i traveled back to the homeland once again to complete a triathlon as a non resident. not sure why i have to always go the difficult route and race once i move to an new state entirely. i flew down on thursday morning and was like a small child at Christmas in the california sun. that sun is different then utah sun, it just makes you happy. until of course you hop on the 405 and the mid day traffic quickly reminds you why God made that place sunny all the time. i was happy to have a day to visit old friends, walk along the strand and do some drive bys of the 8 places i called home while in the south bay.
i spent the afternoon with my best friend at our favorite hang out and just relaxed catching up and trying to get her to move to utah, i failed at all my attempts. i awoke the next morning planning on an ocean swim in corona del mar but of course got lost and ended up somewhere in newport beach. i'll probably get lost on the way to my own funeral!
we checked into the fancy hotel off the 5 next to the Gentlemans club and met up with moka and dave for a quick trip down to athlete check in. i met up with another old friend for dinner and then it was back to motel de la awesome for some bike maintainance and hallway aero riding. im lucky to have VERY patient friends with VERY patient better halves who can conduct bike fits with plastic ice trays. all about the accuracy.
i slept like a baby, i am an exception here since everyone else seems to have a hard time sleeping the night before i race i'm out like a light at 10:00 pm and up like a bolt at 4:30 am. i gathered my stuff and had to leave my racing buddy behind due to a stomach bug. i headed down to t1 and was relived to see Salt Lake Tri Club signs ahead attached to none other than the duckworth clan. we ran into several more people i listened to some bieber fever to get me going and headed over to the line up for the bathroom. it was then that my first bout of ADD kicked in and 6 week old puppies distracted me from having to later push my way up to my swim start.
reason number one you should study a course start, when the start happened i thought it was the actual start to the race, it was in fact, not so i wasted whatever energy i had pushing my way to what was only the in water start. genius. i stopped and doggie paddled until the actual gun went off and everything i'd learned in the pool dissipated and it was survival of the fittest. my swim starts typically all start out the same within the first five minutes i've convince myself everyone has passed me and i'm the last person in the pact. of course i'm never actually able to confirm that since i start the mantras in my head and just try to not drown. no matter how many times i do these things the swim is never a calm process for me. i spend most of the time praying to God and reciting song lyrics over and over again in my head. i alternated between "everythings gonna be alright" and "never say never" i blame the pre race biebs listening for that one. i think i did more praying to God this time around since i seemed to be getting run over by the lead males in the next wave. i am not a fish nor will i ever be. i confirmed that this race.
so it was out of the water and into transition. smiling. yes, smiling. and onto the bike. i felt awesome the entire time. thank you computrainer and 4:30 wake up calls (even the classes i missed) i loved the climbing and there was a lot of it. my new shoes and cleats felt great and my shoulders burned from the fancy ice tray bike fit the night before but it was do or die. i tried my best to stay in Z2 but didn't have nearly enough water or food to keep me going. lesson learned. by mile 45 i was exhausted and he guy in front of me was way to close for me to not take some advantage. just as the thought crossed my mind i heard "4 bike lengths" shouted at me. the motorcycle draft police were not amused. i dropped back and finished into t2.
the run. my favorite and where i typically make up the most time. but as with every race, expect the unexpected. by mile 7 i was dead. my own fault as i hadn't put in the miles and i knew it. i was skeptical on my shoes before i started and they won when the blisters started , each step seemed like pure hell. utah had a huge representation and seeing familiar faces along the course alternating between "BAM" and "go curry" made me feel proud and disciplined enough to keep going. the last mile hurt and my feet felt like they weren't even there anymore. i just wanted to cross that finish line and be done. and i did. 6:09 final time. 9 minutes over what i'd hoped but a full hour less than the only other half i'd done 3 years prior. i finished the race and saw dr. tom who directed me to the utah crew. he pegged it perfectly when he said i looked a hot mess because at that moment in time i felt like one. a very proud hot mess.
so the story continues and the training resumes because every time i swear to the holy heavens i'm not doing another one. one seemingly appears on the calendar. boulder 140.6 i'll see you august!
One Step Forward, Two Steps Back
6 years ago
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