Timberman 70.3 Race Report

Ange and Me--nervous before the swim.

The Cliff Note Version of the RR:
We will both go on to qualify for Clearwater. Ange will go on to break five and crush our entire AG. I will go on to have a great swim, and a pretty solid bike and then.........................

then slower,slower, slooooowwwwwwer, sloooooooooowwwwwwwwer, painnnnnnnnnnnnn on the run.

The Long Version of the RR:

Andy and I stayed at the luxurious Super 8 in Tilton the night before, which is a good half hour from the race start. So we got up around 4:15 a.m. in order to make it to the race site by 5:15. No one should be up that early. It's just not right. Anyway, luckily the Super 8 is right next to a 24 hour McDonald's, so I was able to get some coffee and Andy a very healthy Egg McMuffin Meal before the day began.

I, as expected, was a bundle of nerves and no fun to be around. However, I was definitely less scared than I had been the year before. On the drive to the race start the year before I felt like I was headed to meet the Grim Reaper, and by the time we began walking to the beach to begin, I felt like I did when I was told I would be having my first baby by C-Section, RIGHT NOW. Total panic-ville. But this year I was calmer. Last week I watched Jonathan something something--a US Olympian gymnast say that he was able to calm down before competing by telling himself it was "just another day of gymnastics." So I just kept repeating that to myself--Just another day of gymnastics. Just another day of gymnastics. I know you're thinking I should have replaced the word gymnastics with the word triathlon, but frankly, that word made my heart pound wickedly, so I didn't.

I went straight to the porta-potties when I got to the race site because I noted there wasn't really a line yet. The result of the porta potty trip wasn't satisfactory, so I knew I would have to make another trip--or three-before the race began. I found Ange in transition. We chatted and tried to stay calm. Then I went back to the porta potties to wait in line again. When I finished going to the bathroom I simply walked out of the john and got in line again. It was a good 20 minute wait, and I knew where I'd want to be in 20 minutes. So that was my early morning. In line, smelling the sweet wholesome goodness of porta potties filling up with pre-race jittery shit.

I exited the bathroom just as they were closing transition. I raced in, grabbed my wetsuit, cap and goggles, and headed to the beach. Ange and I were wave 10, so it would be awhile before we began.

The time actually went really fast. I took in a Gu and chatted nervously with the women around me. Finally we entered the water. I got right up to the front and to the right. Ange was right next to me. We said good luck to each other about ten times. I felt as if I would never see her again--as if we were both going on some long, long trip--and it was questionable whether we would both survive to see each other again. I almost felt sad. Weird, huh?



And then we were off! Ahhh! Finally I could let go of all of my worry and just go! My first ten strokes were so light--I felt I was just skimming the water's surface. Ten more strokes and that party was over. My breathing was labored. I had to keep trying to separate myself from a girl swimming exactly parallel to me who kept clonking me on the arms. I almost smashed straight into the second buoy instead of swimming by it. Argh. Here we go!

The water was warm. I felt I must be sweating and I suddenly felt thirsty thinking about it. Fuck. It was going to be a warm day. The morning had been cool, but I knew the heat was coming. There was no denying that now.

There were a lot of buoys. I kept thinking this MUST be the buoy we turn at to head into shore, but no, it was just another little one, ushering us deeper and farther into the lake. Finally I saw the BIG orange triangle ahead and Yes! people were turning!

I was now mixed in thoroughly with the stragglers from previous waves. The caps were mostly pink and light green--the two waves before us--but there were a few yellows too--women who had started 20 minutes before us. Wow. That's a long swim for them...
Then I saw the beach. THE BEACH! and then it hit me again, the beach... no... not the beach! I wasn't ready for the swim to be over. I love the swim. I am fast in the swim. I am not sucking wind violently in the swim! I feel good--don't put me on that damn bike! no!

But the swim always ends. At moments like that I think Alina has it just right. Why do the other two disciplines when I love the swim the most?

I stumbled out of the water. I began my run to transition. I hard Mark (Ange's Mark) and the hub. shout--Go Mary! The run was a single file path, and these two women from previous waves were ahead of me. I was, at first, polite, but then I said Excuse ME! very loudly and shouldered my way past. Don't yet hate that? Stay to the right if you sense someone wants to pass you! For crying out loud!

Anyway. Swim Ranking:
32:22
5/101 in AG
153/1900 OA (not sure how many competitors--I head about 1900 actually competed.)

T1 was fine. No major mishaps. The run to the bike could've been faster, that's all. T1 time: 2:29. Rank: 12/101 in AG

The bike. The course starts out hilly, then gets really hilly, and then flattens out a bit for a nice, pleasant middle portion. Unfortunately, you must repeat the hilly portion that you began with at the end, as it's an out and back type of thing. This is a big fat, bummer. In the last 10 miles of the bike you just want to grind it out and get it done. This course forces you to slow down and contemplate the fact that your average miles per hour is getting SLOWER. argh!

56 miles is a long way in my book. I had moments where I thought, God! This is taking for f-ing ever! I am only at mile bleep bleep! You must be kidding me!



I rode with two men the whole way. One was short and dark with a nice silver Cervelo. He didn't look at me once, even though we played cat and mouse the entire ride. Because this was an Ironman event we had our names on our bibs. I think this guy's name was Iain. I spent several 20 second bursts passing him, but I still can't be sure I was reading it right. I wanted to ask, but he seemed pretty intent on ignoring me. The other guy was wicked tall and rode a bright yellow bike. Every time he passed me I thought, Man! He is twice the height I am on my bike! I couldn't make out his name because his bib was turned around, but he was pleasant and he smiled a few times as he passed or I passed.

I passed many, many women on the ride, which was nice. This is, of course, because I was a part of the last female swim wave. There literally were no women behind me except those in my wave. Two 35-39 AG women passed me early in the bike. One of them was named Robyn and the other Laura(I read their bibs). I made a mental note to try to catch them on the run.

The bike ended FINALLY. I averaged 19.3 mph. My goal had been 19.5-- so pretty close. I had forgotten how hilly the first and last 10 miles of the ride was, so I was still pretty pleased with my ride.

Bike stats: 2:54:19
10/101 AG
543/1900 OA

T2 was FAST! I got in and out of there in 1:35. I was pretty psyched about that.
T2 rank: 2/101 AG

The run. I knew from the minute I got onto the course that it was going to be a tough one. It was hot. Actually, it wasn't that hot. I think it was in the mid to upper 80's in the sun. Here in New England, though, we have had two weeks straight of misty, cool wet. My body was not acclimated to nor happy about the heat.

I tried to take in a Gu. Uck. I did it, but I felt sick. About two miles into the run I passed Robyn. One down. About 2.5 miles in I passed Laura. How many were still ahead of me? Ange, of course, but how many more?



At the turn around I saw Mark and Andy. They were loud and encouraging--but at this point I felt like absolute ass. I was slowing with every mile. I decided my goal for the second loop would be to just not walk. I heard Jesse, Cait, Pat, Courtney and Chrissie, my QT2 team, cheering me as I went through the first loop too. I tried not to look as bad as I felt.

During the second loop I spent a lot of time just telling myself I was doing great, that whatever happened was fine, and that I just had to finish. I could feel blood blisters forming on the sides of my big toes. They squished in my shoes. Argh. It was becoming a definite, bona fide sufferfest. Good bye hopes of 5:15!

I was so happy when I made the turn to finish, I wanted to holler aloud. I didn't have the umph to do that though, so I just kept trudging. At the end I duked it out with a 40-44 women. She was awesome and just wouldn't let me pass. It kept me moving. Thank you, woman, whoever you are!

Final run time: 1:50:03 8:24 pace. (LAME x 1000)
rank: 8/101 in AG
363/1900 OA

Final overall stats:
6/101 AG
47/449 females OA
36/424 female amateurs
348/1900 Overall

The End.
Details of getting a Clearwater Slot in my next post!

I'm Going to Clearwater!

