Change of plans

My question to a half-awake Doug at 5:50 AM - "How about the one with a rainbow, a unicorn, and a gnome, Okay?"

(You know you want a new sweet swimsuit like this one... Psst, Splish is having a sale!)

Swam a couple of laps in the New Town lake as part of the Big Shark Open Water Swim series finale.  Would have followed that up immediately with my Big Shark tri club teammates and a ride to St. Pauli, but alas - still had the mountain pedals on the road bike from last week's Urban Assault.  Of course, I didn't realize this until I tried to clip in.  Doh!

This necessitated a long drive (40- minutes) home kicking myself the whole way.  Once I switched pedals, I traded the flats of the Missouri Bottom Lands for the bluffs and valleys of the Meramec River hill zones West of Clarkson Rd. and beyond all by myself.  I say that, but there were so many people I recognized on the road that the term "alone" really didn't apply.  Part of the reason I saw so many riders: I took different routes and changed it up a little bit so that I was riding up hills I normally ride down, effectively salmoning people's typical bike routes.  Made for a pretty sweet ride - change is good.

In summary, one Saturday, one swim, one ride, one chocolate banana recovery smoothie.

Race Report: Memphis in May

April Showers bring May....showers, at least in Tunica, MS.  Memphis in May, made-over with a new location, new race venue, and new course had every bit the hydra-themed excitement it could muster.  A region inundated by floods, so much so that the casino "island" where the race was being held had only recently reopened its doors to patrons after the major flood threats had passed.  The race course, swim lake included, was a pristine as it could get.  Clean water.  Flat, fast, mostly pothole clear roads.  In fact, no debris to speak of on the roads except for the minuscule road grit that is inevitable.  It promised to be a very fast race.

My start position was #1064 in the time trial start...every 3 seconds a swimmer jumps into the water.  Which meant that I was standing around watching the thunder clouds roll in for about 50 minutes.  30 minutes into my wait, the rain started.  Followed quickly by the thunder and lightening so close, that they were nearly crashing together.  And still the swimmers dove into the water every 3 seconds.  I looked around at the hundreds of wetsuit-clad swimmers awaiting their turn, looking non-plussed.  Despite the lightening, I experienced a true lemming moment (Splish... I sense a new swimsuit design out of this one.  "Faster than lightening" or something like that).  Swim start.

In the shallow (at its deepest, probably 6 ft), choppy lake, it took me 500 yds at least to settle in to pace.  I found a good set of feet to draft off for the longest straight-away of the race, before they pulled off to the right following some invisible sight line that I could not fathom.  I sprinted out of the water into a steamy downpour and ran through the mud of the transition to my bike.  My first thought as I tore at my wetsuit - "I need to practice my transitions more".  Besides that, it was quick work getting on to the road.

Once on the road, I settled down into a pace that kept me in site of my nearest competitor in the Open Amateur Female division.  She had an aero helmet and a disc wheel and when I finally pulled around her, she commented that the weather was "scary".  Agreed, but I didn't want to dwell on it.  The roads were treacherous enough... by themselves, the pavement was smooth and impeccably maintained for the race.  The rain and wet, however, increased the chances of a flat tire, especially on over-inflated time-trial tires.  Along the race course, there were at least 1-2 people per mile dealing with a puncture.

The bike course was FLAT and fast, and I generally did the passing, except for a few elite amateur males and, to my dismay a couple of elite amateur females.  Disc wheel passed me back just before the finish of the bike, and I did my best to stick on her tail (that would be in a non-drafting tail).  Still raining, though back to a light drizzle, I did my best interpretation of a bike-to-run transition.

Here's a shocker, the run was flat and fast.  I was thankful for the overcast skies, slightly miffed at the head wind the last two miles, and confused as to which of the women I was passing where actually in my category (we did not have any special designation on our calves for the open wave).  As the miles ticked by, my legs eventually found a rhythm.  And I passed, one, then two, then two at once of the competitors in front of me.  And there was still one up there.... At the turn around, I cursed my ability to math in my head.  The lead woman had a whopping two minutes on me with two miles to go!  It didn't quite take the wind out of my sails, but my legs were slightly less springy as the wind picked up, the humidity rose, and the specter of the casino towers crawled into view.

The last few miles went by in a blur.  Actually, the "blur" was the young woman who pulled a brilliantly classic runner move to pass me in the final 200m to take second place from my clutches.  She had started 9 seconds behind me in the time-trial start, so I immediately knew that I was relegated to third place.  In that competitive field and considering my still rusty competitiveness, I was excited to be on the podium.

Appendix - During the run, I kept looking at my watch wondering why I was running so slow according to the mile markers, ~ 7:15/mile.  Ah-hah!  The course was actually 6.7 miles.  The "as advertised" olympic distance was measured as 6.23 and ended up being a half-mile longer.  I was robbed!  Had the race ended when it was supposed to, I would have gotten my 2nd place!  Kidding.  My mantra, is run the race as it comes.  That includes lightening, mismeasured distances, and blurs.

Race Report: Beaver Freezer Triathlon

All joking aside, the Beaver Freezer did not disappoint: high winds, low temps, the smell of rain, and the grit of wet roads.  Ladies and gentlemen, we have a recipe for FUN!

After two failed attempts to register over the past two years, I had the race web page open on my desktop before the 8:00 AM start of registration in February.  I was not going to miss my chance this year to freeze my beaver (you know I had to do it!).

Here are the vital statistics for this race and a few things you need to know.  First, the 500yd swim is in a pool.  Second, because of this, the fastest group of swimmers (including me) start in the last wave.  Third, the 13ish mile bike hits the open roads of NW Corvallis, arguably the windiest and hilliest section of our fair city.  Fourth, the run is a three-looper around the OSU Quad.  Fifth, this race pretty much starts off the triathlon season in the PacNW.  Sixth, it sells out in about an hour and a half.  Seventh, the triathlon team doubled the race participation by opening up two pools for the competition, all in order to field their first ever team for the Collegiate National Championships, which means they doubled the amount of volunteers and organization required... props.  Eighth, I'll think of something...

