I'M NOT SURE why I signed up for this race again. I guess I got so close to my goal of going to Kona (missed the roll down by one spot) that I figured I should try again. So I reloaded my training plan and got started in May.
There were several times this training season that I wanted to quit. I was still suffering from a sore Achilles and I woke up every morning walking around like Frankenstein. In August when the rides really started to ramp up in distance I would wish for a way to get out of this. I joked around with friends that they should take my computer and credit card away from me so I don't do anything stupid this year when registration opens. Honestly, this race did not sell out so there really isn't a need to be first in line to sign up.
Speaking of firsts, when I was in line at the swim start I overheard someone chatting with the announcer. He remarked that this was going to be his last IRONMAN. The announcer replied with a laugh, "You mean your first last." I thought to myself, he's probably right. Somewhere in the future I will get the itch again and find myself paying gobs of money to torture myself. For now, however, I can honestly say that I think my IRONMAN itch has been scratched.
PRE-RACE
One of the main reasons I liked doing this race is because it is incredibly close to home. I have none of the logistical worries which is a big, big plus for me. After Boston, I realized that I am not sure I still wanted to go to Kona. The stress of flying to Boston, ground transportation, hotel, etc. was a bit much for me...and I really only needed to pack my running shoes. I cannot imagine what it would be like having to worry about my bike and all of the gear needed for a long distance triathlon.
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| This was Saturday evening before the race. My Oura ring noted 4 hours of stress so far this day. I can only imagine what it would be like far from home. |
Thursday I drove to the ballpark and walked over to the IRONMAN village. Technically, this is my fourth packet pick-up for this race if you count the inaugural "Bomb Cyclone" race that was canceled. Every year has been a little different, but this year it seemed to be incredibly smooth up until the race bib.
This year, after checking in, getting my timing chip (last year they gave it to you on Saturday when you dropped off your bike), getting my race packet, I then had to go stand in another line that snaked past the backpack station over to a table with three large printers (two were manned).
Note, I was one of the first to arrive. I waited in line for the village to open at noon. So when I went to get in line for my race bib, there were only about 30 people in front of me. By the time I got to the front of the line, the line behind me went out the tent.
Regardless, it was worth the wait. The new system prints your bib for you with your name on it. Actually it prints two so you have one to use and one to frame. The paper they use is pretty rugged and my worn bib is still in great condition. I really missed having a personalized bib. It really gives you a boost to hear people cheering for you by name instead of a number.
I stashed everything into my new IRONMAN backpack which looked similar to last year's backpack in terms of color, but this new one was much more functional. I don't know who designed the bag last year, but I couldn't figure out how to get to the main compartment. When I finally did, it had an IRONMAN towel and flag and a few other things. This year, better bag, but only had the flag inside.
I had vowed not to give IRONMAN anymore of my money, but I did stop in the store and bought a new race belt, a sticker, and two hats. That's it IRONMAN, my wallet is closed!
BIKE DROP OFF
Bike drop off was open from 10am to 4pm. HS wanted to go earlier in the day. but I was shooting for around 2pm. I didn't want to be last minute because that would be too stressful, but I also didn't want my bike sitting out there all day possibly getting shoved around or knocked over.
Case in Point: I found my spot on the bike rack and hooked the nose of my saddle on the bar. I had noticed a woman walking down the other aisle counting the port-a-potties. She stopped across from me and made a mental note of where she was. She then ducked under the bar and knocked a bike off the rack. She picked it up and put it back on the bar and looked at me. I was hoping it was her bike. Nope.
"That's why I won't buy a bi-saddle. See how short the nose is. Makes it easy to fall of the rack."
I just looked at her and my split nose saddle. She is exactly why I didn't want my bike out there too early. I grabbed my bike gear bag and went to the area over by the changing tent. My low number had me positioned on a hook on the fence. Easy to get to, easy to find. Last year there seemed to be more volunteers assisting the athletes. They actually took my bag and positioned it. This year it seemed a little more relaxed or maybe just understaffed.