Timberman 70.3
5:20:44
6th AG

Great swim, good bike, shitty run. More details to follow.

Summer--Hanging On

I used up all of my profoundity on my last post. Sorry. Here are some photos of the summer to tide you over as you wait for my next super duper deep and meaningful entry.

Me, Ange, Alina


Super Fit Moms at the Beach






































Is this the right carb. to protein ratio?































Get in the water, NOW!























Noah: Head in the Sand






























Lara: the Height of Summer Fashion

I"ve Been Thinking Way Too Much

I’ve been offline for more than a week. It was, at first, rather difficult. I wondered what everyone was up to, how Speedy Claire did at Vineman, whether my favorite blogs to read had been updated and I was missing out. Then I noted that the internet satisfies my need to know things immediately. Questions that popped into my head could not be immediately satisfied. When will the triathletes compete during the Olympics? Who is that author I have read all of and who I know has a new book out, but whose name escapes me? What will the weather be tomorrow? What’s the name of that strange black duck floating on the ocean’s surface—the one who swims in packs and isn’t a loon or a cormorant? (An Eider Duck, it turns out—though I had to look it up in Peterson’s Guide to find out). That type of thing. I also was unable to take care of everyday life business. I have a list a mile long of things I must do when I get online again.

Nevertheless, after several days I became used to it, and I noticed that the sense of urgency and anxiety I carry around with me settled a little bit as a result. The irony is that when we are online we are sedentary and staring numbly at a screen, but that without the internet our minds, if not our bodies, slow down. We can’t know everything immediately and so there is reduced information intake. This is quieting. Life has gone on without us, without me. What’s good to remember, I’m realizing, is that life continues, inexorably and evenly, whether I attend to it or not. Acknowledging this fact is both freeing and morbid.

Okay. I’ll shut up now.

Timberman 70.3, the A RACE, is next weekend. I’ve been trying to put things into perspective. This has taken the form of ironing out why I do triathlon in the first place, and what this race means to me in particular.

My first conclusion:

This race doesn’t mean anything in particular. It is not the sum of everything I’ve done this year. I know it’s a total cliché to say that it’s the journey, not the arrival, that matters, but for me, I think, that it what I’m actually learning. This season I’ve had fun at every race (except perhaps booting at Mooseman), I’ve loved my training, the friends I’ve made, the community I’ve built around me here in Maine, the courage I’ve mustered in order to make these friends and build this community, getting closer to Ange and Alina around the common love of sport, testing myself day after day, and relishing what I’ve trained my body to do. I will have a great day at Timberman no matter what happens, because the race will be a celebration of the discipline and courage I’ve developed in order to make it to the starting line in the first place. I expect that if I don’t flat or crash or trip or something like that, I will crush my time from last year and I will have fun doing it. And if I don’t crush my time from last year, I’m not even sure I will be overly disappointed. How can I be disappointed with the result of one day’s race after the incredible fun and success I’ve experienced this season? This may sound as if I am mentally preparing myself to fail. Actually, I’m mentally training myself to keep the result of any race—this race-- in perspective. It’s impossible to keep it fun if you put too much stock in a single performance—if you give it power and meaning greater than the days that lead you there in the first place.

My second conclusion:

I arrived at conclusion number one by really working at the why of my need and desire to do triathlon. Many people claim to do triathlon because they want to see how far they can “take” their bodies. Some people say they do it because it requires one to maintain a positive, healthy lifestyle. Some people do it because they need a home for their obsession/ compulsion or addiction, and triathlon fits the bill. Some people claim to do it because it forces them to confront pain head it. There are a billion reasons one might do it, I guess. I do triathlon (and before that running) for several reasons, but at core there is one reason that dominates.

Working my body day after day silences, or at least quiets, my critic. I think most people have a critic. He lives inside us and gnaws away. For me, the critic is this core, unshakeable belief that I am indulgent, lazy and stupid, and as a result, I am not worthy—of anything—but most importantly I’m not worthy of being loved. This unshakeable belief is irrational, and from an objective standpoint, I acknowledge that it is, in fact, wrong. But that doesn’t matter. He, this critic, is a part of me, and though I haven’t learned to kill him, I have found ways to quiet him.

Triathlon has me spend hours a day proving my critic wrong. The end of a race is exhilarating because I have so thoroughly given him a beating—shown him that he can fuck off—because look what I’ve done! The problem, of course, is that if I stop triathlon, or running, or whatever, the critic will win. When I think of stopping, panic set in. Also problematic is that one fast 10K, one marathon, one Boston qualifier, one half Ironman, one Ironman—is never enough. The critic is unimpressed. I could be Lance Armstrong or Michael Phelps and my critic would just shrug and say, “Whatever. I saw you cut that last workout short. You and I both know the truth.”

This all sound extremely unhealthy, doesn’t it? I’d feel pitiable except that I’m pretty sure that most of you out there are equally, if not similarly, unhealthy. What I’m working on is the notion that 1. I can get rid of this critic by cognitively disarming him (this has yet to work, but I maintain faith that it might) and 2. Though the critic is mean and terrible and wrong, he has gotten me to do and try some pretty cool things which, in addition to quieting him, are really fun.

Breathing in fresh, sea air on an early morning ride, pounding the pavement so hard and furiously as Joan Jett screeches, “I Love Rock n’ Roll” in my ears, feeling so sad and alive while running in the cool wet of late November, executing a perfect flipturn in the pool or doing a length of fly just because I can, meeting a whole slew of people who are so fun, and healthy and alive…. The list goes on and on.

So, back to Timberman. I will have a great race. I will have a great race because to not have fun, to not rejoice, to not totally savor the amazing thing I’ve prepared my body to do, would be to allow my critic to win. He may have used shame and fear to drive me into this craziness in the first place, but next Sunday I will not allow him to have the last word.

Will be back soon...

Hi! I am still alive and well--really!
However, I am having an internet free week.
I don't want an internet free week, but the fellow from whom I have been stealing wireless internet access all summer either found me out or left town.
I'm at the library! (Love the library.)
I will catch up on all of your blogs next week when I have access again.

Until then, Happy Training.

Urban Epic Pictures

I'm still sorting through them, but here are a few random shots! The one of the girl in the wetsuit that is NOT me is Alina! Go Alina! There's also a bike shot of Ange. If you look closely you can see the blood on her shoulder and arm.

Urban Epic Race Report

Team Triple Threat: Lorenzo (Alina's brother), the hub., Alina


Me and the Hub. post-race

Just for the record, I was NOT supposed to do this race. It wasn’t in the plan, and until I found out that Clearwater was such a slim possibility, I didn’t even consider racing it. But when Clearwater DID become unlikely, I began to realize that Urban Epic and the local races might be as important to me as Timberman 70.3. It’s local, all of my tri and swim friends, new and old and including the hub., were doing it. I really wanted to be a part of the fun. Also, I had some race strategies I wanted to try out. I did some experimenting and practicing and it paid off, I think. I learned a lot.

We had to rack our bikes the night before the race. I actually like to do this. It’s one less thing to think about in the morning. Alina and I showed up with two of my kids in tow to catch the pre-race meeting Tri-ME was having to explain the course and to rack our bikes. (Alina competed in relay with her brother and the (my) hub. She was racking her bro’s bike for him.)

I checked in, got my number and then we listened to what the race director had to stay. Swim: strong current, new course, blah blah, stay right, blah, blah. Bike: be careful. Big descent early on that later you must climb (this turned out to be the understatement of the century), lots of potholes, city streets, be careful blah blah, Run: nice and flat—only 5.7, not 6.2.

I half listened. It would be fine. Just follow everyone else, that’s what I do.

I should have listened more carefully. Oops.

Anyway. I went to rack my bike. All good. I placed my seat on the rack and wham! My seat post slid to the top. I took my bike off the rack and examined the offending seat post. It slid up and down. The clamp was not holding the post in place. WTF?

