Arriving at one goal is the starting point to another. ~John Dewey
Sunday, October 4th was the day I have been working toward for five months: my first half iron distance triathlon. Race day began as most race days begin: EARLY! While I had been tossing and turning since 2:34 a.m., I did not officially rise out of bed until 5:01 a.m. The race was scheduled to start at 8 a.m. Even though the venue was only 20 minutes away and I had already packed everything I needed, I wanted to get up early enough to eat something solid, and arrive at the race site with ample time to set up, warm up, and prepare myself mentally. John’s parents arrived at our house by 5:30 a.m. – right on schedule. They were carpooling with us because the State Park, where the race would be held, had limited parking. Along with John’s parents, I was expecting a posse of supporters: my mom and her boyfriend Jesse, sister-in-law Tracy, Aunt Val, Uncle Robert, cousin Robin and her husband Chris. John’s mom, Jeanne, had brought along items to make the spectating more comfortable: chairs, food, drinks, and so on. We packed up those items, along with my bike and transition gear, and we headed to the Bass River State Forest.
When we were within one mile of the venue, we saw the tail lights. John slowed the truck to a stop. It was 6:01 a.m., and it didn’t seem like the line was moving–at all. I’d like to say that I was not affected by the wait, but that would be a lie. I had a race day plan that did NOT include a half an hour wait in line just to park. I began to worry that we were too late to get a spot in the park, and would have to take the shuttle. As we inched toward the entrance, it became clear that parking was available. So, what was taking so long? Let’s just say that the greeter at the park entrance was not in a hurry. While friendly, she was apparently nonplussed by the traffic jam. She asked leisurely if we were entered in the half or the sprint. And, then unhurriedly waved us through the gate. What traffic? I wished I was as relaxed as she was.
By the time we parked, it was 6:30 a.m. The sprint triathlon (also being held that day) was scheduled to begin at 7:00 a.m., but between the inefficient processing of the traffic line, and a dense fog on the lake, it was clear that event would not be starting on time, which meant the half would be pushed back as well. So, I took my time in preparing my transition area, going to bodymarking, and picking up my timing chip. I talked with a few people I knew, had idle chit chat with those next to my transition area, and met up with family members to say hi.
By the time I had finished this process, the sprint triathlon still had not begun, despite the fact that the fog had lifted. By 7:45 a.m., the race director called the sprint triathletes to the swim start.
Race organizers told the half distance triathletes that our first wave would go off by 8:15 a.m. Okay, that’s not too bad, I thought. I had carefully timed my morning nutrition for an 8:06 a.m. start (I was in the third wave). A 15 minute delay would not affect that plan. Well, it was 8:50 a.m. by the time the race director called the race meeting for the half distance. Okay, this delay would pose an issue for my pre-race fueling. My stomach was growling. And, I had gone in the water for a swim warm up at 8 a.m. By 9 a.m., I was decidedly not warmed up. Turns out, this disorganization on the part of the race management would be only one of many snafus throughout the day. As the USAT official was reviewing the rules for the day, I ran to my transition area and grabbed a shot of gel to quiet my growling tummy. I’m not sure exactly what time my wave began, but I think it was somewhere around 9:15 a.m. I had hoped to be several miles into the bike by this time! Instead, I was waiting for the swim to start.
As the race director started the swim for the half distance, we could see some of the sprint triathletes coming in from the bike and starting the run! I was in the third wave, which included all of the female and relay athletes (approximately 120 people). As we stood on the shore line, waiting for the second wave to take off, my family held up signs: “You Crazy!” and “Maria: You Will Do This!” Their support offered me courage. One of the women in my wave commented, “Aw, man: you got signs!” By far, I had the best race support team of the day!
I had decided I would start my swim toward the front and as close to the buoy as I could get. This position was a switch for me. I usually try to start far away from other people, but I also know that I have to get used to being around others at the start. (After all, Lake Placid 2010 with its legendary mass swim start of 2500 athletes is less than a year away!) With the bright orange buoy to my right shoulder, I was in the second or third “row” from the front. The water was in the mid-60s. My wetsuit offered just enough warmth for comfort.
I heard the call: “10 seconds to go.” I breathed slowly and deeply to keep my heart rate from racing uncontrollably. As the race director said, “Get ready, get set…” I felt a wave of calm, and I was ready to… “Go!”
In training, I had practiced a hard effort start for about 200-300 meters, which I did. Because this was my first half distance, I wanted to be conservative in exerting energy for the majority of the swim. After settling from the start, I kept a steady pace, and sighted frequently to make sure I was on course since “zig-zagging” has been a problem for me in the past. I stuck to the buoys, and even scrapped a few with my right shoulder. I had always imagined that if I stuck to the buoy line, I would be stuck in a throng of swimmers. That was not the case for this race. I had my own space for most of the race. For long stretches, I was completely alone. Based on my training, I had a goal swim time of 45 minutes. I finished in 40:05. According to the official race results, I was the 93rd fastest swimmer of the day.
I felt PUMPED coming out of the water. I saw (and heard) my family; they were cheering and clapping. I heard them yell my name. I raised my arms in the air and screamed, “Woo-hoo!” I couldn’t wait to get on the bike. My first transition was only 1 minute and 58 seconds – way faster than I could have hoped for. It was just enough time for my entire support team to reposition themselves at the bike mount area to cheer me on. How lucky can a girl get?
