Race Report – The Wildflower Fantastic Four

I am sooo sunburnt, I have the Evan Borders style whale tail sunburn and my shoulders are on fire. How did I get this way? It all started long ago, on Friday (April 29)….

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The husbeast and I packed up a whole bunch of crap & the Little Miss and traipsed down to Lake San Antonio for the Wildflower Triathlons.

I was set for the Olympic Distance race, on Sunday, which meant that we had plenty of time to get the lay of the land. Friday we settled in. Sam from OTC had laid claim to a goodly camping area that was very close to a bathroom. We checked out the festival/finish line area, watched the pro interviews (yay, Bob Babbit!), got the last beer served of the night, and generally tried to chill out. Pip had trouble settling down in the RV (did I mention my dad bought an RV? It’s an ok thing. I appreciated the bed, for sure). It wasn’t the best night of sleep ever, but it was alright.

Saturday was more chilling.  When I camp, I tend to go to bed around sunset and get up with the sun so I was up early. Burned pancakes on Paula’s super hot propane camp stove (still delicious), drank not too much coffee, and went to watch the Long Course race finish.

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Race Family Robinson

 

Now, I know this is not common, but I am a fan of triathlon. I know the pros, I follow some of them, I play fantasy triathlon and generally get super duper excited about the people who do this for a living.

Jesse Thomas won his sixth Wildflower Long Course in a row. Crazy sauce considering he broke his foot doing number three, couldn’t race for like, a year, came back just in time to win number four. It really is the Jesse Thomas Invitational.  Terenzo Bozzone, the course record holder came in second, making it exciting.

 

Liz Lyles repeated her win on the women’s side, Laurel Wassner came in second (at the wonderful age of 41),  and SF Bay Area local favorite Emily Cocks came in third.

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Liz Lyles repeated as champion, and completely blanked me on the high five.

I got some high fives and some videos and went back up to camp to chill. It was not chill.  I got race tires, thinner and slicker than my commute tires and wanted to put them on my wheels before I checked my bike in, Saturday night. I could not get my old tires off, or my new tires on, to save my damn life.

I do not react well to stress.  I was feeling time pressure, there being only two and a half hours left to get my bike checked in (which I could also do in the morning, so this was an overreaction). I was snappy. I broke somewhere between three and five tire levers getting the new tires on. ARGH!!!  Evan came to the rescue with both tire levers sacrificed and advice well given.  The new tires were applied and my stress level returned to manageable levels.

I was very afraid of riding down Lynch Hill. I’m still building my descending skills on the bike.  I grabbed my transition bag and rode down to familiarize myself with the hill.  And it was really not bad at all, especially compared to coming down Snake. The Bay Area really is one of the best places in the world to train.  Apart from having altitude to sleep in and extreme weather, we have such a variety of terrain that you can train for anything.

Fears assuaged, I set up my T2 and racked my back.  There was a guy there who was helping someone else set up. He opined that every single other person who had set up and racked their bike and set up their transition wrong. Every, single, other person had done it wrong and he knew the right way. Whew! I needed that little laugh. Got my stuff set up safely under my back tire and caught the shuttle back to the campsite.

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My dad and Jon collaborated to get the shower in the RV working so I got my own, private, very, very, very hot shower (oh god, I really nearly burned myself severely) before bed. There was a moment when we figure out that the switch to turn the water pump wan’t on, we flipped it and I heard water running. It was the bathroom sink, where all my race morning gear was, getting water poured on it. As my dad looked chagrined I yelled out “You’re lucky I’m a triathlete and it’s all designed to get wet!”

Chaos over. Actually got the little lady off to sleep in a reasonable amount of time, set my alarm for 5 AM and got perhaps my best night before the race sleep ever.

I got up to use the bathroom around 1:30 AM.  As I walked out, I could see, even without my glasses, the amazing number of stars in the sky.  I’m a city girl, so big constellations are all I’m used to. As I stared up I saw a shooting star.  I took it as a good sign. Right before I got back to sleep a coyote started howling close by.  It was very cool, especially given I wasn’t in a tent and I was very sure it couldn’t get at me.

 Let’s get to race day!

I set some reasonable goals and I meant to stick to them.

Up on time  (Pro Tip – start your day with success).

Eat the food, put on the clothes, forget to put on sunblock and burn massively later. Check, Check, Check. Hang out and chat with the Club, watch the Sprint racers leave hours before me.