I panicked. Luckily I hung out with EXACTLY the right people last weekend at L.P., the very people who could help me and the very people who were right there, ready to help! I had Alina run to get Tim, one of the owners of Peak Performance in Portland. He examined my seat post, removed the clamp. As he removed it fell apart in his hand. The metal had split clean in half. Apparently this might be because it was clamped too tightly, but nothing is certain.

In a very calm voice he said, “Okay, Mary. This clamp is broken. I need to go to the shop to get a new clamp for you.”

At first I was like, Fuck! My kids are here! I was supposed to be home by 7! This is serious! It can’t just be fixed right here!

Then I settled. Just a clamp. Can be replaced. And, most importantly, here was this super nice person offering to save my ass. Thank you, God. Thank you, Tim!

I hung out as Nat, the mechanic, drove down to the store to get the part. Then, later, I watched as he carefully replaced it and carefully placed my seat in the exact place it had been before. I wanted to kiss the whole crew from Peak Performance. What a close call. Can you imagine if that clamp had broken apart on the course during the race? Disaster narrowly averted! Peak Performance will have my eternal loyalty and devotion. Thank you Tim and Nat!


The next morning the hub and I rose early and silently crept out of the house. Lauren, my superstar cousin/nanny was taking care of the kiddos during the race. I had a Luna bar and we stopped to get coffee. I have graduated from egg, cheese and sausage on an English to a Luna bar and coffee. Not bad, huh? Ha ha! We got to the race site and met up with Ange and Alina. Also there were tons of acquaintances and friends. It was really fun to know so many people.

The swim was point to point. It began at Mackworth Island and ended at East End Beach in Portland. It was advertised as 1.5K, but in truth was about 1.5 miles. This was fine by me. I love the swim! This would give me a chance to get out ahead of some of the super fast woman competing in the race.

Although Ange and Alina are both 35-39 AG, they weren’t in my wave for this race. Ange was placed in the Elite wave which started the race (Go, Ange!) and Alina was doing a relay so she began 3 minutes behind me. Although Alina and I had practiced the swim for this race the week before, neither of us was feeling overly confident as the elites went off. This is because at the last minute they changed the entire swim course! This time we would leave from the opposite side of the island and face a massive current.

We had been warned repeatedly that the current was strong. We could avoid this, though. We had to swim out to the red buoys, straight ahead, and then the current would sweep us up and basically carry us the next mile to the finish.

Ummm. Right.
Didn’t work out like that.

The elites were first.
Sucks to be elite.

They tried to swim to the red buoys. They were off course. They were more off course. They were SO OFF COURSE there was no way they were going to make it to those red buoys! Finally, they began to try to swim against the current toward the buoys. They swam in place. It was fascinating to watch. Really. They literally could not budge! One elite swimmer finally made it and turned around it. He (or she) got beyond the buoy and then it was like Bang! He/she was shot from a canon into the current. The whole AG crowd on the beach ahhhhhed in unison. It was amazing! One by one the elites struggled around the buoy and were shot into the current at lightening speed. One elite just wasn’t making it, though. He was struggling in place and it didn’t look like he’d ever get to the buoy. I couldn’t watch it was so upsetting. Later, I would pass this guy. n the swim.

The race director made a snap decision. The Age Groupers would not head to the red buoys. They would swim straight out, grab the current and then aim for the next set of buoys further down the swim course. There was certainly no argument from us! No way did I want to fight Mother Nature on this one!

When it was finally my wave’s turn to go I was ready. My thought was that I would get out front and keep swimming to the right until the first set of buoys we had to go through were close by. Alternatively, I would find a fast blue cap from my wave who seemed to have a good strategy and follow him/her. This is what I ended up doing. Worked great.

Right before the swim started I turned to the guy next to me. We had both creeped out ahead of everyone else-- A mark of a confident swimmer. “Are you a superstud swimmer?” I asked. “You bet,” he said. “Good,” I said. “I’m following you.” Then the race director shouted for us to go.

I followed said dude. I couldn’t really draft him. He was just ahead of me—but not too close. Perfect, however, as a moving sight marker. I just looked for his blue cap every time I sighted. Worked like a charm.

The swim took me close to 34 minutes. It took some swimmers over an hour. Some 1.5 K swim! Ha ha!

After the swim I staggered onto the beach and looked around frantically for the hub. There he was. Yes! I screamed, Hi! And ran on. The fact that he was there meant that Alina had not passed me! I knew there was a good chance that she would. She is an awesomely fast swimmer. But she didn’t. She finished a minute and a half faster than me, but she did not pass me! Yeah me!

There was a .65 mile run to T1. The run was significant enough that they had us do a mini-transition right at the beach. We had to find our white trash bag with our number on it, pull out our running shoes, and stuff the wetsuit, cap and goggles into the bag. I was worried about this little mini-transition. How would I find my bag amongst the hundreds of other white trash bags? But it worked out. It usually does.
T1 time: 6:56

At T1.5 I pulled off my shoes, stuffed my feet into my bike shoes and pushed my new pointy helmet on my head. I felt pretty dumb about the pointy helmet. I need all the help on the bike I can get on the bike, which is why I got it, but I'm not a super good biker, and I didn't want others to wonder why such a lame cyclist had treated herself to one! Anyway. I carefully mounted my bike and began to ride up the winding hill onto the course.

I admit it. I am a chicken on the bike. Within a mile there was a really steep descent that ended at an intersection where cars were zipping past. I braked the whole way down. No way was a bombing down this hill straight into traffic! After this crazy descent the course wove its way through city streets; streets with potholes, grates, manhole covers jutting out, rocks, glass--you name it. Also, there were cars everywhere. We must have crossed a dozen intersections--all of which were manned by policeman and volunteers-- but that wasn't enough to stop my heart from racing at each one and my legs from braking until I was going about 2 mph. Finally we left the city and began riding on slightly less trafficked roads. This race definitely was urban, I'll say that.

My average pace at this point was 17 mph. Not even funny. I started to push harder to make up lost time. Then I slowed again. The plan was not to hammer to make up lost time. The plan was to practice: practice pacing for my 1/2 Iron coming, practice being disciplined about sipping my drink and taking in gels. Disciplined about not letting a slow start ruin my careful and thoughtful race plan. But I wanted to hammer. 17 mph. You had to be kidding me!

Also, I was alone. I had been alone since the start of the bike--so much so that I often contemplated whether I was going the right way. Right at the beginning of the bike I had passed one woman and one man had passed me, but I hadn't seen a soul since then. I tried to push it harder now that I was out in the open, but it was difficult. I felt as if I was on a training ride.

I rode that way for some time. I had gotten a big enough lead on my AG in the swim that I didn't see any of them for a long time. About 25 minutes into the ride my former next door neighbor and former babysitter growing up passed me at lightening speed. I knew she would. I was just waiting for it. She smiled and we exchanged niceties. A few AG men from the wave that had started ahead of me passed me too. I was getting passed a lot. Sort of deflating. It's great to be fast out of the water, but kind of sucky when your bike isn't nearly as strong as your swim!

At the half way point we entered a lolly-pop turn around. I shifted into granny keep safe mindset again. Have I mentioned I also brake for every turn, especially left-handed turns? Argh. The second AG woman from my wave passed me then; Carrie. She is a serious rock star cyclist. In fact, she had the fastest bike split of the day for women, including Becky Lavelle and the other pros! (Granted, Lavelle did get a flat, but there were other pros in the race as well.) She sailed passed me and I wondered if she'd catch Erin. Those two are pretty competitive, but Erin seems to usually come out on top. Maybe not today. Carrie was moving!

The rest of the ride was uneventful until I hit the steep descent (now an ascent) that had welcomed me into the ride. Oh My God. I don't think I've ever been closer to teetering over on the bike. If my average mph was slow from being cautious, it was going to be seriously pathetic following this hill! Volunteers stood at the top ringing cowbells, but they couldn't drown out the sound of my heaving breath as I tried to crest the damn thing!

