Return to racing

Prior to this May, I hadn't done a full triathlon since 2015.  With some pesky IT band inflammation and bursitis in my knee, I was sticking to aquabikes and swimming for a while.  After spending November, December, January, and most of February on a run/walk plan to return to running, I was finally able to do some real running by March.  Although it was a busy and stressful spring (hence the delay in writing this post), I couldn't wait to start racing again, just because I can.  And let's not forget the real reason to race:  to get such a cool T-shirt!

Xterra Jersey Devil May 6

I finally got a mountain bike this year, a Liv Pique 2, and I had this race in mind when I got the bike.  Xterra is a series of off-road triathlons with open water swim, mountain bike, and trail run.  This course in the Pine Barrens was the perfect first off-road tri for me, with a not-too-technical bike course.  I'm a fan of races like this that allow race-day registration so I don't have to commit ahead of time.  The day before the race, I tried to take the Pique out for a short easy spin, but the derailleur cable snapped and I abruptly rode home stuck in the hardest gear.  Debating whether I should attempt to race on a less-than-fully-functional bike or skip the race altogether, I got an offer for a house call from mechanic extraordinaire Colin McDonough who easily replaced the cable and got me ready to race.  Thank you Colin!

With a 9 am start and a race location a little over an hour away, I slept in all the way until 5:30 am and barely needed an alarm to wake up on time.  The drive down got a little creepy toward the end which was completely desolate:  no houses, no other cars, only two intersections without even a light.  As always, I parked my car and jumped on my bike with the transition bag on my back and headed to register.  After signing up, I went out to ride part of the bike course as a warm-up.  Pretty soon I found myself slipping in some soft sand.  Then as the trail narrowed winding downhill, I came to a spot with trees on both sides, and I was sure I couldn't fit through.  I dismounted my bike and walked it through just to see.  My handlebars fit between the trees with about 2 inches to spare on either side.  I got out of the way as a young kid rode by and assured me that this was the toughest part of the course, but there were also some sand trenches on the other side.  I didn't exactly know what "sand trenches" meant, but I would find out soon enough.  I rode back to transition, racked my bike, and went out for a warm-up run.  I headed toward the swim start, so I could see what the run in T1 would be like.  Not so great.  I wasn't concerned with how long the run was, but there was a stretch of rocky driveway that I just couldn't run barefoot.  I ran down to see the lake and part of the run course, then headed back up to finish my warm-up with some stretching and running drills.  I made sure my transition set-up was ready, and headed to the swim start. 

The photographer caught me at the most challenging moment in any triathlon:  putting on the wetsuit.  Especially for the first time in the spring season, it's a struggle.  After what felt like forever, I got in a quick swim warm-up, but I was still uncomfortable and probably didn't give myself enough slack in the shoulders of the wetsuit. 

A mass start was appropriate for a race this small (about 100 people), but the swim had a 90 degree turn after about 100 m on this 2 loop course.  I went out at a normal pace, which meant I was right in the middle of everybody at the turn buoy.  I choked a little and had to resort to breaststroke when there was no room to swim.  Eventually the pack thinned out, I finally got into a rhythm by the the second lap, not as strong as I should be, but ok.  The finish of the swim course is weird because you were almost swimming parallel to the shore and didn't have to go around a buoy at the very end.  This reminds me of "The Lifeguard Problem" we do in Calculus and PreCalculus, where you try to minimize the time to reach a certain point based on the swimming rate and the running rate.  Since most people can run faster than they can swim, it's faster if more of the distance is covered by running.  So I tried to angle in to the beach as early as I could. 

Normally, I have no problem running barefoot, but this time I left an old pair of sneakers by the dock to help with the long rocky run back to transition.  I took the wetsuit down to my waist while running, then took it and the shoes off back at transition and put on a dry pair of shoes for the bike and the run.

 

 Starting off on the same section of the course where I did the pre-ride, a few guys flew by me as I coasted through the soft sand.  Fortunately I was all alone briefly by the narrow part of the trail, so I went super slow and made it through without hitting any trees.  A few rolling ups and downs, and a couple sections alternating between gravel paths and sandy singletrack.  Eventually, I discovered that "sand trenches" mean sections where the trail was worn down into a V shape, so the center of the trail was much lower, and sand was piled high on either side.  The center of the trail was the best path because the sides were loose sand at an awkward angle.  Finally a fallen log, which the race director warned us could be hopped on the far right side or dismounted to cross, which is what I did.  I was in a pack of four at this point, and I called out that I was dismounting and stayed all the way to the left side, where the log was about two feet off the ground.  Two more people behind me did the same, but the guy behind seemed impatient that we were slowing him down.  I was relieved when another guy yelled out, "well maybe you should swim faster next time." 

