Musselman 2015!
http://www.musselmantri.com/
#musselman2015
Saturday July 11http://www.musselmantri.com/
#musselman2015
Signing up for this race, the logistics seemed to all make sense. We were vacationing in New Hampshire the week before the race and we could "just" hop right over to Geneva, NY. Well as our vacation came to a close, the realization that we had to leave the island at 6:30 am to be on the road by 7:30 at the latest became a hard reality. Saturday morning we were up at 5 am, enjoyed one last cup of coffee, helped clean camp and we were off... We left Wolfeboro at 7:30 am with the countdown on.
We continued to cruise across I90 in NY with the estimated time of arrival of 3 pm in Geneva. But as we started to get closer to our exit, the red line around our exit was growing. There was a reported accident and Google was reporting 2 hours from our destination when in reality we were only a hour away. Finally we approached exit 41 and saw the warning sign flashing that there were delays around exit 42. We opened up Google maps and searched for alternate routes. With the app guiding us, we landed at packet pickup around 3:00 pm. Right on track.
We breezed through packet pickup which was impressive to be given a tree and cheese, checked into the hotel, signed the wall and we were early to the 4:30 race meeting!
After a light dinner and trip to Wegmans, we settled back at the hotel to prepare for the next day. The kids settled in watching a movie. My husband was washing fruit and I started laying out all the gear. With the gear was spread out on the desk in the hotel room, I started inventory for the next day. Cleats, helmet, glasses - check. Shoes, socks, race belt - check. Gels, gels and more gels - got it. All set? Wait, where's the wetsuit?! Ok ok in the car... now let's try to sleep. Yea right!
Sunday, July 12
4:30 am the alarm goes off and I hit the snooze. Coffee in the hotel wasn't being served until 5 am so I knew there was time. Why get up before the coffee is ready?
4:55 am: Now it was time to get up.
5:15 am: Coffee in hand. Packing the bag and double checking everything. The husband is getting up and packing his stuff for the day.
5:30 am: Wake the kids and load up the car.
5:45 am: Off to transition.
Being unfamiliar with an area can increase stress on race day. Thankfully, we had a line of cars to follow into the park. We followed the guys with flags into our parking space. Once we were parked, I immediately took notice off all the different tri-bikes around me. I sighed a little but looked at my roadie - with my aero bars and smiled. This was my first race on my new bike.
We took the walk down to transition, where immediately I was told where to go and got settled in with my other age groupers. My friend was 10 spaces over and another friend was the next rack. Setting up transition felt so easy this time. Almost too easy that I was worried that I forgot something which I did but didn't realize it until I was on the bike.
Transition was closing so I hit the line for the bathroom right behind my friend. As she was walking out she said something about nerves, and all the ladies behind me nodded their heads and said "we are all there with you!" Imagining this distance and walking yourself through it is one thing. Tackling this distance mentally and physically is another.
We took our pre-race photo and with that they called the ladies in pink into the corral.
As we squeezed into the corral, my nerves started to hit me. Closing my eyes and saying a quick prayer, it was time to head out to the water. Seneca lake was a pretty lake and the water didn't feel as cold as the water temp might had indicated. We walked out to the the start buoy's and waited for the horn to blow. And with the horn, we were off! After a few strokes, my breathing settled in and everything felt good. This is the first race that my breathing wasn't out of control and I didn't have to dogie paddle to get it under control. The water was a tad choppy and there were random amounts of lake-weed that hit my face. One huge piece of lake-weed hit my goggles. It was my goal to hit open water (without swimming off course) and to finish. I caught myself one time veering off course but was able to correct it. The only thing that really caught me off guard was distance between the 3rd & 4th yellow buoy and then how long it took to the boat ramp! Swimming is not my strong suit. I felt the tiredness set in and mentally, I had to keep encouraging myself to finish. That it could be done. About 3/4 the way through, I had decided that I would never do this distance again.