Finishing the bike I knew I must be 3rd or 4th woman overall, not including the elites, like ANGE. :) A bunch of men, but only three women (that I counted) passed me. The bike had been 26 miles as opposed to the 40K, advertised, but this didn't surprise me. The 1.5K swim was actually 1.5 miles and the run was reportedly quite shy of a 6.2, plus they had that weird .65 run to T1. Not exactly an Olympic distance race at all.

The advantage of having been downright pathetically conservative on the bike is that I had a pretty strong run. It wasn't ripping fast, but it was steady and in control. I felt tired but confident during the whole thing and I finished it in about 7:09 pace, which is pretty good for me; about 10 seconds per mile slower than my regular 10K pace. I was pleased. I had enough gas to be silly at the finish. We'll see how those pictures turn out!

At the finish I found the hub, Alina and her brother Lorenzo. They had crushed the relay field by more than 10 minutes. They seriously were a Triple Threat (their team name). Alina had the 2nd fastest swim split of the relay competitors and the hub. had the fastest run split. Lorenzo was 4th, I think, on the bike. Pretty awesome.


Then Tim walked up to us(Tim who had helped me the night before) and told us the bad news. Ange had crashed on the bike.

My heart dropped. Was it bad? Was she okay? Did she finish? Alina assured me that she had finished--that she had looked strong and that she hadn't noticed her looking injured. Then Ange limped over.

Her shoulder was taped up and she had nasty bloody scrapes all over her arm. She also looked a little stunned. She explained that she had nearly missed a turn at mile 4 and had to brake very hard, very suddenly. She flipped over the bars. No one was around. Had it been me, I would have sat there until discovered, and then I would have dropped out of the race. Not Ange. She got back on that bike and finished with a bike split much faster than mine. The girl amazes me. She then went on to pass several of her elite competitors on the run, running would had to be close to 6 min. pace. She finished fifth among woman. The top three women (including Lavelle) were pros. The other woman, a local athlete that is really good, was third overall. Ange would have been faster than this woman had she not crashed. But you wait. She's going to get her next time.

We stood around for awhile waiting for the awards. Because Ange had raced as an elite she was out of the AG running, and so therefore I was 2nd in my AG. Carrie, the girl of fastest bike split fame, was first. I was the fifth non-elite woman overall. I was 12th woman overall including the elites. I'm pretty proud.

Final times and places:
225 competitors
Age Group: 2/13
swim--about 1.5 miles: 33:58 rank: 19/225
bike--1:20:54 boo! 19.1 mph rank: 80/225
run--40:45 rank: 38/225

Think my ride was a little too in control. Claire, I really need your help!
It was a great race.

All I have to say is, Where the hell is the Ark? I want to get on it! It won't STOP RAINING!

There is a short story by Ray Bradbury called All Summer in a Day. Is anyone out there familiar with it? It takes place on Venus. On Venus it never stop raining except for once every seven years.

I am in that story.

In other news, when I went to pump my tire today the tip of it flew off and the tire went flat. The hub. is in MA. I had to change it alone.
And I did it! It took me 12 minutes. Not bad. (Okay, it's bad, but it's not bad for me!) It looks to be perfectly fine. We shall see on my ride tomorrow. ha!

Lakd Placid 2009: Holy Shxx

Hey everyone! I fear I'm losing all of my readers because I have such limited access online right now! Ahhh! Sorry-and I do plan to get all caught up on eveyrone's blogs VERY soon. I hope you are all having a fantastic race season!

So I'm in! Ange and I and a couple friends stayed up all night in line and it's now OFFICIAL. We will be competing at Lake Placid in 2009!

I plan to write a more thorough report of the weekend soon. For now, just a few blurbs:

Holy shit did it rain. It never stopped. It was torrential. This didn't seem to deter the 2500 IM athletes from taking on that course! How inspiring!
Less inspiring was the realization that between Ange's family, my family, and our friend Mike's family, we had eight kids to take care of as we watched the race. And did I mention that we were CAMPING? Camping, eight kids, torrential rain. I think we were serious IRON spectators! The thing is, kids are so resilient. They had a great time, and are still talking about the weekend. Crazy! I need to give a HUGE shout out to the people at Peak Performance in Portland, Maine. They let us camp out under their tent the whole day. Thank you Nat and Tim! You saved us!

Also totally inspiring: My coach, Cait, and her longtime boyfriend, Tim Snow, got married on Friday night at Mirror Lake. Then Cait went on to WIN the race, running a 2:59 marathon, the course record for women, to boot! I cried watching her run the final lap. It was truly awesome. Tim (remember, Hi, I'm Tim?) finished 10th overall, Jesse finished 18th and was the 4th amateur, Pat (another QT2 coach) was 4th in AG, and all the other QT2 athletes had great races--esp. Kim!

Ange and I had lots of time to hang out, chat, commiserate about the pouring rain--especially because we decided to go to wait in line at midnight the night before registration! (I will add that this was not my idea... ha ha!) It was nuts! But we were 15th in line, and secured ourselves a spot very nicely! We were able to hang with Tim (owner of Peak Performance) and Mike, the other family guy with whom we were camping, and so it was acutally kind of fun in a twisted kind of way. And most importantly, the torrential rain stopped by about 11 pm, so though we were totally damp, with wet shoes, sleeping bags and clothing, at least we weren't rained on....

More stories later!
I'm excited times a thousand for this race!
Next up: Urban Epic Triathlon on Saturday. Ange, Alina, and all my new Maine triathlon pals will be there. I can't wait!

Scarborough Tri Race Report

1/3 mile ocean swim
15 mile bike
3 mile run

This was the most fun I’ve had in a tri all season. First, it was super fun to compete on old stomping ground. Scarborough is the town adjacent to Cape Elizabeth (my home town) and we frequented Scarborough Beach in high school. It has great sand and great waves. Second, my friends Alina and Heidi and Alina’s oldest, Maria, came to cheer Ange and me on. They even had a sign that read Go Mary on one side and Go Ange on the other! It was great. Third, Ange and I were right next to each other in transition AGAIN. Not the same rack—we are talking right next to each other! She was number 65 and I was 66. Something is clearly going on here. Finally, the surf was up, baby! Not just a little up--we are talking six and seven feet waves up. It was nuts! It was so fun!

I admit I was a little gun shy about the swim when I arrived. At the Cohasset Tri we had to run into the surf and the first buoy was only about 200 yards away. I immediately got trapped under bodies as people punched and kicked their way to that first buoy, and I panicked. This was the same kind of run start into the ocean, but the first buoy was much farther out (thank GOD) and so people spread out once we dove into the waves.

The first part of the swim was crazy. It’s hard to even call it swimming. I would take a few strokes, get knocked backward by a wave, stand up and try again. I felt like I was swimming (or flailing) in place! It has been reported by Alina and Heidi that Ange did the BUTTERFLY to get through the waves. I know you all know she is a kick ass swimmer, but what you may not know is that her when in college, her events were the 200 fly and the 400 IM. If you paid me 100 bucks I’m not sure I could complete a 200 fly! Anyway, apparently doing the fly through the waves worked, because she had one of the fastest swim splits of the day. I think she must have done a few strokes, then dove under a wave, and then emerged swimming the fly again. Pretty cool.

Once I finally got to the first buoy I did okay too. It was smooth sailing then. We were out far enough so that we rolled with waves before they crested, and we were with the current, moving right along. It was hard to sight, though. The huge swells got in the way of viewing the buoys. When I finished swimming and tried to run the final steps to the beach, the ocean totally played with me. A wave crashed on me and I lost my balance and the current just pulled my feet in every direction. It was horrible and hilarious at the same time. Finally I stumbled to the sand, and then began peeling my wetsuit off as I tried to run through the deep sand to the boardwalk. I saw Alina and Heidi cheering for me. That’s all I needed to get me to pick up the pace and get my game face on!