There I was, up at 6:18AM again.  Start time wasn't until 10:15AM, but I got my stuff ready to go, consumed the requisite coffee and oatmeal, and bundled myself out the door.  I wanted to watch some friends compete and offer support/volunteer wherever I could.  Once at the tri, I saw that the OSU triteam had everything running like clockwork.  So, instead I focused on getting my transition set-up, organizing how I would battle the weather (warm clothes and garbage bags), and giving some MC tips to Kyle, the guy who took over the announcer duties that I had last year (he was a natural!).  And wouldn't you know it, before long it was time to jump in the water of the pool I train in every week.  This actually gave me a slight advantage as the lanes lines don't exactly match up with the lines on the bottom (seven lanes, six evenly spaced lines) and it is pretty difficult to climb out of the pool.  Two things that I had plenty of practice at!

I started second in my lane, circle swimming behind a far superior swimmer.  Within seconds, I was out of her draft and had another competitor drafting my heels for 450 yds.  With 50 yds to go, she tapped my feet and I obligingly yielded the lead.  The mere seconds this cost me were nothing compared to the time I planned to waste in transition putting all my clothes on my wet body!

And waste them I did... out of the swim, I put on running shoes for the 500+ yd haul to the transition.  My feet were still a little tender and shredded from the half-ironman last week.  So, my swim time included the shoe shod. Once out the door, I ran while struggling into my Craft top.  And upon reaching the transition area, I calmly donned half-tights, a jacket, socks, cycling shoes, a hat, sunglasses, and finally my helmet.  My gloves were secured to my handle bar and I put these on as I pedaled out of transition.

The first wave of guys putting on warm clothes... see, I wasn't the only one.

Out on the road, I made quick work of the bike course.  It was gritty and windy, and I just tucked my head and rolled... up a gradual hill, through the first turn around, into my "aero" position (see pic), and around up Oak Creek Rd, a course I ride too much.  I was trying to look really serious and fast as I passed the Pacific Power/Blue Sky cheering section at the second turn-around (impossible ;-).  I barely had time to get in to my cycling groove before it was time to run... fast.

In my aerobars.  And looking very warm on the bike.

(Thanks Jimmy, for the pics)

In T2, I stripped off the jacket and hat, replaced it with my "Poser Triathlete" visor, and hauled out onto the run.  I felt fantastic as I circled the Quad, one-two-three times.  The crowds of competitors on the course thinned as I made my way around.  One of the volunteers at the bottom of the only hill called out "you're amazing" as I went by.  That got me up the hill in quick fashion... then as I came around again, she again called out "you're amazing".  Maybe she remembered me?  Then, as I approached her for the third time, I heard "you're amazing, you're amazing, you're amazing".  Yup, I guess we were all amazing   out there racing.  I finished super strong, exceedingly comfortably, and smiling big.  I high-fived all around at the finish.

Me, my bowl, and second place in the Male 50-54 category.

(He wanted to take a picture with me to celebrate second in his age group ;-)

Wrap-up:  I didn't make my goal, which was to beat JoeB.  But, he only had about 45" on me and he did get to race from the closer pool, meaning he had about 300 yds less of a run into T1 than I did.  I saw him later at the bar, and we decided it was a draw.  And I did win over-all female.  Later on, I MCed the awards ceremony.  The colorful commentary from the local talent (me) actually managed to say the word "nipple" over the loud speakers... it was totally harmless and in the context of the wording of the USAT rules that state "you must have your nipples covered"... but still, awesome.  Anywho, I wasn't sure how I was going to announce the overall female champion.  Well, in the end, I just stated "and the the overall female winner, with a time of 1:06:something is... Sunny Gilbert.  Me!"

Someday, it will be the last time I win a race... and I don't win all the time now, even the majority of the time.  However, I never get tired of saying it.  I won the Beaver Freezer!  Excellent.  Congrats to everyone braving the elements.  Sometime soon I am going to have to do a race in mild mannered weather.  But, what will be the fun of that?

Did I win?  I'm feeling like a winner anyway.

Race Report: Showdown at Sundown

Wow!  Get ready for a wild one.

I love racing in Vegas, it always presents the most amazing challenges.  And I've had some of my most memorable adventures in and around the area.  The Showdown at Sundown did not disappoint.

Major props to Sunset Racing for putting on their first half-ironman in the area.  This was a no frills, just race event where the focus was "let's do a half-ironman".  It was billed as a practice race for people training for ironman.  But it was also a race designed for people that want more than 70.6 of racing.  They want scenery and hills and technical challenge.  In short, they want a race!  And they don't want to get up at 4:00AM in the morning to do it.

Que?  Yup, that's right.  The race started at 1:00 PM.  Which means, I rolled out of bed at my usual time of 6:18 AM to a beautiful sunrise across the dappled lake and red-painted hills of the high desert.  I consumed coffee and oatmeal and eggs for breakfast and got about getting my race bag ready to go.  I went for a short, short run with Gordie before we were turned back by the wind, deciding that we were going to get enough of that in the afternoon.  I did about twenty minutes of yoga on the balcony over-looking the lake, busied myself with a few sundry details, and then chilled on the couch with Steig Larsson's latest novel.  Around 11:00 AM, I had breakfast again: oatmeal and peanut butter and honey sandwich with a banana on the side, and a bit more coffee.

Good morning!

Gordie and I meandered over to the race start around 11:45.  It took a bit of rearranging on the bike racks to squeeze my transition in, but I tried to be respectful of other people's space.  Turns out I was surrounded on the rack by virtual newbies and we ended up having a mini-demonstration of transition set-up right there.  My race compadres were pretty receptive as I explained about the best way to set up a transition so that it would stay relatively unmolested as people ran in and out during the race, no small feat.

Gordie and I hamming it up before the race...

I skipped my running warm-up, preferring to contort and wiggle into my wetsuit for a couple hundred yards pre-swim swim in the lake.  Easier said than done... the swimming part that is (the contort and wiggle is always a difficult dance move).  Why?  The water was 63 °F!  I jumped in anyway and spent the next five minutes trying to acclimate my freezing face in the water so that I could actually breath while swimming.    After that I spent five minutes waving down the rescue boat with a few other swimmers... we were trying to draw attention to the 2ft. dead fish floating about 20 ft in front of the start line.  Eee-oohhw!

I climbed out for the last pre-race briefing, humming the star-spangled banner, and waited for the first wave of 35 and younger men to take off.  Then I jumped on in and had to re-acclimate my face.  So much for that.

