1) I never intentionally try to mess anyone else's race up to my advantage.
2) Some people take themselves way to seriously.
3) Racing is supposed to be fun... and I love it.
We (the OSU tri team) camped overnight in Oxbow state park, an oasis of woods, river trails, and sandy-muddy beaches, smack next to the airport in downtown Portland. But you would never have known it because it was utterly quiet (birds not withstanding), cell phones didn't work, the toilets were latrines, and the water was from a spigget in to ground. J and J made a huge pot of spaghetti, peach cobbler (camping-style), bean salad, and garlic bread. Not bad for a spread in the woods. We all had our fill and then some because a few people who had planned on making it for dinner stopped on the way...including one chica, who ate so much food at the Olive Garden that she had a food-baby.
The night dissolved into hysterical laughter around the camp fire and before long it was 11:00 and time to turn in for tomorrow mornings 5:30 am start.
I camp in style: blow-up mattress, pillow, so needless to say, I slept great. Despite a visit from a sasquatch in the night that ate our leftover bread.
Given that the race was 8:00 am and only a 15 minute drive away, I felt that getting up at 5:30 was a little much, but once people start stirring in a campsite, everyone is up. We made cowboy coffee and oatmeal and hopped in the cars. Leaving proved to be difficult as the rangers were not keen on opening the gate to the park before 6:30 am. So much for getting to the race early. I was fine, you know me, but there were others who felt slightly rushed.... (but we don't need number 2) yet.
C. and I rocked out to Top Gun on the drive over and by the time we rolled our bikes into transition, we were both thoroughly pumped up. Getting body-marked was interesting. They used the biggest, frickin' black markers I have ever seen and because I was number 9, I jokingly suggested that the body-marker put a line underneath it so that people would know it was a nine instead of a six. I thought it was funny. It must have been too early for her.
The transition didn't have numbers on the racks, but rather numbers on the ends of the racks, so that at least all the people in the elite wave were clustered together. I picked out a bare spot and popped my bike into it. As I was starting to set up gear, a woman in my wave comes running up with her bike and informs me that I have put my bike in her spot (remember rule #1). There was clearly room for two bikes, but the way she intended to rack hers (by the seat, with most of the bike on the opposite side of the rack from her transition) meant that her front wheel would be sitting square where I would transition. I started to explain this to her, and she proceeded not to listen to me, getting more and more upset, until she finally squeaked out, "but I got here at 6:00 am..." And that is all she had to say. If she was willing to show up at a local Olympic distance event two hours before her start just to get a good position in transition (rule #2), then I would move my bike. In the end, I was racked on the very inside of the rack, far away from Squeaker.
Even with all this, I was excited about racing with friends (rule #3) and down to the swim start I headed with my wetsuit only half way up to show off my Splish suit (the butterfly one). Everyone in my wave had a purple cap, and by some error, I had a red one. The race officials made me run off to the announcer booth to switch caps (whatever), and the elite men and women entered into the chilly water for our treading start. I should mention that the "elite wave" was a mix of pros and top amateurs.
At the gun, about 30 men and women churned the water, heading toward the first buoy. I found my groove so fast, faster than I think I have ever done, and was able to stay fairly close to the top people in my age group for most of the swim, as it flew by. I even managed to follow a straight line to a each buoy even as a man in my wave weaved back and fourth in front of me, finally tiring and unsuccessfully trying to get on my feet after I bee-lined a buoy and he accidentally swung wide. Out of the swim in 21:51, I made quick work of the transition (eventually faster than the Squeaker) and headed out onto the bike in 2nd.
The bike was flat-to-rolling with a long out and back following a quick side-trip to add distance. The wind was blowing in from the side, and the road was totally exposed, with a large lake on one side and Portland International Airport. My pre-race pump-me-up Top Gun music seemed oddly appropraite and I imagined myself on a motorcycle racing a plane.