(That's my game face... ha ha)
My transition was a little slow. We had to stuff everything into a plastic bag with our number on it so it could be transported to the finish since this was a point to point race. I got distracted when I noticed Ange left her green transition towel out, so I stuffed it in her bag before pulling my bike off the rack and running out.

There was a long stretch of hard packed sand to travel over once we were allowed to mount our bikes. I am a sand wimp! I am still so new to biking that I haven’t forgotten what it’s like to lose control of the bike and fall. One poor woman was behind me as I slowly moved through the sand. I think she didn’t dare to pass me because of the sand and because the path was narrow, but I still didn’t pick up the pace. I just crawled until we got to the road.

When I finally made it to the pavement I got up in my saddle and cranked! The girl behind me passed me immediately though, probably so filled with pent up anger at my slow pace that she couldn’t control herself. A minute later I flew past her again. She was a woman, and so therefore I had to pass her. That is the rule.

I passed a bunch of men. I rode past Mark, Ange’s husband, and he recognized me and said hi. I went on passing men for awhile. I knew that I was one of the first in my wave out of the swim, so I figured I must be doing well as no women had passed me on the bike yet. I was just having this thought when a woman sailed past me like I wasn’t even moving. Woah! I knew immediately who it was—this woman Carrie who lives in Cape Elizabeth and is a scary good cyclist. I tried to go after her, but that was a joke. Soon she was just a dot in the distance. No one else passed me until the end when one other woman passed me. It was Allison, a friend of Ange’s and another awesome cyclist. I knew I would beat her in the swim. I was hoping to hold her off on the bike until at least the run, though. She is an awesome cyclist but an even better runner.

By my count I was in fourth for woman at the end of the bike. Ange was first out of the water and I knew I probably wouldn’t see her for the rest of the race. I did not. I had passed the pissed chick early in the bike—still not sure who she was. I passed another woman close to the end of the bike who I knew was Bernadette, an awesome swimmer who had, predictably, kicked my ass in the swim. Carrie and Allison, as predicted, stormed past me at lightning speed after I beat them in the swim. The 40-44 women started three minutes behind us, so I knew I probably wasn’t a TRUE fourth, but it was fun to pretend.

The run started downhill. Wahoo! I was flying! I hit the first mile. 5:52. What? Okay, I was flying, but I have never down a 5:52! I felt great until I realized there was no way it was a real mile. Still, I was encouraged and picked up the pace.

I heard panting behind me and I knew I was about to be passed. Was it a girl? Ahhh, no. just a guy. Okay. I began to run scared. I knew a ton of women must be close behind me waiting to take away my precious fourth place.

We ran straight on a trail for awhile, and then did a 180 and came back the way we had come. This is when I really got scared. At first I didn’t see any women. All good. Then, they came. There they were, one after the other, probably only a minute or two behind me, coming coming. Yikes! I saw this woman Catie, a 40-44 who I know had a good chance of winning the race. She was moving! I got a little panicky, and began trying to run faster. This didn’t really work. I was already maxed out!

I hung on and didn’t get passed before the end (by any WOMEN, that is. Psych! I had finished in fourth—at least for now. We’d have to wait for the results to see how many 40+ women had kicked my butt. Later I learned this number was TWO. So I finished in sixth; fourth AG. The top six women were all between 38-45. And Ange had won the whole thing. She is a superstar!

Final splits/rank--out of about 300 competitors
Swim: 10:55 Rank OA: 37
Bike: 46:17 Rank OA: 42(includes both transitions)
Run: 19:12 Rank OA: 61



I feel great about my race! They gave me 2nd AG because Ange and Allison were 1 and 3 and they are 35-39. Wahoo!

Bad Air Quality and Other Little Tidbits

   This is my playground, baby! Apparently the air quality here in Maine is super bad this week. This is a result of the pollution sent our way courtesy of the mid-west and the south. Thanks, guys! Kidding. Anyway. Generally speaking if the newspapers warn us of bad air quality I notice, tuck the info away in my bag of info I plan to ignore, and then put on my running shoes. This is not easy to do when you are living under the same roof as your mother, however. Take this morning's conversation. Mary: (comes in dripping with sweat after a refreshing 90 minute bike ride..) Hi Mom. Mom: Please tell me you're not going to run now. Mary: Ummm... Mom: Did you read the paper? Look at this-- (Mom quotes in a pinched voice, "'Ozone doesn't have a smell, and you can't see it, so it's the perfect thing to ignore,' said Edward Miller, Executive director of the American Lung Association. Miller acknowledged that many residents don't pay attention to air alerts and don't change their behavior, refusing to follow general tips such as refraining from strenuous outdoor activity." Mary: ummm.... Mom: And this, "Miller likened the effects of ozone to 'a sunburn on your lungs?'" Mary, we are talking sunburn of the lungs! They advise not to exercise at all and between today and yesterday you have been out there for hours! Mary: Ummm.... Mom: I really don't think you should go on that run. Mary: Ummm...Ummmm..... Ummmmmm.... So, are the kids at the beach with Lauren? (Lauren is my awesome 17-year-old cousin who babysits the kids when I am working out each morning.) Mom: Does your throat feel scratchy? Mary: (Thinks to herself, yes, in fact my throat feels like I just smoked a pack of Marlboro's... Hmmmm....)No, I'm fine, Mom! I feel great. I think that thunderstorm yesterday really pushed that bad air out of here. I'm not going for a long run. I'll be right back. Mom: Why? What is missing one small run? Mary, I'm starting to believe that you have a problem. Normal people do not work out in this weather. Mary: Really? How come I just saw about a dozen people out riding and running this morning, then? (Mary thinks to herself, hmmm. I guess I was the only one at the track yesterday, wasn't I....and, I guess I didn't see anyway out riding this morning, either. strange.) etc. etc. Of course I went on the run. Did you even doubt me for a moment? Come on. You would've too. I know you out there! Admit it! Admit it! You run in this shit too! Anyway. My child care arrangement with Lauren is working out superbly. Each morning I rise, ignore my children as Lauren gets them breakfast, and then leave the house to do my thing. :) I return, and they look at me and say, "No! Mommy, you just left! Go out again! You're not done yet, are you? Don't you have to swim in the ocean now?" It's really quite awesome. After a shower I collect the kids, haul them to the beach as they weep that they want Lauren, and that is that. They are all in love with her. She takes them on walks, does puzzles with them, plays games with them, feeds them their favorite, forbidden snacks, watches Curious George with them on TV and paints their nails and does their hair (well, the girls, anyway.) They are IN HEAVEN. I'm getting anxious and excited about my race on Sunday. This week has been a recovery week for me which I really needed. My heartrate has been stubbornly low for weeks now. The last two days it has just started to rise (hopefully this isn't due to the air quality!). Also, I slept well last night. This has been a problem the last few weeks. I have that jumpy leg I've been doing too much thing going on. This week I have just done a few recovery rides and only a little bit of zone 2 work. It's been nice, and I'm back! Super Mary!

70.3 World Championship: A Dream Dashed

So.
Ange emailed me this morning to let me know she had been browsing through the Timberman 70.3 website and had discovered a sad piece of news: they are only offering two spots to Worlds this year in the 35-39 female AG. Last year they offered five, and it rolled down to like twelve or something. This year—no such thing. Two spots! My guess is that Ange is still going to have the option to go. She has been top three in every triathlon she’s done this season—even the all New England super competitive races. She’ll be up there for sure. I really, really believe I will be up there too. I was hoping for top five AG. Timberman, like most of the big 70.3 World Qualifiers, draws a big, competitive field from all over the country. To be top 5 would definitely be a fantastic achievement. But this year it won’t secure me a spot at Clearwater. Boo!

I had been warned this was going to happen. They added more qualifying races and then cut the spots offered at each race. This will make the 70.3 World Championships much more competitive, and therefore much more sought after. I doubt sincerely that the slots will roll down at all at Timberman. You get top two, or you don’t go.

