Swim: 300m
Cruisy swim along the shore. Hard to follow a good line, and ended up in the shallows, surrounded by people walking, halfway through. Love swimming without a wetsuit on!
Swim + T1 time: 7:23 (T1 was quite long)
Bike: 10km
I used Phil's power meter for the 10k bike along to Buried Village and back. Average power was pretty pathetic (155), but we expect normalised power to be higher, given the undulating course. Passed lots of ladies from earlier waves, and noticed that most of those in front looked like duathletes, who'd started 5 minutes earlier. Calling the ride "flat" is a bit misleading- there was one climb (2 minutes or so) that I needed to use my low gears for. Missed out on my 30km/h goal by a fair margin, averaging about 28.5, but I only got overtaken by one lady, and I knew I'd bring her in on the run.
Bike + T2 time: 23:17
Run: 3km
My pace was about 4:46/k as I exited transition and started trying to catch the woman in front of me. It slowed a lot as I reached the climbs, and it took a lot to bring it back to 5:00/k (on the Garmin; 4:55/k officially...) I got passed by one speedster, and never did catch the girl in front of me, but I stayed near them both the whole way, and we all crossed the finish line within 30-odd seconds of each other.
Run time: 14:43
Overall time: 45:23
I'm painfully slow right now, but I had a great time. It was great to be able to pass people, and actually *race*, instead of lurking at the back, watching dudes in aero helmets lapping me.
Best of all, once the final results came out, it turned out that I'd placed second overall. Sweetbix!
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Hotpotato's off for an epic weekend!
2 days of mountain biking, and a(nother) Blue Lake triathlon!
See you later!
See you later!
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Mafia Twilight Mini-Tri: In Which Kate Has An Epic Spaz
Our new local tri-club runs a series of tri/duathlons during summer. Phil had done a duathlon with them earlier in the season, and we decided both to go along for a spot of racing on Wednesday, after day 3 in New Job. Since I'm "training" for my 3:9:3 in Rotorua next weekend, I decided to stick with the 600/8/2 event, instead of toughing it out and doing 600/16/4. Yep- I've gone from Half IM to lazy cabbage in two short monhts!
We arrived at the race site with a few minutes to spare, registered, and leaned our bikes up against the fence for transition. Then Phil prepared to run, while the other swimmers and I marched 600m down the river to start the swim.
I decided to go wetsuitless as I quite frankly hate my wetsuit and am not convinced that the benefits it gives me outweigh the extra T1 time in a super short race. It was wonderful swimming along and actually feel the water, although I had to keep trying not to think about the pollution Mr I Prosecute the Effluent Dischargers kept moaning about... The river felt clear and fresh and was definitely warm enough to swim without insulation.
Swimming 600m downstream in the Waikato river is not quite the same as swimming 600m across Blue Lake, or doing ten long laps of the Parnell Baths, and the finish arrived before I knew it. Literally- one moment I was following merrily along, then three strokes later I looked up, realised I'd gone too far, and had to swim awkwardly back upstream to get to the beach. No idea of time, as I was data free...
T1 involved a massive run up a decent enough sized hill, so it took for bloody ever, but there were still plenty of bikes left when I got out. I couldn't be stuffed piddling about with the garmin, so I just went for it. I passed a couple of ladies early on, then leapfrogged with a few big rugby players on hybrids for awhile (how embarrassing!!!) It's a mostly flat course, with a couple of wee "power up" hills, and one slightly longer hill that I actually had to move into climbing mode for. The main complicating factor is a right hand turn onto a busy-ish road near the beginning, but I was lucky, and squeaked through with someone else. The 8k course went on for slightly longer than I expected, since I had no concept of time or distance, but before too long I was back in T1 with just one other bike...
Even though I knew most people wouldn't be doing the super mini distance, I felt a little odd arriving back in transition without anyone around, and was sure someone would come over and shout at me for missing some loop or other. But they didn't, so I slid my shoes on and hit the run, again, without bothering to put the Garmin on.
I knew the run was a simple out and back along the river trail. Easy. So I took off at a reasonable clip, planning to knock out a fast k, then suffer back! Only the turnaround never came. I was 90% certain I was headed in the right direction, but there was no-one out there, and I felt utterly isolated and confused. It was hard to keep running hard with that massive mental blockage in my mind, but I kept it up, darting my head around for signs that I was on the right track. Before too long, I passed the swim entrance, which I knew was about 600m, so I kept heading along, knowing I was around half way. But, ages and ages later, I still hadn't seen anything, so I ran another 400 steps, and called it quits. I turned around, and started walking, then jogging home. As I jogged, I eventually saw people coming the other way, and realised I had been going the right way, but I had no idea whether I'd passed the turnaround or not, so I was already gunning for a DNF, so I kept up the jog, feeling utterly daft whenever anyone gave me an arm pump or a congratulatory greeting. Finally, after what seemed like forever, I was back at the transition area, where I slowed to a walk, and headed to the race director, away from the finish line. As I headed up the final stretch, the young girl who must have been ahead of me the whole time passed me to take out the baby-tri race, which suggests that:
- I hadn't actually hit the 2k turnaround, as I hadn't seen her before, and I assume she was the owner of the hybrid
- I could have taken her 12-year old self out if I'd kept running and chased her down!
