I haven’t posted a race report in a while. There was something about Vineman, something so special, I’m moved to write about it.
The History
In January, when I got Lauren Fleshman’s Believe Training Journal, I wrote out a few goals for 2015. One of them was to get a 2:45 bike split at Vineman 70.3. Last year, at Boulder 70.3, I managed 2:54 on the bike, and met my sub-6:00 goal for a half Ironman. I did some research and realized, based on historical times, if I hit 2:45 at Vineman, it would likely be in the top 10 bike times for my age group. With hard work, it was attainable, but it wouldn’t be easy. I wrote it down in my journal, and then set about doing what I could to reach it.
First step was finding a good spin class. I struggled to find a time and an instructor at my regular gym, but finally found CRUfit in Montclair, which uses power-based training on the bike. After a 6-week hill training series this spring, I started noticing new PRs on my Strava account as I climbed local hills on training rides. The power training was working!
I had a bad month in May. I moved and traveled for work, and my training derailed a little bit. I lost some motivation and essentially stopped swimming (it doesn’t take much to convince me not to swim). I had long training rides with teammates, and I had a couple century rides to push my endurance, but I kept noticing on these rides that at the 2:45 mark I was nowhere near 56 miles. I pushed hard, rode strong, but still felt like my goal was not quite in reach. It made me nervous.
When June came around, I suddenly remembered that my other big race of the year, Santa Rosa Marathon, is right around the corner, and it was past time to throw some long training runs in my schedule. I tucked a 16-miler into my peak weekend of training, and then knocked out an 18-miler the week before Vineman, followed immediately by a recovery soak in the Jacuzzi at my gym.
Then taper, taper, taper for six days, and time to race.
The Race
Swimming: Yes, there’s enough water.
Race morning was relaxing. With a 7:48 wave start I could sleep in until 5am and still get to Guernville with time to wander about chatting with friends. I felt calm and ready, eager to see what would happen. The setting was phenomenal, the river stretching out through the trees, a light mist rising off the water, clear blue sky overhead. The river was a delightful 66 degrees, shallow but completely swimmable, fresh and cool. That was a good swim, and getting out of the water in 37 minutes, it was also a decently fast one, for me (considering the whole "not swimming in a month" thing). The ladies at the 35-39 racks were commenting about how nice it was as we hustled into helmets and shoes and snagged our bikes for the next leg of this adventure.
Biking: Breathe. Focus. Power.
I set out on my bike in my loaner aero helmet and with my loaner race wheels whirring. The bike route is fantastic. Amazing. Glorious. Just plain fun. Not "plain" anything, actually stunningly beautiful. And definitely hillier than I expected. I rode most of the route at various times, but not from Guernville directly, and I didn’t expect a few of the steeper bits at the beginning. To meet my goal, I needed to average 21 mph for the 56 miles. I had my eye on my watch regularly, monitoring my speed and comparing it to my effort. The rollers made me question whether I should push as hard as I was pushing so early in the race, but I thought, “Of course I should.”
“Passing!” “On your left!” It was a pretty big confidence boost to rush past the lines of other cyclists on the road. A few miles in, all the 30-something speedy men in the wave behind me passed me in the same way, whizzing by with their disk wheels and sculpted legs. I enjoyed the view, and hoped I provided a little something of the same to the people I blazed past.
And it felt blazing! I did little check-ins with myself, how are you doing, heart rate is high, stay calm, that knot in my glute is flaring, easy up the pressure a bit, focus, breathe, power power power.
The History
In January, when I got Lauren Fleshman’s Believe Training Journal, I wrote out a few goals for 2015. One of them was to get a 2:45 bike split at Vineman 70.3. Last year, at Boulder 70.3, I managed 2:54 on the bike, and met my sub-6:00 goal for a half Ironman. I did some research and realized, based on historical times, if I hit 2:45 at Vineman, it would likely be in the top 10 bike times for my age group. With hard work, it was attainable, but it wouldn’t be easy. I wrote it down in my journal, and then set about doing what I could to reach it.
First step was finding a good spin class. I struggled to find a time and an instructor at my regular gym, but finally found CRUfit in Montclair, which uses power-based training on the bike. After a 6-week hill training series this spring, I started noticing new PRs on my Strava account as I climbed local hills on training rides. The power training was working!
I had a bad month in May. I moved and traveled for work, and my training derailed a little bit. I lost some motivation and essentially stopped swimming (it doesn’t take much to convince me not to swim). I had long training rides with teammates, and I had a couple century rides to push my endurance, but I kept noticing on these rides that at the 2:45 mark I was nowhere near 56 miles. I pushed hard, rode strong, but still felt like my goal was not quite in reach. It made me nervous.
When June came around, I suddenly remembered that my other big race of the year, Santa Rosa Marathon, is right around the corner, and it was past time to throw some long training runs in my schedule. I tucked a 16-miler into my peak weekend of training, and then knocked out an 18-miler the week before Vineman, followed immediately by a recovery soak in the Jacuzzi at my gym.
