Three Months of Summer and One Long Bike Race

          I can’t believe I haven’t posted since the end of July—nearly three months have passed! I guess when you spend the majority of every day in front of a computer in a freezing cold basement you don’t really feel like going home and sitting in front of the computer some more to write. Instead, I spent a ton of time with my wife, my doggie, my friends, and my family, and as much of it as possible outside!

We spent most of July and August gardening and hanging out with friends. I was recovering from the triathlon and still playing softball. I had promised my wife that I would take some time off from running races so that our every weekend wouldn’t be consumed. I am glad I did.

          We planted bigger gardens than we have in the past. Our new house has a lot more yard space and a lot of it is on the south side of the house, making it optimal for gardening. We put in two substantial raised beds and got busy planting in late May and early June. By the time July and August roll around, things are getting real!

The crazy, overgrown chard.

          Looking back through my pictures it would appear that I didn’t take too many snap shots of the overgrown garden, but trust me, we did pretty well. The snap peas, radishes, beet tops, and greens kicked things off. We were able to eat fresh salads, straight from the garden, in early June.

Salad, fresh from the garden.

           By mid-July we were starting to get our delightfully sweet, “sun sugar” cherry tomatoes and the beets, zucchini, chard, and cucumbers were in full swing. And a week or two later we were becoming inundated with tomatoes—both the cherry and the Roma—cucumbers, small bell peppers, and hot red cherry peppers. It was so warm we started to lose our greens, but we were able to replace them in the garden with Brussel sprouts—a late season, cold weather vegetable.

          Because of our great success with some of the crops we had to preserve the excess. With the Roma tomatoes we steamed the skins off and froze gallon sized bags of them for the winter. I also learned how to make refrigerator pickles—next year I am determined to learn how to can properly—to use up some of the bumper crop of cukes.

Pickles, refrigerator style.

          The garden is still coming along quite well, especially given the much cooler weather. We managed to nurse another handful of cucumbers, peppers, and squash from our plants by covering everything when it got cold. The brussel sprouts are really close to being done and we have been enjoying lots of sweet, delicious carrots! 

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          By late August, work was gearing up and I was having less and less time to spend outside. The fall back to school rush is a bit of a zoo, to say the least. There was talk between Running Buddy and I of a second triathlon but it rubbed elbows a little too closely with the first day of class and Running Buddy’s trip to Japan (so cool, right?!). It just wasn’t going to happen this year. Nevertheless, I had been able to keep running three days a week and cross training two, so I had stayed in shape.

          Which was a good thing because I had several races coming up the second half of September and through October. First would be the Tuff Enuff 5k obstacle challenge. This was a well-organized trail race that took place about 20 minutes outside of town. It was a beautiful day and the race was fun, although not terribly challenging. The obstacles were pretty manageable—especially when compared to the Warrior Dash—and the mud, generally speaking, was pretty minor.

Flexing, post-race.

          The following weekend I had talked Running Buddy into signing up for a 24 mile road bike race. It started and ended at a brewery, so to be honest, it wasn’t a hard sell! We both went into the race never having done more than 14 miles on the bike, so we were both nervous. It was another gorgeous day, however, so I think mostly it was exciting to set out and ride.

It's hard not to look cool in a bike helmet.

          I headed out hard in part because I got swept up in the excitement of racing and in part because I didn’t really know how to pace myself for a bike race of this length. During the tri the bike was only 12ish miles—I knew I could go hard the whole way. I wasn’t sure with nearly 24, so I figured I would go as hard as I could, as long as I could, and see what happened. At best I might finish in a decent spot, at worst I would need to back off at the end and get passed, but no big deal.

We had been warned at the start line about the early hill—apparently after about two miles you started a long, difficult climb. I was assured that the vistas were beautiful and that if I just took it easy it wouldn’t be too bad. It was bad. I am not usually too bothered by hill climbing—on a bike or a run—but wow, it was long and steep and crazy. Because I went out hard I was pretty much by myself behind the lead pack (that I ridiculously thought I could stay with for about 90 seconds) and the next bunch of slightly slower riders. I hit the hill and really started questioning why the hell I was doing this. It was very steep and very long. Every mile or so I would crest the hill, hit a slight downhill and think I was done, and then I would have to start climbing again. I was passed by more than a few bikers on the hill…I just couldn’t keep the same pace. Thankfully, I am a combination of fearless and hard peddling on downhills and flats, so I would often catch back up to those who passed me anytime things leveled out a bit. This went on for what felt like forever. I was sure that Running Buddy was behind me, cursing my name, planning on never letting me talk her into anything ever again. Finally—FINALLY—after what I was sure was hours of climbing (in reality it was five miles and about 20-25 minutes) I crested the top.