I got on the shuttle with Erin and Sarah, two mighty athletes who took top spots in our age group. I chatted with a lovely woman name Juliette on the bus as we drove to Harris. Then we waited for the porta potties for an hour. No joke, no exaggeration. But there was nothing else to do.  It turned out that four of the eight porta johns had the indicator stuck on red and were empty. One racer in an orange vest was a hero and went through the whole bank of them knocking and getting them back in rotation.  She was a hero of our tribe.

National Anthem, Sprint Race Start!! I walked down to my T1A spot. The sprint racers were all at the top of the boat ramp, which is reallllllllly steep and scored concrete – fun for running in bare feet! The Olympic distance racers were down by the water and your truly was less than fifty feet from the swim exit. Score!!

I set up my shoes and hat and saw a bunch of OTCers come out of the water, including Lydia.  I screamed at her and slapped her on the wetsuit clad butt. Because that’s what you do when you want to encourage someone to do their best. I went back up the ramp for one more bathroom visit. Going up and down the ramp was a pretty good warm up!  I got body marking and then went down to get my wetsuit on. It was very warm in the sun, clad in black rubber.  My zipper stuck but Dio Ann’s boyfriend Eric was there and got me zipped up in time. Go Team!

Swim  – I hadn’t done any open water in six months, so I knew that was going to be dicey. We got a couple of minutes to warm up, I did a few strokes of butterfly and then got ready to go. It was rough. I had a lot of panic and my goggles fogged very badly.  I don’t have prescription goggles so I was flying blind for a lot of the swim.  There wasn’t too much contact, I was afraid of it though. I did a lot better with sighting on the way back from the turn. There was some boat wake that had me feeling seasick which I solved by sighting every stroke – first time for everything.  I was super happy to be done, it was a slow swim and my heart was screaming at me as I came out of the water.

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I do not feel particularly well at this point in the race.

Evidence of my improving sighting skills. 

Swim Time – 42:49 2:36/100 yd  That’s actually a solid time for me. And here’s a challenge of racing in a later wave. You’re going faster than a lot of people but since they left somewhere between five and forty minutes before you, you’ll never see them, you won’t pass them in the back half of the run and get that little bump. You race on your own and find out who you beat later.

T1A felt slow.  I hadn’t lubed up my forearms or forelegs and my suit wouldn’t slide off.  The angle of teh ramp was steep and I had to sit down to get the suit off.  I never sit down in transition. I felt like I was flailing and failing and generally the slowest T1A of everyone.  My transitions are my pride and joy and there I was, royally screwing up. The results say that yes, my transition was 4:58. It was also the third fastest in my age group and 204 fastest overall. Imagine how well I can do if I practice this!

T1A Run -26:03 (11:45/mi) this is the bit that people are wary of. You run 2.2 miles from the water to your bike. HTFU people. You’re a triathlete and somehow you don’t want to run? I didn’t mind when I signed up and I actually really liked it. I did have to duck into some bushes and risk a penalty. I also surprised Sam as he came around a corner to find me peeing. that’s what stories are made of! I kept to my overall Zone 3 heart rate target and chugged from Harris to Lynch.  I was very glad I had my hat for the first run. The sun was out and there was no cover at all. There were college kids (have I mentioned the amazing volunteers from Cal Poly SLO? These kids brought so much energy all damn weekend. Rock Stars) out cheering.  As I ran by a couple I shouted that I wanted Darth Vader’s theme from Star Wars.  They were confused for a second and then started belting out “Daa Daa Daa, du de daa, du de daaa!” with gusto.

 

Easy Peasy

 

Bike – 2:03:47 12.05 mph

I am very content with this time for the bike. I set in Zone 3 on the heart rate and had no heads up speedometer.  I think that might have frustrated me, so it’s a good thing.  The bonus of running for 26 minutes is that, unlike the Long Course where you get on the bike and have a mile or so to settle in before you hit a big ass hill, the Olympic gives you a couple of hundred yards before you’re chugging up Lynch at 13%. I climb much better on warm legs.  I transitioned and ran out on my bike shoes.  I realized as I went to mount that my bike was in too high a gear and I couldn’t get in on the tiny incline at the mount line. I sucked it up and managed to get in and not fall down, so, yay for me! (Spoiler, I didn’t fall all day!).