We spread out in a long line of wetsuit clad, neon-pink be-capped triathletes as the horn blew.  I positioned myself smack in the middle, and immediately observed that I was the strongest swimmer in the group.  Within a couple hundred yards, there were no more pink caps in my field of vision.  And as I passed the first of three buoys on the way out, breast-stroking green caps came into view.  I was in a rhythm immediately... left-right-breath-left-right-left-sight-breath.  I held my line beautifully, even as the water got choppier from the wind and passing boats.  Only one time, on the way back into the dock, did I lose sight of the buoys in the sun and have to take a few breaststrokes to find my bearings.  At the dock, I swam to one of four ladders (the one I thoroughly tested for its steadiness) and found my friend Kirk ready to haul me the last few rungs.  Cheers!  I ran forward to my flip-flops, an absolute necessity for the pea-gravel run into transition. Then I made my awkward wet-suit-stripping, prancing-in-flip-flops-gallop toward my gear.

Mounting up...

Immediately out of transition, the course proceeded up a rather steep hill that required me to do some climbing out of the saddle.  The roll in to it was so short that I did not have any time to get my shoes on, so that had to wait until more than a half mile into the course.  I did remember, however, to put the bike in a somewhat smaller gear for the start so I was doing any knee-busting grinding right off the bat (word on the street is that there were a couple of oops-c-daisies from other competitors who had forgotten... doh!  I hate that!).

So, here's how the bike went... What goes up, surely, at some point, must come down.  Right?  But only after gusting head and side winds and after passing through a beautifully harsh landscape that resembled Mars with shrubs... that's right, the bike course.  Good news is... I've still got it.  The hill-climbing ability, that is.  I actually caught and passed a number of my competitors on the glorious hills.  But, I still couldn't shake the feeling that I was going much slower than I planned.  I hit the turn around point near mile 30 and looked down at the computer only to discover that I had averaged a whopping 17.5 mph up to that point.  Huh?!  I normally put down around 21 mph for the bike course, so this was unchartered territory.  But, my place among my competitors confirmed that this was probably not a bad result.  So, I pushed it out of mind, stopped to fill my water bottle from the cooler, and took off... uphill.

But not for long... because within a mile, I realized that the wind was mostly at my back (with a few cross-gusts), and I was now bombing back down all that uphill!  I hit 45 mph on three separate hills, and I am pretty sure that there was almost a 10-mile section of uninterrupted road where I never dropped below 25 mph.  All the same, I still had to climb out of the park.  And, and so with six miles to go, I was ready for the run to get there.  I managed to maneuver my way out of the park and into the busy resort area without too much incident and switched gears and gear for the last stretch.

My legs were under me almost immediately.  I virtually pranced through the cobbled pseudo-village of shops out onto the "neighborhood" road that made up the run course.  I passed two guys almost immediately, one who commented that I was "making it look entirely too easy".  Secret smile.

Check out me sweet Splish "duds":

How far am I about to run?  And why do I look so happy about it... oh yeah.

I LOVE running.

The run course was an out-back-out-back with one giant hill in the middle that we went over four times. There was no flat.  It literally was up for a mile and a half, down for a mile and a half, up for a mile and a half, down for a mile and a half.... you get the idea.  I walked most of the aid stations and egged on Gordie every time I saw him.  I even got "super-starred" by the second place woman who was no slouch herself.  I took in a gulp of Heed (that's what they had) and a gulp of water at each aid station (spaced out at the ends and midway through each out-and-back).  Every three miles or so, I sucked down one Cola Clif Blok that I had in my hand.  Basically, that's how the run went.  It was steady, not too stressful, and I had a lot left at the end to really hammer that last downhill and the approach to the finish.  But before I got there, I ran past a wedding that was just starting on the veranda of the resort about a mile from the finish.  I got a couple of "you-go-girl"s from the attendees.  And then, I ran by the bride herself, who had the (mis)fortune of having to walk along the river path that was our race course to get to her wedding.  I told her congrats on the way by and she yelled "you, too!"  That's a first.

"Splishdown at Sundown"

Well, I didn't finish at sundown, but the sun was definitely approaching the horizon.  I managed a very respectable 4:50 on that crazy course, and finished 10th overall and 1st overall female.  This was the first half-ironman since my poor showing at Wildflower last year, and only my second half-marathon in as much time.  So, cheers to me... I'm a happy camper!  Ready for the next one... whenever that will be (I'll let you know for sure).  Thanks for watching!

Going to fast

A couple of days ago, I was running down the street on my way to meet some friends.  Why was I running?  "Because if I'm going somewhere, I was running".  The real reason — it was a gorgeous day, I hadn't worked out yet, and I just like to run.  So, imagine this.  I'm running down the sidewalk of a street notorious for two things, students and patrolling police cars.  On this particular day, the students were conspicuously absent.  Gone on spring break.  But, the police car was there.  And as I was sprinting down the sidewalk, I spotted it coming up the block and I involuntarily (sub-conciously) slowed down mid-stride... as if I was speeding!

My bod is giving me all kinds of clues that it is a rest/mini-taper week.  First, every time I stand up, my eyesight blacks out.  Second, my appetite is voracious!  Third, every workout I do,  I want to go too fast, but instead end-up feeling that the workout was too short and too slow.  Feeling this way makes me a little cranky, so wen I hit the track on Tuesday for a short speed session, I decided to see what this old bod could do.  I had a ladder in mind and a couple of speeding guys from the triathlon team to push me.  I got a decent warmup, peppered it with some drills and long strides, then stepped up to the line.  I intended to run a 6:00 mile.  When I went through the first 400 in 1:23 feeling giddy, it turned into a 5:44 mile.  Then, I hit the 1200 with a slightly faster, but still controlled pace.   On the 800, I started out smooth, then came blasting home.  I took four steps into the 400 and crumpled to the ground.

When I say crumpled, that is exactly what I did.  It wasn't from excruciating pain, though.  It was from self-preservation.  I felt a tiny twinge in my quad, and rather than gut it out and possible cause injury.  I ended the workout right there.  No harm done.  But using my super-duper 20-20 hindsight (available at your local pharmacy), I guessed that my warm-up had been insufficient, my stretching non-existant, and my mindset out of whack with my real goal.

