Victoria 70.3 Report - long version

Lead up to the race

Had a nice drive up to Port Angeles and a pleasant ferry ride over to Victoria.  My Airbnb was located in Cordova Bay, along the race course.  It was super cozy and I had three days of calmness to grocery shop, prepare meals, and acclimate to a schedule of early to bed, early to rise.  I did some reading and came across something that resonated with me, "some equate endurance sports with managing the inevitable mental and physical suffering and anxiety associated with everyday life, adopting life credos such as remaining patient in the face of adversity, not getting too attached to things, trusting the process, staying relaxed, and letting the outcomes take care of themselves."  Yep, this is why I TRI - to learn more about life; how to GO through it and GROW through it.

I met up with a few other racers from my Team Raise The Bar (RTB) - and scoped the course together.  We had our pre-race pasta meal together at the Old Spaghetti Factory.

I forgot my Torpedo water bottle that fits between my aero bars at home. Fortunately, a team mate swung by my house and brought it up on the next ferry.  PHEW – total save! 

After I picked up my race packet, I wrote on the back of my bib number, a few important things that are meaningful to me.  

Race morning

Didn’t sleep super great since the Airbnb host worked graveyard and his dogs barked a lot in the night.  I knew getting mad would be a waste of negative energy, so I just breathed through it and eventually got enough sleep to feel rested.  Alarm went off at 2:30 AM.  I ate a reliable breakfast as planned and showed up at the parking lot at 4:00 AM.  Transition and body marking opened at 4:30 AM.  At 5:00 AM, I realized I had forgotten my running shoes at the Airbnb.  I did not even stress out and  laughed as I told a nearby racer - who got freaked out for me.  The drive would take 8 minutes.  I was only bummed about losing my front row parking spot.  On the way, I stopped to take a sunrise photo.  I knew everything would be fine.  Today was not a race – it was just a training test to get me thinking about the real race in July. 

WIN: A media person with a VIP pass, stopped along the road and drove me to the start – what luck!

 

Swim

WIN:  glad my team mates told me to buy throw away flip-flops since the swim start is a rocky walk from T1. 

I had a good rhythm, breathing on every other stroke, both sides. When I swim, I listen to the bubbles I am blowing out, keeping my head down visualizing my bubbles like an extra engine to propel me.  There was absolutely NO visibility past the elbow, so nothing to look at.  I feel fortunate that I have no issues with swimming through milfoil or darkness.  My thoughts were to not worry about what other people were doing and to keep my breathing steady and my stroke consistent.  By the first turn T1, swimmers had spread out and there was less churn.  By T2, everything was going perfectly.  I swam by the T3 buoy and suddenly there was a lot of milfoil and splashing.  It was a nice surprise to realize, we were approaching the finish and everything was narrowing into the chute.  I expected to swim between a 2:15-2:30 / 100 yard pace, so 2:13 was just fine. My moving pace was 2:08.

WIN: didn’t get kicked in the face.

T1

OOPS: Should have pee’d in the water, so I wouldn’t have to waste time during transition. 

OOPS: getting wetsuit off was a struggle, had never done it alone.
 

Took my time making sure I was all set because I still have bad memories from my Olympic race in 2007 when my toes were cold for the entire race.  I didn’t want to be cold all day. 

Bike

I started slow as planned, to flush out the sea legs and consume calories.  At mile 10, I was slated to pick up the pace a bit, so I passed people when my watch indicated it was safe for me to do so. I learned something about myself though and need to work through a mental block.  After someone passes me, if they slow down and my HR numbers show that I have fallen from plan, I hesitate to pass the people that already passed me. I don’t feel worthy and I worry about them judging me. I need to work on feeling worthy of space and knowing that I have equal rights to pass, when I need to.  I also didn’t know there were no passing zones, in hindsight, would have made sure I wasn’t stuck behind someone during those zones.  My toes were cold for 20 miles, so when I stopped at aid station 2 (A2), I took the hand warmers out of the back pockets of my tri suit and put them in my shoes.  It really didn’t help. I stopped at 3 of the 4 aid stations to pee – which was a big bummer.  I really need to learn how to pee while in motion, because stopping is a big time burner.  I have no idea why I had to pee so much, this has never happened to me before – but at least I was not dehydrated or under nourished.  At A4, I removed the toe warmers and by then my toes were fine anyway.  I loved my arm warmers and found they can double as finger warmers in the start.  The end of the bike course has a lot of hills, so it’s a little unnerving to always be holding back and not blowing out the legs.  My coached wanted my average HR to be 135 and the numbers came in at 134.  There’s much room for improvement in this area.  I will use power numbers in Whistler. 

