When John and I signed up for Revolution 3’s Quassy Half Iron a few months back, I posted our registration to Twitter: “Rev3Tri Quassy – we are in!”
I quickly received a reply from the Rev3Tri staff: “Awesome! That bike course is EPIC.”
At the time, that response sent little shivers down my spine. When you love cycling, as I do not, “EPIC” sounds great; I realize that. However, for someone like me, the word “epic” conjures images of death-defying descents, with crazy twisting turns, and shoulders that drop off into oblivion. So, I was a little nervous.
But, I had heard excellent reviews of the Rev3 organization generally, and the Quassy course specifically, particularly as an excellent training half for Ironman Lake Placid. So, we were doing it.
Turns out, I had NOTHING to be nervous about. The Quassy bike course is MY kind of course. Plenty of challenging climbs, with descents that are easy to navigate. In fact, for most of the descents, you could easily see the bottom. As long as I can see the bottom, I’ll bomb it-and I did! I actually went 37 miles per hour at one point! That is the absolute fastest I have ever gone on a bike. The best news: it was almost fun ;).
But, let’s start at the beginning shall we?
Race Morning
I’ve got some race day rituals, and they begin with the sounds of the Rocky theme as the alarm on my phone wakes us up. It has to be this way.
John and I were ready to go in a jiffy because we had carefully laid out all of our clothing and nutrition the night before. We were on-site at transition by 5:20 a.m. There was plenty of parking, and we were bike-side, setting up our transition area by 5:30. Since transition wasn’t closing until 6:30, we had plenty of time to get set up without rushing. Whenever possible, this is my preferred mode. Rushing only heightens my race-morning anxiety.
The race morning emcee had a name for this anxiety, “We suffer from a rare condition – tri-panic disorder.”
Yes, we all suffer from it from time to time.
The morning was cool, but not cold. I had put on several layers of clothing before leaving the hotel room to avoid getting a chill, and it worked. Once you get a chill, it’s hard to get rid of. Before heading into the swim, I’d rather be too warm, than cold.
By 6:30 a.m., the emcee announced the closing of the transition area, and was calling everyone down to the lake. John and I were ready to go.
Let’s just get started! Once the gun goes off, I’m good. It’s just the waiting around that puts my tri-panic disorder into overdrive.
We stood at water’s edge and watched the pros take off, first the men, and then the women. John’s swim wave was first, at 7:03 a.m., but my wave would not go off until 7:31 a.m. Ugh! Lots of waiting time, but I’m used to it. If there are waves, my wave will be the last or next to last one.
Rather than let the waiting anxiety grip me, I sat on a chair, got inside of my head and repeated a mantra our friend Chris offered the day before: “Stay calm. Carry on.” Turns out, this mantra would be really important by the time I got to the run. But, I’m getting ahead of myself here.
I visualized a steady swim, a smooth transition, a strong bike, and a pain-free run. Then, it was go-time. As I entered the swim corral, there was my friend Charlotte. We hugged, and gave each other best wishes.
I jokingly call her my good luck charm because she has such a great way about her. She exudes confidence, caring, and calm. If you are out on the course, and she sees you, she never fails with a “good job!” or “keep going – you can do it!” or “that’s the way!” If you are on the side of road, and need something for your bike, Charlotte will stop and help. She’s been an important role model for sportsmanship and comraderie,
As we walked to the water’s edge, I let her energy wash over me. (Thanks, Charlotte!)
The Swim
“Go!” called the announcer.
I walked slowly into the 70-degree water. I’m not a super-fast swimmer, so there’s no sense rushing in, only to get swum over. When I reached thigh-deep water, I began swimming.
“One-two-three,” I counted, and breathed. “Four-five-six.” Breathe. I count in multiples of three, up to 12, and then I sight. The buoys were bright yellow, and very easy to spot, spaced at regular intervals along the 3-sided rectangle course. As long as I sight about every 12 strokes, I can swim a fairly steady line. As we swam out to the first buoy, I moved from feet to feet, taking advantage of whatever draft I could.
The turn buoys were red, and again, easy to spot. I curved around the first turn buoy, turning my body slightly into it, while pulling hard and quick around the turn. After the first turn, the sun was directly in my eyes, and I don’t have tinted goggles. Bad move. (Note to self: Need to get a pair of those.)
- I really liked the transition racks that Rev3 uses. These boxes were much better than the traditional metal racks. I found it much easier to get my bike in and out. However, space was a little tight. (I also loved that they were marked with our names. Made me feel like a pro! …it’s the little things!)
Even so, I was able to stay on feet until I could see the buoys in the sun’s glare. I may have lost some time along this back stretch, however, because sighting was challenging.
After the second turn into shore, I was able to see clearly again, and starting giving the kick part of the swim some gas. Up until this point, I was kicking very lightly.
I had a clean exit from the water, swimming all the way to the shore, until my hand grazed the bottom. I avoid standing too early, which can cause you to slog through deeper water.
