(No) Room for Doubt: Lake Raystown Triathlon Race Report

Doubt is a stubborn presence. While I’ve worked hard physically, mentally and emotionally to keep my doubting voices quiet, they are persistent. I’ve learned that I need to be more persistent, more stubborn than the doubt. I have the Lake Raystown Triathlon to thank for this important reminder:

The mental work of endurance is harder than the physical work. 

lake raystown triathlon
Overview of the swim at Lake Raystown.

John and I were looking for an early season half iron race with plenty of hills, which is hard to find in the Northeast U.S. given the cool spring temps. But, the inaugural Lake Raystown Triathlon, held on May 18, 2014, seemed to meet our needs for an Ironman Couer d’Alene prep-race, featuring hills, challenge, and a new adventure.

Fierce Bits 

After finding a place for my gear in the first-come, first-served transition area, I placed my bike on the rack, and as usual, the front tire swung in mid-air, several inches from any hope of touching the ground. I put my transition bag underneath the front tire so it wouldn’t swing into someone else’s bike.

Lake Raystown triathlon
John and I getting ready in transition before the race. Just when you think you might look cool, just get a look at your butt in a wetsuit.

The other racers around me laughed. “That’s a mini-bike.”

“Yeah,” I laughed. “I’m a little bit. My bike never makes it to the ground.”

One of the women said, “Though she be but little, she is fierce.” You can always count on Shakespeare, can’t you?

I smiled. I appreciated the support, but I wasn’t feeling particularly fierce. The stubborn presence of doubt was hawking over me, as much as I tried to push it away.

My mind was murky with questions and concerns about the unknowns, making it hard to focus on my race plan.

The lake was cold, just like CDA will be. How will I do in the cold water? What if I panic?

How tricky would the bike course be? The day before, other racers who had driven the bike course were buzzing with rumors and reports: lots of hills, technical turns, blazing descents with hairpin turns at the end.

Ooooh. Pinch me!

It had been a while since I felt doubts like these, and I had to work to keep the fear from overcoming my thoughts. As I set myself up in transition, I re-routed my thinking to consider the positive possibilities of a new experience. But those doubts didn’t leave me completely.

The Swim 

The morning was chilly, with air temps in the 40s, and the water temp in the low 60s. Yup – perfect IMCDA prep.

As we waited for the start, I had put my wetsuit on early to help keep me warm, along with socks, a pair of Uggs, and a jacket. That did the trick to keep my core warm. Once you get a chill, it won’t leave.

The race was an in-water start, and with only about 30 or so of us, it was the smallest swim wave I’ve ever been in. I felt like a pro.

As we entered the water, I was sure to splash the water on my face, pour it into my wetsuit, and take a few practice strokes. I find the hardest part of the cold water is the initial shock, so it’s important to let the body adjust a bit to avoid panic from cold water on top of the usual hectic frenzy of a swim start.

Initial shock absorbed, it was time to start.

Lake Raystown Triathlon
The half iron swim start.

The swim was a clockwise oblong-ish triangle-rectangle, in clear water with ample buoys for sighting. I didn’t have much trouble adjusting to the cold water at all, but the neoprene cap I was trying for the first time wasn’t my favorite (nothing new on race day, right? hahahaha!). I had a moment of claustrophobic doubt from the strap that goes under your chin. I took a moment to pull it out and let my twinge of panic subside. I’ve learned not to fight the tentacles of panic. You need to just calmly swim away from them.

By eye, the swim course seemed a little short, by my Garmin, it measured short, and judging by my time (29 minutes), it was definitely short. But, the time is on the internet, so it must be right. 😉

The Bike

The race website puts the total elevation of the bike course at about 2000 feet, which wouldn’t be the hilliest ride ever, but also not a flat jaunt. But – and this is a very important “but” – the stated elevation gain is incorrect. It’s actually double. Plus another 900 feet. For the math-challenged, that’s 4,900 feet of climbing. Now, that’s a hilly bike.

As it turns out, the Lake Raystown Triathlon is indeed the hilliest 56 miles I’ve ever ridden.

Lesson #1: Be careful what you wish for.