The second lap was even better, as I kind of knew what to expect.  I got passed right before the narrow part and just grazed a tree with the side of my handlebar, but I held it steady.  I got a lot of encouragement along the way, and everyone was communicating to help each other ride safely.  As I started to panic coasting into a big puddle of mud, the guy behind me kindly yelled at me to keep pedaling.  This was when it really clicked for me that I get better traction in mud or sand if I pedal continuously rather than coasting, which is my natural instinct (like when your car hits a patch of ice or starts to hydroplane in a puddle).  The last section of the bike was a smooth gradual incline where I could see people out on the run course already, so it made for a good sprint to the finish of the bike.  For a quick transition, I chose to bike in my running shoes, so I just had to rack my bike and take off my helmet (Liv Infinita SX MIPS).  I felt great being back on my feet.  I felt strong and fast. 

Looking back...  these photos illustrate everything that's wrong with my running form that has caused knee problems.  I spent the last six months trying to correct my running form, and I think I've made some decent progress, but these photos don't show it at all.  Of course, I'm pretty tired at this point in the race, so maybe it's normal that my form is not great.  My arms are crossing way over my body, my foot is angled so that I'm landing on the outer edge of my foot with the toes angled out, and there's way too much of that awkward kick out to the right side in the back part of my stride.   All things to keep working on. 

But at the time... I was in the moment, having a blast, going through the woods, trying not to trip over stuff, navigating some wobbly boards through the swampy parts, jumping over logs, throwing in short bursts on the little climbs.  I would push myself really hard to catch another runner, then ease off until there was a section of trail suitable to pass someone.  The course passed by the finish line, and the last half mile or so had sections of smooth terrain that were great for pushing the pace, broken up by a little section with some logs to jump over again, then a smooth stretch to the finish. 

1:51:30 must be the longest "sprint" I've ever done.  But I loved every moment, even if just for the sake of spending a cool spring morning in the woods.  From a very interesting, new-to-me type of race, to a very familiar race...

French Creek Triathlon May 20

Our annual family reunion at French Creek did not disappoint.  Volunteering at the kids' races Saturday, staying in the cabins, and hanging out with family made the weekend complete.  

Since most of the people staying in the cabin were volunteering on Sunday morning, I was probably the last one out of bed, but still had plenty of time to load up my transition bag and go for a warm-up bike ride ending at transition all before sunrise.  I set up my space on the "bike out" side of transition, got in a warm-up run, then headed to the lake for a warm-up swim.  Only as I started to put my wetsuit on did I realize that there was a big gash in the leg of the suit since the last time I wore it.  So I swam with part of my thigh hanging out, oh well.  

The swim start felt a little tight.  At the very beginning, I felt myself getting squeezed between two strong swimmers, so I backed off to give myself more space, but I backed off a little too much and couldn't hang onto their draft zone.  Since my swim training was pretty limited in the weeks leading up to this race, I just tried to settle into a rhythm and stay relaxed.  While the course has long enough straightaways so swimmers get spread out before the turns, the only issue was passing people from previous waves, which just requires sighting and awareness.  On the way back, the big yellow arch at the swim exit was a great addition to the race.  However, I focused so much on sighting directly toward the exit that I actually swam right into one of the buoys without even seeing it.  I felt pretty tired getting out of the water, but that's the difference of not having consistent swim training.  If I swim every day, I don't actually go that much faster, but I'm able to swim the same speed without getting quite so tired.

The bike felt good.  The roads were wet and this was my first time racing on carbon wheels, so I didn't ride as aggressively as I could have, especially on the downhills and turns.  I also didn't spend much time in aero, partly because of the nature of the course doesn't have many flat straight sections, but also because I'm still getting used to the feel of the Avow.  I passed a few women along the way, and especially felt strong on the climbs, which were so daunting just a few years ago.  It's amazing what can happen with a lighter bike, learning how to get out of the saddle, and just practicing hills all the time.  

Out on the run, I realized this is the most running on pavement I had done in years.  My return-to-running plan was all on soft surfaces, but I had gradually started to re-introduce pavement when I would run with the middle school track team I coached.  Even though I had done a little bit of hill training, the first mile of the run was a tough climb.  I felt pretty good by the turn-around, but I realized my lead was not that big, so I tried to pick it up on the hill coming out from Scotts Run lake.  The nice long downhill made up for all that suffering.  As I came back toward the finish, I called out to my 10-year-old niece Keira to race me to the finish.  I think she tried, but couldn't keep up for about 200 m.  Keep practicing, Keira.  After the race and hanging out by the food, I had a nice cool down run with my sister Colleen exploring some of the trails along the lake and splashing through some mud.  

I'm proud of another win in the female sprint at French Creek, and 1:22:15 is my best time on this course.  However, my run was only 22:22 for a 5k.  Although this is not an easy course, this is motivation to get my run a little faster.  Since then, I did a local 5k at ETS in Princeton and went 20:52, so it's coming along.  I'm looking forward to a few more sprints and 5k's this year!