Do things ever go “as planned?” 11 days ago I did my first 70.3 Half “Ironman” race at HITS Lake Havasu. 
I had planned on finishing somewhere between 6 and 7 hours. I finished in over 8 hours! I still have not even looked at my finisher’s time because, frankly, I don’t want to see it in writing. But I am making peace with time, just not my official time.
I had trained for 11 months for this race. I thought I was ready, and I was. I was physically conditioned. I had my race visualized in my head. I knew how long the swim, bike and run would take. I knew how many gels I would need. I had my nutrition all laid out. I arrived at the race venue a day ahead of time. I pre-rode part of the course………and there was the problem. I only pre-rode PART of the course.
It was getting dark while I was on my pre-ride and I was out alone. I was riding though what seemed like a sketchy area and I thought to stop and ask for directions of the two men who were standing by the side of the road. Then I noticed they were standing by an adult book store. Better just keep riding, dearie.
So I did. I rode further up and was hoping to see this cross street, Fathom road, or something like that. It never came. There was just expansive desert and a two lane road that lead to seemingly nowhere. It was getting towards sunset. No. Better just turn around and go back to the condo. This is Lake Havasu for Pete’s sake. I hadn’t seen a hill I couldn’t take since I left home in the mountains. Whatever. I did my due diligence and turned back.
Fast forward to the next day. I was there super early as I am also a vendor and had a tent to set up. The winds were starting in. Like REALLY set in. I am no fan of wind but I have survived some pretty crazy stuff, so we had this in the bag. I hoped it would die down. The weather reports said there were supposed to be 7 mph winds during the swim the next day and then relatively nothing. By the end of that night, the palm trees were still blowing sideways. OK. My nemesis on the bike has decided to follow me to my FIRST 70.3!
I went to bed that night listening to the wind rip through the desert. Oh well. Nothing I can do about that. Maybe it will go away over night. It did. For the swim….I can take white caps on a swim. I love it. I find it fun and exhilarating to have to change sides to breathe. No. The swim was smooth sailing. No biggie. Too short, if you asked me.
Onto the bike and things were OK. Adrenaline was kicking in and I didn’t notice the wind too much until I got out on to the Lake side of the “Island” loop…Whooooo Doggie….what should have been the fun, fast part of the ride was nasty….just nasty. In the aero position I had the best chance against the wind, but it took a few gnarly wobbles to take the confidence out of me. By now I was cussing a fair amount. How. Why. REALLY?
Well this is cool. The flags are whipping sideways. Maybe not so cool. All 138 lbs of me and whatever my bike weighs don’t equal a whole lot when a sudden gust shoots up off the lake. Wobble, wobble. Then through the parking lot, through the speed bumps, through the gravel (Yes, gravel!) and a sharp left onto the shared space bike path. On the side walk, off the sidewalk, sharp left going the wrong way on the road, more gravel in a dip, in and out of a bunch of cones and FINALLY onto London Bridge road. (This little course in bike handling skills took us off the sketchy area with the xxx shop from the day before. It had a lot less gravel!)
Now we are onto a road I can actually hunker down and get some speed built up with. And then the wind decided it was going to be in my face, as well as the gradual incline up to Fathom road. Grrrrr. Whatever. Just high cadence and stop F-Bombing so you can save your energy. Everyone else is struggling. Just go and shut up.
I made it to Fathom Hill and saw it, THE (one) aid station. Woo hoo! This is 15 miles in. Yes. I lived!!!! This is where I will get my water on the way back. Where’s this stupid hill? And then, there it was. Are you kidding me? I have been told it is a 23% grade. Men were paper boying it up this thing and the wind was Wicked, coming at you from the right and blowing you all the way to the left side of the lane. Quick decent down and then get on it girlie, because that booger needs some momentum.
I made it about a quarter of the way up and began paper boying it myself. I am not getting off this freaking bike. I can do this! And I did….all the way to the top…at which point you could not see the bottom .
I don’t know about you but I have had this dream where you get to the top of a really steep hill and your car kinda just flips over from gravity. Or, put it like this, you know that feeling you get when you are on a roller coaster and it is going up, click, click, click, click, and you can only see sky. This hill was like that. The descent was crazy stupid. I got off and walked it. Yep. I kissed my race goodbye and walked it. I had to do this stupid hill twice. People were flying past me screaming for their lives. I am not kidding you. A grown man yelled, “MY BRAKES WON’T WORK!” A lady screamed, “THIS IS CRAZY!”