It happens.  Hopefully, my going too fast this week will translate into "pleasantly fast" this weekend at the Showdown at Sundown in Vegas.  The race course looks like it has a suitable number of hills (my favorite) and starts in the afternoon (even better).  And, I've been itching to race a triathlon all season.  Plus, it's always nice to see my sister in Sin City.  I don't know if I am going to be allowed to write a post about the race... because what happens in Vegas...  So, I'm going to make a ruling on that right now.  The race is actually in Henderson, NV, and as far as I know, the residents of Henderson are very specific about saying they live in Henderson and not Las Vegas (so says my little sister). Wish me luck!  And look for the race report on Sunday.

Who's your coach? That's a conflict of interest.

It's so confusing.  Do I swim, or bike, or run?  If I bike, do I ride my road bike, my cross bike, or my tri bike?

Aside:  This might seem like a no-brainer... but the tri bike is uber-nice, and the weather is often uber-disgusting.  Plus, it is sooo much easier to ride in groups on a road bike.  And cross is a great workout and just fun.  Aside, out.


If I go running, what kind of workout should I do?  Speed, distance, EZ, fartlek, intervals, hills, coffee-run?  At least in the pool, there are relatively fewer options, and, thankfully, no route decisions to make (usually).

When I decide on the workout, what do I wear?  What do I eat?  What time of day should I do it?  Can I fit it in between meetings?  Or, do I get up 5:18AM to make the 6AM start?

If you couldn't tell, I'm going a little crazy.  But, one thing is for certain:  I love the fact that I have so many fitness options!  And this week, Build 2.2, I have a lot of opportunities to fret, and train, and exalt. There's a lot of running this week to get ready for the half-ironman looming in 37 days (who's counting?).

So, who's making all of these training decisions for me?  Well, quite simply, I am.  I wish I had a coach, but my first triathlon coach, Ryan Ignatz, spoiled me.  He personalized my workouts perfectly, balancing difficult weeks at work with easy weeks of training and, sometimes, even giving me things to think about during the training.  He orchestrated my move to the pro ranks.  And, he showed me how to seamlessly weave life, work, and the pursuit of triathlon.  He taught me so well, that I was confident enough in my knowledge of the intricacies of training and peaking and race prep that I tried my hand at coaching others.  And, now I coach the hardest person to coach in the world, oneself.  This will be my fourth season of self-coaching, and I think I have planned and executed my best plan yet.

Tonight was a perfect example, 9 miles total ~1:30 of running on the schedule.  A two-mile run to the track was my warm-up.  I sent out an email to the entire triathlon community of Corvallis to see if anyone wanted to join me for the workout, but I laid the pace down in no uncertain terms.  At the track, I actually found a taker, a fellow OSU triathlon club member.  Together, we precision-executed my drill sets and added six total strides in order to get the legs and ticker really warmed up.  I talked with him about the pace, and he shrugged and said "you usually run circles around me"?  Hmmmm... so much for laying down the pace.

Sunny the coach:  Then it was time for the 6x1000 at my 10K race pace.  We started out, and he ran far ahead of me for a lap before fading and finishing 100 yds behind at the 1000m-line.   During the walk-jog, I suggested he tuck in behind me for the first 600m or so, and then focus on each subsequent 200m.  #2 went much the same, only he seemed to fade further.  Before starting the third interval, we chatted about his 10K PR and his 10K goal.  Based on that, I suggested a more reasonable and even pace.  The advice I gave, check your watch at each 200m and adjust the pace.  That's why we do these workouts on the track!  And don't try to make up time, or slow-down to lose time, just get on time.  By #4, I think he had it figured out.  And after the work out, we talked about how to adjust your 10K pace and goal pace as your fitness increases and workouts get easier.  It was a cool coaching moment for me.  I had almost forgotten how much fun it is to teach people about this confusing sport we do.

But, I didn't forget that I was there to coach myself.  And this workout was designed by me (with some Ryan memories) to see if I could push the pace a bit.  And if that's my 10K race pace and I feel that good doing it, then there is going to be a new PR this year!  Good job coach!

And the conflict of interest?  Well, sometimes when I don't feel like doing a workout or want to alter it or (gasp) something hurts; I have to decide who to listen to, the athlete or the coach?

Portland Freshwater Triathlon: Ripping off the band-aid.

What better way to get back into triathlon than to do a triathlon? At least that is what I hoped. My first road triathlon since limping across the finish line at the Duck Bill Thrill. My second longest run since aforementioned limping (longest on pavement). The foot felt solid and I was comfortable enough in my swim/bike fitness to feel like I wouldn’t make a fool of myself. Cool.

Just to make sure, I rolled out my Splish business suit for the occasion. And I meant business! This time last year I hit the line of the Portland Tri during my most successful triathlon season as a professional, and arguably in my best 10K run shape ever. And I got second. By six seconds. So this year, my race plan went something like this: Win.

Not a good goal, or a super realistic one, but at least one guaranteed to motivate me beyond my current fitness level and ensure that I had a little fun along the way. Kids, don’t try this at home. You can NEVER control who is going to show up on race day (Portland Tri 2008 is a good example). And you should never hang your race goals on the performance of anyone else… that said. I wanted to win, still.

The 7am (gasp) start necessitated a sleep over at friend Matt’s house in Portland. I dragged fellow former OSU triathlete Brendan Tracy along with me from Corvallis (carpooling to the race was in keeping with the sustainable "green" theme). After a completely uneventful packet pick-up, we headed to Noodles & Company (my favorite) for some Pesto Cavatappi and giant rice krispie treat. It was still so early, and rather than go back and meditate at Matt’s apartment, Brendan and I went to see the new Tarantino Movie, Inglourious Basterds. Nothing like a little blood and gore and word-class dialogue (not to mention “killing Nat-zies”) to get us pumped up.

5:18 am found us both eating granola cereal and frozen blueberries that we scored at the local Portland Co-op, Food Front. I was afraid I would have to race caffeine-free, but an over-worked barista opened up the Starbuck’s kiosk in the Marriot for the race (thank you, woman-in-green-apron!)

Aside: And Happy 20th birthday to Starbucks... Pacific NW customers get free coffee tomorrow morning! That's Aug. 27....