The course elevation.

           Yup, that was the elevation profile of the ride. It looks pretty sick when visualized like that. Five miles up, up, up. And then for the fun part! Which was really fun…but also kind of terrifying. I came down the hill at something like 30+ miles an hour. I topped out at a max speed of over 36 MPH. That kind of speed is pretty scary when you are a novice cyclist, especially on a bike with really skinny tires and drop handlebars. But, I am also really competitive, so I went pretty much all out down the hill and passed a bunch of folks who had bombed by me on the uphill.

          The rest of the race could be more accurately described as rolling hills. I went hard and still found I had enough oomph to keep up the pace. I felt really good until about the last five miles when my back and neck were killing me and my energy was really starting to flag. Thankfully I had brought some Clif Blocks with me and the little extra bit of sugar helped. Of course, the ride finished with two miles of uphill back to the start, and I kept catching a glimpse of a rider behind me. As we climbed he would close the distance, but once we hit a flat, I would pull away again. I was determined not to get passed. And I didn’t!!!

I made it to the finish line and felt elated! I had clocked a fastest mile of just over two minutes (bombing down that giant mountain) and the slowest of just under six (up the hill, of course). My average speed was 16.7 miles per hours (or about a 3:40 minute mile). I was pretty excited. I decided I would wander over to the finish line to get my results and wait for running buddy. I typed in my bib number and got my print out with my times and place. It took me a minute to realize but I noticed there was a “1” on my print out. Holy smokes! I had finished first in my age group!!! I could not believe it.

Running Buddy crossed the finish and didn’t even want to kill me, believe it or not. She had also had a great time! We celebrated and she took off for another engagement. I hung around and for the first time got to have my name called for an award! It was a great day!

Any race that begins and ends at a brewery comes with a beer.

And because of the brewery, first place in age group awards were big bottles of beer!

          Luckily, I also found that I wasn’t totally destroyed the following week from the bike race. And good thing, too, because I had the Pit Run 10k coming up the following weekend. But more on that soon—it deserves its own post!

Triathlon Race Report: From Vomit to Victory!

            It’s been nearly two weeks since the big day and I am finally getting around to my race report…life is busy, work is busy, and it takes a bit of basking in the glow of finishing a triathlon to feel like sitting down in front of a computer to type.

            I don’t normally suffer much from pre-race jitters. In fact, I really enjoy the process of competition and relish it, rather than worry over it. However, the triathlon proved to be a different animal altogether. In the week or so leading up to the race I was a bit of a mess. I was snippy, emotional, and generally short tempered. Wife figured out the source of my surliness long before I did and at some point put her hand on my shoulder and gently suggested that I might be nervous about the race. Well, duh. Why didn’t I see that right away?! To make matters worse, I had a bit of a bike debacle on Thursday that led to me buying a brand new road bike on Saturday—more of that in a moment.

            The week leading up to the tri passed slowly, but then it was suddenly Saturday and we had to head up to Albany to pick up my race packet—I did not want to add to my stress by having to pick everything up on Sunday morning. I spent 30 minutes grilling the guy handing out the packets on every detail from parking to transitions to timing to race strategy. Then I hung around for a little while longer listening to other racers ask questions. After a while I glanced back at Wife and decided she had been patient enough. Race day would be okay. Everything would be fine. Right? Right?!

            So I mentioned the bike debacle. Basically, I found myself at the local bike shop on Friday night in posession of two bikes, neither fully functional. This presented a bit of a conundrum, really. Should I ride the road bike that routinely throws its chain or the mountain bike that doesn’t really shift? Or, perhaps, go with option three: buy a new road bike!? After a long conversation, my saint-like Wife gave me the thumbs up to buy the new road bike. This led to our rushing back from Albany on Saturday after picking up my race packet so that I could go to the local bike shop and pick up my new bike. Ed, the long-time owner of Otsego Bicycles in Oneonta, cut me a serious deal and hooked me up with a totally respectable Specialized Secteur leftover from 2015. He gave me an hour tutorial on repair, maintenance, and safety and then sent me out on a test ride. HOLY SMOKES! This is, hands down, the best bike I have ever ridden by at least 300%. It fits well, shifts smoothly, is lightweight and responsive, and is super pretty! I have named her Hildy, and I am completely smitten!

 

Hildy on the day I brought her home!