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| I took a pic of my bike just in case. The bike knocker is in the left corner looking for another bike to knock down no doubt. |
I took a dry-run walk back over to my bike so I could visualize my path on race morning. The bike-knocker was still wandering around my aisle. I wanted to stand at my bike and guard it until she left, but HS was waiting for me outside of transition, so I gave my bike one last glance and hoped that the lady was done bumping bikes.
RACE MORNING
I was up before my 4am alarm. I never sleep well before a big race. I fixed coffee, mixed my instant apple and cinnamon oatmeal and did my bible study. I checked my remaining gear bags one last time and added my drink bottles I had mixed the night before with Maurten 360. One bottle was going to fill up the bladder on my bike and the other one was for my Bike Special Needs bag. I had decided to make a pit stop this year instead of hauling a bottle around for the first 56 miles.
I was racing in the same Pearl iZumi tri-suit I have worn for the last two races. I always toy with the idea of buying something different so my pictures will be special for the race but decide against it. The PI suit is really nice and it fits well...so why mess with success. Plus I am certain I am not going to see my kit on anyone else on the course.
I put my wetsuit on up to my waist before leaving the house. I also slipped on my neoprene booties along with a pair of old Hokas that were going to be left at the swim start. I also stuck a pair of silicone ear plugs inside my suit so I wouldn't forget them in the gear bag. I was ready to go.
The drive to ballpark only takes about 15-20 minutes. It's especially quick at 5am on a Sunday morning. That is, until you get to the exit to the stadium. Traffic was at a standstill on the freeway and the people cutting in at the last minute were not helping the situation. I had plenty of time, so I was trying not to worry about anything other than getting rear-ended. Part of the problem was the traffic light at the bottom of the off-ramp. The other problem was that even if you got through the light, traffic was slow to stopped trying to get into the parking lot. Thankfully, someone opened a second gate and we started to move.
There really was no point in having HS get out of the car this year, so he pulled up to the gate, gave me a kiss and drove off. I dropped off my special needs bag and headed to transition with my "Morring Clothes Bag" (I just had to re-type that because my spell checker changed it). More or should I say "morr" on this later.
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| Apparently IRONMAN doesn't use a spell checkers! |
I topped of the hydration bladder on my bike and gulped the rest that wouldn't fit before heading to the fence just to make sure my bike bag was still there. It was, so I relaxed a bit. After one last check of my bike, I headed to the shuttle area and walked right on to a waiting bus. Maybe it was because I was earlier than in the past or maybe its just better run, I didn't care. I was happy to have a seat.
The buses used a different route this year, or at least it seemed different. Before I knew it, we were at Township 9 Park and I was being dropped off for the second time this morning. I checked my watch and realized I had about an hour before the start of the race. So I took a seat on the walkway, leaned against a railing and waited.
After about 15 minutes, I couldn't stand the inactivity, so I put my wetsuit on the rest of the way and stuffed my jacked and cap into the bag. My last decision was which goggles to wear. I had a pair with lightly tinted blue lenses that would give me better vision in the American River and I also had a pair of mirrored goggles that would make it dark in the beginning but block the glare of the sun in the Sacramento River. I opted for the light blue lenses (mistake).
Last year, I got to the swim start so late that I couldn't even get to my seed time in the corral. I stood at the back of the line and didn't enter the water until 7:40am. This year, I was seeded just wear I wanted and had the opportunity to talk to a couple of ladies as we waited. Eventually, as more men crowded there way up to the front, we got separated, but by that point, I was in my own head and not really wanting to talk. Plus I had put one of my ear plugs in so I couldn't hear well anyways.