And we're back: I set up my transition like I had been doing it all summer… and courtesy of the intrepid young-man next to me, a large baby-powder mark in the grass indicated where I was at when running down the lane (incidentally, when he made said mark, a gust of wind powdered my entire transition, towel, shoes, race skirt, and bike… I smelled nice the whole race!)

The Swim
We were starting off a dock in the downtown Willamette River… and also exiting out of the water without a ladder onto the same dock. At the pre-race meeting, the organizer had tried to describe the acrobatic exit to the swim that would involve planting a foot on a submerged 4x4 piece of wood, grasping rope webbing like you see on pirate’s ships, and hauling yourself over the railing. I was slightly suspicious that this heeve-ho wasn’t going to be as easy as she described. So, as soon as we were cleared to go out on the dock after the first wave of men went off, I jogged down the gang-plank, jumped in the water and promptly swam back to practice my pull-ups. It wasn’t bad, but it also wouldn’t be pretty if more than two-three people tried to get out at the same time.

The start was excellent… I pushed off the dock at the 3-2-1-GO! Lucky me, as I started the far-away buoy I realized it was positioned directly in front of a bridge pylon. Extra cool, since the buoy was white and so were the 150+ caps of the guys I was trying to catch. I latched on to the feet of two red capped women before I noticed they were veering off the chosen path, no probem. We were coming into swim furniture at that point (sorry slower guy-swimmers... you rock anyway) and I decided to "stay the course". Sure enough as I rounded the turn, I was in front of both red caps (not for long). The way back to the dock was a bit more difficult, with swirling eddies around the bridge pylons that we crossed under and a slight current... but I still managed to hit the dock in second... my exit wasn't pretty, but it was speedy. I figured that I had a pretty fast swim. Confirmed by the baby-powder guy who transitioned right along side me... his comment "wow, that was fast". :-)

The Bike

This course rocks! It has 500 ft. of climbing on each of three loops, technical descents, and a flat and fast (especially in aero) approach to the transition that was lined with spectators. And it goes right through the middle of downtown Portland! I love city triathlons (I've raced in Chicago and New York City, never in downtown Denver, what's up with that?)... you have a real opportunity to show off the sport! What can I say?... it was fun. And thanks to Gordie at Northwest Multisports, I was rockin' a pair of Zipp 808s... the sickest tires that my Orbea has ever had on it. Next to these things, my race wheels might as well have been made of wood. I don't think she (my bike is a she) will ever be the same unless I get her at least a pair of new 404s. Gosh, so demanding!

Anywho, I zipped (oh, so punny) around the course, leaning into the turns and trying not to pass too close to the racers that were obviously doing there first triathlon (the sprint race had a beginners only wave). I think I was a pretty considerate passer, except on one section that was on an open road. I apologize to this woman profusely. I thought you heard me say "on your left". I am so sorry if I freaked you out.... but must avoid cars!

The Run

At this point, I know I am in the lead (race plan is working!), but I have no knowledge about how far... and my most uncertain leg (I'm very punny tonight) was upon me. No where to go but on-ward. I pulled on my race belt and "poser triathlete" hat, slid my feet into my Brooks and eased into the run. First time for everything... the easing part. I decided to start off at a pace I know I could handle and build from there. The run was two loops with two bridge crossing per loop and long straight-aways along the riverside bikeway. There were two spots per loop were I could easily gauge if anyone was bearing down on me with me being to obvious. I took full advantage, but really I was just out there running my own race! I started with ~6:50/mile and gradually sped up until I was pulling in 6:25s with a very respectabe finishing sprint. Along the course I got a ton of comments on the suit, including "nice suit" "great tie" and "you look ready for the office". And thanks to the fact that I had my name on the front, people knew I was coming and could cheer as I passed.... I think I like that. Probably going to keep putting my name on the front in the future.

Afterward

The theme of this race was sustainable... participants could off-set the gas they used getting to the race with an optional purchase of clean energy. Everything was recyclable, compostable, post-consumer materials. My trophy for winning was a steel hull of a ship (cool?). The race shirts were made from bamboo. Even the finish line was "living". Finishers received those cool aluminum water bottles. And I know this doesn't count as "green", but the post-race BBQ was excellent. And for all the doubters... The Freshwater Trust is trying to develop the Willamette River as a recreational body of water. I'm sold! Woudn't it be cool to have regular swim competitions in the river as long as the bacteria levels are safe?

If you are in the area, come out and try it next year. The race seems as though it tripled in size from last year, to 580 people. That's classy. Here's you parting shot: 1-2 finish for Splish ladies as Courtney Brown hailed from Seattle and took a strong second place!

If you want to pics of the "business suit" in action click here until October 15, 2009.

Race ready

Ok, maybe not ready. But I am racing! Xterra Portland at Hagg Lake on Saturday. I picked an off-road triathlon because it offers soft surfaces and the potential that my slowness on the run will be less noticeable in the technical terrain post-mountain bike riding.

The deciding factor: I went on a 48 minute run last Sunday and my foot/PF felt good. No early run stiffness or painful stretching of the plantar. No ankle rolling. No shooting pains on sharp turns. Even managed to run downhill without curling my toes under or putting on the breaks. Also absent were the post-run arch cramps (though this could be do to my pre-run ibruprofen).

I kept it easy by playing Sarah McLachlin on the iPod and focussing on keeping my breathing easy. I picked a trail in the Peavy Arboretum that would allow me to bail at any point in my planned 50-minute run... thanks to the several cross trails and loops that form the Calloway Creek Trail system on the NE corner of the research forest. The only thing... I got tired. Fast (or slow?). It's going to take a bit to get my endurance up again.

But, I am racing! And better yet, I am planning on racing for real in the fall. I have my eye on one of two Half marathons in the late season. Amica Insurance Seattle Half Marathon or a Half Marathon in Eugene that Gerhard mentioned. The Seattle one is great because it would allow me 6 weeks of base building (which I desperately need) and 4 weeks to work on speed before a week or two tapor. What do you think? Of course, there is always cyclocross... there was no question there.

