SOMA half

Depression, guilt, frustration, and even anger. These are not the feelings one wants to be experiencing leading up to a big race at the end of the year. If I am going to continue doing this sport I need to figure out how to keep my emotions from controlling me. Regardless of my feelings and condition, race day was here and there was nothing more I could do about it. At the very least maybe I should just try to have a good time right?

4:00AM, Sunday, October 23, 2011. My alarm clock began beeping from across the motel room. Both Brianne and I awoke in the dark and quietly began getting ready for my 6:32AM wave start. It’s funny looking back now but after I had decided to just have fun and enjoy my time out on the course in sunny Tempe, AZ, my head began to finally come out of my ass. I love training and racing, but I can make myself physically sick if I think about it too much. More than anything, this race was all about having fun and enjoying the experience. I took extra time that morning to savor my pop tarts and enjoy my cold coffee.

The pro wave started right at 6:30 which left the next wave (my wave) exactly 2 minutes to hop in the water and swim the 200 meters to the start line. Unfortunately, it took about 4 minutes for our whole wave to reach the official starting line. My plan for the swim was to take it relatively easy and make sure to swim in a straight line this time, not swimming any farther than I had to. Since I started far back in our wave (due to our wave not being ready in time) I spent a lot of time running into people’s feet. At the turn around buoy I paused for a mental check and realized I still felt very comfortable with my efforts. I held my effort all the way back maintaining the course and enjoying the sights of my surroundings from the water level.

Personally, I hate it when I hear people say they didn’t give a 100% effort and they still beat you. But I must admit I did just that. I pretty much “dogged” the swim.

As I made my way through transition I was making it a priority to smile and make light of the whole situation. Hey, getting out of your wet suit as quick as possible is pretty dang funny. I now know for me it is critical to smile and enjoy the whole experience of racing. As soon as I forget to do that, I seem to fall apart.

So now I’m a couple of miles into the 56 mile bike ride and I am still continuing with my 75% “dogged” effort. Unfortunately as much as I am enjoying the whole experience of the screaming spectators, the aid stations, and the warm sunny weather, a pack of about ten other riders are riding at my same speed. Since I am in no hurry, I am happy to ride behind the group (legally of course) and just watch. As we start creeping up a hill I decide to ride my own pace and so I move to the front. Then coming back down the hill the whole group starts passing me again. No problem I’m thinking, just let them do their thing. Soon I’m noticing that the first lap (of three) will be over soon and the group I’ve been trailing is beginning to annoy me with their pitiful distance perception on legal drafting and their unsteady pace. I’m feeling pretty awesome at this point riding at 75% so I decide it’s time to try cranking up the effort to 90%.

The rest of the first lap felt great and so was the second lap. I was riding hard but definitely not at full speed. Despite riding entirely below my (perceived) capabilities, I approached the end of the final lap with my legs beginning to feel funny. I was hoping they would last a little longer for the final discipline, the run.

At the start of the run I was way farther up in the ranks than I thought. Definitely nice to see, but I had to remember this is a triathlon, not a duathlon. The finish is still 13.1 miles away. The goal now was to stay as patient as I could and just keep running, even if it was slow. Despite staying patient, I started catching people anyway. The first person I ran up to, I made it an effort to talk and keep pace with hopefully getting me to slow down. My “pacer” didn’t last nearly as long as I hoped when he suddenly slowed after twenty seconds and said, “Well, good luck man.” In another mile or so, still trying to patient, I ran up to one of the pro women. “How’s it going,” I said, trying to sound normal… Nothing. “What’s your pace you’re trying to hit?” I said anyway (now knowing this was not the sort of question you ask a pro, especially a tired and irritated pro)… Nothing. “Okay, well good race,” I said as I slowly moved forward.

As I waited for my legs to fall apart at any second but still feeling okay, I made my way up on another lady pro. “How’s it going?” I said anyway, this time not expecting much… Nothing. “Well good job.” I said as I ran ahead. It was shortly after this that my hamstring had finally had enough and cramped up. Great, I have like 8 miles to go and I’m cramping already. This is going to be a long, long run home. I stopped to stretch and my hammy surprisingly felt much better. I was able to run (relatively) normal again. I caught back up to the lady pro but I didn’t feel like passing her again so I just hung back a few feet. At the beginning of the second and final lap I needed a pit stop…BAD! I had taken some electrolytes during the bike for the first time ever so I wonder if that had anything to do with it. Anyway, as I began running again my spark seemed to be missing. I was having trouble getting my feet to come off the ground and I noticed I was running the same pace as everyone else, now swarming onto the course. Soon I began having trouble just keeping up with those around me and my groin began to hint another cramp was coming. Yes, the end was upon me and even if I wanted to race, I couldn’t. I was a cramping and bonking mess. The last 5 miles I would be exercising the bonkaroo shuffle. I felt like quitting and laying down but I finished.

I finished in a very sub-par, eighth place in my age group and twenty first over all. But considering my state of mind and training approach the last five to six weeks, I am happy I started the race and even happier I finished. So now I guess it is time to sit back, take things a little easier, and think about what improvements can be made for next year. I am looking forward to a new season and I am looking forward to improving. I am even looking forward to a having a coach which for me I feel could be huge. But I think most importantly, I am looking forward to having more fun like I did here at SOMA.