Here’s the elevation profile from my Garmin Edge 500:

Screen shot 2014-05-21 at 7.46.18 AM

Overall, the course consistently rolls, with several sharp, steep climbs and sharp steep descents to match. It’s also somewhat technical in terms of twisty-turny descents that require full focus – including one hairpin turn somewhere around mile 14 or so. As you can see from the elevation profile, the course can be divided into sections of general trends of climbing, and general trends of descending. But, again, within these sections, the course rolls – so you are constantly shifting.

It’s not a great course if you are have any type of mechanical issues with your bike, which I was. I dropped my chain a grand total of four times – and after that fourth time, I was so scared to shift between the big and small ring, that I just kept it in the little gear in the front, which was not optimal. I lost a lot of time from the chain drops, and a lot of time from not being geared appropriately in the final 10-12 miles.

As I rode, I was so worried the drops had something to do with operator error. How am I going to make it through IMCDA if I can’t shift? But, then I realized: Um, this isn’t your first hilly course, sister. There must be something wrong with the bike. Turns out, that’s true. (After the race, my LBS said the small ring was actually bent – my guess that happened when I traveled to Florida for the Intimidator. Thank you kindly, TSA!)

Lesson #2: Tune-ups after a long winter on the trainer are not overrated.

That’s one to grow on, kids.Screen shot 2014-06-02 at 11.30.15 AM

Back to the race.

The first 4 miles are a general trend of fairly challenging climbing. You start at 800 feet, and end up at 1300 feet by the end of that first 4 mile stretch. Then, the course rolls onward until a little after mile 11. At this point, you climb from a little over 1,100 feet to a little over 1,600 feet by mile 14. So, yeah, 3 miles of steady getting it upward.

Given this profile, the first 14 miles are slow going. (On the map, the first 14 miles are the single line – or the “stick” of the rectangle-lollipop.)

It was such slow going. I tried to keep it from affecting my thinking, but the doubts were getting pushy and loud. How would I ever be able to hit my goal at CDA if I’m going this slow on only 2,000 feet of gain? What have I done? How can I be this ill-prepared? 

My brain was falling off the rails, and I know better! I really should have been tuning into my power – which was strong. I was holding watts that I’ve never held in a half iron distance race before. That should have been a BIG clue that the hills were alive with the sound of suffering.

Thankfully, what goes up, must go down. And, down you go for the next 10 miles. (At the beginning of this, you turn left on to the “lollipop” portion of the course.)

The general trend is down, but there’s still some rollers to climb, and to shift into, and to drop your chain on.

Have I mentioned you should get a bike tune up in the early spring? No? Well, you should. Do as I say, not as I do.

What goes down, also does go all the way back up again. So, about halfway through the bike, it’s time to climb back up. (At this point, you are headed back down the other side of the “lollipop”.)

Given that there were only 30 people in the half iron, most of the ride was lonely, which is fine by me. Even so, it’s nice to have a rabbit or two to keep your head in the game. But, the course itself was beautiful and scenic. I had plenty of time to enjoy it as I climbed, slowly, slowly, slowly.

By the time I made my way back to the transition area, I was frustrated and completely disappointed by my slow bike split (3:20). Wow. That is waaaaayyyy off the mark of what I hope to do at IMCDA. I knew I lost time from the chain shenanigans, but still. Ugh.

Through the glory that is data analysis, I realize that I climbed almost as much in 56 miles as I will do in 112 miles. Naturally, I feel a little bit better. That’s a powerful retort to the doubting voices.

The Run

Coming off that hard bike, I was unsure how my legs would respond. There could be no doubt that those hills took a bite out of me. But, I still had legs to move. The run elevation featured about 900-1,000 feet of climbing across the 13.1 miles (depending on whether you go with my Garmin 910 or John’s Garmin 310).

Lake Raystown Triathlon

As I crossed the timing mat out of transition, I was the fourth place female. I knew third place was only a few minutes ahead of me, and I saw third place about one mile into the run as I was about one mile away from transition. So, I figured she had about 2 miles on me by the time I started my run.

I said to myself, Believe in the run. 

It was now getting warm, and the opening hills on the run just felt.so.hard. My pace was slower than goal, but I knew redlining the hills was not the strategy for me. Best to conserve my energy and bomb the downhills.

