Oceanside Race Report

Finally finished this thing up!  It was great to get the first tri of the year under my belt early.  I definitely felt a bit out of practice at some points, but I'm pretty happy with the results.  Here's how things went down.  Sorry, it's a bit long (in my defense, so was the race!).

Pre-race:
This is a 2 transition race, with T2 (bike to run) located about a mile from T1.  I'd dropped my run gear off at T2 the night before, so in the morning I had a quick walk from the hotel to T1 with my little 4-person family cheering squad and my swim and bike gear.  Not having my run gear made things both more simple and more complicated: fewer items to manage on race morning, but I was also a bit more paranoid about forgetting something or having it in the wrong place (I ended up having to run back into transition 5 minutes before it closed to drop off my race belt, so I guess it's good to be a little bit paranoid?).

Oceanside Harbor is somewhat narrow and the point of entry for us triathletes was a small ramp, so the start was broken up into age group waves and there was no swim warm-up area in the harbor.  My female 25-29 group was combined with the 45-49 women into wave #15, about 45 minutes after the first wave.  I took the time between the close of the transition area and my wave start to get in a short run warm-up.  I wasn't in any hurry to go stand in a pen in my wetsuit and wait, so I hung out with my family as long as possible while getting into my BlueSeventy wetsuit.  I'd taken Holly's Team Rev3 uniform top out for a quick test run earlier in the week to identify any areas that might chafe so that I could try to prevent that.  I've been using Trislide as an anti-chafing product for a few months and had great results with it on my long runs, but this was going to be its biggest test so far.  I got a few stares from my family members as I starting spraying myself with the little can. ("What is that?" "Lubricant." "Maybe we shouldn't ask questions").  Then it was finally time to dash off and join the rest of my wave.

Swim:
Each wave walked down the ramp into the water and the start was an in-water start at a buoy about 50 meters away.  The water wasn't as cold as it was originally expected to be, so I was one of the few people in a sleeveless wetsuit but I was comfortable.  The start was hard to hear and took me a little off guard, but after about 100 meters I found myself swimming stroke for stroke with one other girl and tucked in behind her to draft.  About 5 minutes later, we started coming up on the back of the previous wave's swimmers and I unfortunately lost her in the chaos.  From then on, I was swimming through steady traffic. I sighted a lot more often than normal to keep from running into legs, but did a pretty good job swimming straight.  My stroke felt ok, not great, but I just tried to keep turning over.  There was a nice tidal surge pushing us back into the harbor on the second half of the swim- a bit like bodysurfing!  Before I knew it I was rounding the last buoy and volunteers' arms were helping to pull me up the ramp.
time: 26:48, 2nd F25-29, 10th amateur F

Between the sleeveless wetsuit and a right arm that tends to fly high over the water, I was easy for my family to track

T1:
This was a pretty long run, down the length of the skinny transition area and then back down through it to my rack.  Aside from getting excited and starting to take my bike off the rack before I put my helmet on (doh) everything went smoothly.  The mount line was super crowded but I escaped without incident.
time: 3:28

Bike:
I was fortunate enough to be able to pre-drive most of the course over winter break because my mom has access to Camp Pendleton.  I'd heard from past participants that first half of the course usually had a tail wind and the last 5-10 miles often had a fierce head wind, so I planned my pacing accordingly.  The middle miles of the course (~ mile 28-42) are very hilly with a couple of climbs (particularly the one at mile 28) that made me regret the all of cookies I'd eaten over winter break.  One steep descent even had a no pass zone with a speed limit of 25 mph. If you ever do this race, take this seriously, it's as scary as advertised- the turn kept tightening near bottom, and barriers lined the side to try to keep anyone who took it too aggressively from flying into the canyon.  Yikes! The day was turning out to be sunnier than advertised, which was not a good thing considering I'd been counting on sunscreeners in T1 and hadn't found them. But the temperature was comfortable, and I stuck to my nutrition and power goals pretty well.  There was one strong woman I went back and forth with a couple times over the course of the 56 mi, but I wasn't really getting caught by any women until close to the end of the hilly stretch.  This was expected- it seems like most triathletes at my level come with a solid run background and have the corresponding body type, while I still look more like a short rower, or a swimmer who lifts weights.  It takes a bit more power to get me up and over the hills!  Instinctively I checked calves for their ages as they passed, even though these days I really consider myself as racing against all women (well, ok, and men, for that matter) instead of just my age group.  These ladies were all a little older, so it was nice to know I was still doing well in my group at least.  I had saved a bit of energy for the head wind in the last 5ish miles but it never showed up, so my legs got a little bit of a break into T2. 
time: 2:47:09,  through bike: 1st F25-29, still 10th amateur F