Then taper, taper, taper for six days, and time to race.
The Race
Swimming: Yes, there’s enough water.
Race morning was relaxing. With a 7:48 wave start I could sleep in until 5am and still get to Guernville with time to wander about chatting with friends. I felt calm and ready, eager to see what would happen. The setting was phenomenal, the river stretching out through the trees, a light mist rising off the water, clear blue sky overhead. The river was a delightful 66 degrees, shallow but completely swimmable, fresh and cool. That was a good swim, and getting out of the water in 37 minutes, it was also a decently fast one, for me (considering the whole "not swimming in a month" thing). The ladies at the 35-39 racks were commenting about how nice it was as we hustled into helmets and shoes and snagged our bikes for the next leg of this adventure.
Biking: Breathe. Focus. Power.
I set out on my bike in my loaner aero helmet and with my loaner race wheels whirring. The bike route is fantastic. Amazing. Glorious. Just plain fun. Not "plain" anything, actually stunningly beautiful. And definitely hillier than I expected. I rode most of the route at various times, but not from Guernville directly, and I didn’t expect a few of the steeper bits at the beginning. To meet my goal, I needed to average 21 mph for the 56 miles. I had my eye on my watch regularly, monitoring my speed and comparing it to my effort. The rollers made me question whether I should push as hard as I was pushing so early in the race, but I thought, “Of course I should.”
“Passing!” “On your left!” It was a pretty big confidence boost to rush past the lines of other cyclists on the road. A few miles in, all the 30-something speedy men in the wave behind me passed me in the same way, whizzing by with their disk wheels and sculpted legs. I enjoyed the view, and hoped I provided a little something of the same to the people I blazed past.
And it felt blazing! I did little check-ins with myself, how are you doing, heart rate is high, stay calm, that knot in my glute is flaring, easy up the pressure a bit, focus, breathe, power power power.
I used my mantras along the way. Each had its purpose. There was a moment along a straightaway when I started to feel fatigued, and I said, “You’re stronger than you know.” I calmed my breath and kept my pace.
Heading up Chalk Hill, in the crowds that bog down on that incline, I said to myself, “breathe, breathe, breathe” and PR’d that ascent. I crested the incline with a bunch of badass 50 year old women, I told them all, “Nice work, ladies,” I shouted “Passing” at the dudes slowing right at the peak, up-shifted and took the descent thinking “focus” and thinking “power.”
The end was near. Those last few miles on the bike, I saw the time getting close, 2:20, 2:25, and I knew I couldn’t relax, I had to put it all out there. I said, “harden the fuck up” and gritted my teeth through the only ugly miles on that course, winding over highways and past commercial parks, into a headwind. Blah. Perfect time to focus on speed.
When I saw the high school and the big orange balloon arch marking the end of the ride, my breath caught in my lungs, my stomach clenched, and I couldn't stop the tears. My watch read 2:35 and I had more than met my goal with just a half-mile of coasting behind a couple of slower women in the no-passing zone, urging them to keep pedaling while I gasped and gulped and felt so much elation and awe at what I had just done.
At bike dismount, I saw my coach, Jay, who was volunteering, and I could barely get the words out as I tried to get off my bike: “I met my goal, I beat my goal!” Then it was a quarter-mile run in bike shoes to get to transition (run/walk, I should say), and a quick racking, shoe change, hat change, and out the chute to phase 3.
Heading up Chalk Hill, in the crowds that bog down on that incline, I said to myself, “breathe, breathe, breathe” and PR’d that ascent. I crested the incline with a bunch of badass 50 year old women, I told them all, “Nice work, ladies,” I shouted “Passing” at the dudes slowing right at the peak, up-shifted and took the descent thinking “focus” and thinking “power.”
The end was near. Those last few miles on the bike, I saw the time getting close, 2:20, 2:25, and I knew I couldn’t relax, I had to put it all out there. I said, “harden the fuck up” and gritted my teeth through the only ugly miles on that course, winding over highways and past commercial parks, into a headwind. Blah. Perfect time to focus on speed.
When I saw the high school and the big orange balloon arch marking the end of the ride, my breath caught in my lungs, my stomach clenched, and I couldn't stop the tears. My watch read 2:35 and I had more than met my goal with just a half-mile of coasting behind a couple of slower women in the no-passing zone, urging them to keep pedaling while I gasped and gulped and felt so much elation and awe at what I had just done.
At bike dismount, I saw my coach, Jay, who was volunteering, and I could barely get the words out as I tried to get off my bike: “I met my goal, I beat my goal!” Then it was a quarter-mile run in bike shoes to get to transition (run/walk, I should say), and a quick racking, shoe change, hat change, and out the chute to phase 3.
Running: Vineyards and water stops.