SWIM
I'm pretty sure we were in the same starting location as the previous years. However, instead of swimming straight out into the river before hanging a sharp left, we had to swim about 100y yards upstream before fighting our way around a buoy. After making the turn, I sighted the next buoy and put my head down and swam nice and easy. I hate to admit this, but in the back of my mind, I was thinking that if I swam slower than last year then I wouldn't have to worry about getting and not wanting a Kona slot. At that point, I knew my IRONMAN dreams were over.
The one thing about starting in the back, it didn't seem as stressful as this year. Granted, I was passing plenty of people that were a little too optimistic about their swimming abilities, but I was also getting passed (slapped, swam over) by people that maybe underestimated how fast they would be or maybe decided to line up with their friends, who knows.
There were also plenty of people unhappy to swim peacefully down the center of the river. These people apparently needed to be right next to each buoy and would randomly cut in front of me just to angle their way over to the floating pyramids. I found myself stopping several times just to let these people get out of my way. I was in no mind to fight with them over my chosen path.
Like I mentioned earlier, I chose to wear neoprene booties. I don't think the water was any colder than last year, so I'm not sure they were necessary. My face and hands were cold for the first couple of minutes, but other than that, it was fine. However, as I neared the Sacramento River, things started to cool and change.
I read on Facebook that there were some smaller intermediate buoys leading from the yellow buoys on the American River to the big scary red buoy on the Sacramento River. I almost missed the buoy my first year and struggled to get around it. Last year I swam far right of the buoy only to end up next to it due to the current but at least I didn't have to swim upstream. This year I planned on doing the same thing.
There was a large tree or something in the water that the safety volunteers had put a sign on with a large arrow instructing swimming to keep to the right of the tree. Ok, fine, but the intermediate buoys were not that far off my left side. It seemed to be too narrow of a channel for all of the bodies to get through, at least not without making some sort of contact. On top of that, my direction looked like I was headed right at the red buoy. Which is NOT what I wanted. This trajectory would find me on the wrong side of the buoy. I noticed a few swimmers off to my right and I tried to follow them.
The Sacramento River was moving. Even after heading off in a direction upstream of the buoy, by the time I reached the buoy I was up against it along with a bunch of other struggling swimming. My foot caught on the taughtly pulled rope just as a hand reached up and smacked the goggles off my eyes. Thankfully, they just rolled down and didn't come off. Once safely around the buoy I positioned them back on my eyes and tried to gain some composure. I'm not a fan of open water swimming, but this is the first time I have been a little scared during a race.
The rest of the swim was fine. Honestly, I could have floated to the exit and still made the cutoff, but I continued to move my arms and occasionally kicked my feet. Before I knew it, I was at the exit ramp and stumbling my way up to the top.
TRANSITION 1
Nothing of note really. The changing tent was warm and beckoned me to sit and stay a while. I changed into my riding gear, choked down the first of many gels and headed out towards my bike. I can't say I was hustling and my time confirms it:
- Last Year: 9:21
- This Year: 10:43
That 1:22 is more than the difference between 7th and 8th place this year.
BIKE
The bike continues to be my favorite leg of a triathlon. I wasn't sure how ready I was going to be this year even though I followed the same training plan. This year, I put many more miles on the trainer instead of going out on the trail. There seemed to be an absurd amount of squirrels this year and being that squirrels are squirrel-y I was afraid I was going to hit one and go over my handle bars. So I played it safe and stayed mostly inside, not completely ready for 112 miles in an aero position.
Before the start of the race we were told how perfect the conditions were today and that there would be very little wind. WRONG! Granted, the wind was no where near what it was in 2022, but it was noticeable on the second loop but more on that later.
The first several miles are boring and take you through an industrial area of West Sacramento. The roads are ok but smooth out nicely as they take you through a new development area. Unfortunately the course takes you on to Babel Slough (aka Bottle Slough). I rarely try and stay aero in this section. The pavement is rough and shady. Some of the potholes are marked, but not all of them. On top of that, you have to keep an eye out for bike gear on the road, mostly bottles but I did see an occasional bottle cage. I keep my hands on the brakes and stay alert. This segment will rattle your teeth and your nerves.