Nice surprise to find my dad on the little hill up to T2

T2:
Pretty uneventful.  I scrapped the flying dismount because the chute into T2 was narrow, my legs were wobbly, and I was with a few other racers.  The volunteers were helpful in pointing me down the right row of bags, so I zipped in and out, grabbing my Rev3 visor and starting a watch as I left.
time: 1:24

Run:
I hadn't done many bricks in the weeks prior to the race, and once I started running I was immediately concerned that I'd overcooked the hills on the bike.  Thankfully, my stride started to loosen up a bit a mile or so into the run.  I'd been lulled into complacency pre-race by the course profile, which shows very little variation in elevation over the run.  In actuality, virtually flat stretches were punctuated by several very short, steep climbs and drops as the course hopped back and forth between sea level and pier or street level.  I ended up walking part of the steep climbs each time, knowing from past experience that it would do me more harm than good to run up them.  This served me well, and soon I was anxious to know how I was doing.  I always use mile markers to help break up the run mentally.  For this race, I also planned to use them to make sure I didn't start too quickly.  However, I kept looking and no mile markers ever appeared.  I wasn't sure whether I was blind (possible), delirious (less likely), or they were just missing (REALLY unusual for a half), but it appeared I was on my own.  With a twisty first part of the course that made it not a true out-and-back, I wasn't even sure enough of where halfway was to check on my progress. So I kept focusing on my cadence and plugged along, hoping it was enough.

The sun continued to shine, a rarity for Oceanside in spring, and the temperature climbed up to about 70.  For most people this seems to be fantastic racing weather, but it was a bit warm for this Wisconsin girl.  I made sure to get water and ice at every aid station to cool me down, and it was just perfectly enough: by the time I started to heat up, another station was up ahead.  I'd planned to take gels on the course, but like at my full iron last fall, by the time I actually got to the run they sounded horrible.  I kept popping salt tablets to combat electrolyte loss, and got my calories from sports drink and cola instead.  Unlike at my half races last year, in which I'd had to slow to a walk through most aid stations to make sure I got everything, I made sure to at least kept jogging.  A couple times this meant I missed one thing, but with the more reasonable temperature (instead of 80-85* and humid, typical for summer in Wisconsin) it wasn't disastrous and I made sure to pick up whatever I missed at the next station.  A bunch of women passed me during the run, but at that point calf numbers were wearing off and it was hard to tell who was on lap 1 vs. lap 2, so I just kept focusing on myself.  As I came down the final stretch and watched the pier get closer and closer, I realized I was on track to break 1:45 and gleefully tore towards the finish line. Bonus: absolutely no chafing, thank you Trislide!!!
run time: 1:42:54
Total: 5:01:43, 1st F25-29, 17th amateur F

entering the finish chute!

 My major take-home points for a good long course race:

• learn as much as you can about the specific race conditions: course, weather, locations of on-course support, and make a plan accordingly
• know your body, and be prepared to adjust your plan on the fly

Overall, I'm pretty happy with the way this race turned out.  If you read my pre-race blog post, you know that I'd been a bit apprehensive . I was expecting to finish between 5:05 and 5:15.  One of my goals this season is to finally break 5 hours. This was my 4th time turning in a half iron between 5:00:00 and 5:02:00, and actually 3 of those were between 5:01:40 and 5:01:50- uncanny!  It was a bit frustrating to be so close again, but 5:01 is pretty good for this course.  My finishing place was also decent- in the high teens is where I've finished in the amateur field at other big races in the past 2 years, but the field at Oceanside is deeper than most of those. Still, I'll be hoping for 5th-10th at big races a couple times this year.

By discipline: I think I swam about as fast here as my current fitness would allow: check!  My bike wattage was a little bit lower than some of my better races last season, but I know that will come back soon with more time outside on the road.  The run is the part of this race that makes me do a little happy dance.  It has lagged significantly behind my swim and bike in the past, and my half iron runs have been consistently ~1:50-1:53.  One of my other goals for 2013 was to break 1:50 in a half run leg and to get in the 1:45 ballpark.  To do so in my first race is a testament to how much effort I've put into cadence and form work with Coaches Jessica and Bill at SBR Coaching over the winter.  It looks like I'm finally bringing the run closer to the level of my other two.  It's not quite there yet, but this was a big step!  Next up: trying to find some speed for Collegiate Nationals.

Final advice: wear your sunscreen, kiddos.  If you guessed that my race number started with "19", you are correct...