Since I discovered this little bit of tragedy (for me) I have come around slightly. First, there’s always the chance that I will have the race of my life and actually place in the top two. There is also the chance that it will roll down to me—wherever I place. However, I’m not planning on either of these things happening. Right now I’m focused on the possibilities that have become visible now that I am not so focused on Worlds.

I could do a fall marathon. I could do Bay State with my running club and train with my running friends who I miss very much. I could just play this fall and do a few sprints and monkey around. I could take the money we would have spent on going to Worlds and put it toward a trip that Andy and I could take together—a trip that includes a triathlon or a marathon—or not. I could just race my heart out at Timberman and be happy that I gave it my all without the fear that my best won’t be good enough. I already know my best is almost certainly not good enough!


I have a few good rides up here in Maine since I moved up a few weeks back. This weekend the hub. Was here and I was able to escape for a long early morning ride that took me all the way up route 5 to Cornish. Here’s a picture of Cornish: It’s so country, so rural, it’s --- ? beyond nowhere land! It’s just quiet, rolling hills, grass, wildflowers, and an occasional rusty pickup or tractor decaying in an abandoned field. The highlight of the trip was going through Limerick center, where I really felt I had gone back in time to the 1950’s. There was an ancient Variety store, an ancient gas station at which you could also get coffee, and a sweet little restaurant from which wafted the smell of bacon, eggs, and strong coffee. As I rode I kept myself occupied by trying to imagine what life must be like in Limerick or Cornish. I’m told that many who live there commute out route 25 to Portland. That’s a serious commute!

This weekend Ange and I (and her brother, Jeff, and her husband, Mark) are competing in the Scaborough Tri. I just discovered that there will be two different transition areas and the race will end in a different place from either transition! Crazy! Apparently you must stuff your suit, hat and goggles into a bag with your number on it in T1, take your bike and ride to T2 where you have placed your run stuff, and then run to the end. They bring your swim bag to the end for you (if you have packed it right--!!!) but you then must back track to get your bike! I hope they have someone in T2 guarding the bikes… The whole thing seems rather fishy to me. Hopefully it will be fun! I’m hoping for a top three AG spot. I figure Ange will go top three, so she won’t be in AG placing. You need to get top three, Ange! I’m counting on you! 



We’ve spent the week at the beach with my friend Alina and her three kids. We go to the beach all day, return tired, hungry and toasted from the sun, and then fall into bed. Okay, it’s not that idyllic. There is sand throwing, tantrums, problems with sharing, and the constant fear that one of our six will wander off or go to deep into the ocean-but mostly it’s awesome.

I miss you all out there. I am writing this on Word, hoping that someday I will be able to connect and actually post this!

Cohasset Pictures

I continue my streak of smiling at the camera. The hub. thinks I'm a dork! Maybe I am....

Cohasset Race Report etc.

First, please forgive me, all of you, for not checking in on your blogs. I have limited internet access right now. Boo!

So, the Cohasset Sprint was on Sunday. I did good. I had fun. I loved, loved, loved, that the hub was there with me, competing.

Get this: The hub's number was 666. Ha! His first tri, and he is 666! I think he had fun. I hope he had fun. He kind of loafed it, but now that he's experienced what it's like, I know he wants to get out there and kick some ass.

But onto me! Me me me! That's why we blog, right? Ha ha.
Anyway. The swim: It was an ocean swim. The weather was humid and foggy and cool. The waves were big. They changed the swim so that instead of swimming out, you swam only 300 yards and then turned at a buoy and swam horizontally across, along the shore, and then in. I was psyched. I lined up right up front prepared to sprint. So did everyone else. In the first minute I foud myself trapped underneath bodies--and I could not find my way up. Panic ensued. Then more panic. Then I found my way up, cursed, and swam way out away from the group to catch my breath, my confidence--. This, as you might imagine, lost me some time. However, I think it also allowed me to finish the swim. I was pretty freaked out. I'm not sure I've ever been that panicked in the water. I swam, probably too leisurely, to the end, stumbled out, and then ran to transition.

It was a long run to tranistion. At least a minute. Maybe two? I was winded when I got there, scrambled out of my wetsuit, and set off again. Another long run. What was up with these long runs in transition? Finally I was able to mount. I wanted revenge. I was now pissed about my swim and ready to get back some time!

The Course was twisty and turny. Yuck. I like straight on ahead much better.... But it was fine. I found myself cutting back and forth with this other woman. She had a great back--very muscular and tan, and also an exceptional butt. I found myself wondering who she was and wondering if she was a model or just a tri goddess or what. Anyway, I digress. I made it my game to not let her get out of my sight. I knew by the 37 on the back of her calf that she was in my AG. I'd have to get her on the run.

The run. Sweet! I had a great run! Granted, I was breathing like Darth Vader and likely looked like I was going to die, but I still ran well for me. I passed a bunch of women at the beginning of the run who were in my swim wave. One was this woman Judy. She looked very --shall I say-- confident? lining up for the swim, and I was very, very pleased to pass her and give her a little waveon the run. I was passed by a blond woman (in my AG, shit!) who ran up to me and said, "are you one of Jesse's Girls?" I answered, yes (or I tried to answer. It was probably more of a wheeze.) Anyway, she said, me too! Stay with me! Her name was Allison. I coudln't stay with her, that was very clear. Thanks, Jesse. Stop being such a good coach, would you?
Anwyay. I saw gorgeous back and ass girl ahead and hammered to catch her. This took me until mile 2. Then, after I passed, I had to run scared for the rest of the run because I was sure she was right on my ass ready to pass me. Luckily, she never did. I beat her by like 20 seconds or so. Later, I looked at the results and found out she was from Dover, a neighboring town to my town. And then it hit me. Just last Thursday I had seen this woman running in Westwood and she had passed me! My thought at the time? Damn! Who do you think you are passing me, lady? No one passes me on a run in this town! And then I thought, Wow. She has a GREAT back.

So, the end. 107:39. final time. 5th AG, 15th overall woman in a super stacked field. (seven pros including Alicia Kaye, DeDe Greisbauer, Kim Webster, Karen Smyers etc.) 6:16 in the swim (quarter mile); 34:43 bike for 12.5 miles (acutally 11.95 on the Garmin) so that's about 20.6 mph.; 23:4? for the run, reportedly 3.2 but actually 3.35, so about a 7:04 pace.

I should mention that my buddies from QT2, Pam and Meredith kicked butt! Pam beat me by like 40-50 seconds and was 4th in our AG, and Meredith was 2nd AG. Yeah!


_______________________

One more thing. I just want to report on my ocean swim this afternoon. I swam along the coast, nice and easy for about 25 minutes. Then I turned around. IT TOOK ME AN HOUR TO GET BACK. I was swimming in place! It was me against the Atlantic and her vicious pull! Grrrr. Eventually I won. It just took along time and some serious self talk.