As I headed out Jefferson, I started to notice a bit of a breeze. Was this the 5 MPH wind we were promised? It didn't slow me down much so I tried to ignore it. However, this is the Delta and I have been on plenty of rides out here where the wind just seems to come out of nowhere and change directions so you always seem to be riding into it. I stayed aero and pedaled. Eventually, I came to the first turn around, 25% done.
At that point my hydration bladder on my bike was empty so I decided to grab some Mortal Hydration at the next aid station. I slowed my bike and reached for the bottle full of orange liquid (mango flavor) and tried to re-fill my bike. Unfortunately, the bottle had an unopened flip cap that kept closing everytime I got it close to my bike. I think I got about half of the fluid in, took a drink from the bottle and tossed it before the last trash line. I could always try again at the next station or wait until the halfway point and my waiting bottle in special needs. Besides that, I was feeling like I needed to pee and I didn't want to make the situation worse.
Last year I peed on my bike. It wasn't as easy to do as you would think and I found myself in more of an endless forced dribble than any kind of relief. I told myself I would stop when I couldn't hold it anymore even if it meant the side of the road. I was prepared to squat and pee through my suit. Why should the men be the only ones that can stop and go when they please?
At the special needs stop, a very young volunteer attempted to open my bag for me. Apparently he wanted to hand me whatever I asked for and I appreciate his desire to be helpful. However, after watching him struggle to undo the string, I took the bag from him, thanked him and pulled out what I needed. I refilled my onboard hydration with the Maurten 360 drink, drank the rest and was back out on the course.
This time, as I headed through the industrial section, I started to notice the wind. What would happen if I just quit now? Who would care? I didn't seem to care anymore. HS might care because he was headed out to Silt Winery to watch the race but we could go back together, have a glass of wine and laugh at the riders as they rattled and shook their way down Babel Slough.
No, I told myself, don't quit. You'll be mad in the morning. Actually, as I sit here writing this the morning after, I don't think I would be mad but then again, this is coming from someone that finished what she started yesterday.
I headed down Babel Slough for the third time this day. My neck was starting to burn so the rough section actually gave me a bit of relief as I sat upright for a good portion of the 3ish miles. I looked for HS and my daughter, but the crowd along the road had grown quite large and my eyes rattle in my head making it difficult to focus. Hopefully if they were out there, they could see me easier than I could see them.
The ride out Jefferson was miserable. The wind was definitely noticeable and my speed slowed considerably. I shifted to an easier gear and reminded myself that it would be better going back. As I rode, the urge to pee grew so I decided to stop at the aid station before the turn-around on the levee. I believe it is somewhere close to the 80 mile point. Anyway, I slowed grabbed a caffeinated Maurten gel and a bottle of water and stopped my bike. I fought the urge to stop my watch and reminded myself that this bathroom break would be part of my official time.
I leaned my bike on a port-a-potty and went to stand in line. Thankfully, the line moved quickly and the large handicapped accessible unit was my designated spot. My plan was to sit and go through my suit. I had no desire to try and wrangle that sweaty skin tight suit on and off just for a pee. It turned out to be one of my best decisions that day.
As I sat taking an absurdly long pee given the amount of intake vs being on the road for over 4 hours, someone tried to open the door. Note, I had locked the door so I know the little red "Occupied" portion was showing but I called out "I'm in here" just to be safe. To my horror I heard "bang", "BANG", "BLAM" the person outside proceeded to get three jolting pulls on the handle before snapping the lock open. There I sat, fully clothed still peeing away. I yelled "I said I was in here" to the irritatingly unfased man starring at me. "But I gotta go really bad" was all he could say before closing the door. I had just met the one man in the world that wouldn't go on the side of the road (and there were plenty out on the course).