Early Season Experimentation

The Race
As a native San Diegan, I've had the city of Oceanside on my radar for a long time- it's only about a 40 minute drive from where I grew up.  My family took frequent trips up to the harbor when I was a girl to enjoy the beach, stroll through the cute shops, and generally just take a little break. When I took up triathlon and learned there was a race that began in the harbor, it immediately went on my "to-do" list.  The bike course even goes through the Marine base at Camp Pendleton, where one set of my grandparents met.  Last summer I noticed that the 2013 race would fall at the end of UW's spring break week- at last the timing was right, and I signed up.

Eye-Yi-Yi
As luck would have it, over winter break I developed an ulcer on the cornea of my right eye, a problem I also had once in high school.  I have been a contact wearer since 8th grade and switched to daily contacts after the first problem.  This time, after treatment and evaluation the doctor concluded that my eyes were having too much of an allergic reaction to the contacts, and that I would always be prone to problems while wearing them.  Essentially he put his foot down: I needed to be in glasses full time, or have vision correction surgery.  My lifestyle as a triathlete is definitely NOT conducive to glasses, so surgery it would be.  The scarring on my right eye from the past ulcers meant that Lasik was not safe on that eye, and even the alternative procedure (PRK) was a bit trickier than normal.  I trust my San Diego ophthalmologist completely- he is one of best in the US and helped me through my previous problems, knew my history.  I wouldn't want the procedure to be done by anyone else.  So we formed a new plan: since I would be out in CA in March anyway for the race, I would now arrive a little bit earlier, have the surgery immediately, and leave a safe cushion of a few days between healing and racing.

ready for some quality laser time

All in all, my preparation so far this year has not quite been ideal.  My fitness, particularly my swim fitness, took a bit of a hit over winter break with the eye problem, again last month with a bad flu, then with some "forced taper" due to the eye surgery.  Still, I have had a few good workouts this spring, particularly run workouts, and put in some quality time on the trainer. At this point, my left eye has fully recovered, at least.  Vision in my right eye is still a bit blurry (though not as bad as pre-surgery) so I'll have to be patient with that one and I was cleared to race in a temporary contact to "balance me out" better.  With everything that's been going on lately, it's hard to know what to expect from this race.  This is the longest one I've done this early in the year, and it's a bit scary for me to pick a half as my first race of the season.

Race "Goals"
Since I'm not quite sure where I stand right now, my race plan tomorrow is basically to be flexible(!).  If nothing else, this race will be a fun chance to race by my hometown and get in a solid long workout.  Because it's close, a lot of family will be able to be there to watch.  It definitely helps a ton to see friendly faces during a race! Hopefully it will be a good way for me to clear out the cobwebs and burn off some nerves before I line up in Tempe at Collegiate Nationals in 2 weeks.  Every year I definitely get a bit rusty on my transitions, etc. during the winter months, and it's already been valuable to spend time practicing race skills like bike dismounts in prep for this race.

Taking my BlueSeventy out for a practice swim!

Tomorrow will also be my first race representing Team Rev3! Our 2013 kits won't debut until Knoxville, but my teammate Holly generously lent me her 2012 kit for the weekend.  If you'll be in the area, look for me rocking the awesome blue and green Pearl Izumi Rev3 kit!

It's the little victories...

This is the time of year (at least up north!) when it is easy to start getting frustrated.  Most athletes have been training for the new season for a few months.  Athlete or not, many people's favorite activities are getting continually pushed aside by the cold, wet weather.  Everyone seems to be sick.  Spring is close, yet at times seems so far.  Work and training drag on.

When I took the time in the fall to write out some and areas I could improve for 2013, bike handling was one item that popped off the page.  Early this year I'll be competing at a number of races that require good handling skills.  These include the draft-legal race at USAT Collegiate Nats in April and the hilly course I've been hearing about at Rev3 Knoxville in May.  On technical courses, it's easy to lose a lot of time if your cornering skills aren't up to snuff.  And in draft-legal races, poor handling can result in ending up on the pavement, or putting other people there.  Either way, not good.  One of the ways I planned to work on my handling was riding on rollers.  I'd never done it, but knew it would be good for me.

4laps = 4 180's.  Probably in a pack.

