From Dancer to Triathlete: Part Two Lake Sammamish Triathlon 2013

3 CommentsSunday • August 25, 2013 • by Imei

While immersed in triathlon race mode, I’m using my “down time” off the circuit of dance to do the kinds of things dancers don’t always have time to do, such as stop and listen to new and emerging music styles and modes, experimenting with movement (Prancercize vs. the Freestyle swim), playing piano, composing and singing, and watching a ton of video on the subject of dance and music. It’s been a lovely break, replete with the emotions of falling back in love with dance in the way that dancers always do.

Lake Sammamish Triathlon was my “A” race — that is, the race I had been training for all summer to put all the pieces together of the swim-bike-run events in such as way as to come as close as possible to a 1:40 – 1:50 finish time as a newbie to triathlete racing. Just so my art and dance readers don’t think I’ve gone completely bonkers, that time was taken from an average of females 45-49 (yep, my age category) from the past two races for that distance and course. At the level of training I had completed thanks to the coaches of Pro Sports Club (with a special thanks to Coach Covey, Kelsey for the first swim lessons, and lots of support from my Man-Geek), I had the managed expectation to hit somewhere in that range, barring any dramatic and unforeseen events, like deer bouncing onto the road, or an accident.

Once again, I learned that what we conceive in our minds and what actually happens can be two very different things.

Here’s the race report, with transition times and other details for my race friends on the team, and then some other funny details. [Spoiler: no deer running out of the woods on this one!]

Pre-Race Details

Earlier in the week, I had taken my bike back to the shop because my new tire replacement was giving me some problems. It turned out that the bike repair guy had indeed given me the wrong bike tire (too big) and it was rubbing against my brake. Although I had protested in the store that it was the wrong size, the repair guy insisted that I was wrong. On top of that, he gave me one that was ill-fitting because it bubbled outside the frame in one spot. I had the bike tire resized, the proper one purchased and placed onto the bike, and tested it myself. That new tire was placed on the back, and the back tire moved to the front, since the new tire was known to be more “flat resistant” than the one I had before the switch. I took the bike out on a test run Thursday and Friday, and everything looked good.

Earlier this month, I had been reading an article in White Tiger’s LAVA August 2013 magazine issue about Meredith Kessler as “Mrs. Gumption” (by Matt Dixon) from the coach’s perspective of a pro triathlete’s journey. While we hunger for the analytics and performance details, the article also spends time on aspects of Kessler’s character that I find most interesting: that ability to be teachable, to have heart, yet combined with her emotional gumption – that aspect of stick-to-it-ness that many athletes of all kinds lack. This is a lot of why I started training and racing: I believe that the mind-body connection allows for lessons learned in one area of life to transfer to other areas, and my hope is to become not just a better athlete, but a better and more adaptable and compassionate human being.

Earlier in the week, my family had begun gathering for a rare reunion. We are spread across the globe, so to get us all under one roof is not an easy task. What threw me was an unbalanced and frankly offensive remark that came in a family group text from one of my family members referencing my triathlon racing. It caught me by surprise, and while another family member reached out to console me and let me know what a hurtful remark it was, the emotional net had been cast, and I felt caught in it. 

So what do you do when you realize someone close to you doesn’t like what you do,  finds it ridiculous, unnecessary, and annoying? Well, this Snappy Dragon grumped about for awhile! I asked myself if this family member was correct, as I am always one to look for kernels of truth even within the most biting criticism. Our egos can survive much when we realize there is no real personal loss, only choices of how to respond. I sent the family member a gracious response, and then did my best to let it roll off of me as quickly as possible.  I’ll be honest: it took about 48 hours to let go of that comment. Our minds can become so attached to emotions, and emotions often conflate our real thoughts and feelings beyond their original intention. I finally let it go.

Two nights before the race, I had a repeating dream that the bike portion of the race converted into a race that lasted all day instead of my usual 40 minutes for this distance and intensity. The night before the race, I had a repeating dream that the swim portion transformed into a Swim For Life format, with competitors swimming endlessly until they raised their hand in the air in exhaustion and were immediately disqualified from the race. Once again, my mind was up to its usual hijinks to get it to fully commit to the components of the race that cause me the most anxiety.

This time, I was ready for it.

 

Race Morning

All race morning details are on a check list, including all my nutrition and fluids for pre-race, pre-swim, T1, bike, T2, and run. Like surgeons who use checklists in the OR to reduce the risks of mistakes, I like checklists because they allow my mind to focus by depositing details on the list and limiting rumination. We arrived at Lake Sammamish at 5:45am with plenty of time to set up my transition area and get in the water to do my anti-water anxiety routine. The water was pleasantly warm, and the cool air that threatened rain made the water even more inviting. The minute I got in the water, any butterflies about the race seemed to vanish. 

Swim 0.25 miles

Time: 11 minutes 35 seconds

This time, my wave start was with females age 45-49 and all Athena competitors. I chose the inside left corner to start, and immediately fell into a nice draft behind another swimmer heading out to the first buoy of the 1/4 mile swim. For those readers who don’t swim in open water, drafting is a nice option as  I am not a fast swimmer, and at the same time, you don’t have to sight for the buoy because you can just follow their feet. I probably did this for longer than I could have, because by the second buoy I realized I had more giddy yup left for the swim and starting revving up for the shore, easily passing several swimmers and only stopping for a few seconds to shake out some water that had seeped into my right goggle lens.