There was a half full bottle of water on the floor of the port-a-potty. So I grabbed it and gave myself a quick rinse before exiting. This pit stop had my efforts on this segment at 11.22 miles. Oh well. I felt much better and I only had a few miles before the turn around and a nice tailwind back to transition. I reminded myself that I still had a marathon and went back to entertaining the idea of quitting and going home.
On my final pass through Babel Slough I finally caught site of HS and Ashley. It boosted my spirits but it also made me want to stop and join them. They were having much more fun than I was! I kept pedaling but in my daydream state, I lost focus of the road and hit a couple of very jarring potholes. One was so bad it forced an expletive right out of my mouth that I'm sure the gentleman drafting me heard.
While I am on the topic of drafting, what is it with the men? Every time I became aware of someone right behind me for an extended amount of time, it always turned out to be some dude. I got so irritated with one guy who was close enough to me that our shadows were about 10 feet apart that I attempted to slow down enough to force him around me. No sooner than I heard my cassette spinning did I hear his start to spin too. So he was going to just sit back and do whatever I did? Not on my watch. I sat upright and slowed even further. I also gave a head turn to look for him before he reluctantly passed me.
My speed picked up again and I really think the caffeinated gel gave me a boost. I counted down the miles as I neared transition. As I got closer, I started to see the runners. This was a new part of the course and apparently I had misread the map. I thought we were running on the other side of the river like we did in 2022. Nope. We were running on the west side through the industrial area. Ugh.
TRANSITION 2
Not exactly a masterclass in speed but it was a bit faster than last year. Although last year included a potty break.
- Last Year: 7:24
- This Year: 6:53
As I sat on the ground putting on my running gear and hating my life decisions, I talked briefly with a guy on the opposite side of the rack. He was struggling too, maybe more than me, as he announced to me that he might fart because it will help him feel better. Nothing like a stranger telling you he's going to let one loose to get you moving. I wished him luck and got out of there as quickly as I could.
RUN
Once again, the run course changed. All three years I have done this race, the run has been just a little bit different. I think this year's course was the worst of the bunch.
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| My least favorite run course |
The course headed out past Drake's, but instead of turning around, we kept going, under Highway 50 and eventually out on to South River Road were we were running alongside the cyclists coming back in off of their second loop. It is an industrial area so there is not much to look at and definitely no shade. I was miserable and considered quitting with another 24ish miles ahead of me.
I sucked it up and kept going and followed the road up and over the bridge before taking a left to continue on S River Rd. At about mile 3, the course veered off onto a gravel access road at the base of the levee. There was one short section of shade, but that was it. The turn around was just past mile 4. I was not looking forward to the run back. Thankfully, it did not seem as long as it did outbound and before I knew it, I had run/walked my way back past Drakes and under the Tower Bridge.
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| One of many slow miles |
This part of the course was basically dirt and there was a volunteer stationed under the bridge. I guess to keep us going in the right direction. The course continued north (out and back) along the River Walk Trail. It then crossed over the Tower Bridge and another out and back section on the opposite side of the river. Where the course in previous years took us over the Jiboom Bridge and into Discovery Park, this year we turned before it.
The course headed back towards transition and the start of the second loop. Thankfully, we did have to run through the industrial section we did earlier. The second loop basically retraced the two out and back sections before heading through Old Sacramento and then downtown. Once I crossed over Interstate 5 into downtown, I told myself that I wasn't going to walk until I finished. I think this may have been the highlight of my race.
It was probably less than a mile at that point, but those last ten minutes were tough. But I didn't walk.
POST RACE
It took a minute to write this report. In fact, I let it sit unfinished until the end of March 2026. Maybe I didn't know what to say. Maybe I thought I would sign up again. As of today. I haven't signed up and I don't feel the draw. Of course, as race day gets closer and the social media posts grow more frequent, I'm sure I'll feel the pain of missing out.
There's always 2027 ;-)
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