For those of you not intimately acquainted with cycling equipment, rollers are metal cylinders, about a foot long, that are attached to rails.  When you ride a bike on top, the turning wheels spin the metal rolls so that you can ride in place, inside. Since the bike isn't attached to the rollers in any way, starting and stopping take some skill.  Just riding requires concentration.  If the bike tips, so do you.  Drift too far to either side, and you ride off of the metal roll and crash.  The whole process is an exercise in balance.

silvery rolls of death

Anyway, the end of February rolls around and I have not mustered the courage to hop on. As many of you know, I am not the world's most graceful person.  I hurt myself often enough to have stopped paying much attention to it.  From early on I've gravitated to sports that require strength and fitness, rather than coordination and skill.  I'm also the type of person who cherishes a sense of control.  To many people, hopping on rollers is not a giant deal.  But to me, the prospect of trying to balance on them was terrifying.  With races looming, it was time to bite the bullet.

The standard advice for learning how to ride rollers is to set them up in a hallway, so that you can hang on to the walls as needed to start, or catch yourself from falling far.  Wanting all the help I could get, I did this, grabbed my helmet for good measure, and trekked upstairs with my tri bike.  Luckily Coach Bill was around to give pointers.  I was reminded of my first time trying to clip into bike pedals outside-- it had taken 20 minutes of pep talk from friends while I freaked out before I took off and did it.  This was a similar experience.  Freaking out, nervous giggling, check.  How do I clip in my second shoe?  Which hand do I want on the wall while I start to ride?  How can I transfer that hand to the bars without falling over?  What's the best way to save myself if I go down?

After about 10 minutes of alternately riding slowly with one hand on the wall, flinching, catching myself, and trying not to hyperventilate, I pinpointed the largest source of my terror.  It wasn't so much me that I was concerned about injuring... it was my pretty carbon bike.  I had visions dancing through my head of punching a hole in the down tube with a cleat as I fell, and my nerves were not helping the learning process.  So I rolled away my pretty bike in favor of my pal Fred the Commuter.  He's red and metal and has simple pedals and only goes one speed.  He's virtually indestructible.  Perfect.

Armed with confidence, I worked my hand down the wall as I rode... then experimented with lifting it off the wall slightly and balancing... then moved it to the bars with my other hand.  Honestly, it felt momentous. The joy was a bit like learning how to ride a bike for the first time.  I was doing it.  A couple minutes at a time, a little break, then a few more.  I got comfortable enough to adjust my hands on the bars, my position in the saddle, my cadence, etc.  It was kind of... fun.

Sometimes you just have to suck it up and do the things that try your patience and make you look like a giant dork in order to take steps forward.

Case in point.  This was not meant to be a photo op.  Sneaky coach.

I may look dumb, but at least I'm not in a heap on the ground with a hole in my tri bike.  And now that I know I can handle the rollers on my commuter, I can graduate to my tri bike the next time.  I WILL get the hang of this.

This is a great time of year to finish fixing the little things we claim we are going to work on in the off season, before spring racing arrives.  So the next time you find yourself frustrated, in a rut, bored with your winter routine, or sidelined from one of the activities you'd rather be doing, try picking something small to master.  Maybe something new.  Maybe something that seems trivial.  Practice taking off your wetsuit in the shower.  Practice flying dismounts at your neighborhood park.  Embrace the baby steps!

What little things are you doing now to get better?

Taking the Plunge

Welcome to my inaugural blog post!  I've been thinking about starting a blog off and on for the past year or so, and I feel like the time is finally right to make the leap.

So, why now?
I am a naturally contemplative person, but I've been thinking even more than usual lately. About who I want to be, what I want to do, the things that are important to me.  I've been through a number of big changes in my personal life, my academic life, and my triathlon life over the past few months.  2013 is shaping up to be a year of new experiences, new challenges, and new opportunities.  I am a dissertator (scary!).  I have been selected as a member of Team Revolution3 Triathlon for 2013 (much more on this later!).  It seems I will be traveling a lot in the coming months, both for work and for racing.  I never came up with "resolutions" for 2013 per se, but I did spend some time thinking about various things I wanted to focus on, more like broad goals or overarching themes for the year (I do have athletic goals too, and those are much more specific, but we won't go there right now).  One of my aims for the year is to make sure I step out of my comfort zone a bit more- to try new things, meet new people, be open to new experiences, branch out, grow.  It's going to be an exciting year, and I'd like to document some of it here.

Some of my new Rev3 teammates!

So, what is this, exactly?
Honestly, this blog will probably be a lot like me... a mix of many different things.  Part journal, part travelogue, part training diary, part advice column, with some race reports and general musings thrown in.  Bear with me while I find my blogging legs. I hope it will serve as a way for the people in my life to keep up with me, a resource for people interested in the sport of triathlon, and a lot more.  I'd love to pass along some of the things I've learned (and continue to learn) along my way.  Thanks for coming along for the journey.