I had one pressing reason for wanting to do the July 10,
2021 Tri for Fun Super Sprint Triathlon. I wanted to see if I could still race.
As Hot Stuff and I drove out to Rancho Seco Park, I sat silently in the passenger seat
considering my fate as well as taking a few mental notes about the drive for my
book. Eventually he broke the silence by telling me “It’s going to be OK”. Obviously
sensing my distress and doubt.
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Cooling towers in the race logo |
“I know” was the only thing I could say. I didn’t want to
tell him about my worry over the swim, or how uncomfortable I felt in my tri suit. I
didn’t want to tell him that I was afraid of being significantly slower than past races. I had stayed off the scale for the last two days knowing
that another increase in my weight would only put me into a mental tailspin.
“It’s going to be over before you know it” was his response.
He was right. Since it was a super sprint, I would more than
likely finish in about half an hour. His response made me sad though. Here I
was, after competing in triathlons for over 8 years and loving almost every
minute of it, dreading a race.
Flashback to My Last Triathlon Season
In 2019 I signed up to do all three of TBF Racing's Tri for Fun Super Sprint triathlons at Rancho Seco Park. I completed the first race at the top of the podium with a time of :27:04.6. I was surrounded by my FREAKSHOW RED teammates and thoroughly enjoyed the racing and camaraderie.
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Good times in 2019 with my FREAKSHOW RED teammates |
I was on my own for the most part at the second race since several members were doing the Death Ride. I have a strict policy about doing any races with the word "Death" in the title.
Unfortunately, at this second race in the series, I got a flat tire on my bike. I must have picked up something on my short warmup ride. I didn't realize the tire was flat until I finished the swim and made my way back to transition. When I went to change the tube I found that I packed a tube with a short stem and not one that would work with
my 50mm wheels. I packed up my stuff and went home. My very first DNF. I chalked
it up to a learning experience.
There was still the third race in August. At this third and final race, I finished second in my age group with a time of :27:28.7. I had no idea that this would be my last tri for a long while.
After that, I switched gears to marathon training but ended
up pulling out of the 2019 CIM due to a nagging knee injury. There would be
more races I told myself. It was the first time that I pulled out of a race due to an injury. I turned my focus to the 2020 IRONMAN Santa Rosa 70.3 in May and
started training.
And then COVID hit.
I kept training and hoping that the race would proceed. It
was going to be a comeback race. A makeup for my less-than-optimal performance
at the first IRONMAN Santa Rosa 70.3 in 2017. It was also going to be my first race out
on the road after the hit-and-run.
The race was postponed and then eventually cancelled. I
signed up for a virtual “Iron” challenge put on by TBF Racing that summer and
then in August started training for the 2020 CIM. As the weeks went by and the training
miles increased, I would check for race updates daily. Sometime in late September
it was announced that the December marathon was canceled. I signed up for a virtual “marathon” event
that would at least keep me somewhat focused but eventually I dropped down to
the half marathon option. Virtual competition just wasn’t the same.
Prior to CIM being officially canceled, I had contacted IRONMAN
and asked if I could use my Santa Rosa 70.3 entry fee to sign up for the 2021 IRONMAN
California. This race had always been part of my original "comeback” plan. Do the
2020 Santa Rosa 70.3 to get back into distance racing and judge how I was
going to handle racing on the road. If all went well, I would then sign up for
the 2021 inaugural IRONMAN California.
Once the 2020 IRONMAN Santa Rosa 70.3 was canceled I was given
a few race options that I could roll my entry to, but none of the races offered
appealed to me either because they included an ocean swim or hundreds of miles
of travel. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask about IMCA. After I submitted my request,
I received a response saying that I could roll my entry to IMCA as long as I paid
the difference. I was in!
During the months between the cancellation of CIM and the
start of training for IRONMAN California, I languished at home. The depression
of COVID was real and on top of that, I was battling the unfair and often cruel
effects of menopause. Insomnia, brain fog, lack of energy, and weight gain. Seemingly uncontrollable weight gain.
Weight Gain
As someone that has always struggled with my weight, menopause
weight gain is going to drive me completely insane. No matter what I did or do, the
scale still seems to creep upwards. At first, I blamed it on COVID and being stuck
at home with nothing to do but bake bread and drink wine. However, when I went back to
diets and nutrition plans that had always worked in the past, I found, to my horror, that nothing seemed to work.
I tried intermittent
fasting…weight went up. I tried keto…weight went up. I gave up wine for Lent…weight went up. I started my IRONMAN
training…weight still went up!!! OMG! Friends would try and tell me that I was
just gaining muscle. Uh…no. There is no way that I’ve gained that much muscle. Not
20+ pounds of muscle.
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I want to look like this again...appx 145 lbs |
Yes, I just said twenty+ pounds. That is the difference between
my desired race weight (above) for IRONMAN California and my current weight (as of Monday, July 12). On Saturday morning, when I put on
my FREAKSHOW RED triathlon kit, I felt like a stuffed sausage. I mean the kits
are always snug, but not uncomfortably so like it was race morning. I wanted to
fake an injury and stay home.
