My weekend was pretty crazy. You know, par for the course. I arrived in Geneva Friday afternoon. Kelly and I stayed at an apartment of a colleague of mine—thanks Izzster! Kelly and I were scheduled to work the Tri Slide Pit at the MiniMussel Saturday morning—which we totally rocked. I can not even begin to tell you how many athletes approached us to ask us where we could pick up TriSlide the morning of the race. Later that afternoon, Kelly and I had to be at the Smith Opera House for a rehearsal. We both were involved in the third ArtsTriathlon following the athletes meeting. This year was especially awesome since Kelly and I had an opportunity to play a piece together. We had not performed together since we were both students at the Ithaca Conservatory more than twelve years ago. How is this even possible?!
Following the Tri-Slide pit on Saturday, Kelly and I made our way to breakfast at a local restaurant where we ate our weight in pancakes. I ran out of the restaurant (literally) where I just got to my rehearsal time with moments to spare. Following the concert, I picked up my packet at the pickup, and Kelly and I returned to the apartment for some much needed Recovery Pump therapy. As you will soon find out, my legs certainly needed it last Sunday.
The Race: My knee started feeling better a couple of weeks ago, and I told Coach Mary that my run endurance was pretty good, and that I might be able to try giving the HIM a shot. I promised her that I would alternate running and walking, and that my ego would certainly not get in the way. Coach Mary's response was "... uh-huh. Let's talk on Thursday."
I then spoke to a couple of my friends—Kelly and Alexa—who also convinced me that my ego would get the better of me, and that I should not try to run. It came down to Coach Mary, who said "...you have two choices. Do you want to run this HIM, or run at Rev3 Cedar Point?" I chose the latter.
My swim was about 37-ish minutes. I never really felt great, but I did not feel bad in the water either. I think that I did not have enough to eat race morning. I drank a lot of my First Endurance Grape, but I could only manage to throw down a bagel. I just could not stomach anything else. I wasn't nervous, just not hungry! The lack of nutrition in the morning turned out to be a critical mistake when I got to my bike. Gheez, you would think I would have this figured out by now! I was hoping to ride in the high 20's, maybe even average 21 m.p.h. for the course. I had done the course a few times averaging around that, and thought that since I did not have to run, I could just leave everything out on the bike.
When I got to my bike, I had a little extra motivation waiting for me as I pulled my bike off the rack:
Despite my motivational mantra, the first ten miles on the bike were not fun. My legs were just never with me. Last season, I was able to do a lot more rides where the hills are. Unfortunately, this season, I have not been able to get out and do those rolling hills. I think I felt it on Sunday. There is no substitute for putting in the miles and finding some hills to climb. I averaged just over 19 m.p.h. for the course. I am pretty disappointed with my bike, but I learned something from the experience though, and that is progress: force the food down, no matter what! It was blazing hot on Sunday. The temperatures soared to 94 degrees. My bike split was 2:56. I have some work to do, but I will get it done, or I will suffer like crazy come September.
Off for an hour and a half spin. More soon. Train Smart!
From Urban Dictionary under the "Triathlon Widow" heading: