After weeks upon weeks of winter and early spring training, with little to break up the swim/bike/run/eat/sleep cycle, the day for our first triathlon of the season had arrived. We selected the New Jersey Devilman Half “Lite” Triathlon, held in Cedarville, NJ on Saturday, May 8, 2010. The “lite” status denotes that the race was about 20 miles shorter than the traditional half iron 70.3 distance. Specifically, the half lite included a .8 mile swim, 40.3 mile bike, and 8.8 mile run. A nice distance to get started for the year.
Lest you may think the “Devilman” moniker conjures the lure of the Jersey Devil, I rather think, for this year anyway, it refers to the hellish winds that were blowing from the belly of the beast itself. Okay, okay. Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but not much: the wind was blowing about 25 miles per hour sustained, with 45 mile per hour gusts (according to weather.com). These winds were served up with a side of 80% humidity, and the threat of hail-inducing thunderstorms. Sweet.
Luckily, John and I had been smart in our training. Instead of resorting to the trainer on less than ideal weather days, we’d been out on the roads since the snow melted in late February, early March. So, we’d had plenty of time in the rain and wind. Okay, maybe not 45 mph gusts, but windy days nonetheless. Learning to swim, bike and run in all types of weather was an important training tip we received last year from triathletes who are much more experienced and race-seasoned than us.
Because I had trained in windy conditions, I wasn’t terribly freaked out by the reports of 20-25 mph winds. Granted, I wasn’t happy, but I knew I had prepared properly. So, the weather didn’t dampen my spirits.
I eagerly anticipated this race because it would be the first chance to test out the “new body” in a race situation. I say “new body” because I have NEVER subjected my body to the rigors it has endured over the previous 20 weeks: 15-20 hour training weeks, filled with new records for distance and time on an almost weekly basis. I was expecting big things in this “short” race.
Let’s not forget the larger goal, either. This race was a chance to identify weaknesses and work out the kinks for the races that were higher on my priority list, specifically the Mooseman 70.3 (June 6th), and of course, the grand event of my 2010 season, Lake Placid Ironman (July 25th).
As we waited for the race to start, John and I talked to the athletes who were stationed near us in the transition area. We shared stories, and got some race reports about Mooseman and Lake Placid. Based on the people we met, I would say the Devilman crowd was a competitive, well-seasoned bunch of triathletes. We could hear people asking each other, “Which ironmans are you doing this year?” Did they say ironman plural? Yup, yup they did. So, it was a great group of athletes against which to gauge our progress.
So, how did it go? It’s best to break the race into parts first, then give the overall.
Swim.
The swim began with an in-water start. To get into the water, the athletes had to walk single file along a narrow dock, which ended with stairs that disappeared into the cedar lake. Because of this slow moving system, I had about 30 seconds from the time I entered the water until my wave started. Uh, not so good. I didn’t have time to acclimate to the water, which wasn’t terribly cold (70 degrees), but it was still a little bit of a shock to the system, given the windy conditions. So, my heart rate was elevated before I even took the first stroke. I took what little time I had before the whistle went off to try to slow it down with some deep breathing. Suffice to say, 30 seconds was not enough to do the trick.
Go! Off we went. The first 200 meters or so were absolute chaos. The lake was small, so even though there were only about 70 women in my wave, we were packed in tightly, and the lane was especially narrow around the buoys. This led to a lot of bumping, grabbing, and kicking. My impression at this point: Good practice for Lake Placid, when 2500 swimmers all take the plunge together. This attitude is a decided change from my swims last year, in which I spent most of the time in a state of near panic that I would be stampeded by the rush of arms and legs moving through the water. This year, I had a little bit more speed and strength on my side.
So, rather than swim out of the washing machine, as I did every time last year, I stayed my course and hugged the buoy line, silently cheering myself on for being brave and not giving way, despite a slight fear that someone might drown me in their zeal to swim over me. Whenever I felt someone on my feet, I gave a sharp warning kick, which worked to keep people from plowing over top of me, but (hopefully?) didn’t cause anyone harm.
At about 500 meters or so, I finally settled in the swim. I was gliding and passing. Hold up a minute here, people: me, passing people on the swim–who knew?
The official time for my swim is 28 minutes, which includes a 1/4 mile run to the transition timing mat. I know the swimmers reading this are probably thinking, What?! That’s a slow swim, girl. But, for me, that is quite a good time – especially considering the first 200-300 meters or so I wasn’t swimming as smoothly as I could have, and was breathing pretty much every stroke, and I even stopped at one point to calm my heart rate. According to the race results, I was the 83rd swimmer out of the water (out of a total of 211 finishers). Compare that with being in the slower half of swimmers at almost every triathlon I did last season. That’s progress!10,000 yards a week is paying dividends.
Bike
The bike course was an easy-to-navigate, non-technical out-and-back loop, which we rode twice. The “out” part of the loop was a mix of tail and cross winds, as the road curved in various places. It was the opportunity to push hard, and go fast. The “back” part of the loop was a mix of head and cross winds. It was a time to hold steady, and avoid blowing up in the effort to push against the wind.
My race plan was to hammer the bike portion of this race. Unfortunately, the bike didn’t exactly go as planned. I spent the first 8 or 10 miles riding too timidly. In hindsight, I realized I should have pushed hard since I had the benefit of the wind mostly at my back. When I turned around at the halfway mark, and felt the wall of wind, I realized my error. On the second go round, I knew better. I rode hard on the way out, taking advantage of the milder wind. By this time, the cross winds were fierce. At one point, the wind gusted so abruptly, I was pushed from the shoulder into the road. That was great, ambien just great for my cycling anxiety. 🙂
In addition to not accurately adjusting my pace, I was also too skittish to get in my aero bars. (Side note: I haven’t been on my aero bars since I crashed over a month ago. I now refer to them as my water bottle holder.) No doubt I lost at least 1 mile per hour due to this mental silliness–not to mention the extra effort I expended by sitting up, death-gripping the cow horns. The official results list me finishing as the 151st biker. Yuk. I have to do better than this. When I said I had hoped for big things in this race, finishing at the back of the bike pack was not what I meant. Not a disaster, but disappointing. I think the most disappointing aspect of the bike is the fact that I know physically I can achieve more than this. I mean, I averaged 17 miles per hour. Last year, when I did the half ironman (less physically fit than I am now), I averaged 18 mph for 56 miles. I know I can do better now. So, I will continue to work on my mental focus and positive visualization. But, I WILL NOT QUIT.
Run (the fun part)
As I veered into T2 off the bike, the volunteers within the dismount area were shouting words of encouragement: “Great job, etc.” I responded, “Now it’s time for the FUN PART!” Indeed, it was. I had a great run. I’m certain that this race was the best I’ve ever felt running off the bike. I played it smart for the first mile, as one of my mistakes in the past has been to run too fast and too hard right off the bike. There is a temptation to really push it because it feels so good to be standing upright, and I’ve got all the adrenaline from moving through transition. But, I know that haste makes waste, and causes problems later in the run. If this race were a sprint triathlon, I could push the pace the whole time. But, since there were 9 miles to run, I had to be a little bit conservative–but just a little and only for a short amount of time.
As with the bike, the run course as an easy to navigate out and back 4.4 mile loop. So, I would be able to see the other runners who were headed back in the other way. That meant I could count how many females were in front of me (I can’t help it: it’s the competitor in me!). I figured I was way behind in the female pack because my bike was so lackluster. But, I would do what I could to make up for that in the run. I might be a terrible cyclist, but I know where my strength is – and I was going to take advantage of it.
I was not even out of T2 when I started picking people off in the run–one of my favorite pastimes. (I know, I know, it’s that competitive thing again. But, rest assured: I’m a friendly competitor. Sportsmanship is VERY important.) As I hit the 2 mile mark, I felt fabulous. I was giving thumbs up and shouting words of encouragement to the other triathletes as I ran.
At this point, I saw John coming back the other way – and he was in the lead pack of males. I yelled to him, “Kick this b@tch in the a$$!” (apologies for the profanity, but that’s what I yelled. As my mom would say, “Such a lady…”).
Shortly after I passed by John, the course made a right turn, and ran smack dab into that wall of wind again. So, I concentrated on staying strong. I pushed, but not too hard. I wanted to make certain that when I hit the turnaround, and had this strong wind at my back, I would be able to kick it in the ass and take off. As we ran into the wind, I began to see the carnage along the run course. In addition to the challenging winds, the sun was hot, the wind was strong, but I was stronger. When I hit the turnaround, I had counted about 22 females in ahead of me. I had dreams of finishing in the top 10, but figured this would be an insurmountable challenge. But, I was going to try. So, I took off.
At one point, I passed a fellow runner who said, “Great pace, mate!” in the most wonderful Australian accent. I responded, “Great accent!” and, then, took off like the road runner. Beep-beep! I finished 33rd overall for the run portion. While I’m disappointed in my performance on the bike, I am STOKED about how I did in the run. It makes me excited to run my fall marathon – do I smell a 3:30 in the air?
What did I learn?
First, I liked this race. It wasn’t my favorite, but I would highly recommend it to those of you who are looking for an early season, mid-distance race for 2011.
While Devilman was not a high priority race, it was an important race for identifying weaknesses and reevaluating goals. I think this is important to do after every race. Whatever body part(s) hurt, or whatever didn’t work correctly, work on it so you can fix it for the next race. Here’s my list:
1. Stop slacking on the strength training. (For example, during the bike portion, I had some pain in my hip flexors – a not-so-subtle reminder that lunges, and adductor and abductor exercises are important and that I can’t afford to skip them.)
2. Keep plugging away on the bike – work on bike handling. Maybe get on the bike everyday – even if it’s only 20 minutes. I also need to practice positive visualization. As John said to me a few weeks ago, “Nothing has changed since you crashed. You can still do everything you did before. It’s in your head. Change your frame.” Indeed.
3. Get in open water. The pool is great, but I need to get in open water at least once a week. Of course, I might have to wait until the water temp cooperates. Right now, the bay is still about 59 degrees. Brrrrrr! Can you say booties? And, as summer time rolls around to the Jersey Shore there are several open water mile swims. I plan to do a few of those to continue to acclimate to swimming with a large group of people. We are also doing an Ironman training camp in Lake Placid in June, which has a mass open water start in Mirror Lake.
4. “There is no failure as long as the effort is honest.” I had wanted to place in the top three of my age group for this race, but it didn’t happen. I was 5th. I wanted to to place in the top 10 females, but I was the 16th female across the line. So, I failed to achieve big things. Am I disappointed? I little bit. But, was my effort honest? You bet. And, I’m going to keep on rocking it.
And, lest I forget, I have even bigger things in mind for this season. Lake Placid awaits, and I will be ready for it in 11 weeks’ time.
