The Rest of the Race

After the aforementioned swim in English Bay (Vancouver: The Swim), there was still a 40 K (about 24 mile) bike ride followed by a 10 K (about 6 miles) run before this race would be over. Transition 1 started OK, but I slowed down after the longish run to my bike, was a bit sluggish pulling of the wetsuit, decided to wear socks and a windbreaker because of the cool weather but finally got going with my bike for another longish run out of the transition area. I think my T1 was about 7 minutes which is a very long time.

I started the first of 4 loops around Stanley Park and as I expected, got passed regularly by the younger women who were already out on the course doing their 2nd, 3rd or 4th laps (having started their race up to an hour before my wave went out). By my 2nd lap I expected to see the older women's wave coming onto the course and by the 3rd lap, I was sure the men would be passing me in droves. But this never happened. Each lap got less crowded and I suspected the race had been suspended. I'd later find out that after my wave had gone out for the swim, the swim had been cancelled for the remaining waves (the women 55 and older and all the men) due to adverse weather conditions.

I practically had all of Stanley Park to myself with the shivering volunteers half-heartedly cheering me on. My riding is what I'd call a hard workout, but I never really felt like I was racing. The swim had taken a lot out of me and I just wasn't feeling competitive. A few women in my age group passed me (in addition to those younger ones). Sad to say, the only riders I passed were a few AWAD's cranking along in their racing wheelchairs. My heart rate was up in the low 160's, which is where it normally would be in a race when I feel I'm pushing hard on the bike. So I guess I wasn't slacking too much.

(There I am checking out the course the day before the race; definitely slacking here). - >

On to T2 with that being significant only because I could see that, yes, the race was continuing and not cancelled and I would now have to go run. I thought maybe I'd snap out of this flat race I was having and be able to pass some able-bodied woman in my age group.

I wanted to start the run under control and not go out too fast. Since I had not trained enough to do an Olympic race anywhere near my best, I was OK with keeping the running going however I needed to, even at a comfortable jog if need be. In the first 1/2 mile I started to struggle - my tank felt empty, no energy was in me. When running gets hard (and it's almost always hard, but when it gets really hard...) I start my "I will not stop, I do not walk" mantra. That has gotten me up many a hill. At about 3/4 mile, my mind said "I will walk, I will walk". Soon my body followed and when the next water station came along, I took a breather. The little walk break didn't help for long, the rest of my so-called race now became a series of "Just make it to the next water stop" or "Just don't stop to walk in front of this crowd of spectators". I had mentally thrown in the towel and I was just dead tired.

Thinking back, I had drunk only about 1/2 of the sport drink during the bike (I normally would have drunk it all, providing some extra calories for the run to come). The fatigue in the run came around the 2 hour point in my race and assuming I probably burned extra calories in the cold and churning swim, I think I basically "bonked".

In endurance sports, particularly cycling and running, bonk or hitting the wall describes the condition when an athlete suddenly loses energy and becomes fatigued, the result of glycogen stores in the liver and muscles becoming depleted. The average human body stores enough glycogen to generate 1500 to 2000 kcal of energy. Intense cycling or running can easily consume 600-800 or more kcal per hour. Unless glycogen stores are replenished during exercise, glycogen stores will be depleted after 2 hours of continuous cycling or 15 to 20 miles (24 to 32 km) of running.
- Wikipedia

Bonk or no bonk on the run, that couldn't have been my excuse for the mediocre bike ride. And what's with letting myself get depleted in the first place? I think I should know better.

See this really slick hydration system (the aero-water bottle that I have to rubber band, stick a cut-off cup bottom over and secure with strapping tape)??? That mess contained the Cytomax I was supposed to be drinking. And speaking of aero-anything, the only time I was going fast enough for some sort of "aero" position to be helpful was on the downhills when my hands needed to be on the brake levers. I ought to get rid of those aero-bars.

I walked more and more, as frequently as every 1/4 mile, towards the end. Though I didn't really relish the thought of coming in last (which was getting to be a very real possibility), the good news is, I enjoyed myself. I chatted it up with the friendly race volunteers and cracked jokes with them as I sipped my Gatorade and watched yet another straggler on the course get ahead of me. This was no longer a race (I don't know that it ever was a race, for me). The sun was finally out, all I had to do was finish the course so why not enjoy it rather than suffer?

The hardest part was the long finish chute where I did not want to walk (neither did I feel the need to put forth some ridiculous and meaningless finishing surge). I crossed the finish line and was welcomed by more race volunteers who flattered me with congratulations and asking me how my race went (you get that 1:1 attention when you are trickling in at the end of the pack). I felt happy to swallow my pride, blab away with a few of them and laugh at myself.

This was not a race for me to have been competitive or to seek any PR's. But I did expect to actually RUN the entire run and maybe pass a few people. That I didn't was a combination of 3 important things: insufficient training, insufficient calorie intake (the bonk) and mentally giving up. When I later checked my heart rate monitor, I saw my HR max was 187. It's never been that high before (the late stages of a hard race and maybe it's in the low 180's). Something was up with this body of mine. After the race, I collected my gear, rode my bike around Vancouver's waterfront while there was a bit of sunshine, eventually showered, then enjoyed a Mojito with Sandy. On to the reception and snacks for Team USA and I was feeling fine. No sore muscles or unusual fatigue that day or the next. Go figure.

Last I looked, final results STILL are not posted, now 2 weeks later. But my time was about 3:01 with the 10K "run" being around 1 hr. My best indicator of how I "should" have done is by looking at the times of two local women who I've raced against several times. Both Sandy L. and Debbie G. consistently finish within 3-4 minutes of me. In this race they were about 30 and 35 minutes ahead of me. They could be stronger than ever, but even so, had I been able to have something closer to my normal race, I think I should have finished somewhere nearer to them, which would have put me, as it did them, about mid-pack for our age group. I would have been quite pleased with that outcome! But my 3:01 put me last for the American 50-54 women and probably 57th out of about 66 for all women in our age-group (again, the final results are pending).

Favorite road-trip CD? Into the Wild by Eddie Vedder for sure.

I still don't know what my goals are for this '08 season. I'm not all that focused and that's OK, I have other important things to do this summer. But I will not take for granted any of last season's successes now. I better appreciate how the hard work and the time taken training plus the setting of goals added up to some good past seasons.

Whilst I was road-tripping home on Sunday afternoon and clicking a photo of myself driving with the bike in the back of the car ( the photo above), I accidentally snapped this picture of the inside of my car. There, pinned to the ceiling, is a photo of me and my pal Darcy in a happy, smiling moment at the finish of another triathlon a few years ago. And there, see that circular thing that says "USAT"? That was quite an unexpected surprise. A month or two ago I received that patch and a certificate in the mail from USAT. Apparently my '07 ranking earned me "the distinction of an All American Honorable Mention" according to the certificate.

OK then, one bad race be damned! I'll interpret this accidental photo as a message! Get to work then go out and try again another day. Yeah, that's the ticket.