Back to Maine

This is Portland Head Light. It's in Fort Williams State Park in Cape Elizabeth, Maine. It's home. This summer we are having work done on our home in MA. I asked my mom awhile ago if I could move up to Maine for the summer after school let out-- with the three kids in tow. She agreed, and here I am. (thanks, mom.) There are a few problems with this arrangement. 1. The hub. can only see us on weekends. We miss the hub. 2. I miss my dogs, who are home with the hub. 3. My mom and dad might go insane by the end of the summer, and if they do, I will feel really, really bad about it. 4. NO WIRELESS INTERNET. In fact, right now, no internet at all. My mom's ancient computer is getting repaired, and currently I am using my friend's laptop, which occasionally gets access online when it picks up someone else's wireless network. Sigh. Hopefully I will find a way to keep in touch with my online world. Here are a few really awesome things about this arrangement: 1. We can go to the beach every day. 2. Training up here is awesome. It's beautiful and peaceful, and I can do my open water swimming in the Atlantic! 3. Alina, my best friend from H.S., is here with her three kids and our kids play everyday. 4. I'm now living nearer to my other best friend from H.S.--Ange! We hope to do some great training together this summer! ______________________________ In other news, I had a super deluxe bike fitting at Fit Werx on Wed. It was truly awesome. I love it when the focus is all on me! Ha! It took more than three hours. I came home with a new saddle, a new cassette (I was using a 12/23--got a 12/27), and a whole new position! It feels way more comfy on the bike now. I'm pleased. The hub., however, is not. Super deluxe fittings and new bike parts are expensive, and I "will not be denied." That can't be good. What do you think he's trying to say? (I can't hear you I can't hear you....) Acutally, I can hear you. I will never buy anything ever again. ever. Although I'm not really liking my wet suit these days.... Okay, what else? I have been a super slug all week in training. My heartrate refuses to be compliant and beat as I want it to beat. Instead it stays steadfastly in the recovery zone at all times. And I'm tired. Like really, really, please let me sleep all day tired. I did all my required workouts this week, but I did them without any umph, and a few I cut short. Next week I will be BACK--. (right?) I don't even want to post my hours this week because they are so lame compared to last week! Here are a few pictures from the QT2 Weekend. Thanks Michelle! Out to dinner: Kim, Michelle, me Kim "studying" Birthday cake for me. Thanks, Kim! Jesse making announcements in front of our Power Bar sign. We are a good little team, following all of our sponser's wishes. :) Kim looking gorgeous, me looking scary. End of the weekend. Goodbye! There are no pictures of us training, because, well--we were training!

Training Weekend: Part 1

A few verys:

Very fun.
Very hard.
Very satisfying.
Very happy about new friends!

A few firsts:

First time I rode a century-- 107 miles to be exact!
First time I have drafted on the bike.
First time I have pulled on the bike.
First time I have ridden with more than one person on a ride!
First time I swam 2 miles straight in the open water
First time I have been away from my kids for more than 3 days
First time I have logged more than 17 hours in one week of training
First time I have looked at my watch at 6:30 at night and realized I had been working out ALL day long
First time I have been recognized as a trooper--a non-complainer--and hard worker in sport (Thank you, Jesse.)
First time I have hung out for a long stretch of time with serious triathletes, most of whom are ten times better than me, and most of whom do ten times more than me in terms of training
First time I have felt young--younger than my age--in a really, really long time.

It was a great weekend.
Thank you, QT2!

Thank You, God

Today was the last day of school, and the last day of teaching sixth grade for me for a long, long, time.
I don't write much about my work. I have a fear that a parent of a child I teach will read my blog. You never know.
But I have to say it: this year was the hardest year I have EVER had in the classroom. I had a tough class, I am burnt to a crisp, and my life outside of school was so intensely busy, some days I thought I simply wouldn't make it through.
But I did.
It's done.
I wanted this school year to end even more than I wanted to stop running when I puked on the run at Mooseman. That's saying something.

Hello elementary library!
I made it.

You've Come A Long Way, Baby...

Today is Lara's third birthday.
She had a rough start, but she was one Iron Baby.




The hub. took this video. Kind of dark and depressing, I know. I wasn't walking again yet; those c-sections put you out for the first 24 hours or so. I believe I was actually in the next room bawling because I wasn't allowed in the NICU to nurse.



Four days later she graduated from NICU land and moved downstairs in the maternity ward with me!
Here she meets her big sister and brother for the first time. Jordan is three and Noah is 20 months. I am younger than I am now. Three years younger to be precise.



Happy Birthday, Big Girl!
(Please excuse my singing voice; I'm no Celine Dion.)

Since Saturday I've been thinking about something. I've never puked on a run before, but yet, the feeling was soo, soo familiar to me on Saturday--. I've been wracking my brain, trying to think why the puking while running thing seemed not too foreign, something I had done before--more than once. And then it came to me.

Keg runs.

I played rugby in college. Yes, yes. I know you all have images of women rugby players in your mind. But in division three (I went to Bates College way up in Maine--a really small school) the girls who play rugby are just girls who like to drink (a lot) , like to get gross and muddy, like to sing vulgar songs at the top of their lungs, and who didn't make the soccer team, were bitter as a result, and decided to apply their talent elsewhere...

I never did play soccer, but I did fit the other criteria. Plus, I really like to tackle. I'm better at tackling than I am at triathlon. Remember, I am really an aggressive bitch hiding behind a nice person facade.

Anyway. I digress. KEG RUNS! and also PUB CRAWLS! My boyfriend (at the time) and I kicked ass on team pub crawls. I could chug fast and run fast. But I NEVER kept the beer down when running. I just puked and kept going.

Just like Saturday.

You never know when a skill you have acquired in a previous life will come in handy.

Mooseman Race Report or.... I'm Humbled

This weekend was an emotional and physical rollercoaster for me. I have learned that I can fight to the end no matter what comes my way. This is good. But I'm humbled. In triathlon, unlike pure running, so many little things--mechanically, physically, mentally, nutritionally--can go wrong. To have a race completely come together I realize, now, is somewhat luck and definitely a gift. Mooseman was my seventh triathlon, and by far my hardest, not because I wasn't in good physical and mental shape, but because throughout the race things went wrong, and I had to pick myself up, get over it, and keep going.

I think I will start with the good. Here's a list:

*I really, really did well in the swim (for me.) I was the 13th female swimmer out of a field of 316, and I was 38/730 competitors overall. That puts me in the top 3.6% for women, and the top 5.2% overall. I consider myself a strong swimmer, but I exceeded even my own lofty goals for this swim. As a bonus, I finished ahead of several women who posted faster swim times than me in my previous tri this spring. Pretty satisfying.

*I was within 11 seconds of making the goal Cait (my coach) set for me on the bike and I exceeded my own goal of averaging 19.5 mph. I finished the 27.25 miles in 1:22:11 which comes out to 19.9 mph average. I did this despite that I had to stop to fix a dropped chain. My placing isn't as strong in the bike as the swim, but it is better than my bike placing in previous races. I'm pleased.

*I managed to average 7:28 pace on the 10K, and I negative-splitted, despite that I had to stop and puke one mile into the run. That's right. I puked.

*Had I not gotten a 2 minute penalty for drafting or dropping a water bottle (not sure why I got the penalty--all I can say is that I certainly tried hard not to draft! Pretty hard in a race that dense with competitors), I would have been 6/70 in my AG and 21/322 overall, female in a competitive, all New England race. With the penalty I was 9th AG and 25th F overall.

*I had a great weekend hanging out with Ange, her brother Jeff and another Mainer, Mike. Simply said, they are great people. I'm so glad I was able to spend the weekend with them. Thank you, Mike, for taking care of us! My friends from Team QT2 (and some not on the team but coached by QT2) were there too, they all did awesome in the race, and they were so supportive and great to have around. Also, I finally got to meet blogger LG! Cait was there and I saw her a bunch of times on the course. It was motivating. Three of my QT2 teammates and I finished within one minute of each other--and that was really fun too! (I admit I was the slowest of the four, though! :)

*Ange was amazing and finished third overall, just like I knew she would.

Okay, okay, on to the actual report. (Are you still there?) Ha ha. I know I blab.

We got up at 4:30 a.m., scrambled to eat and pack up, and got to the race site early. This was great in terms of parking, but bad in that there was a thick fog on the lake, and they were threatening to both delay and shorten the swim as a result. They ended up doing both.

We got all ready. Here's what's amazing--. Out of over 700 athletes total and 70 woman in my AG, somehow Ange and I were placed right next to each other in transition. Right next to each other! It was great. We donned our wetsuits and traveled down to the swim start.

Here's where things went slightly awry. The fog was so thick you could only see the first buoy--at most a mere 300 yards away. They delayed the start, hoping it would lift. Ange and I got in to warm up. The water was reported to be 58 degrees. Let me tell you something. 58 degrees is really, really fucking cold. We lasted about 5 minutes and decided that was enough!