With the boat ramp insight, I prayed "thank you Jesus" and then was off to the bike. My transition time was pretty good, 2:29. Trying to mount for the bike, was rough. My bike wasn't over the line so I had to start over with that. About 1 mile and seeing a cyclist with a flat, my heart panicked. So I hopped off and checked my tires. Reassured myself that they were good. Back on the road I went. Once on the road with the feeling like everyone was passing me, I had to mentally talk myself through it. Another racer and friend encouraged me to keep up on my gels, so her words rang through my ears. Checking my distance on the bike and the signs, I breathed deeply only 51 miles to go. "You got this" is what I kept saying to myself. 5 more miles and what felt like the entire race field went by. "Keep your pace," is what echoed through my head. With each passing mile, I settled into the saddle and found the groove with one stretch my average speed was about 24 mph. It was crazy fun!! It was about this point I realized what was forgotten in transition - to open my Poland springs sports water bottle. So after I had almost wrecked trying to throw out a gel wrapper, I stopped and took care of the water bottle. The bike course took us along Cayuga Lake, the rolling hills and lake breeze felt great but started to take a toll on my legs. With a 90 right turn, into what was our only real climb but also the start of 5 miles of our biggest elevation gain and hills finished off my legs. Hitting those 5 miles and that first hill on no speed absolutely killed me. And I can climb! My legs felt so flat through those 5 miles where my average speed was just under 14 mph. Thankfully there was a fun downhill that took me all the way through to mile 51. And by that point, everything hurt and I swore to myself that this distance would never be done again. Coming into the home stretch, I hit every single pothole to add insult to injury. When I had just told myself "no more", a volunteer yelled positive words of encouragement that in my brain translated to "suck it up you are almost done' and with that, I finished hard!The more races that I compete in, the more I am taken back by those ladies who are older than I am passing me! I want to be them when I grow up. Running into transition with a lady who had the number 51 on the calf was no exception! She encouraged me that she started at my age (37) and that I could do it.
We ran into transition, racked the bikes, switched shoes and were off. This portion I knew would kick my butt. My running had been non-existent since mid-May due to an old ankle injury flaring back up. After 2 different doctors telling me different things, I was given the green light to try. So here I was on the half marathon course trying. And in that first mile, I was at peace and excited. My original goal was to finish. My husband's goal for me was under 7 hours. My watch told me that there was 3 hours to complete this half marathon and that made my heart leap. That could be done! No matter how many people passed, it didn't matter. The pace was set and kept. Run and walk for the first 7 miles then kick it in as I had done in so many other races. Around mile 5, my pace was steady and a finish time of 6:30 looked like a real possibility. Keep the pace, chat with racers. It was going great! Then mile 7 hit and my brain said kick it in but something was missing. Energy was there. Cardiovascular, everything felt great. And by completion of mile 8, my legs were done. It hurt to run. It hurt to walk. But I kept pushing through. Just finish was the goal. There was no more time dream just the urge to be done. As I came through one of the last aid stations, the volunteer asked if I needed anything. My reply, "I just need to be done!" As I slogged away, I heard her chuckle and said she loved my response. My brain, which told me never to do that swim or bike distance again had embraced the half marathon distance. I was comfortable with that now. 13.1 miles - no big deal. But those last 4 miles on Sunday were the most difficult to overcome. My legs had reached failure and yet I pushed on. As we reentered the park, the desire to "kick it in" was so great but there was no kicking it in. It was quite humbling to have to walk the most part of the last 3 miles. Everything was seizing up. When my calf seized up, my brain said "oh no, not with 1/2 mile left". Finally, rounding the last corner to the finish line there was my husband and 3 kids waiting to give me high 5's. I was able to run across the finish line.
There is a lot of time to think during a Half Ironman and even more so through the Ironman. The true test of this distance is reaching down to the depths of your spirit and compelling yourself to get through it. I learned so much about myself during this race. I came face to face with my fears and was able to meet them head-on.
Even though I swore never to do this distance again (several times too), I know my racing future will hold another 70.3.
No comments:
Post a Comment