Issaquah Triathlon 2007 Race Report

This race sort of crept up on me - suddenly it was a week away and I couldn't remember the last time I did a brick or when I last practiced getting my wetsuit off quickly. But that wasn't enough stimulus to really think about it and prepare for it - I was busy and occupied with other things, so the only thing I did to specifically get ready for this race was put on extra BodyGlide before I put on my wetsuit on Friday morning so I could make sure I remembered how to get it off fast.

I tried to go to bed early - I was sitting in my bed by 9:30 Friday night - but I didn't sleep well. I didn't think I cared much about this race, but apparently my body reacted to the idea that I'd be racing the next day like it always does. Lesson learned: if I have eight hours to sleep, take that Tylenol PM no matter what I feel about the race.

I got up at 5; Issaquah is only about 10 minutes from my house, which is awesome. I wish all races were this close to home. I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Usually I prepare better than this and really think about what I'm going to eat, buying something in advance like a bagel and a banana or whatever, but this time, I just had that laissez-faire attitude. "I'll eat whatever I have around," I thought, and it was actually fine.

Starbucks doesn't open until 5:30 a.m. on Saturday, so I drove to Issaquah first. I got my Americano (with whole milk and two packets of Splenda) and headed over to the race site. Since it was like 5:45 and the race was to begin at 7, I got a sweet parking space right up front by the transition area.

It was a gorgeous morning - warm and sunny. I was actually comfortable walking around in my tri suit and a pullover skirt, no sweatshirt or long sleeves! Like everything else with this race, I'd given my clothing very little thought - in fact, I realized that morning I'd never tried wearing my tri shorts with my new bike (and saddle). I had a moment of anxiety about that, but then figured, what happens, happens. I can tolerate a sore bottom for 15 miles, right?

So once I got set up, I had to make a decision. Do I start with the "elite" women?

Now, all my regular readers know I'm by no means elite. I'm, depending on the race, a mid-packer. Sometimes up front in less-competitive races, sometimes way in the back. But in this race, the "elite" wave was self-selected, and the criteria was if you believed you'd complete the race in less than 1:28 (for women; men needed to finish in under 1:17).

Well, I did this course twice last year. The first time, I did 1:31 with a horrible swim and run, plus a dropped and run-over water bottle on the bike course that caused me to pull over and check my tires. The second time, I did 1:21:07.

So...I was fairly certain I fit the criteria. But I was struggling with the label: "elite." I'm not elite. I'm regular. I'm kind of fast sometimes within the regular people.

There were two other reasons I wanted to start with the elite wave, too: My son was racing later in the day, so the sooner I finished, the sooner I could help him set up and get him ready. And more selfishly, I knew I'd have a much better bike leg if there weren't slower cyclists ahead of me on the course. (Danielle argues it's a safety thing; someone going my speed SHOULDN'T be sharing the bike lane alongside a busy street with someone on a cruiser or mountain bike just out to have a fun time - but really, my motivation was to have fast cyclists around me to pick off one at a time, rabbits to chase down and help keep me pushing.)

I finally decided to just do it. After all, with a wetsuit and goggles on in the middle of a pack of women, who would know I was there? Who would question whether I ought to be?

The gun went off at 7:03 a.m. for the elite women. I immediately hung back because I know my swim is so weak.

For some reason, my first few strokes felt fine; I even got hit in the head by the girl next to me and I was okay. But then...as is common for me, panic set in. I couldn't put my face in the water.

I continued to do freestyle with my head out, turning side to side, but every time I went to put my face back in the water, my breathing rhythm was off. I sucked in water instead of exhaling. I took a couple of lengths of sidestroke, rounded the first buoy, and saw that I had a lot of open water. Most of the women in my wave were way ahead and the subsequent wave hadn't yet started. I took a deep breath, put my face in the water, and got back on track.