Swim time: 41 minutes. I was hoping for 38 minutes. I went out too slowly, and lost some time on the back side of the course. That’s okay, I’d rather come out of the water calm, then overworked. But, I’ll push harder at Placid. I can swim harder than I did, so I will.
Swim to Bike
The distance from the lake to T1 is a little over .1 mile (by my Garmin), and the race director had carpeted the run nicely, so it wasn’t too tough on the tootsies.
I had a smooth T1. I’m usually a major slow poke in T1, but I was very conscious of how much time I was taking, and moved swiftly. I managed to exit transition after a little over 3 minutes, and I was off on the bike.
While this course had its descents, they were short and often followed by climbs. For the most part, this bike had three options: steady climbing, steep climbing, and brief downhill respites. Make no mistake: This is a killer of a course. Lest you doubt me, here is the elevation profile:
As you can tell from the elevation profile, the first half of the course is a bit easier than the second half. (But, really “easy” is not a word I would readily think of when considering this course.) You know you’ve begun the second half when you hit the 8 mile climb, that starts at mile 23.
Despite the challenge, I really like the climbing. I feel good climbing. I keep my breathing steady, my cadence above 70; 80 is even better if I can manage that. More than a few times on this course, however, I found myself in the lightest gear, pushing 68-70 rpm as hard as I could. There are some points where you just have no other option but to grind it out.
But, the masochist in me says, “Bring it on!”
I had a few mantras I stuck with through the bike. On the downhills, I used Chris’s advice: “Stay calm. Carry on.” If I wanted to hit my brakes, I just repeated those words to myself. A few times, I also tried, “Just let it go. Just let it go.”
For the most part, I did let it go. I only feathered my brakes if I couldn’t see the bottom (only 2), or if there was a sharp turn at the base of the descent (again, only twice). If I were to do this course again (and I hope I do!), I would be let it go a little more on the ones where I couldn’t see the bottom, as there really is nothing super technical on this course.
When I would get to the bottom, I would always congratulate myself: “You got that, girl!” “Woop! Woop!” A few of the woop-woops I shouted aloud, joyfully.
If you are afraid of downhills (as I am!), this course is perfect to help increase your confidence level. As I mentioned above, most of the descents are short , and they are not especially technical. There were only two spots I could remember that there was a turn at the end of the descent, and the race ambien online directors had these areas well marked with caution signs, as well as volunteers cautioning you to slow down, saying, “Left turn at the bottom.” I found this REALLY helpful. Thanks, Rev3!
During the climbs, I would say:
“Lock it in. Keep it steady.”
“You are stronger than this hill.”
“Perfect circles. Up this hill. Perfect circles.”
“This is where you show your strength.”
As corny as it may seem, mantras are really helpful. Of course, the mantras that work for me, may not work for you. So, play around with a few sayings to find those that really speak to you.
At one point, I was climbing, and passing quite a few people (thank you very much!), and a spectator exclaimed, “There’s a climber!”
I looked around, but it was just me. I looked at him.
“Yes – you!” he yelled, laughing.
Wow – either he’s not a cyclist, or I’m a climber. I have to admit, that made me feel pret-ty good, especially since I’m a flatlander. (Thank you, CompuTrainer!)
The day before the race, we went to the race meeting, and the director put a bit of fear into me about the climbing. I mean, I knew this course was hilly – I’ve been riding it on my CompuTrainer. Even so, the director’s words gave me pause.
But then, John put it in perspective for me (as he always does): “This race won”t be as hard as the VT50.”
He is right about that. Running 50 miles with over 9000 feet of climbing is definitely harder. However, some lessons from ultra-running did apply to this bike course (as well as the run course). For example, when running an ultra, you need to move when you can: on the flats and the downhills. And, on the climbs, you just have to keep steady, even if that means slowing the pace and walking. Similarly, on the Quassy course you must move when you can. While there are relatively few flats on either the bike or run course, there are some short sections with minimal grade, and there are plenty of short, fast descents. MOVE AS FAST AS YOU CAN.
During the climbs, just keep it steady and keep moving forward. And, don’t blow up too early in the race. You get hit with a pretty good climb about 3 miles in on the bike, and then again 10 miles in. Resist the temptation to bulldoze these hills. You’ll regret that at mile 23 when you have 8 miles of up and then up some more, and then after that big climb, you still have plenty of climbing left before you get to mile 56.
In the final six miles of the bike, I passed a woman who was cheering on the racers from her lawn. She was making enough racket for at least 10 spectators worth of people. I instantly loved her, and flashed her a big grateful smile.
“You’re beautiful,” She yelled. She made me cry. And, so I went, into the final moments of the bike, weeping and grateful to be alive, to be doing this race, to be feeling the beauty of the human body. Thank you, anonymous woman at mile 50. I love you.
I sailed into Quassy Amusement Park, to the cheers of spectators. I had achieved a 3 hour and 32 minute bike, 2 minutes shy of my goal. But, I’ll take it on this course. It is incredibly more challenging than the entire Lake Placid course, and I’m feeling confident about both my bike handling, as well as my ability to push the pace. As I entered T2, I was 36 in my division (35-39 females), and the 134th female.