Quick note here, I was secretly competing against JoeB on the OSU team, and though he and I had come out of transition together (mine was faster), he pulled away fast and I didn't seem him again until the turn around. Also somewhere around the turn around I passed two women (I thought I was in second?)... one of whom had clearly been drafting off the other for about ten miles. I know, because I picked out the classic pedal slow of someone out of the wind and also the fast that I watched her at the turn around and she was a scant 5 ft behind the other woman. Nevermind that, though, I passed both convincingly (the only way to do it) on one of the rare uphills. JoeB at this point was over 2 minutes ahead of me (darn!), even though I averaged over 23 mph.
I had a little trouble sliding my feet into my running shoes in T2 and as I headed out of transition my hat flew off of my skinny head in the slight wind. Someone yelled to me that a woman was less than a minute ahead of me (?!). Okay, seriously, these weren't manish looking women...who's having trouble counting? But despite all that, I again found my groove almost instantly. All that mental practice really paid off! I settled into what I thought might be a good pace, and wheeled in the phantom woman and a lot of the men. I was movin'. I was gaining on JoeB and at the turnaround I realized that the woman in front of me and the drafter on the bike were both in the duathlon (oh!). But unfortunately, I think JoeB got a little adrenaline nug when he saw me gaining, and in the end, I fell 20 seconds short of catching him. But it was my fastest 10K in five years... 38:07 (6:08 per mile; fastest woman by 1:43; 6th fastest in the race). I had to be happy with that. And I was!
Even with all this, I was excited about racing with friends (rule #3) and down to the swim start I headed with my wetsuit only half way up to show off my Splish suit (the butterfly one). Everyone in my wave had a purple cap, and by some error, I had a red one. The race officials made me run off to the announcer booth to switch caps (whatever), and the elite men and women entered into the chilly water for our treading start. I should mention that the "elite wave" was a mix of pros and top amateurs.
At the gun, about 30 men and women churned the water, heading toward the first buoy. I found my groove so fast, faster than I think I have ever done, and was able to stay fairly close to the top people in my age group for most of the swim, as it flew by. I even managed to follow a straight line to a each buoy even as a man in my wave weaved back and fourth in front of me, finally tiring and unsuccessfully trying to get on my feet after I bee-lined a buoy and he accidentally swung wide. Out of the swim in 21:51, I made quick work of the transition (eventually faster than the Squeaker) and headed out onto the bike in 2nd.
The bike was flat-to-rolling with a long out and back following a quick side-trip to add distance. The wind was blowing in from the side, and the road was totally exposed, with a large lake on one side and Portland International Airport. My pre-race pump-me-up Top Gun music seemed oddly appropraite and I imagined myself on a motorcycle racing a plane.
Quick note here, I was secretly competing against JoeB on the OSU team, and though he and I had come out of transition together (mine was faster), he pulled away fast and I didn't seem him again until the turn around. Also somewhere around the turn around I passed two women (I thought I was in second?)... one of whom had clearly been drafting off the other for about ten miles. I know, because I picked out the classic pedal slow of someone out of the wind and also the fast that I watched her at the turn around and she was a scant 5 ft behind the other woman. Nevermind that, though, I passed both convincingly (the only way to do it) on one of the rare uphills. JoeB at this point was over 2 minutes ahead of me (darn!), even though I averaged over 23 mph.
I had a little trouble sliding my feet into my running shoes in T2 and as I headed out of transition my hat flew off of my skinny head in the slight wind. Someone yelled to me that a woman was less than a minute ahead of me (?!). Okay, seriously, these weren't manish looking women...who's having trouble counting? But despite all that, I again found my groove almost instantly. All that mental practice really paid off! I settled into what I thought might be a good pace, and wheeled in the phantom woman and a lot of the men. I was movin'. I was gaining on JoeB and at the turnaround I realized that the woman in front of me and the drafter on the bike were both in the duathlon (oh!). But unfortunately, I think JoeB got a little adrenaline nug when he saw me gaining, and in the end, I fell 20 seconds short of catching him. But it was my fastest 10K in five years... 38:07 (6:08 per mile; fastest woman by 1:43; 6th fastest in the race). I had to be happy with that. And I was!
Next up: Pacific Crest Half-iron distance in Sunriver, OR. June 28.
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