            I rode Hildy home and felt pretty much ready for the tri. That’s right, I got home with my bike at 4pm the day before the triathlon. While I was super excited about the new bike, this didn’t really help my stress level a whole lot. I set about packing my bag, checking my equipment, and generally getting prepared. Running Buddy and I exchanged a flurry of messages about the logistics of the whole event. We decided that a 5:30am departure would be prudent. I went to bed at 8pm and actually managed to fall asleep. Wife came to bed and was so super quiet that she didn’t wake me up (thanks, Wife!). Unfortunately, at about 2am we had an insane, windows-shaking thunderstorm that woke and kept me up until after 3. The thunder and lightning sent me into a panic that the race would be cancelled or that I would have to ride my brand-new, skinny-tired road bike in the rain. I could not calm down or fall back to sleep. Finally I must have drifted off because my alarm shocked me awake at 4. Ugh!

 

Transition prep--thanks, Wife, for the great pic!

            I ate a big, proper breakfast and had a cup of coffee—this was the whole reason I got up so early. I also packed a cooler with granola bars and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches—my all-time favorite! Everything was damp from the overnight rain but the sky was clearing and the forecast was nothing but sun and warmth! I loaded my bike and then Running Buddy arrived and we loaded hers, too. We hit the road.

            I am glad we left with plenty of time because the parking lot was already filling up when we arrived. We went and set up our bike transitions first. We spent a lot of time arranging and rearranging. I know I went through a mental checklist of what I would need to do during the transition: dry off a bit, change my shirt, clean my feet, put on my socks, tie my sneakers, put on my sunglasses, load up my Gu, don my helmet, and get moving.

The careful preparation wasn’t really helping my nervousness, however. As the minutes ticked by and we started walking over toward the swimming start I could feel myself panicking. I looked out over the lake and could see the course outlined by buoys. I had only swam laps (even when we practiced in open water) so I had never seen the distance in full. It seemed so very far. I could not believe I would have to swim that far. We made a pit stop at the bathrooms and for the first time ever I thought I might throw up from competition nerves. I spent a suspiciously long time in the stall, keeping a line of women waiting outside. I was approaching a meltdown. I finally emerged and we went to grab our chips for timing. I had wondered how these work and they are apparently waterproof and meant to be strapped to your ankle.

Running Buddy tried her best to talk me down but I am not sure how much I heard…I was in full panic mode. The skies were overcast and there was a breeze. I was cold, my stomach felt weird, and all I could do was imagine myself needing to be rescued by one of the 8 YMCA lifeguards lining the swim course. When I was pretty sure I couldn’t take any more the race official gathered us around and explained how the start would work. Each heat would be separated by 4 minutes. I would be in the third heat. Running Buddy was in the sixth. One minute we were chatting with a few other people who were also doing their first tri and the next I had to line up for my heat.

I waded into the water and was pleasantly surprised by its warmth—I had expected to stand in 3 feet of ice cold water while I shivered and waited for the 4 minutes to pass until our horn sounded. I was up to my waist in high weeds, but the warm water compensated a bit. Half of the other women in my heat were also novices doing their first tri. The atmosphere was friendly and joking, but my heart was pounding. Then the countdown and the horn sounded!

I splashed into the water at the back of the pack as planned. But, of course, the adrenaline surged and my competitive instinct took over. I started swimming way too hard. This, combined with my terror of the swim portion of the event, meant I was gasping and having a hard time catching my breath. This caught up with me as I rounded the first buoy and went to pass another competitor. I managed, in my flailing, to inhale a big gulp of water and ended up doggy paddling while choking and spitting out lake water…to the point that a lifeguard and another competitor asked me if I needed help. Not my finest moment and we were only 90 seconds into the race. Thankfully, I had practiced and rehearsed what to do when this (inevitably) happened, so I relaxed, slowed down, did the breast stroke, and caught my breath.

Oddly, this intense bit of panic and minor drowning was exactly what I needed to calm down. Once I composed myself, I remembered my form and took off swimming carefully but steadily. I passed the few close by competitors and worked my way across the lake. I didn’t finish fast, but I did finish squarely in the middle of the pack and I almost caught the last woman from the heat before mine!!!!

I crossed the timing pad from the swim and jogged toward the bike transition area—T1, for those of you in the know. I completely ignored all of those tips I had Googled about counting the number of racks and knowing where your bike is and overshot my row by one. I climbed back under the bike rack so I could access my stuff and started the transition. At first I was really erratic and rushing too much. This time I caught myself without having to drown first, took a deep breath, and slowed down. I swapped shirts, dried off, got my socks and shoes on without trouble, grabbed my glasses, Gu, and helmet, and headed off to the bike mounting area. I felt great! I had made a mental note to be sure to hydrate a lot on the bike and to eat a Gu—in my nervousness before the race I didn’t eat the granola bar in the car I had planned on and I was worried about getting dehydrated during the run because I wasn’t carrying any water.