Bike to Run
I managed another fluid transition, under 2 minutes, and I was out on the run course. Within 2 minutes, my stupid right leg was tightening up. Argh! Not now, not now, please not now. I slowed my pace considerably, as I was running a little too hot out of transition.
After about 40 minutes, my leg loosened up, and I started feeling that good-run feeling. I had to be careful on the downhills, because they would cause little tweaks if I ran too quickly, but other than that, I was running a solid 8:30ish pace by the time I got to 5 miles.
Ah, this feels good! I reveled in the glory of running.
Similar to the bike course, the run course is also quite hilly. Like this:
My Garmin logged 852 feet of climbing across the 13 miles, a challenge especially after that bike.
As with the bike, I was solid on the climbs. In fact, I think the climb just before mile 4 is what loosened my leg up and got the blood flowing. Feeling the rhythm, I worked on descending the pace from mile 4 through 6, and then they gripped me.
They = the worst stomach cramps I have ever had. Let me be even more clear: this was the first time I ever experienced gastrointestinal distress beyond mild gas or brief upset.
My stomach felt like it was in KNOTS, and I felt like I had to go to the bathroom.
Stay calm, carry on. I repeated. When that didn’t work, I switched to counting to 100. When that lost it’s luster, I moved back to Stay calm, carry on. Then back to counting.
I was afraid to eat or drink anything besides water. And, after a while, even water seemed to intensify the cramping. So, I spent the last 4 miles of the run without consuming anything except tums, which did make me feel just a bit better for about 10 minutes. I also poured water on top of my head at every aid station, again that would have a short-term palliative effect.
At one point, I thought that maybe my bike shorts were making the pain worse, so I rolled them down, below my waist. Apparently, I must have gone a little too far in the rear, because the guy behind me yelled, “Oh, hey, that’s a bit too low.”
Woops! Sorry about that… A little bit of runner’s crack isn’t good for motivation, I guess.
I’d like to be able to offer those of you considering Quassy some detailed insight into the run, but honestly, I don’t remember much beyond counting and pushing through severe stomach pain, and spending about 15 minutes in the port-o-potty trying to, how shall I say this?: make things happen.
What I do remember, however, is that there were a lot of hills. Similar to the bike, you need to move when you can along the flats and the downhills, and keep it steady on the uphill. There are not many spectators along the course, so if you need spectators, you’ll have to find your energy elsewhere. I don’t particularly mind limited spectators, and in some cases prefer it because it allows me to get inside my head.
You also need to be mindful of how challenging this run is while you are on the bike course. I saw lots of people walking. I heard two guys talking about what a great bike split they had, but they were reduced to walking on the run. As Larry Parker said during the Fireman Ironman camp two weeks ago, “There’s no such thing as a good bike and a bad run. That’s a bad race.”
So, if you want to have a good race at Quassy, you need to think of the bike and the run as a unit–both are incredibly challenging. Don’t leave everything on the bike course. You need to reserve something for the run.
I managed to push through the pain and run the entire course (minus 3 potty stops). I’m just stubborn that way. I finished the run in 1 hour and 59 minutes and 10 seconds. I had wanted to do 2 hours initially because of my leg, turns out my stomach was the cautionary body part. Either way, I was right on target. Without the potty stops, I would have had a really good time. Oh well–can’t shoulda-woulda-coulda– the time is the time.
Overall, I finished in 6 hours and 18 minutes, moving up to 29th out of 54 in my age group (boooo, not so hot) and 109th overall female out of 310, a little better, but still not great.
And, no, this race was not a PR. However, my half PR is on a course that was flat as a pancake. So, let’s consider something a bit more comparable, shall we?
Last year at Mooseman, I finished in 6 hours and 25 minutes. The bike only has 2800 feet of climbing, and I averaged 14.5 miles per hour. This year, with 1,000 more feet of climbing, I averaged 15.8 mph. I’ll take that improvement, thank you very much!
So, I’m calling Quassy my “hilly half” PR. And, you bet I’ll be back to make it a real PR next year. Quassy is a masochist’s kind of course.
Just a few more Quassy tips (that didn’t fit in the narrative above):
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Pre-race meal 🙂 If you wait too late to book a room in Middlebury, as we did, and don’t want to break the bank, I recommend staying at the Days Inn in Southington. We got a room for $60. It’s not fancy, but it’s clean, and our room had a king bed and plenty of space for all of our gear.
- If you stay in Southington, I highly recommend Kizl’s diner for a pre-race meal. It’s on West Street. John and I like to eat pancakes, and this was the perfect spot. Reasonable price, plenty of food.
- If you have kids, definitely bring them. Quassy is an amusement park – and there is plenty for the kiddies to enjoy while mommy or daddy is out on the roads killing him/herself.
- Put a safety pin in your timing chip strap to protect against the velco coming loose.