Regardless, find me at the Xterra Portland Triathlon this Saturday morning, the Oregon State Crit Champs this Saturday afternoon (I realize these are the same day), and the Portland Freshwater Triathlon on Sunday the

Follow up: Duck Bill Thrill

I told you about limping to the finish line at the Duck Bill Thrill, not following one of my personal rules (stop when it REALLY hurts), bending to my pride, etc. Since that race, I have run very little. I have iced my plantar fascia (PF) at least three-five times a day. I stretch whenever I think of it (and that is a lot because it hurts all the time). I've stood on my slant board for hours. I've done self-massage, massage therapy, sports training, aqua-jogging, PT, and the podiatrist (gasp!). Long and short: It's getting better, thanks to a cortisone shot (my first one ever, ouch!), massage from Meghan, and a new PT torture device called ASTYM.  But, I've dedicated about two hours a day to the act of healing. So the act of blogging wasn't happening (obviously). Be thankful. All I would have talked about was my PF, every gory detail.

But now..... it is getting better! And my spirits are partially restored. I might even get to run at running camp in two weeks (why would you want to run at running camp —ahem?). Running camp, you say?!

Aside: Let me explain. Having run seven (and the most recent) of my 15 years of running in Brooks Adrenaline GTS (all the way back to #5), I applied for and was accepted into their Inspire Daily Program, a collection of athletes that span the running spectrum. A group of people dedicated to spreading the word about the awesomeness of running every day (hope I live up to). Anywho, as a member of the ID program, I entered a lottery to go to the inaugural Brooks Inspire Daily (ID) running camp at Crystal Mountain near the base of Mt. Ranier at the beginning of March (pre-PF). I didn’t get in at the time. But, sometime in between successfully running a half-marathon at Wildflower with minimal pain and the reinjuring at Duck Bill Thrill, there was a second round of lottery-ing in which I got accepted. I think I ran(!) to the mailbox within half an hour with my check — how excited I was.

Well, I’ve been stressing every since the race three weeks ago... but at least now I know I will be able to run a little and hike a lot if needs be (fine by me, as long as I am moving).

With all that sitting and icing time, I had a few minutes to put together a movie of video clips from the Duck Bill Thrill (Check out my crazy limp at the end) that were taken with my new iFlip (and then cut and pasted in iMovie).

Enjoy!

Tri-tips, and no not the steak cut.

The Duck Bill Thrill was a great little race that I did last Sunday.  Not to many frills.  But it had a good course, a friendly announcer, a nice food spread for the finishers and volunteers, and comfy atmosphere for newbies and seasoned pros alike.  But there were a few race faux-pas, oops-e-daisy, come-on-people things that I observed that aren't written anywhere in race rules that make the whole experience a little better.

1)  Have you ever gotten to a race, looked into your bag, and exclaimed, "Oh #$%*, I forgot my ____. "  Among the deal breakers: helmet, cycling shoes, running shoes, wetsuit... (Note: if you consider "my MP3 player" a deal breaker or the reason you didn't race well, it is time to get a life).  One of the people I rode down to the Thrill with made the unfortunate discovery that they had forgotten their cycling shoes at home.  Here's a tip: when you are packing the night before (and it should always be at least the night before any "travel" to the race, be it airplane or car or bicycle if it's a close one) go ahead and set up your transition in your living room.  Once you have completed you task: (1) pant-o-mime running in to transition from the swim, (2) pretend to strip off your wetsuit, goggles, and cap  (or if you are slightly more hardcore and have some time to kill: actually put on your wetsuit, cap and goggles in your living room, take a picture and send it to me), (3)  put on your biking stuff, (4) turn-around in a circle, (5) take a swig from your water bottle (6) remove your biking stuff, (7) put on your shoes, race belt, hat, etc.... (8) go eat some ice cream (9) and put your stuff immediately in your bag.  Not in a pile.  Not everything in the bag but your cycling shoes and helmet.  Everything in the bag (or bags).  Leave something out and it will get left on the floor for the dog to play with.

2) Before you leave transition to go down to the swim start... stand at the "swim in". Look to your transition area, and then run to it. Look down at it and see how it is arranged. Make sure that your bike isn't in the hardest gear. Make sure your helmet strap is unbuckled. I can't count how many times I have heard people say "I lost so much time in transition because I couldn't find/ didn't know/ forgot to". Visualization. Go through the motions. It works.

3)  On the race course, smile (or flash the peace sign) every time you see a camera... even if you are experiencing pain that would drive an ordinary mortal to screaming and abject despair (because let's face it.. triathletes aren't ordinary mortals).  We need to make this sport look good so more people will want to do it.  Plus, it's just more fun.

4)  Know the rules.  Know the course.  They put these nifty little things called "maps" up on almost every race website I have ever seen.  There were people at the Thrill — you know who you are — who didn't know that the swim was two loops.  Please, people, look at the maps.  Read the course description.

5)  Say "thank you" to the volunteers, course marshals, spectators, squirrels, even drivers of cars that cross all the way into the other lane or wait patiently at a left turn.  If you think they can't hear, you smile (see #3) or wave.  It's this crazy sign of universal appreciation.

Last, but not least) If it hurts... and I mean "really, really hurts", stop.  I committed this one.  I could have been smart and just done the swim/bike.  But, I had to run.  I had to win (barely) and I also now have to limp with a crutch because I reinjured my foot and possibly ended my running for another month.  

Race Report: Luna Chix Triathlon

A sprint triathlon! Uh-huh, that's right.  My first shorty in about four years.  I never realized that I had become such a distance freak.  But when the opportunity to race an all-women's sprint triathlon close to home, I couldn't resist.

The race was held at Blue Lake, scene of the Blue Lake Triathlon (I wonder where they got the name...) But, obviously, was only half the course, since that one was an Olympic distance.  And of course, every competitor was a woman.

I got to the race slightly behind schedule (having misjudged the drive from Corvallis to Portland again), and had to hurry to get everything set-up before my wave start.  But, 35 minutes, as it turns out, was plenty of time to get my registration packet, rack my bike with the duathletes (my rack was full and I didn't feel like asking anybody to move... had a bad experience with that one time as you may recall), goo and loo (a.k.a. apply gooey lube to my saddle, shoes, and body, and go to the bathroom), and even get a warm-up in the water before they called up my wave. I was in wave number 4 with all the 20-29 yr. olds.