The only thing that got me in the truck was
knowing that I was signed up to do a full IRONMAN in about 3 months. If I fell
apart before a super sprint, I would not be mentally ready for the big race. I
needed to do this.
Back to Race Day
So, back to race day morning. I still got that queasy
feeling as soon as the cooling towers came into sight. I don’t think that will ever
change. We drove into the familiar park and I was amazed at all of the solar
panels. So much had changed since the last time I was there. We pulled up to a
long line of cars at the entrance kiosk and HS started fussing about how long
it was taking. Another thing that will probably never change.
We parked the truck and took out my road bike and triathlon
bag. I made sure to pack the correct tubes this time so I already felt like a winner.
I checked in at registration and was handed my yellow swim
cap and race numbers. The lady asked if I had raced there before and I said “Yes”.
She smiled and said “Then you know what to do with all of this.”
I eagerly agreed and turned to go set up my transition area.
I looked at the race bib, wetsuit tag and helmet sticker in my hand and briefly
panicked about what to do with them. I felt like a fraud. I took a deep breath and reminded myself what everything was and were it went.
I set up my transition area just like I always did. My hot
pink towel tucked just below my rear wheel. Since I brought my road bike
instead of my triathlon bike, I hung my helmet off of the handle bars instead
of balanced on the aerobars but other than that my setup was the same. My nerves
were still wound tight and there was over half an hour until the race started. I
asked HS if he wanted to go for a walk.
We ended up walking the entire one mile run course. He told
me it was OK if I wanted to run part of the course to warm up and I said
walking was fine. I also opted not to do a warmup ride on my bike. I didn't want to risk getting another flat.
My BBF’s daughter was going to be racing in the Sprint race
that morning, so I kept an eye out for some familiar faces, hoping to say “Hi” before my race
started. I finally spied them over by check-in and went over. HS joined us before
I had to go get in the water. I had to make some some attempt at a swim warm up
(Coach James always in my head) even if it meant just getting my face wet and
blowing some bubbles.
Swim
Since COVID and the permanent closure of the gym pool as
well as the loss of use of the high school pool by the tri club, my swimming
had amounted to 4-5 times in the past two weeks using my new swim tether. I
entered the lake and was quite pleased with the temperature. The recent heat
wave had the water at an ideal temp for a quick (hopefully) 200y swim. A mere 4,000
yards less than my upcoming IRONMAN swim.
I swam around briefly and went to stand with the other
yellow caps. When instructed to line up at the start, I ducked under the buoy
rope that separated the kid's beach swim area and the wide open waters, and tried to find my place in the pack. I can’t remember ever being in the
first wave at a race. Normally the “old lady” group is one of the last to
start. This morning, the 40+ men and women as well as the Clydesdale and Athena
racers would be starting first.
I did my normal surveying of my competitors to try and
decide who was going to beat me. Normally it was easy to tell because they
would be clamoring to get up to the front of the pack. There were one a few
people up at the front and one of them was telling everyone he wasn’t a fast
swimmer. I figured I would stay put and hope that the fast people behind me
were kind and wouldn’t try and drown me as they swam over the top of me.
It crossed my mind that my added fat layer would help me float
but that idea was dashed when the realist in me reminded me that the extra fat
was also going to have to ride and run.
The waiting was the worst. I just wanted the race to start
so it could be over. Just finish so you know what you need to work on or at
least be able to decide if you want to keep doing this.
As soon as the start was announced, I started the timer on my
Garmin and began to swim. Two of the swimmers in front of me blocked by path
and I found myself touching their feet for the first several strokes before one
of the swimmers moved to the right.
In the water, the buoys seemed much farther part than they
looked from the beach. I just kept swimming as I felt my arms start to fatigue.
As I kept going, I realized it wasn’t fatigue, it was just the after affects of the
adrenaline rush from the race start. This was sort of a relief because I
realized that I felt pretty good. The swimmer on my left was a bit off course
and I could hear the people in the kayaks yelling for him to go around the buoy
(he was on course to cut on the inside). The swimmer on my right seemed to have switched to
breaststroke and I soon passed him.
Before I knew it, I saw the swimmer in front stand up and exit the water. I
looked down and realized I was also in standing depth water. I stood up and
fished out the wetsuit tag thinking that I had to tear it off and hand it to
someone. The race volunteer indicated that it was unnecessary, so I stepped onto
the sandy beach and started to jog up to transition.
As I ran, I stripped off my goggles and cap. I wanted to
walk but begged myself to just keep going. It was way too soon to start
walking.
Bike
Transition was quick and efficient. I fumbled a bit with my
helmet, still not adept at disconnecting and connecting the new fangled magnetic
clip but eventually I got it strapped on my head. I jogged my bike over to the bike
mount line and hopped on. As I pedaled off I could hear the announcer saying I was
first out of transition.