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I knew my family were waiting for me at the top of Lynch. I sat in and kept it going easy.  I joked with the people who passed me.  I saw the guy from Every Man Jack walking his bike down the hill.  He needed a tube.  He would pass me at about mile 14 on the bike in full #beastmode. I got to the top and there was my dad, my husbeast and my little falcon. I waved to them and rode on.

I overhydrated.  I was drinking to time and not thirst and I ended up using the bathroom twice during the bike.  Not _on_ the bike (for an Oly, no no no). I stopped at the aid station that was halfway on the out and back section.  As I popped out to leave I said “When I come back I want you to play the Imperial March from Star Wars for me!”

I was rolling along, trusting my training, keeping the effort even. Feeling pretty much totally amazing. There were a couple of riders I was in touch with the whole ride. A few from earlier waves that I passed. More super fun volunteers, and I came back to the midway aid station, to once again use the porta pottie. As I pulled in I heard “She’s back!” “Wait, wait, play it while she rides off!” “What’s your name?”

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Say my name!!!

These glorious kids had gotten the Imperial March on MP3 and as I rode off the blasted it out of the speakers while they yelled “Rachel!Rachel! Rachel!” So, that was pretty awesome.

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Yes, I do this on the bike. Yes, I am a huge dork. One time Mark Allen threw me a shaka and I will do this forever and ever.

I was getting tired as the bike wound down. My shorts are only good for up to an Oly and I was feeling it, especially as the hills had my sitting and grinding it out a lot of the time. I passed the fam again at the top of Lynch and safely and happily descended to T2.

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They are on the left, under the tree, cheering wildly.

T2 1:38 – Faster than five pros from the day before. Enough said.

Run – 1:22:07 (this includes the T1A run time)

I went off feeling the hills in my legs. Frankly, I went off feeling like ass. It was hot. But my heart rate was on point and there was less than an hour to go. The first mile was wonderfully shaded and a bit rolling – just right to get the legs into gear. Within that mile I passed a women I had been chasing for the whole bike. Every time I passed the college kids cheering or watering, I would yell pop music lyrics at them, this got a good response. “Shine bright like a diamond” is my standard (lifted from watching The Ginger Runner’s videos – thank you amazing ultra running dude).

I took my own handheld with water – if you do this race, do this.  It is really hot and the aid stations are plentiful but being able to drink whenever I wanted was a plus. Beach Hill was not a plus. I walked it, once again with the heart rate. A woman passed me running – #lifegoals – and another woman was just in front of me the whole climb. I stayed on it. For long efforts, I put my head down and think “it takes as long as it takes.”

We crested the hill and I passed the racer I had been chasing a couple hundred yards later – her taped up knee wasn’t doing well with the downhill. Then there was a dusty, sunny mile from the top of Beach to the top of Lynch. I couldn’t hold my heart rate up anymore. I couldn’t run. I saw racers in front of me trudging and looking done and I would run again just so I didn’t look that defeated. I took a moment to feel that it was really hard and that I was 100% alive. I came into the last water stop next to one of those walkers. I shouted ahead “One water in my hand, two on my head” it got a lackluster response and there were ten kids sitting in the shade so I shouted out “Hey, what does a woman need to do to get some head around here?!”  Well, yelling that got me about ten cups of water on my head and the admiration of the racer behind me as he said “That was awesome!”

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I was walking before and after this photo was taken.

Then it was down Lynch Hill. Thank godtopus. I finish most of my runs at home with a mile downhill so there were no issues with letting myself get down the hill with a quick easy cadence. It’s quite nice, to finish down that hill.  Lots of time to let the suffering go and really begin to let the achievement start to soak in. Right at the bottom is the finish chute which I had all to myself. Even though there weren’t many people cheering, it felt like a lot.  I gave lots of high fives and the photographer managed to catch this one.

The only one that matters
The only one that matters

 

As I came down the chute, the kick I didn’t think I had came and I was cruising along.  I heard that Julie Moss was one of the commentators and I thought “Wow, I want to get a pic with her!” Then I heard her call out “Rachel Tibbetts, Golden Gate Tri Club!”

Umm – I signaled that that was incorrect and she said “Oakland Tri Club!” as I came home. More wonderful volunteers draped me in a cold towel (I could feel my skin cooking, the burn was going to be bad), got my timing chip off and there was Rich, my Club president to give me my medal.

“How was it?” he asked.