On the downside of drafting in open water, it’s often very hard to learn how to know you are pacing yourself closely to your usual speed other than paying attention to your breath and comfort level. I must have placed myself behind a swimmer who was swimming slowly because: 1) my overall time was slower, and 2) that was one of the most comfortable open water swims I have had in weeks! No anxiety, no breathlessness, no worries. So for the cost of about two minutes, I found myself running out of the water on the exit as if I had barely done the effort of swimming.

 

T1 and Bike 14.0 miles

T1 time: 4minutes 39 seconds

Bike time: 1 hour 1 minute 12 seconds

Out of the swim, I had already pulled off the top part of my wetsuit, swim cap, and googles. The cool air hit me and I started to shiver.

Since the bike event of tri racing was the only part I had not done under race conditions, I was a little nervous about it. In T1, I had planned to throw my race food (sushi rice + bacon bits + egg wrapped in seaweed) into my mouth while pulling off the bottom half of my wetsuit, putting on my tri top, wiping off excess water and drying my feet, and then getting on the remainder of my bike gear. I expected my transition time in T1 to be long, and it was. My wetsuit did not come off easily, and I think I’ll cut another inch off the suit legs before the next race. Pictures taken during transition show me munching on my race food like a happy cow. I also decided on using a water pack instead of bottles, as I prefer it over reaching down for fluids from a bottle in a cage holder.

Because the morning was cool and the clouds were full of promise for rain, I threw on bike sleeves; that was a good call because I found the ride to be on the cool side. Early in the bike event, I spotted Cody Novak by the side of the road, cheering Pro Sport Club riders in uniform on. This was Clue #1 that something had gone wrong for his race, and that maybe I might want to pay attention. Sure enough, I spotted racer after racer on the side of the road: a flat here, a broken chain there. My bike kicked up wet road grit from the rain, and I focused on safe cornering for the turn around and the return descent back to transition.

My family once owned a dog named Oscar, who used to love pulling us around by leash on a skateboard. I used to point him towards home and yell, “Run Oscar, run!” while enjoying a quick ride home. This is what the decent felt like as I headed towards the last corner into the final mile of the bike event.

“Kaboom!” I heard behind me, and my back wheel jerked under me, causing me to swerve erratically. I thought I was going down for sure! Two people nearby immediately ran towards me, anticipating that I might fall from the blast of my tire flatting out. Using my front brake, I was able to safely ease myself to a stop, recognizing I had been extremely lucky that the flat happened where it did — on a nice flat area with no one to my right or left. I started to reach for my bike kit (tube, levers, compression cartridges), when I realized that in the packing of my bag the night before, I had failed to mention to my Man that I didn’t have a valve to release the air cartridge into the tire [whomp whomp whomp]. Even if I had changed the tube at mile 13, it would have taken me an additional ten minutes to hand pump the tire.

Four minutes later, enter woman spectator. She happened to have a valve and spare cartridges. [Mwah!] I made the decision that rather than waste additional time changing my tire, a quick fill might be just enough to get my bike close enough to the transition area to either walk or carry my bike the rest of the way, otherwise, I was looking at either a very long finish time, or a voluntary DNF. Turned out, it wasn’t a bad idea. I made it back to the parking lot of Lake Sammamish just as the last of the air wheezed out of the tire, and ran with it the rest of the way in.

I found out later that without the flat, I was right on time for an approximate45-50 minute finish. Lesson learned: pack a compression valve. Practice changing a tire whilst timing it.

 

Run 3.2miles

T2 time: 1 minute 34 seconds

Run time: 31 minutes 30 seconds

Running is my old and weathered lover from my days of anorexia. Sometimes we get along. Sometimes we don’t, and there are sharp words between us. I had taped myself up with Kinesio tape earlier that morning, and the rain and road grit from the bike ride had long turned that tape into something that looked along the lines of useless, moldy bathtub sealant. Today was a good day for running, as the air was still cool. Off went the sleeves, on went the sneakers.

The first and only water station on the mostly trail run (uneven dirt and grass with very little gravel and one stretch of pavement) was at mile 1.5, and so I didn’t take any water with me. Unfortunately, I forgot to take an extra swig of water in T2 before downing 3/4′s of a Honey Stinger gel, which usually keeps me from bonking on the run after the first 90 minutes of exercise. Ten minutes into the run, I got a bad case of side stitches and found myself reducing from an 8:30 pace to a 10:30 pace. I had also run part of the trail earlier in the week and knew to slow down a bit on the uneven terrain, as one misstep can mean a twisted ankle (translation: no more racing or dancing for a few weeks). I’ll be adding that detail to my list before the next race: drink 3 ounces of water, take gel.

I had never been more happy to see a water station, and gave a peace sign for two cups of water, and then two more from the eager volunteers. Continuing on, the stitches eventually went away and I picked up my pace on the short stretch of paved trail. As far as I know, no one has ever died of side stitches, so this was my own race example of reaching into my “pain cave”  and asking myself how badly I wanted to make an attempt for a 1:50 overall finish time, even with a flat tire on the bike.

Is it the point to be a place finisher, or a finisher? Is the event to learn about yourself, or to stop trying and kick back? Everyone is at a different place with these kinds of questions, and there is no right answer, only the right answer for you. In my case, the decision to finish the race in the best possible time without risking injury had already happened with the bike flat, so I did what I always do — speed up the music in my head in the last mile, and look for some age-group racers to pass on the way to the finish line.

[Run home, Oscar, run!]

 

 

Overall finish time: 1 hour 50 minutes 32 seconds. 

 

Next race: Sept 7, 2013 Lake Stevens Sprint Triathlon. Part 3 of the Dancer to Triathlete blog series.