Mind you, I am a baby when it comes to descending. I try and stay off the brakes but at about 29 mph my mind says, Hey, what would happen if you fell right now? and then I tap the brakes. I am not a downhiller. I am a big baby. My husband thinks it is great when he hits double nickels on his bike. We have good life insurance for both of us, but his is much better.
Being a baby, I do ride mountain roads. I ride to Idyllwild and Pine Cove, I descend just fine on switch backs now. But this stupid hill was straight down and then straight back up again. Paper boy up the other side, left turn, paper boy up another and then screaming fast down…this last hill at least had somewhere to go with all that speed. When I finished the first set of hills I realized I have to do this TWICE. I am NOT going to DNF, I will just walk down that stupid hill.
After this decision I realized a 6 or even 7 hour finish was not in my future. So I decided, then and only then, to have fun. Fun is not part of my race strategy. I want to place, dammit. Fun comes after. But this time, fun was all I had left. I started to be nice to myself. No more F-bombing. I refilled my aero water bottle and didn’t drop the bottle. Go me. I saw my husband who was running sag. I smiled. I was now having fun.
The way back to the Island was AWESOME. This is how racing should feel. It was a gradual descent and the wind was at my back. OH BABY! I was hauling! The fasties were on their way back for their second loop and they had on pain face….it wasn’t just me. I wasn’t such a baby anymore. This is also the point in the race that you see you are not the slowest person. Mentally I was on the rebound.
I knew where the gravel pits were this time and avoided them. I didn’t, however, account for the two way bike traffic on the sidewalk. That was sketchy as heck and I think a really bad idea. (I did submit a survey to the race company, which I think puts on an overall awesome venue).
By the time I got back to the Island some of my out of town friends and tri club members had gotten there. I was more confident and felt like I could finish. The second loop was much better than the first since I got out of my own way with my hissy fit checked at the bottom of Fathom Hill.
T2 was better than T1 because all my friends were there. I was feeling good. I got out onto the run and felt great. I wasn’t super fast and I meant to start out slower. I didn’t know that slower was relative. I also didn’t have a clue what time of the day it was, and didn’t care. It was fun. My friends had these great signs made up, and one day, when I figure out this wordpress gig I will have more pics up. My favorite sign “Don’t Stop People are WATCHING” … had silver glitter and a unicorn. Yep. Friends are the best.
I learned a lot that day. I learned that I do not like more than 6 gels in any given day. By the end of the bike, which took an HOUR longer than I had planned, I was out of gels and getting dehydrated. I had planned on one gel and one endurolyte every half hour. I stuck to the endurolyte plan, but I still want to gag when I see a gel packet.
I refused gels on the run except for two which I forced down. All I wanted at that point were Lays potato chips. I had apparently become dehydrated and was trying desperately to get in some salt. I ate a few grapes, I drank one 24 oz. bottle of water over the course of the 13.1 miles (it was actually shorter). I started talking to the people at the aid stations and asking them where everyone was. I honestly thought I was the last one out there, and I was the last one in my age group to finish. 8th out of 8 is top ten, right?
I started seeing the full distance athletes start their run and I was just full of smiles and encouragement.This is what I do when I am delirious. All the angst is gone and I turn nice. Why not? I finally made it to the part of the run where you pass under the London Bridge and a volunteer asked me if my husband was really tall. Yes, Yes he is! He’s waiting for you right over there. He ran the last couple of yards with me and I have never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life. ALL my friends were at the finish line and I was exhilarated! I did it…my little body had carried me over 70.3 miles that day (75 if you add up all my splits).
So, coming to terms with my time has been a process. I have put off writing a race report for 11 days. I just felt so embarrassed at first, but now I am letting myself be proud of all I did and all I have learned in the last 11 months. It wasn’t just the 8 hours or so on course, it was the countless hours preparing, and the support my family and friends have given me along the way. No, I didn’t win, but I am OK with that. There will be more races and better days but nothing can take away the sense of accomplishment I achieved that day, and that’s all that matters to me, right now.
Meanderings of a MerMom 