“Brutal. Legendary. Amazing” I answered.

done

Then Julie shouted down from the booth that they wanted to give me something for getting my club wrong. I pointed to her and said “I want a picture with you, because you’re a legend.” Two minutes later…

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Yep, that’s me and Julie Moss!!!

 

In the documentary about the Barkley Marathons (which you should watch right after you finish reading this), Lazarus Lake says there is no true achievement without the real possibility of failure. That made Wildflower mean something. If you’re going to avoid this race don’t avoid murky water, or a non-standard format, avoid it because there is nowhere to hide. If you haven’t trained, if you aren’t committed, Wildflower will kick the ever loving shit out of you. It’ll do that if you are prepared, it just won’t suck as much.

 

If you haven’t been to Wildflower here are a couple of pieces of info/advice

-Go to Wildflower – organized, well supported, well marked, amazing energy. The course is really hard and out of the ordinary, step up to the challenge, you will not be sorry.

-Sunblock, hats, water.

-Yep, the hill is big. Learn the shuttle schedule and leave plenty of time to get things done.

-Leather shoes or boots. The foxtails get into everything.

-Don’t leave Evan or Sam in charge of the campfire.

A+ absolutely would race again.

-fh

P.S. Evan and Dio-Ann – you’ll get your new tire levers the next time I see you, thanks again!

P.P.S. Yes, this hurt, but every time it hurt I smiled because it was very much worth it.

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The End

 

Hot Damn! – Monte Rio Race Report

(For the short version, scroll down )

Yesterday (holy crap, it seems like a week ago) I raced the Monte Rio Sprint Triathlon. It was my first triathlon in three years. I had a lot of anxiety going in to this race.  I hadn’t practiced open water during my hiatus. I hadn’t specifically practiced transitions that much – changing from swim to run and run to bike can be really hard to do quickly. I had done a couple of races in the last year but they were runs, so they had significantly easier logistics.

A lot more complicated than one pair of shoes and some sunblock.
Packing for a tri – A lot more complicated than one pair of shoes and some sunblock.

My anxiety was not helped by the total upheaval of my travel plans on Wednesday night. Instead of focusing on my race and visualizing my transitions, I was completely upset and distracted. Every time I tried to lie quietly and think though the race my mind wandered and catastrophized – I even imagined a fist fight in transition. I was in rough shape. I told Mr. Fyre several times on Saturday that it was the worst race anxiety I’ve ever had. Only knowing that it was nerves (yay, years of racing experience!) kept me at all in the game. I was shaky, tired, nauseous and generally  freaked out. I had planned to do a short swim in the river on Saturday to get at least some open water in before my race – no go. I had planned to do a short bike and run to shake out my legs – no go. I had planned to drive the bike and run courses and scout the swim entrance and exit – actually did it! One out of three – I’m a winner! At that point my race goal had come down to – just get to the start.

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The picture of success!

Team Fyre adapted and overcame and found a last minute hotel room that was pricey but ended up being really nice (The Woods Resort in Guerneville – really nice people, good rooms, good coffee). The only downside to the hotel were the people in the next room.  I don’t begrudge a person a shower at midnight after a long drive. I do begrudge them shouting over the sound of the water to their friends so loudly that it wakes me up in the middle of the night before my race, when I was actually sleeping the night before the race (this never happens and I still got the best rest I’ve ever had on the night before). Mr. Fyre, my absolute hero of the whole week, nearly took the wall out banging on it. Desired effect achieved, sleep resumed. Little Miss Fyre even obliged us with an early bedtime and nine hours of solid sleep in a strange bed.

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Oh no worries, I”ve just been working towards this goal for my child’s entire life…

Sunday morning came and I rolled over to check the clock at 4:29 AM. I caught the alarm before it went off and popped into the bathroom to eat my breakfast and get dressed without waking anyone up. Lots of self talk and posturing into the mirror followed. I got my food down and got ready. The theme of race day was that the technical skills of triathlon – timing your eating, transition set up and execution, swim sighting – stay with you regardless of fitness. Race morning felt like race morning – not some new and strange experience. I knew that eating the banana was a good idea, even though I felt nauseous looking at it.

Hitting my schedule on race morning is key to my confidence, so I felt great when we walked out of the hotel room at 6 AM. I felt even better when we got to the parking lot. There was a line for timing chips and then a shuttle ride. There were a lot of people nervously glancing at watches and putting on their wetsuits as they watched wave start times tick by. I was in the last wave and I was going to have time, not a luxurious amount of time, but enough to get set up with any craziness.