What? No way.
I started pedaling a little quicker, slowing
only to get over the several speed bumps on the road out of the park. As I pedaled
on, I listened for the sound of a bike coming up behind me. I remembered hearing
the pros during Barb’s Race passing me on their second lap of their full Vineman
race. The wind thumping sound of solid disk wheels chasing you down and blowing
by you is stained in my memory. This morning was silent.
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This is what 165ish pounds looks like. You can definitely see it around my middle where from what I have read is where menopause weight goes ...it's a retirement community for fat. |
I started to panic wondering if I had gone too far. I had
never been a lead rider. I was always guaranteed to have faster men out in
front leading the way. My panic subsided when I saw the photographer at the
turn around along with a handful of race volunteers. I navigated the turn and
started back to transition. Towards the top of the slight climb from the turn I
saw a group of three racers. I thought it was two women and a man but I couldn’t
be sure. My mind switched to feeling chased. They knew where I was and how far
they had to go to catch me.
Run
I finished up my safe, in park, four-mile ride and rolled back into
transition. By this point I had completely screwed up my Garmin timing. The
overall time would be right, but I had forgotten to change sports in transition
so I knew things were goofy. As I ran out of transition and out on to the run
course I heard the announcer say my name. He mentioned that I was the lead person out
of the first wave (or something like that LOL).
This simple statement reminded me that even though I was in
front there technically could be faster competitors from the other wave. This planted
a little seed of doubt that I had to fight for the rest of the race.
As soon as I left the grassy area of the park and headed out
to the dirt trail, the heat of the morning was evident, and it wasn’t that hot yet.
Immediately I wanted to start walking. Why push yourself when you know you aren’t
going to win? Is the pain worth it? You could probably start walking and still
win your age group.
About a quarter of the way into the run, I heard footsteps
behind me. Ok, here it is. Some chick is going to pass me and then I can walk.
However, it was just a very fit man running effortlessly across the dirt and gravel.
I felt sluggish and out of shape. My running never looks or feels like that. I plodded
along convincing myself that slow running is still faster than walking.
At the turn around I got a look at a few more male runners
closing in. No female yet. I wondered
how much time was between the waves. 3 minutes? 5 minutes? If I saw a female in
the next few minutes she could still finish with a faster time than me. I was working
hard to not entertain the idea of winning overall female. That’s crazy talk. Besides,
walking would feel really good right now.
With less than half a mile to go, I reminded myself that at
the most it was less than 5 minutes. Less than 300 seconds. With all my time
spent on the bike trainer and treadmill, I have gotten really quick at
converting minutes to seconds. I do this when time seems to stand still.
Seconds tick by much faster than miles or minutes.
I eventually saw a female and I didn’t think it was one of
the women I saw on the bike. She had to be from the later wave. I turned back
on to the grassy area and could finally see the finish line arch. It seemed so far
away and I was so tired and nauseous. I pushed a bit harder knowing that the extra
effort would end my suffering a little sooner.
Relief washed over me as I crossed the finish line. It may
not have been the longest or the hardest race, but mentally, it was one of
the toughest. I was so glad it was over. I walked over to a volunteer by the
orange Igloo jugs and gladly accepted a cup of water.
Post Race
After I had a chance to cool off, I changed out of my race gear
in to looser clothing that was not a constant reminder of my increased
size. I splashed some water on my face to wash off the dirt and sweat and went
to join HS and our friends. We had some catching up to do and their daughter had opted to do the longer race that morning, so we would have plenty of time.
Once the announcer said that initial results were posted, I
walked over to the shade of the results tent. Several racers were huddled
around the table. A few were trying to snap photos of the results so they could
review them away from all the activity. I walked around to the back side of the
table and craned my neck to get a peek. Things were a bit blurry but I found my
name fifth from the top. I tried reading the names but found it easier to check
another column that noted either M or F. I was the first F on the list with a time of :27:01.5, a new PR!
I was floored! When I started the day, my main goal was to
finish and not embarrass myself or HS. I was hoping to finish with a decent
time that wasn’t to far off from previous efforts. I was prepared to credit a slower
time with my additional weight. I was not prepared to win overall female in
spite of the extra pounds.
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This is not what I expected when I left the house this morning |
Following the race, I started considering the implications
for IRONMAN California. First and foremost is my weight. I am happy to know
that I haven’t lost any speed. However, going
into an IRONMAN race with all of those extra pounds is not something I want to
do. I want to do this race knowing that I have done everything in my power to
get ready.
I went through previous blog posts and noted complaints of an extra 20 pounds. However, it turned out that those 20 were based on a much lower desired race weight. A weight that may have been a little too aggressive. This time I'm shooting for something that should be attainable, or at least it was in the past.
My weight seems so out of control and erratic that my only option now is to turn it all over to God and pray for his strength. It's the one thing that has worked in the past that I haven't tried again...but that's a longer story best saved for another day.