Being in wave #4 means that three waves are ahead of you.  If you fixated on the obviousness of this statement and failed to take in the subtleties that it implies, I will explain.  That means that approximately 200 women were churning the water on the course before I came along.  So, within two minutes, I was careening through pink caps, narrowly missed a kick in the head, but generally avoided swimming over any newbie swimmers (I didn't want anybody to come out of the water and say "I'm never doing this again.  I was nearly drowned in the swim.").  I also looked a round a few times and was astonished to see swimmers spread out over a 100 yds in either direction, clearly not swimming in anything resembling a straight line (I could so help with this).  At one point I had to put my head up and do some breaststroke to redirect around a clump of pink and green caps swimming and chatting away.  As I reassumed my freestyle I heard "go blue cap".  That's my name, don't wear it out.

The run out of the water and transition to biking went like I have done this a hundred times...probably have between racing and practice.  Yup, I practice transitions quite a bit.

The bike was flat and fast with a small lump (I shall not call it a hill as I did not get out of my big chain ring).  I really enjoyed rolling out on the out and back course.  Really gave me a chance to test my top-end speed.  On the way back in, I got to watch the whole triathlon unfold behind me and I tried to give everybody I passed a good smile.

Transition again, just concentrating on getting everything moving.  There is always one thing in every triathlon that I could have done better, and a sprint tri is no exception.  I kept dropping my hat as I ran out of transition.  I dropped it three times!  I kept thinking that I look like a squirrel dragging a nut back to its tree.  Oh well, I had it in place by the time I ran past Erika and Bill and was able to give Erika a big High-five-o on the way out of the park.

5K... probably a little long, but not by much.  I didn't even bother looking at my splits or my watch.  I passed the last woman in front of me just past the turnaround and it was a nice cruise to the finish.  I even got in a decent cartwheel across the line, flipping the butterfly on my Splish suit head over tail.

And then my favorite part, my cool down back along the run course where I cheered and encouraged the other racers.  My favorite cheer today "smile like someone is taking your picture!"  It got some flashes of pearly white.

Wildflower Race Pictures

Here is the only pic I have been able to get so far. There might be more floating around on a camera from one of the OSU triclub members. I'll know Friday as we are having a Wildflower BBQ now that the sun has come out in Oregon. :-)

Wildflower Triathlon Recap

The Sign-up
There are so many places to begin my account of this race. But maybe it is important to explain the motivation first. Back in 2003, I cheered alongside Sarah Wall (now Chimi) as she flashed every member of the Fleet Feet Triathlon Team as they crested the last uphill on the run course at mile 12. And I wanted to be out there competing too, and not just because I would get to see Sarah’s chest, though, that in itself would be worth it. The Wildflower long course (essentially a half-iron distance) is the stuff of legends.
So I found myself four weeks ago, talked into racing the long course event for the first time. I signed up as an amateur because I did not think that I had qualified for a renewal of my elite license. I had maintained a pretty convincing level of fitness and all that was needed in my training were a few minor adjustments to include some climbing in my aero bars and speed/hill workouts on the run. Then last Sunday, I went for a 70 mile bike ride with a group of local triathletes who are all beginning to ramp up their training for Ironman Canada. After the ride, I got to thinking....I should really be racing as an elite. I went to the USA Triathlon website and spent an hour reading the fine print on elite qualification. I don’t how I missed it the first time, but there in plain site was my ticket, a one year extension of my elite license if I had a qualifying race in my first year (out of two). I was in!

Arriving in Lake San Antonio, California
After a 13-hour drive that my travel buddy, Ed, and I split into two with a lovely night stay in Redding, CA, we pulled into the campgrounds with just enough time to set up camp and book it down to the pre-race meeting. Two members of the race staff, Dixie and Becky, were fabulous about setting me up with my credentials, race entry, numbers, bib, and chip. They made it so easy! I had a little bit of dinner with the OSU Tri Club, set up my bike and transition bag, and played a rousing game of Uno with Draw 2 Rulz (imagine combining the drinking game Kings and Uno and the penalty instead of drinking is to draw two). Before long though, I was headed to bed and in less than 10-hours, a half-ironman.

Race Day...
Started out cold. Temps in the 50s. I got up to make French Press coffee (caffeine! I had given up caffeine for two weeks leading up to the race) and steel cut oatmeal. I was enjoying my coffee and oatmeal watching the sunrise so much that I lost track of time and arrived late at the transition... which is not actually unusual, as most can attest to.
But, setting up transition was easy. Shoes on the pedals, chain in a low gear, helmet and sunglasses on the handle bars, tongues sticking out of my running shoes, and Cran Razz and Cola Clif Shots at the ready on my top tube (three thie time instead of two like always). I had time to jog out the first mile of the course, an up-and-down paved section that would do well as a roller coaster in an amusement park. It took me a bit to squeeze back into transition which made me a little hurried applying sunscreen (should have a been a little better about this as you can see where I couldn't reach in the middle of my back). Getting into my blueseventy Helix wetsuit was rather quick. And even though, I had been wearing a stocking cap and gloves during my warm-up, the day was rapidly heating up.

The Start
I love it when they start races with the Star-spangled Banner. I sang affectionately off-key, trying to mimic the vocal oscillations of the woman singing. Then, after the Elite men went off, it was my turn. I started off to the right side because ever since a bike accident damaged my left shoulder, I always end up swimming left off the course and though it would be cool to use the swimmers to my left to keep me in check. But unfortunately, it didn't matter, because before the first buoy I was dropped by the lead pack and swimming in no mans' land (or lake). I kept a good tempo, but didn't really feel warmed-up during the whole swim. I realized about two-thirds of the way through that there was someone drafting off me (mostly because I kept getting my toes tickled). I tried to trade the lead with her to get a little rest, but for whatever reason, she didn't pick up on that. So, it was with about 200 yds to go that she swung around me and sprinted for the boat ramp. Okay, I figured I'ld catch her on the bike.