I felt great as I started the bike, which is a mostly flat, scenic, two-loop 29 mile course through the pine barrens of Southern New Jersey. (Yes, that’s right: a 58 mile bike as compared with the customary 56 miles for the half distance.) I love this bike course; I had spent most of my summer training on it. I knew almost every nook and cranny of that course. Prior to the race, I had a clear strategy that focused on having a negative split for the bike. That strategy was a good one–if only I had followed it.
I was full of adrenaline from the start and a successful swim, so I probably pushed that first loop a little bit harder than I should have. Okay, there’s no probably about it: I pushed too hard on the first loop. Yes, that’s a typical rookie mistake, and I should have known better. I started to feel the effects of that push when I was about halfway through the second loop.
My lower back and hips began to ache deep inside, and I knew I had to take it easy for the last 10-15 miles of the bike if I to have anything left for the run. The bike is not my strongest segment, so I set my goal for a modest 18 mph average. In training, the fastest average I achieved for 56 miles was 17.4–so, 18 mph was reasonable. Based on the official race results (and my garmin watch), I finished the 58 mile bike in 3 hours 13 minutes and 13 seconds–which is precisely an 18.0 mph average. I should be happy that I achieved my goal, but I’m a little disappointed. I think if I conserved my energy more efficiently in the first loop, I might have been able to achieve a better bike split. I also think I would have felt better at the start of the run. Lesson learned.
As I came in from the bike, John asked me, “How are you feeling?” I replied, “The second loop was not as fabulous as the first.” My hips were screaming in pain. I usually have some back and hip pain following long bike rides–but nothing like I was feeling at that moment. I had sharp stabbing pain in my lower back – surely a bad sign as I began the run.
As I was changing my shoes in transition, John yelled, “Maria, grab your gel!” He heard that the aid stations had run out of gel. I thought that was odd since the race director had made a point of saying that there was plenty of gels and bananas and heed at each aid station. I’m glad I brought my own gel because like other promises the organizers made, the assurance of “plenty of nutrition” was misleading. Some aid stations only had water–no Heed, no bananas, no gel – nothing that contained calories of any kind. For many runners, they had counted on the race-supplied nutrition–and rightly so. For a $175 entry fee, you should expect plenty of aid.
My second transition took 1 minute and 58 seconds. It should have been faster because all I had to do was change my shoes, but I had to walk out of the transition area to loosen my hips. 
It took me about 4 miles to find my rhythm, but once I did, I started to feel great. The run course was awesome, and mostly followed trails in the state forest. I love running on trails, and I began picking off runners one by one. At this point in the day, the sun was shining brightly, and there was little wind back in the woods. It was not terribly hot, but it was “close”, especially on some parts of the trails where the wind seemed to stop completely. Between the rising temperatures and the lack of fuel, many athletes began to bonk. (The official registrant list had 310 entered in the race; only 240 finished.)
I kept a conservative pace on the run, with a run time of 1:58:26 for 13.2 miles (that’s right: 13.2, the course was an extra .1 mile than traditional half iron courses). I averaged an 8:59 min/mile pace, which is slower than I would have thought, but enough to be the 54th fastest run time of the day. I had hoped for an 8:45 min/mile pace. But, I foolishly wore myself out on the bike. I imagine the heat and trails also slowed me down some. As I passed the 12 mile marker, I could hear the sounds of the finish line. I was just minutes from achieving the goal I had set for myself five months ago. I rounded the last corner, and saw it: the finish line. I zeroed in on it and dug deep. I kicked it in high gear and finished the race in the official time of 5 hours 55 minutes and 37 seconds. I raised my arms in triumph, and heard the cheers from my family.
I finished 4th in my age group (35-39), the 16th overall female (out of a field of 82 finishers), and 88th overall (out of a field of 240 finishers). For a first effort, I’m pleased with my accomplishment. But, I also recognize there is plenty of room for improvement. I learned some important lessons from this race. I had the 136th fastest bike time of the day–clearly the bike is not my strength. When John ran his ultramarathon last week, one of the runners recommended that the problems we have while racing should be seen as opportunities for improvement for the next race. So, rather than dwell on my lackluster bike performance in this race, I will use the experience as motivation for training as I work toward my next major goal: Lake Placid 2010. Truth be told, I can’t wait to get into the weight room and build cycling-specific leg and core strength, a lack of which I attribute to the poor bike performance. I also feel that I need to build bike-specific endurance, which can only come from spending time on my bike.
This race also confirmed that running is my strong point. No shocker there. I like running the most, and have been a runner for my entire athletic life. Heck, I got into triathlons because biking and swimming served as useful cross-training for marathons. However, I know that if I can’t strengthen my bike, I will continue to suffer weaker runs because of the excess energy I must expend on the bike. So, if I want to get more competitive as a runner, I have to become a better cyclist.
I also learned that while I am not the best swimmer, I’m better in the water than I give myself credit for. I was the 93rd swimmer out of the water. For the swimmers in the crowd, this position may seem dismal. But, for me, I’m elated! I learned how to freestyle swim in March, and the first time I swam in open water was in May. I’ve progressed much more quickly as a swimmer than I have as a biker, and this race confirmed that progress (even though I didn’t realize it during training).
Yesterday, five months of training ended with the accomplishment of my goal: completing a half distance iron triathlon in less than 6 hours. Today, I begin working toward my next goal: train for and finish the Lake Placid Ironman 2010.