Not quite this relaxed
Not quite this relaxed

On Saturday I had run into a couple of Swim Bike Moms and I saw one of them again on the beach, walking to the start. The day before the two women had encouraged me and on this day Suzanne ( I think, I’m so terrible with names) gave me a huge hug and then zipped up my wetsuit. That’s triathlon. I zipped up two other people, I chatted with a first timer on the shuttle and all the people around me in the line. We were all there together, really together. I can’t even say how much it meant to me  to see those women I had never met and how much they helped me when I was cracking open. SBM Army – for real.

Down the beach – the very rocky beach – to the water. There was a walk (it is shallow as anything and I highly recommend this race to anyone with water anxiety – you can stand up just about any time) to the swim start line. Everyone around me was slogging through waist deep water – Smarty McFyrepants here got a swim warm up! At least ten minutes of swimming, getting loose and relaxed, getting my heart rate up and back down. I even threw down some butterfly to show the competition I meant business. We were the last wave, all the Olympic waves and the Sprint men were already off. Waiting at the line, when the announcer said “Thirty seconds” I yelled “Chase ’em all down!” Then it was go time and things got new.

In every previous triathlon I have lined up at the absolute back of the swim. I’ve walked down to the water and started slowly. That was when I trained three times a week. One swim, one track session and a weekend ride or run. That will get you to the finish of a triathlon. But I have been training five to six days a week, up to eight hours a week. I started base training in November, I did weights, I’ve been doing yoga for strength and to gain hip flexibility. I have used The Sufferfest Novice Triathlon plan and I am a new damn woman. My last hard swim workout was doing 100 yards hard, not quite as fast as possible, but hard and steady. And doing it fourteen times in a row. I had not worked that hard and sweat that much to sit back and take it easy.

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My number one race goal was not a time. It was to race hard the whole way. To RACE.

I passed half the women’s field in the first 200 yards. I swam over bodies, arms and legs clashing. I went, I deferred to no one. That pace, drilled into me over twelve weeks, those hard hundreds were in my arms and my mind. No pausing, no worrying, just going hard until two orange buoys, then turning and heading straight for the swim exit. It was amazing. I felt strong and fast and confident. I didn’t even kick. We ran out of depth fifty yards before the  exit and walked over the rocky bottom to the exit. I ran as soon as I could and there was Team Fyre. A kiss to the Little Miss and then I ran up the (very thoughtfully laid out) carpet to transition.

As I ran I was wheezing, my heart rate was way high and all I could think was theme two of the weekend “I didn’t come here to take it easy.” I had a bit of trouble getting the suit off but then it was glasses, helmet, race belt, shoes, and off to the bike.

Once again, my heart was pounding, my breath was wheezing and I did not slow down. I knew my body would settle in without coddling. I went for it, again, still. Training had told me I could hold 18 mph, so I pegged it there and stayed low. The hardest moment of the race was a curvy downhill on patched road. I lost my bottle. I know that I need to build bike handling skills and confidence in taking turns at speed. I did the best that I had on the day. Twice I straight out attacked. There were riders on the course who did not have great handling skills and did not know the rules on drafting (like, don’t do it!) or road position. Two of them I purposefully put in a big effort to pass and leave behind. As I passed one I thought “This is Fight Club!” The bike training  I had done had prepared me for exactly the effort I needed.

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No, the other one.

Then the bike was finished (Hi Monica!). My legs had started to hurt but I knew I had a good run that was waiting to be called for. Then the ratchet strip on my bike shoe got stuck and I couldn’t take my bloody shoe off. I yanked and yanked and it gave (first post race gear purchase will be new shoes). I raced out of T2. Wave and a smile to Team Fyre and into the pain cave.

Nothing grows in the comfort zone. I did not come here to take it easy. I didn’t feel fast. My legs never “woke up.” I got a rhythm. It wasn’t my usual rhythm when I feel happy and light and strong. It was there though and I grabbed it. I tried to keep a smile on my face and started crying. There had been no panic attack on my swim, there had been no ease on my bike, this was new ground. I counted the women who passed me and tried to see if they had sprint bibs. Two. Two women passed me on the whole run. I got to the turn around and saw the strangest thing; they were all behind me. I have never seen that many people behind me at a race, ever.