The course formed a rectangle from the beach, and you swim counter-clockwise. The parts to the first buoy and from the last one to shore are very short; most of the quarter-mile distance is parallel to the beach. For that entire length, I swam fast and comfortably - I even caught up to the slower women in my wave and passed a few of them. I had good rhythm. But I think I was slightly off course - I do think I swam further than I needed to. They didn't have any buoys in between the two short sides of the rectangle, so sighting was hard - especially since women who self-selected into the elite wave still wore the caps from their age group wave, so I was having trouble telling the red buoy apart from the red caps some women had ahead of me.

When I rounded the last buoy, I lost my rhythm again. I didn't panic, but I did slow down - and I got passed a couple of times getting out of the water.

Finally, I was out. I saw 10 something on my watch and was really, really disappointed. It didn't seem like 10 minutes; it felt much faster, and I had really wanted to do the swim in eight.

I ran to T1, goggles, swim caps, and ear plugs in hand. I managed to unzip my wetsuit, but for some reason I had trouble pulling it off my left shoulder! That's never happened before; usually I have it down to my waist by the time I get to T1. I was almost panicked about this, but I got to my spot, dropped all my stuff, and focused on getting the wetsuit off. Once it was off one shoulder, the rest slid off just as it's supposed to.

The rest of T1 was uneventful: socks and shoes on (because I'd never tried those shoes without socks), helmet on, sunglasses on, and go. I ran out, jumped on the bike, and had no trouble clipping in even with the new pedals and cleats.

The new course this year had one, well-marked no passing zone; I was able to pass a couple of people before that, then a couple more after. I know the bike route well, as it's part of one of the ways I like to commute to work, so I just started pushing hard. My "nutrition" strategy for this leg was just plain water, no calories, and I started drinking almost immediately. My goal was to finish my entire aero bottle by the time I returned to the transition area.

I kept passing this one guy on flats or downhill sections, then he would pass me again uphill, then I'd fly by him again. Finally, after the halfway point, I dropped him for good. Oh, and I had absolutely no trouble with the tri shorts and hard saddle - maybe it was just my focus on going fast, or maybe that tri suit really is the best thing in the world to race in.

Somewhere close to the turnaround another triathlete I knew saw me. She was already on her way back. I caught up miles later and passed her, saying hello, and from that point on (just a couple of miles maybe from the transition area) my goal was to keep her behind me (and another woman, too, who had passed me but I passed her back, saying with a laugh, "Are you going to let me get away with passing you back?" I wanted the competitive push).

I just kept thinking, "If you get to the no-passing zone, you've got this. Get there get there get there." And I did - I had no idea how far behind she was, but I believed her a better runner, so I figured I'd better be as strong as possible on the bike then have a fast T2 to be able to keep ahead.

Well, my T2 was okay - bike on the rack, helmet off, race number on, change of shoes, visor on, then I grabbed a little seven-ounce bottle of water with a GU taped to it. I forgot where the run out was; as I was looking around I remembered and started moving.

Uh-oh! My race belt fell off! I looked down and saw the belt had separated from its clasp. I tried to tie it around me while I was still holding my little water bottle, and that slowed me down. As I exited T2, so did that other triathlete. She saw me, said something I don't remember, and TOOK OFF. I watched her go - and I believed I couldn't catch her, especially since I was all involved with keeping my number on my belt and around me.

I remembered I had a pocket in my tri suit; I stashed my water bottle and GU there, then tied my belt back around my waist. Once that was settled, I got the bottle back out, opened the GU, and tried to eat it - but I think I got at least half of it on my face and hands. I licked the back of my hand to try to get some benefit, then shoved the sticky, half-full packet back into my back pocket. One sip of water, then the bottle went back there, too.

I really hate this run course. It's sort of trail, but not good dirt trail like I've been running lately; it's grass and uneven footing and because so much of it is grass, you can't really see what's under there to know where to step. It just sucks. Sometimes there's packed down dirt in the middle, sometimes not. When there was, I stuck to it. When there wasn't, I just dealt.

My heart rate, by the way, was between 170 and 176 for pretty much the entire race; the only time I saw it lower was on the biggest downhill area on the bike course, and even then it only dropped to 164. So I was definitely at a sprint-race effort the entire time, and I'm happy about that.

My legs felt sluggish, but not too bad. Mostly I was annoyed because my feet had fallen asleep on the bike and didn't wake up until I was about a mile from the finish line. I could run, but there was a weird sensation.