This strategy paid off as I passed a woman to take third place. I hate to pass people without saying anything, so I said, “Awesome work, mama!” And, she replied in kind. As with the race I did in Florida, all of the competitors were friendly and supportive of each other. I really love it when the desire for competition doesn’t get in the way of supporting each other.

At the 5k mark, I saw the first two males coming back the other way from the turnaround (which was at the 10k mark of the run). They looked like they were pretty beat up too. At that moment I realized, everyone must have had a slow bike. For me to be seeing these guys now, they couldn’t have been that far ahead of me either.

Take that, doubt! 

Then, a few minutes later I saw John. I held up 3 fingers to him, and he did the same back to me. We were both in third place. Awwww, TWINSIES! John looked to me like he was running strong – he definitely looked fresher and stronger than the guys in first and second place.

He just might catch them, I thought.

Lake Raystown Triathlon
Pushing for the finish line.

Then, I thought, Now, can I catch second and first place? 

As I was somewhere between mile 4 and 5, I saw the first place woman. Damn, she’s running good! I thought.

“Nice work, mama!” I said to her. And, she replied, “Looking strong!”

Now, where is second place? 

I kept running, getting closer and closer to the turnaround without seeing her. Then, when I was about a half of a mile (maybe a little less) from the turnaround, I saw her.

We gave each other words of support – again, so happy to be in the field with women who are such positive displays of sports(wo)manlike conduct.

I thought it was possible to catch her, but I’d have to keep on the effort and even kick it up a bit. So, that’s what I did. The effort felt so hard, and I can’t remember a race that I’ve done when I wanted to stop or slow down as much as I wanted to in this race.

The voices would taunt, Oh, just slow down. It’s not worth it. 

But, something inside of me just wouldn’t give in. And, at a moment when I almost broke, a butterfly came and flew right into my slightly cupped hand. It stayed there for about 30 seconds, running with me. It was incredible! I could feel it’s wings flapping my palms, and, I knew I couldn’t quit. The butterfly, a remembrance of my father, gave me the strength to keep the heat on.

Originally, I had wanted to win this race. A lofty and presumptuous goal, I realize. But, that’s what I wanted. Even if first place was out of reach, I was going to go as hard as I could until I got to the finish line.

The course had some turns and twists that made it hard to see much more than a quarter mile ahead at most points, so I didn’t see the third place woman for a while. Then, just as the course made a right hand turn into the Lake Raystown resort area, I saw her – maybe a quarter of a mile ahead of me. As she made that turn, there were about 3 miles left to the race.

It gave me just the motivation I needed. If I can see her, I can catch her. I was hurting so much, but I thought, If I don’t catch her, Vince [my coach] will never let me hear the end of it! 

Fear of the coach kept me moving.

At this point, the course undulated and turned, so I lost sight of her for a while. In the final mile of the race, the course takes a turn up a short but steep hill, as I got to the top, I saw her. She was right there. I knew that there was a downhill into the finish line, and I planned to use that to catch her.

John and I with our matchy-matchy lumber. He was 3rd overall, 1st place AG. I was 2nd female OA, 5th place OA, and 1st place AG.
John and I with our matchy-matchy lumber. He was 3rd overall, 1st place AG. I was 2nd female OA, 5th place OA, and 1st place AG.

This downhill portion was in a wooded area, and then it opened up to the final 400 yards of the race. She popped out of the woods first. John was talking with her husband, who said, “Oh! There’s my wife.”

And, then not 10 seconds later, I spoiled the celebration, as I came flying out of the woods. John replied, “And, that’s my wife.”

I ran as hard as I could until the finish line, as I had no idea if she would have a return kick or not. Holy. Crap.

Was that my heart about to explode, or what?

I crossed the finish line and turned around – she was 10 seconds behind me. I was thrilled to have experienced such an exciting finish, but there was also a part of me that felt like a jerk. But, she was gracious and kind – congratulating me, and giving me a hug. We both agreed: that was SO MUCH FUN!

I finished the day with one of my slowest half iron times in a while. But, that doesn’t give me reason to doubt my final push to IM Couer d’Alene. For every doubt I have, I remind myself of the reasons why I have no need (or room) for doubt right now. I ended up the fifth place participant overall, with the second fastest run of the day (beat only by my speedy husband!). I’ve still got work to do before IMCDA, and I will take the lessons from this day and grow from them.

No doubt about it.

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