Onto the Bike
I transitioned like a rockstar! After eight months off I figured I was a little rusty, but everything came back to me as I went through the motions of de-wetsuiting and helmeting. At Wildflower, you actually exit transition and ride over the blue carpet and through the finish shoot. After that, the course proceeds over the same roller-coaster mile that I warmed up on and then heads up a mile-long steep incline called Beach Hill, before proceeding onto the bike course that has an elevation profile resembling a heartbeat on an ECG. But, I made it up, and to my surprise caught two women on the climb. The problem was that I rode the next 10 miles trying to get warmed-up and comfortable on the bike... it just didn't really feel right. And then, it clicked. I shifted back a little on my saddle which I think allowed my to stretch out my legs more in the pedal stroke and generate more power and efficiency and I started to fly. Even with a head wind on the fastest part of the course (a ten-mile stretch with a net downhill and lined by beautiful vineyards), I was moving. Before long I could tell in the distance that I had two more women in site. Then just before Nasty Grade (a heinously long uphill at mile 40 that is also covered by some of the worst pavement I've seen on a bike course), 21-yr old Kat Baker from Australia passed me and I vowed to hang with her as both she and I passed the two women I had spotted earlier.
Nasty Hill is followed by a series of uphills and downhills, one of which has pavement that is so gloriously smooth. And with the wind at my back I held my position in the aero bars as my speed climbed to 46 mph! Around mile 51, I was climbing a short steep incline back into the park when a spectator started sprinting alongside me. He said "you are doing great. There are two woman just ahead of you and both look as if they are hurting. And, you are looking awesome." And you know how good that makes you feel after the end of the bike leg :-)

On the Run
I hit transition in 9th place, just behind Kat Baker and Angie Naeth (ironically, a fellow MU tiger track athlete whom I had run, biked, and cross-trained with when we were both injured in college). My legs carried me past both of them within the first two miles (on the roller coaster, again). Then the course winds along a dirt trail that is marked by knee-crunching downhills, ankle-twisting turns, and uphills that forced me to walk a couple of times. It was in the midst of this that I caught and convincingly passed Alexis Smith, something I hated to do because she is one of the nicest women on the pro circuit. Eventually, I came to miles 6-8, possibly my favorite part of the whole course, as it winds through the camping areas and people line the course to cheer. It was at this point that I really started to put some distance on the field behind me. I also passed the OSU team at this point...my new tri training partners. I think they were more than a little surprised to see me so far up, as they later told me, many times, with words like "we had no idea" and "wow". I guess I just don't brag enough :-)
After the campgrounds, i hit a mile long downhill that I didn't really enjoy because I was watching all the pros ahead of me ascend back up this same hill. And sure enough, about 50 yds past the very bottom, was the turn-around, and I had to head back up this mile+ long uphill. Even though at this point I was ready to be done, Chuckie V saw me (he is coaching Angie) and told me I had 6th in the bag and that I was making it look too easy. I also tried to imagine Sarah was at the top of the climb ready to flash me her boobies and that made me smile through the tired. After that climb, the last mile is a screaming downhill, done alongside later competitors whizzing down the road yelling out "You go girl!" What a way to finish! I hit the blue carpet, for the second time that day, in a full sprint. When I saw my time as I crossed the line I gave a fist-pump that would put Tiger Woods to shame.

Afterwards
Lots of smiles. Chatting with old friends including Kirk Nelson, Number Two (Nick Salazar), Tool (Andrew Maxwell), Kelly Couch (who finished 4th!), Angie Naeth (figuring out she had been the one grabbing my toes in the swim). Oh, and getting drug tested by the USADA...that was fun. And major props to the organizers of the VIP tent for the chocolate fondue fountain. Props also to Kelly's husband who bought me some Fat Tire and Team Clif Bar for bringing their Margarita-cycle (essentially a spin bike with the drive train hooked up to a blender attachment....ingenious). Major props to Splish for my beautiful monarch butterfly suit that everyone loved on the course. Oh, and I won enough money to buy a wicked cool cyclocross bike!!! It was my highest finish ever in an elite race and now I am seriously going to have to consider competing in a 70.3 race (maybe Vineman) to qualify for Clearwater again (and not sprain an ankle this time).

As soon as I can get my hands on some pics, I'll put them up. I promise.

Albany Sprint Tri

I only have one word to describe this experience. Snow. What's that Murphy says in his law? If it can happen it will. Oh yeah. It snowed on Sunday in Central Oregon.

I woke up the morning of the sprint tri not really knowing what to expect. But when I looked out my window the sky looked promising. The sun was shining in from the East and the roads looked as if they would dry in no time. Even the temp wasn't awful for 6:45 am in the Pacific NW...35. So, I went to my computer to see if they had changed the forecast for that day. Nope, the Weather Channel still insisted that there was a 100% chance of light snow. And sure enough, while I was sitting there, tiny little flakes started to form out the window, becoming bigger and bigger by the second. By the time I put my bike on my car for the 10 mile drive to Albany, I was wiping the snow off my roof rack to get to the lock.

At the race, nervous triathletes were milling around the transition, bundled up to the gills, hemming and hawing about their foiled transitions, whether they should suggest to the race directors that the bike be canceled, etc. My feeling....everybody has to race in the same conditions. And my other favorite, "It's all good". I calmly set my running shoes in a plastic bag by my bike and added an extra pair of socks. I pulled out tights, long-sleeved top, jersey, neoprene toe covers, bike shoes, winter gloves, water-proof jacket, hat, bike helmet, and bike shoes and set these up in the bleachers of the swim pool ....indoors. My plan was to set a personal record for the slowest transition (a feat, considering it stands at 6:31 for T2).

The 750 yd swim was uneventful except for the fact that I accurately predicted my time and my two lane mates vastly overestimated so that I lapped both of them twice and almost caught one for a third go-around. When it came time for transition, I was able to go through various body contortions to get my spandex on a wet body. I ran out to the bike in my cleats and did some semblance of a flying mount. I rode the first 4 or so miles of the 17 mile back through slushy roads. At some point, I no longer felt my feet, hands, or face. The only people I saw on the bike course were the frozen and lonely volunteers at each of the five corners. Other than that, the only other person I saw out on the bike course had been way ahead of me half way through the race, until he went straight through a left turn and then I could have been the only biker out on the roads that morning.

T2 was pretty interesting. Couldn't feel my hands to get my shoes on. Couldn't feel my feet to know if my shoes were on. And had trouble finding my shoes because everyone had stashed their shoes in a white plastic bag at their transition! But once I found them, I flew through the run course. My old mantra "the faster you run, the faster your done" came back to me and all I could envision was my heated car and the very large hot chocolate I was going to drink when I got home.

But I finished my first tri in 8 months. And in less than two weeks I am hoping for an experience so night and day from this one that the only consistancy will be the word triathlon. Wildflower Half-iron Triathlon, here I come!