There was something so refreshing about doing a run when I already had everything I wanted out of a race. I just had to finish. It’d be nice to finish in under 6 hours, maybe beat my Boulder 70.3 time, but that would just be gravy. Leaving the run, I saw more friends who came to cheer me on, with special #HTFU signs to get me laughing as I ran into the 75 degree afternoon. It took a mile for my legs to remember about running, but then the miles just seemed to float by. I really, really liked having water stops every mile. It almost seemed too frequent in the beginning, but by halfway, they were at exactly the right intervals. I saw teammate Colin running, and teammate Tahra volunteering at a water stop, and friend Betty running, and toward the end passed new friend Eliana. My legs started cramping up a bit, so I didn’t push my pace much, but was able to maintain what I’ll term “comfortably moderate” (in Jay’s track speak) throughout.
I reached the high school and was deafened by the cheers from my old IronTeam crew on the corner, and then rounding up toward the finish I saw my PacWest squad with their signs and cowbells, and then up the ramp and through the chute and over the line to the end.
I took a while inside the finish line catching my breath, and a few minutes later Eliana came through. She was racing for her dear friend Laura Warren, who was a long-time Team in Training honored teammate, whose favorite race was Vineman, and who died a year ago this week. Eliana wore a ribbon for Laura throughout the race and we hugged at the end as she cried for her friend who lived a rich life but died much too soon. We do these things with our bodies because we can, because we have to, because others can’t and we absolutely must. I didn’t know Laura Warren, but I know others fighting this cancer fight right now, and that moment with Eliana at the end of an amazing day cemented my commitment to keep doing what I can to support the cause.
There was something so refreshing about doing a run when I already had everything I wanted out of a race. I just had to finish. It’d be nice to finish in under 6 hours, maybe beat my Boulder 70.3 time, but that would just be gravy. Leaving the run, I saw more friends who came to cheer me on, with special #HTFU signs to get me laughing as I ran into the 75 degree afternoon. It took a mile for my legs to remember about running, but then the miles just seemed to float by. I really, really liked having water stops every mile. It almost seemed too frequent in the beginning, but by halfway, they were at exactly the right intervals. I saw teammate Colin running, and teammate Tahra volunteering at a water stop, and friend Betty running, and toward the end passed new friend Eliana. My legs started cramping up a bit, so I didn’t push my pace much, but was able to maintain what I’ll term “comfortably moderate” (in Jay’s track speak) throughout.
I reached the high school and was deafened by the cheers from my old IronTeam crew on the corner, and then rounding up toward the finish I saw my PacWest squad with their signs and cowbells, and then up the ramp and through the chute and over the line to the end.
I took a while inside the finish line catching my breath, and a few minutes later Eliana came through. She was racing for her dear friend Laura Warren, who was a long-time Team in Training honored teammate, whose favorite race was Vineman, and who died a year ago this week. Eliana wore a ribbon for Laura throughout the race and we hugged at the end as she cried for her friend who lived a rich life but died much too soon. We do these things with our bodies because we can, because we have to, because others can’t and we absolutely must. I didn’t know Laura Warren, but I know others fighting this cancer fight right now, and that moment with Eliana at the end of an amazing day cemented my commitment to keep doing what I can to support the cause.
The Results
It was only later that I realized exactly how amazing a day it was. My friends looked up the race results and told me my finish time was 5:32. I lost my breath with the shock of it. With a 2:05 half-marathon, I had just shaved 27 minutes off my Boulder 70.3 time. I got choked up all over again (and a few more times later that day, as well).
All I could think was, “If you work hard, you can achieve your goals.” It’s a simple statement, but with crazy powerful effect. I wrote a few other goals in my Believe Training Journal. I’m starting to feel pretty excited about what might happen, about what I might be able to accomplish.
It was only later that I realized exactly how amazing a day it was. My friends looked up the race results and told me my finish time was 5:32. I lost my breath with the shock of it. With a 2:05 half-marathon, I had just shaved 27 minutes off my Boulder 70.3 time. I got choked up all over again (and a few more times later that day, as well).
All I could think was, “If you work hard, you can achieve your goals.” It’s a simple statement, but with crazy powerful effect. I wrote a few other goals in my Believe Training Journal. I’m starting to feel pretty excited about what might happen, about what I might be able to accomplish.
The Stats
Swim: 37:09
T1: 5:19
Bike: 2:38:45 (21.2 avg mph, also, 5th fastest bike time in my age group, wow!)
T2: 5:59
Run: 2:05:43 (9:36 avg pace, which includes a bathroom break and a couple minutes stopping to clean the T1 dried mud out of my socks)
Total time: 5:32:55
Division Rank: 19
Overall: 489
On deck: Santa Rosa Marathon, August 23
Swim: 37:09
T1: 5:19
Bike: 2:38:45 (21.2 avg mph, also, 5th fastest bike time in my age group, wow!)
T2: 5:59
Run: 2:05:43 (9:36 avg pace, which includes a bathroom break and a couple minutes stopping to clean the T1 dried mud out of my socks)
Total time: 5:32:55
Division Rank: 19
Overall: 489
On deck: Santa Rosa Marathon, August 23