Racine 70.3 Race Report

I think that at some point this weekend I realized how long a full Ironman is. Brian says I still don't get it, but I'm not sure. There's something about finishing an event- a long event- in 93 degree heat and then realizing that you have to do what you just did- but twice- that puts things in perspective a little bit.
Overall, the race went fine. It was hot. I raced fine for the heat, but not phenomenally. I missed my time goal by about 10 minutes, but I know that I can't be too upset, given the conditions.

The swim is definitely my biggest weakness. I am a not a good swimmer. I'm not exactly sure why, I have strong arms and legs and I go fairly fast at other things. I've been told that my stroke is "not bad'; however, the net result of my swimming is. This year my main goal was just not to freak out in the swim. Last year I got kicked in the face within the first couple of minutes (Racine has a wave start, but I was still stupid enough to start near the front despite my heinous swimming [read this to mean that I then had the majority of my age group swim right on over me- not a pleasant feeling]). While I still got out of the swim with an embarrassingly slow time, I at least managed not to have a panic attack in the water this time (it's the small victories, right?).
The bike is where I started to make some decisions. I stayed within my comfort zone due to the heat instead of pushing. I ended up beating my bike time from last year by only a minute, which was pretty disappointing. Despite the fact that I know that I still have a lot of things to learn and a lot of places to grow, I feel that I've become a much stronger cyclist in the months of training so far. Despite playing it a little safe, I figured that I would shave at least five minutes off the bike, not just one.
The run was fine. I've been slowing down since Ironman training started (and running in 93 degree heat isn't easy), so I'm not surprised that the run was slower than last year. Despite having some initial doubts during the first two miles (after which my legs recovered from the bike and I managed to shove two cups of ice into my sports bra), I settled into a slow run pretty easily (slow is relative here, despite the fact that I was running a relatively slow pace, a 93 degree race looks like quite the death march in places), and managed to hold it pretty steady until the end. I never hit that dark place where you start bargaining with yourself (or god or the devil), which either means I raced smart or that I didn't leave enough out on the course. Who knows?
All I know is that when I finished, I was happy to be done. I would not have wanted to have done twice that race Sunday.

Less than two months until race day.

Racing Racine

I hate racing.
I know that sounds counter-intuitive or downright crazy (especially for someone who keeps signing up for races), but it's true. Everyone keeps asking me if I'm excited to race for the first time this season (Racine 70.3 half Ironman) and I, much to their surprise, keep replying "no" in such a way that one would think that they just asked whether or not I was looking forward to a colonoscopy.
So why do I do it? I'm not sure. 
I enjoy the training, there is no doubt about that, but the race itself leaves me nervous and anxious and nauseous. I just can't seem to get out of my own head on race day (or the day before, or the day before...). While racing drives me near-crazy, I will admit that enjoy the end result. But then again, I also enjoy walking out of the dentist (but I'm not going to go back unnecessarily just to get that feeling).
I know I'll sing a different tune when the race is over (you know, provided it goes well), and I have another medal to my name. But for now I'm just going to pace around my house, hoping that I didn't forget to pack anything, Googling "how do I swim 1.2 miles?", and pining for that bottle of wine in the fridge (which is strictly forbidden until after the race, coach's orders).

The Fast Drag

I know that it's been awhile since I've updated, but that's because I've been really busy being lazy, going out of town, and keeping up 14-15 hour workout weeks.
I've managed to reach the same point in Ironman training and in summer vacation at the same time. It is what I call the fast drag (a fabulous oxymoron, much like being lazy while working out all the time). The fast drag is something that happens when individual days (or workouts) may seem to drag, but at the same time you seem to be hurdling head-first towards something rather unpleasant for which you don't quite feel prepared (the Ironman race [God help me] and the beginning of the school year [I'm pretty sure even God isn't interested in intervening in that one]).
I'm at the point in training where instead of thinking that there are endless long rides left and ruing that fact, I am counting them up with fear ("only how many chances to ride the Madison course left?" or "Only how many days in which I can learn how to swim?"). While recently doing a hugely mentally painful 80 miles (2.5 miles...over and over and over and over... [or 32 times past the roadkill chipmunk] nursing poison ivy and about 85 discreet bug bites), I spent half of the time counting down the time remaining (only 10 more times I have to look at that chipmunk) and the other half panicking that the completion of this workout meant that I was one long ride closer to the race (of which, I hate to say it, I am terrified). Thus, the fast drag.
Never mind that I am racing for the first time this season this weekend (only about 107 hours left- eek!).