As I rode I began to pass people one at a time. Slowly but surely I rode down a number of bikers, calling out, “on your left” as I went by. The bike felt great! I was pedaling hard the whole time and shifting pretty well for an amateur. I heard the whir of a bike coming up behind me and started to get a little discouraged—I hate being passed! But it turned out to be a male rider on a very expensive racing bike…I could deal with being passed by a guy who spent $3-5k on his bike! Through the whole 11.5 miles I passed about 20 or so bikers and was only passed by men on fancy road bikes. I felt incredibly pleased with myself as I crossed into the run transition area: T2.

I had practiced the bike to run transition. It is very difficult to get off of a bike and start running. Your legs feel weird and heavy and unwieldy. You sort of feel like you are pounding your legs into the ground but not actually moving anywhere. Anyway, I had practiced this a number of times, but as I went to start running I realized I had never practiced after a really hard bike ride. And boy oh boy, it was making a difference. The run began with a downhill which was compounding the pounding leg problem. Plus, I had ridden 11.5 miles as hard as I could. It was making it very difficult to run properly. On the upside, my aging body usually takes a long time to warm up when I start running—not a problem after coming off of a swim and bike ride—I was fully and completely warmed up!

After my legs started working better and I got into the running groove I realized just how awkward it was that I didn’t have any way to check my pace or keep track of my mileage—I wasn’t carrying a phone and I don’t have a GPS watch. I didn’t feel like I was moving very fast but I was having a hard time when I tried to speed up. I kept running and figured that I would just run as hard as I could and hope that I didn’t bonk. I came around the corner and heard the dulcet sounds of cowbells and saw a big tent set up on the side of the road. There was music blasting, people yelling, and funny signs along the route including: “Smile if you peed during the swim.” Someone had set up a rocking aid station and they were having a blast. As I went by I glanced over and realized I knew the one woman. Then another…all of them, in fact! Apparently, friends of ours from the area live on the race route and had set up an aid station! What a fun boost as I huffed and puffed along!!!

The run portion was an out and back so I knew when I was about half way through. A passing runner was kind enough to share her pace with me so I at least had a sense of how fast I was moving. I figured I was around a 10 minute mile, which is pretty good for me. I mentioned the course started downhill, and since it was an out and back, you know what that means: it finished on an uphill. At the bottom of the last hill I passed Running Buddy heading in the other direction. We hi-fived and whooped and cheered each other on! I came up the hill and spectators were lining the course, cheering me and everyone around me. I had gotten passed by more people than I had passed, but all in all I was feeling pretty good about my effort. I crested the hill, turned the corner, and gave it my all in the final, flat, 100 yards. As I crossed the timing pad I saw that the clock read 1:28:56. I was ELATED! I never in a million years thought I could finish the race in under 1 hour and 30 minutes. I jumped up and down and did a little dance. I chatted with a woman who finished ahead of me. I headed over and grabbed some water. I talked with a family who had done the race as a relay. The mother was super sweet and agreed to take a picture of me and text it to my phone (which was locked in my car 5 miles away):

 

Me, flexing in front of the finish line!

I ambled over to look at the official times—it’s always fun to see your name posted with your finishing time. And to my complete and total astonishment my time was listed as 1:20:56! I had neglected to take into account that I started in the third heat, 8 minutes after the clock was started. I couldn’t believe it. I looked at the sheet again and again. It was AMAZING! It turns out that I averaged about 9:25 per mile in the run, and I finished the bike in 42:08 (including both transitions) which was within few minutes of the best female competitors.

 

Official times! 19/67 women!!!

I grabbed a cereal bar and headed back over to wait for Running Buddy. She came up the hill, killing it the whole way. I ran and met her at the finish line where she jumped under the sprinkler and then gave me a very soggy hug!!!!! She was just as pumped as I was and also finished under her target time!

 

At the car after the race.

The high from finishing the triathlon was pretty intense. We were both exhausted and started to get a little impatient while we waited for the shuttle for 40 minutes—apparently the second shuttle bus had broken down so there was only one ferrying participants back and forth. We finally got back to the starting point, gathered our stuff, and headed out. I had what may have been the most delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich of my entire life in the car on the way home. Arriving home, Wife greeted me in the driveway and gave me a big hug before informing me that I smelled like lake and needed a shower. I agreed wholeheartedly and got cleaned up. Then I decided I needed beer and pizza, because when you have finished a triathlon, you have earned that shit!!!!

Hildy got a couple of stickers after her awesome Tri performance!

As a final note, I wanted to thank everyone for supporting me in my attempt to get on the cover of Runner's World Magazine. I finished with over 1600 votes and was absolutely overwhelmed with the love and support I received. Seriously, you guys are amazing and you humble me. That being said, I did not make the cut for the semifinals. But it is all good. Because knowing how much people care about you is way more important than being on a magazine cover (or getting a bunch of free Brooks running gear).
 

XOXO, DeeDee