and the timing is dang near perfect for an early season triathlon.
But, at this point, I will not do this race again, nor do I recommend it, especially given the registration cost of $200. If it were only $100, I might feel differently. I’ve done it 3 times. It’s always disorganized. It’s ridiculously expensive for what you get in the day. And, it never works out the way it’s described on the website or in the emails. I guess WTC has spoiled me. So be it.
I realize this may make me seem like an intolerable Tri-Princess. And, maybe that is true. But, it may also be true that after years of experience, I’ve learned what is an organized way to put on a race, and what isn’t. I can make choices about where I race, and sadly (very sadly) this is not a race I will choose again.