We waited around for an hour before the officials finally decided to start the swim, but they shortened it so they wouldn't lose people in the fog. This was not good for me. The swim is my strongest leg usually, and to shorten it weakens my overall race. Ange, Jeff and I were all bummed.

Finally we were off. I felt great in the water. It was cold, but I felt strong. After vying for position for some time, I (amazingly) found a girl my pace and I latched on. I sighted only her, and followed her the whole way. Good move. Not only could I draft (the first time I have done so successfully) I also was disoriented because of the cold, and I made her do all the work sighting for real. She was awesome. She got right close to the buoys and was totally efficient. I looked at the results, and according to time and that I know she was a 35-39er because of her cap, I think her name was Heather. Thanks, Heather!

I was really dizzy out of the water, but I got my bearings pretty quickly and I was off. I was unsteady at first; I always am after I swim, but I quickly got the hang of it. Riders were EVERYWHERE--all over the road. No one seemed to be where they were supposed to be--all in the middle and to the center instead of to the left so others could pass. It was maddening and also scary. Finally things cleared out, but through the whole ride it was really tough to get clear of people. I had moments where I know I was drafting and didn't know quite how to swing it so I was still moving at the pace I wanted to but was clear of riders.

About 10 minutes into the ride I swerved to miss a pothole (the road was really bad that way) and I hit another pothole. It was bad. I almost lost my balance and I feared a tire was blown. Also, my aero bottle somehow came unhinged, flew upward and into my neck and face. There was Gatorade everywhere--all over me, my bike--and then I heard the bottle clatter to the ground and I heard a rider behind me little out a squeal. I think this may be where I got my penalty. I don't know.

I was flustered. I had no other fluid. I decided not to carry extra bottles, thinking I'd only need what was in my aero bottle. The guy who squealed rode up next to me and offered me one of his bottles. God, people can be so gracious. I declined, knowing people have plans and not wanted to screw his up. This fiasco was my problem and my fault. Obviously my bottle hadn't been fixed correctly and I should've had an extra bottle of fluid just in case. I was pissed--at me. I hammered on--and then hit what is called Devil's hill. Oh my God. I was so startled to see it in front of me and I immediately shifted wheel rings. I felt the gears skip, and then a loosening and I looked down to see my dropped chain. DAMN! I got off--saw it was still attached, spun my crank and it re-connected. Only about 30 seconds lost (not including the slowing, of course). I probably could have spun the crank while riding, but I was so flustered I didn't. Oh well.

The hill was so steep I was only going about 4 mph. I was feeling a little despairing--.

Things were not going well at all. I tried to just talk myself through it. This lasted for the next 10 minutes. Then I began to get thirsty.

Half way through the ride there was a water bottle drop/pick up. For the first time in my tri career I picked up a bottle! I had to slow way down, but I did it. Then I tried to open it. No luck. I moved slower and slower as I focused on opening the bottle, and finally I was able to release the top. I took my first sip. Paused. I took another. My hands were wet with sweat. The bottle slipped through my fingers and fell to the ground.

I admit it. I should've stopped to get it. But I wasn't rational. I didn't stop. A USAT motorcycle was right near me. Here, again, I could've been given a penalty. And I began to cry.

After about three or four minutes of pedaling and pitying myself, I pulled it together. I was fine. I probably hadn't gotten a penalty (only later did I find out I did, though again, I don't know if it was for dropping one of the two bottles or for drafting or not passing fast enough or what). I only had about 12 miles to the finish. I would be fine. Parched, nutritionally fucked-up, but fine.

Ahead of me I saw a QT2 shirt. I pedaled fast to catch up, and saw it was Chrissie! (teammate, Jesse's wife). It took her a second to figure out who I was. Then she recognized me and I passed her. About 10 seconds later she sped past me a lightening speed. I didn't see her again. Guess I was motivation!

I was feeling more and more parched and more and more tired. We made a few turns onto horribley paved roads. I thought I must be close to the end. I fell behind a biker who I thought might be Nancy Thompson. Later I found out I was right. I stayed about five bike lengths back and didn't try to pass. Here, again, I could've been tagged for drafting. I'll never know! I know I wasn't within three bike lengths, but there is no doubt I was intentionally not dropping back or surging forward.

When I finally got to transition I was so thirsty. I have never really been thirsty in a race. I have been dehydrated without really knowing it, but never downright thirsty. I had a bottle of Accelerade in my bag. I found it, chugged about half of it, and I was off.

Mistake.

I immediately felt horrible. I knew I was close to losing it. I was running very slowly, just trying my best not to throw up. I hit the first mile 10:32. Oh my God. I slowed more. And then it just came up. It only took about 10 seconds. It was all liquid. It was through my nose and mouth before I even knew what was happening. I don't think the spray hit anyone. I hope not. No one said anything. They just ran by. That was a relief to me. At that point any pity would have had me crying or screaming. I'm not sure which.

The good thing about puking, as you all know, is that you feel much better after you do it. I felt thirsty and sick, but better. I began running slowly, then picked it up. I had stopped my watch after the puke, and I decided not to start it again.. This run was not one to be recorded. This run was one to endure.

At about mile 2 I saw Ange coming back in the other direction. Holy shit. She actually didn't look totally strong, but she was still really moving, and I quickly figured out she had to be close to 15 minutes ahead of me. Wow.

The route was really hilly. I thanked God on the downhills and gritted my teeth on the uphills, hoping I wouldn't lose my lunch (or lack of) again. I passed the point at which I had puked. I hit mile 5. I dug deep. I tried to ignore the taste of vomit in my mouth and nose. I saw Cait and heard her scream--and then Tim screaming for me too. I pushed it over the last hill, sprinted as best I could the last 200 yards.
And it was done.

I feel better about the race after writing about it. Isn't it strange how that happens? I need to feel blessed that I competed yesterday, before the amazing heat rolled in. A bunch of my teammates did the 1/2 today.

I just checked the results and they all finished--and they all finished really well. Cait defended her title and won it again. Tim was fifth, Jesse was seventh, and Tim Tapply, a teammate, was eighth and Pat, another teammate, was 14th. Cait was 11th overall (as in overall both males and females) and beat the next female competitor, Karen Smyers (I know you've all heard of her....) by more than 12 and half minutes. Paul, Brian--you guys did amazingly well. And Paul, we need to bond about the penalty! NO FAIR! Most of all I'm proud of Kim, who was stressed out but calm and focused, and crushed that course despite the humid, ninety-five degree heat and those killer hills. Go Kim!

I Got the Paper, Ma!

Noah has graduated from Preschool 1. Go Noah! Only 18 more years of school to go before he graduates college. Only 20-22 more years if he goes to grad. school. Or, if he's like the hub, just 25 more years before he earns his doctorate. Or, perhaps, an M.D.? Only 26 more years if he goes to medical school--and only 28 more years if he decides to go to medical school and specialize in a difficult surgical field. Maybe he'll become a pro triathlete and save us some cash? Nah. Most pros have degrees and work another job to keep afloat. Baseball or basketball pro, maybe? That would save us some cash, definitely. I'll have to look into some kiddie basketball and/or baseball camps for the summer. Ha! Kidding.

For now we'll focus on having a fun, low-key summer, and then attacking Preschool 2 next fall.

I'm having a "recovery" week. Thank God. I'm feeling a little more zippy --although not totally zippy. Thursday and Friday are super light days before Mooseman on Saturday, and I need them! My ass has been hurting--the piriformus muscle--. Anyone else get that? Any solutions?

FYI, my very own good friend from high school, the super scary fast triathlete ANGE was this month's Gatorade Athlete of the Month in Triathlete Magazine! So cool! You all must check her out!

The last couple of days I have been in a correcting hell (gotta remember I'm a teacher). I HATE correcting. You spend tons of time writing perfectly careful, logical, helpful comments only to have the kids look straight for the grade when getting the paper back and then chucking it into the trash. grrr.

Send me fast thoughts for Saturday! I'm plenty excited and plenty nervous!