A few people passed me early on, and then something weird happened: I actually passed a few people! Running! That felt pretty good. I could see that other athlete every once in a while; the course isn't straight, so I could only see her when I had enough visibility ahead of me. She looked to be increasing the distance between us slightly, but not by a lot - it seemed to me she put on a burst of speed early on while I was slower, fussing with my belt, but then was maintaining a fairly similar pace to me. But I was running my own race: I didn't want to chase her down very much. Now that I think about it, I think that's a problem in how I race. I wanted to stay ahead of her on the bike, but I didn't really care as much on the run. Jessi wrote about that same thing recently and I totally get it - even though I didn't remember it at the time.

Oh, that's another thing that lets me know I did this race at my max sprint effort: pre-race, I had walked around with my Zune, getting prepped with some music so I'd have it in my head during the race. When it actually came time to race, there was no room for any thought other than counting my breaths. Seriously. I was pushing.

I definitely sped up toward the finish line, but it wasn't a full-on sprint. Again, I don't know why. It should have been; on nearly all my runs with the girls, we finish in a sprint. But I was just running and looking around at the spectators.

I knew I left T2 at 58 minutes into my race; I was incredibly anxious about not coming in under 1:28 and therefore not belonging in that "elite" wave I started in. The run was three miles long (not a 5K), so I thought, well, that's really close. I'll likely run 10-minute miles and therefore be at 1:28 exactly...with no room for error.

When I crossed the finish line, I looked down. My watch read 1:22 something. Huh? How did that happen? Was that a 24-minute three mile run? Over grass and bumpy ground, with a shaky slow start? Eight-minute miles after a quarter-mile swim and a 15-mile bike?

Yeah, it was - actual time was 23:xx, so even slightly faster than eight minute miles (by seconds, but whatever). So there's some running improvement for me...assuming the course was accurately measured, of course.

That other athlete came over to congratulate me and tell me that knowing I was behind her kept her pushing hard. I'm glad for that - we all need something to show us how good we can be, and I know I used her the same way on the bike. Who knows, maybe next time it will be the other way around.

But even if it's not, I'm proud of my bike and run. Not so much for the swim (although the winner of my age group exited the swim just after me, though she ran faster to T1 and therefore has two seconds on me for actual swim time). It was a good race and it reminded me of how much fun triathlon is - and how much camraderie there is even among those who compete with each other.

The only thing that put a damper on my good race was seeing how competitive the age group is. Last year, the course was slightly longer; if you look at last year's winning time for a woman and this year's, this year's was three minutes faster. So even adjusting for that, last year I would have placed much higher in my age group with a similar result - this year, 11th, I think? That's crazy! 30-34 year old women rock! And I know I shouldn't feel bad about where I placed, given that I did do well on the bike and run...but I wanted to be higher up. Oh well, gives me something to strive for.

And I guess too that in that race on the same course last year where I took second place in my age group with a 1:21:07, I didn't feel that great about getting an award anyway - I mean, I liked it, but I did feel like the race wasn't really competitive and therefore didn't count as much. I guess I really want to win when I think the competition is there - but for that, I'm going to need a lot more training - and less of this long, slow, distance stuff I've been doing.

So that's a goal for a future year: get really fast in sprints. I think I've already got a fairly good start on that!

This is like the longest race report ever...so I'll save writing about Gabriel's race for another day. Or maybe my other blog, on family.com! :-)

--

Update on final times:
At the moment, all the swim times are messed up on the web site; they include from the elite men's start, so you have to subtract the number of minutes from your start time to get your actual times. But since I started just three minutes after the men, it's easy for me. So here they are:

Swim: 10:57.3 <-- abysmal.
T1: 01:39.9 <-- could have been faster, but not too horrible
Bike: 44:53:2 <-- That's a 20 mph average on a slightly rolly course with two little climbs. I'm happy.
T2: 01:07.2 <-- Okay.
Run: 23:20.8 <-- Good. But could I push harder next time?

Total: 1:21:58.5. Nothing to be ashamed about!