I kept going, one steady pace the whole way. I had planned a kick and had memorized landmarks for 800, 600, 400, and 200 meters. I was able to give it a bit more at 600 but I was already running so hard there was nothing else to do but keep going. A wave to Coach Raeleigh (props for recognizing me without OTC kit!) and Prez. Chris and I threw myself down the home stretch. Then, the insult to injury. The last thirty yards are straight up hill. No valiant finishing sprint but an uphill shuffle. Team Fyre was on the left, shouting for me and then I managed to kick in the last ten yards.

Arms up over the line! Then nearly falling over, heaving, as I got a medal put on and chip taken off. Done. I had gone as hard as I could, as long as I could. Mission Accomplished.

FIST BUMP!
FIST BUMP!

SHORT VERSION!

5th!!! I have never finished out of the bottom 25% of a race before (not an exaggeration) and I came 5 out of 24 for my age group.

Event review: These people know how to put on a race. The event was extremely well run, absolutely would race again. Great value, great venue.

I had planned a good, better, best set of goal times for this race. I also had a super secret awesome stretch goal. I beat that goal. The one that was outlandish, the fantasy. My training numbers told me I could do it. The body would be willing, I had to have the fortitude to go there.

Swim – 14:21 1:55/100M

My fantasy swim time was 15:00. I beat a number I didn’t think I could make by 39 seconds. I am still absolutely ecstatic over this. Imagine how fast I would be if I kicked! (Out of 199 racers – men included, only 60 were faster than I was. I learned to swim six years ago this month.)

T1 – 4:31

Seems long until I tell you it was the second fastest in my age group and out of 199 total racers, it was faster than all but 34 of them.

Bike – 44:15 16.8 mph average

Not quite as fast as my fantasy number of 18 mph, but better than 114 others on the day.

T2 – 1:35

Once again, faster than all but 37 other racers, including the jammed bike shoe.

Run – 30:22 9:48/mile

This is the fastest I have ever run a race – even one that wasn’t a triathlon. I held off the next women in my age group by 20 seconds.

Total – 1:35:03

Good for

-5/24 in my age group

-32/122 women

-85/199 overall.

My best race ever. It hurt and it was amazing. I could not do it without Mr. Fyre, he is my hero. I could not do it without me, I am my hero.

-fh

Race Report – but not what you might expect

So I raced! “We know, you did a half marathon!” Yes, but I’m not gonna talk about that race, I’m gonna tell y’all about the 5k Turkey Trot at my job last week.

Gladys was a shoe in for first place in the costume division

The level of organization at the work gym meant that I had about 5 days notice about this race. I haven’t been running much lately because I’ve added swimming, biking, and strength training into the mix. I’m working out a lot but I’m not running that much.  I do have a lot of residual fitness from my half marathon training but that was a long slow race and 5ks are short and sharp.

I showed up on the day trying to talk myself out of running as fast as I could. That did not work.  I warmed up a bit (not as much as if this was a goal race) and lined up with the 25 other runners and walkers. Ok, we didn’t line up, we milled about until the gym lady said “go!” Then most of us went out way too fast.

It was EXACTLY like this

I have this thing, a feeling, that because I am not a very fast runner (yet!) I’m not really allowed to be competitive. Well, yeah, fuck that. In this tiny little, non-timed, non-certified race I had a really good chance to win the women’s division and I went for it. I knew from my tempo runs that I could keep at about 10 min/mile for 30 minutes. I aimed for that level of effort. I was on the vomit line for a lot of the race e.g. if I went any faster I would. Half a mile before the finish two women passed me. I had seen them closing at the turnaround and I tried to pick it up but they got that “horses coming to the barn” energy and I’d been redlining it from the start. I made up some time when they had to stop for a red light (yay podunk races!) but I couldn’t keep with them.

I got third though! I made the overall women’s podium! Even better, I averaged 9:54/mile, which is really good for me. That I did that on no race specific training when I’m beating my body up with a whole lot of other stuff is even better.

Woo Hoo! Bronze, baby!

The moral of the blog post is that even if I’m not “fast” it’s ok for me to be competitive. I don’t have to caveat my racing with “Well, I call it ‘eventing’ because I’m not going to win anything.” I am allowed to go for it as hard as I can and to race other people and want to beat them.

-fh