LP RR continued The Bike

Top Ten Things I Have to Say About the Bike:

1. No matter how much you train, 112 miles is a long way to go.

2. If your monitor says your heart rate is in high zone 3, but you feel like you are in zone 2 or 1, the heart monitor is probably right, and you are not.

3. Obey your hr monitor--or die a slow and painful marathon death.

4. Even if you can eat a steak sandwich and a beer while in aero on a training ride, when you race, it's f-ing tough to get down even a very soft bar.

5. Never listen to weather-people. If they they say 80% chance of showers and temps in the low 70s, what they mean is temps in mid- 80s with thunderstorm clouds and high winds, but no actual fucking rain.

6. I hate men on bikes. They think they are SOOOOOO big with their snazzy kits and $10,000 bike-get-ups. I am NOT A FLY! Just because I kicked your fucking ass in the swim doesn't mean you have to scream at me in your cocky voices to get over (especially when I'm already practically on the curb) because you and your drafting buddies are flying by in packs at like 50 mph. If you are a man reading this, I MEAN YOU! Wait, did you forget that it is cheating to draft? Because I know the truth about your bike split. I was there.
(Okay, I'm done now. I don't mean all of you. I do like some of you. Sort of.)

7. I feel better now. Okay. Here's a good one. If you have a black aero helmet with no real vents, chuck it into the trash now and get yourself a light colored one with many vents. Do this, or you will find steam slipping out underneath your ears and forehead as you ride, because your head has reached the temperature of a boil.

8. It is possible that if you are going uphill and the headwind is strong enough, you will actually go backward. This is true even of cocky men in bright-colored kits and million dollar bikes.

9. Oh, men again. If you are going to whip your dick out to take a piss, please look behind you so you don't spray someone. It's bad enough that we women folk can't whip anything out, we just have to pee in our diapers and let piss drip down our legs, but you could help matters by not rubbing this fact in by spraying your piss all over us. (More on this later. I got him back.)

10. Do not put Advil and sodium tabs in the same bag with your little peanut butter sandwich snack. If you do, and it gets hot, then the pills will melt, and you will be effectively poisoned by eating an Advil, sodium, pb sandwich.
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That pretty much sums up my ride.
Here is a little more in story format.


Here I am leaving T1. I look like I'm doing a little prissy dance, don't I? I think this is likely the last time I looked even a tad perky. Mrs. Z looks super, though. She is such a little beauty. I feel badly that I peed all over her.

Okay. I left T1. I went downhill. Fifty men had passed me by a quarter mile into my ride. This is the downside of being a female who swims relatively well, but whose bike is not so strong-- I spent the entire ride getting passed by men. Let me add that this isn't a problem except in IM racing. In most racing I am one of the last waves of competitors. I believe this is because the default assumption is that men are stronger racers than women, and should therefore go first. This used to make me mad, but now I sort of appreciate it. In most races I am ahead of most of the women coming out of the water, and my job is to stay ahead of them. I rarely get passed by men, though, because the men who are ahead of me, and who I can pass, are usually sort of poky. The men who passed me at LP, in a normal race, would be ahead of me the whole time. I never even SEE these men in a regular race. But in IM, because we all start at the same time, I beat them out of the water, and then they punish me for this by passing me in droves for the next 112 miles.

Okay. I really am down on men. I repeat, though, generally I like men. Men are both useful and fun to flirt with.
That is pretty much where it ends, though, except with a few special men, like Andy or my brothers, or my son.
Okay, onward.

I rode my bike for a long time. I went 43 mph going downhill the long hill. I felt strong and good. My heart rate was too high, and I knew it, and even when I didn't pedal at all it stayed high. This is probably, in retrospect, because I had a fever and was fighting off an infection. Also, perhaps, because I was so revved up and riding too hard. Ahh. Sometimes you just have to learn things the hard way....

On the first loop my new buddy Gilbert, who I had been riding with the whole way, whipped out his dick, put it to the right, and peed.
onto me.
Not the Golden Shower one hopes for....
I'm not a girl who likes them in any form, actually. Gilbert, who was possibly French, clearly didn't take my preference into consideration. I screamed, 'Argh!' and he said in a thick accent, 'Sorry, I didn't mean to get you.' and neatly tucked his member back into his shorts.

So I did what I had to do. I passed him. I stood up on my pedals. I pissed. Down my legs, onto my seat, and I hoped, all over Gilbert.

"Thanks, you get me." he said in his accent.
We both laughed. I liked Gilbert. I really appreciated that he had a sense of humor about it, because, well, some of you may have actually been grossed out and offended by such a maneuver.

I went through the first loop in about 3:05. TOO SLOW! And, alas, my heart rate average was too high.
I tried to tell myself to be patient. I tried to remind myself that this was my first IM, and too be smart, have fun, not let my dreams of a sub 11:15 get to me on this first try. But that was hard. I had expected that a 3:03 would be a very conservative effort. And it wasn't. Recognizing this and swallowing it on a day when you want everything to go better than anticipated was hard. What's so frustrating is that you have to take what race day gives you, work with it, and be smart about it. You can't get caught up in what it should be, or what you want it to be. You can't deny a hard effort or a high heart rate. You may be able to get away with this in a shorter race, but not in IM. Not in IM.

And now I know this, as opposed to just knowing this.

Next loop.
It lasted a long time. Gilbert, Jamie, a few others and I passed each other back and forth. I got passed by several women--Angie, Staci, Sonja (but I passed her back) and Marla. They are the names I remember. I saw Ange coming back on Hazleton Road. That was both awesome and depressing. She was a good half hour ahead of me already! But it was great to see her there and know she was kicking ass.

On the way into Wilmington (the 10 mile uphill section at the end of the loop) storm clouds gathered. Yeah! Cleansing, cool rain! I couldn't wait. It was hot. I had salt caked all over me and I was sweating like a beast. I had already had two bottles of water that I hadn't even planned on, in addition to my five bottles of PowerBar Endurance and Gatorade. I felt bloated and totally thirsty at the same time.
The wind picked up. The clouds were ominous. Come on, Rain!

Nope.
I waited.
No Rain.
I watied.
Just wind. Just dark clouds.
Then more wind.
Then just wind and bright sun.

Damn!

When I came up over the last hill I was relieved, and a little sad. My bike split would be around 3:10-3:15. (Turns out it was a 3:12.) And I was pooped. And bloated. I peed a little. It burned. What was that? Ouch!

But then I rounded the corner and Andy and Mark and all my Nor'Easter friends cheered for me. And I smiled. It was okay. I was done. And I just had the run left.

Just that little ol' run.