While riding 56 miles, the mind can sure think about a lot of things.  I think the draft zone should apply to driving cars too.  If a person passes you, you are required to drop back to remove yourself from the danger zone.  If drivers had that mentality, they would be less likely to feel competitive when being passed. 
 

OOPS: should have taped my HR plan to my bike as well as the elevation topography and the planned aid stations – since I couldn’t remember these details.

OOPS: at one point, there was no traffic and I was adjusting my helmet and must have come too close to the center line because at that very moment a Course Official on a motorcycle came by and sternly warned me I would be DQ’d if I cross the center line.

WIN: didn’t crash and no flats.

T2

OOPS: I dismounted correctly and walked into the grassy transition – at which point a volunteer stops me thinking my helmet strap is not fastened.  It was, but I found it weird that I was no longer on the road and was clearly safe.  I guess helmets can’t come off until done walking?  It made me wonder if I had noticed my chin strap being loose.

I really wish I could have captured a picture of Transition – it was a disaster.  It looked like a rich teenagers closet.  Stuff was strewn everywhere – was crazy.  I kept thinking, for sure something of mine will accidently end up in someone else’s bag by the end of the day.  I got everything back though – amazing.

I had some solid food options waiting, but felt like I took in enough calories on the bike to get me started during the run.  I had to pee again in T2, was really getting sick of peeing.  As I was heading out to run, I heard my team mate cross the finish.  I also saw my favorite Pro – Kenz Madison. 

Run

WIN: The temperature was great and there is a lot of shade on the loop around the Elk/Beaver Lake.

My plan was to start slow to get my HR stabilized and get my legs used to the ground again.  Many people were on their second loop and so they were running fast.  All the people cheering along the course, assume all runners are on the second loop and that is a little annoying.  Mentally, I kept my brain prepared for the moment I would enter the second loop and go right by all the celebrations at the finish.  I had a bum right hip, from training camp the week prior so my gate was a bit wonky to start.  I knew it would work itself out between 3-6 miles.  I had to stop 2 more times to pee.  I could feel blisters forming and dealt with a few rogue hot spots in the legs and feet.  On the second loop, the racers had thinned out.  I did not see anyone for a long time.  It was eery.  An aid station volunteer got my blisters bandaged up.  At mile 10, I knew I could finally lean into the run and deplete my storage.  I ran quite well and was in a total zen-state. My breathing got a little tough in the final mile and asthma like symptoms flared up.  I’ve experienced them in the past and it feels scary since a deep breath is impossible.  I remembered my friend Jaxy telling me that crying would intensify the breath blockage, so I tried to hold off the tears.  I was sad there was no one at the finish line so I knew the tears would come – both from feeling proud of myself and also missing my family.   

WIN: Loved my new Zoot tri suit, it wicked all moisture very well; lake water, pee, sweat.  Shockingly, I did not feel dirty all day – even though I was.   The built in bra worked perfectly. 

WIN: No intestinal issues.

 

Post-Race

OOPS: I realized I should have brought a sturdy big backpack for all my gear – since I had arrived in my wetsuit, trying to get everything to fit back into a carry bag, was impossible. 


I also no longer had front row parking, so it was a long walk to the car.  I was very upset that I was all alone and felt sorry for myself for a while.  I did not celebrate my finish at all, just wanted to get back to the car.  Was a strange way to end the day.  
 

WIN: Another racer’s wife saw me struggling and unselfishly helped me back to the car.  I couldn’t have made it without her. 

WIN: Got back to the Airbnb and found out it had a hot tub, so I iced my legs in Cordova Bay and then got in the tub.

 

Times

• Swim 36:34
• T1 9:29
• Bike 4:03:58
• T2 4:28
• Run 2:42:05
• Total 7:36:34

Prolific endurance sport author Matt Fitzgerald, "In endurance races, I feel that I come face to face with my naked soul in a way that I never do in everyday life.  Everything is stripped away; only bare consciousness remains.  But it is a divided consciousness; an urgent desire to QUIT - pitted against a tenacious will to CONTINUE.  I discover myself in these moments.  I don't know if I can intellectualize their benefits.  All I can say - as many others do - is that they are somehow purifying. And I keep going back for more."