What a mucking fuppet!
Despite the mishaps, it was a fantastic race. I'll be back again in a fortnight, and I won't pansy out and do the baby race, so I'll have some company!
We arrived at the race site with a few minutes to spare, registered, and leaned our bikes up against the fence for transition. Then Phil prepared to run, while the other swimmers and I marched 600m down the river to start the swim.
I decided to go wetsuitless as I quite frankly hate my wetsuit and am not convinced that the benefits it gives me outweigh the extra T1 time in a super short race. It was wonderful swimming along and actually feel the water, although I had to keep trying not to think about the pollution Mr I Prosecute the Effluent Dischargers kept moaning about... The river felt clear and fresh and was definitely warm enough to swim without insulation.
Swimming 600m downstream in the Waikato river is not quite the same as swimming 600m across Blue Lake, or doing ten long laps of the Parnell Baths, and the finish arrived before I knew it. Literally- one moment I was following merrily along, then three strokes later I looked up, realised I'd gone too far, and had to swim awkwardly back upstream to get to the beach. No idea of time, as I was data free...
T1 involved a massive run up a decent enough sized hill, so it took for bloody ever, but there were still plenty of bikes left when I got out. I couldn't be stuffed piddling about with the garmin, so I just went for it. I passed a couple of ladies early on, then leapfrogged with a few big rugby players on hybrids for awhile (how embarrassing!!!) It's a mostly flat course, with a couple of wee "power up" hills, and one slightly longer hill that I actually had to move into climbing mode for. The main complicating factor is a right hand turn onto a busy-ish road near the beginning, but I was lucky, and squeaked through with someone else. The 8k course went on for slightly longer than I expected, since I had no concept of time or distance, but before too long I was back in T1 with just one other bike...
Even though I knew most people wouldn't be doing the super mini distance, I felt a little odd arriving back in transition without anyone around, and was sure someone would come over and shout at me for missing some loop or other. But they didn't, so I slid my shoes on and hit the run, again, without bothering to put the Garmin on.
I knew the run was a simple out and back along the river trail. Easy. So I took off at a reasonable clip, planning to knock out a fast k, then suffer back! Only the turnaround never came. I was 90% certain I was headed in the right direction, but there was no-one out there, and I felt utterly isolated and confused. It was hard to keep running hard with that massive mental blockage in my mind, but I kept it up, darting my head around for signs that I was on the right track. Before too long, I passed the swim entrance, which I knew was about 600m, so I kept heading along, knowing I was around half way. But, ages and ages later, I still hadn't seen anything, so I ran another 400 steps, and called it quits. I turned around, and started walking, then jogging home. As I jogged, I eventually saw people coming the other way, and realised I had been going the right way, but I had no idea whether I'd passed the turnaround or not, so I was already gunning for a DNF, so I kept up the jog, feeling utterly daft whenever anyone gave me an arm pump or a congratulatory greeting. Finally, after what seemed like forever, I was back at the transition area, where I slowed to a walk, and headed to the race director, away from the finish line. As I headed up the final stretch, the young girl who must have been ahead of me the whole time passed me to take out the baby-tri race, which suggests that:
- I hadn't actually hit the 2k turnaround, as I hadn't seen her before, and I assume she was the owner of the hybrid
- I could have taken her 12-year old self out if I'd kept running and chased her down!
What a mucking fuppet!
Despite the mishaps, it was a fantastic race. I'll be back again in a fortnight, and I won't pansy out and do the baby race, so I'll have some company!
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Progress
We're settling in in Cambridge, staying at Phil's parents' place until our ghastly subdivision house becomes available next weekend. I'm not starting work until Monday, so I've been spending my days with my friend from Welly who's also just moved up, swimming, walking the dogs, drinking flat whites and generally enjoying the Waikato summer, while trying to take care of the list. So, here's how it's all going...
# Enter Rotovegas Triwoman Tri Yay! Racing here I come
# Start training again. Properly...I'm swimming with a friend, cycling for transport, and riding a bit with Phil. But "properly" isn't quite the word.
# Lose Belgian-beer and frites and Danish pastry pudge once and for all
# Find a home (..yup, kinda a priority) It's in a ghastly subdivision, and it's brick, but it's clean and sunny, and it's got all we need. And it's ours from next week, and it's certain, and that's what counts
# Think about goals for 2010 race season
# Email coach
# Get every piece of work clothing dry cleaned
# Get hair cut, lashes dyed and brows shaped (well, appointments have been made...)
# Confirm start time with new employer
# Plan sister's hen's night
# Hit up the Whakarewarewa trails
# Celebrate 28th birthday (..really, this is on Phil's to do list!)
# Find a home (did I say that already??)
# Upload Europe, Parts III, IV and V to facebook
# Arrange flights for stepfather's birthday
#NEW: Arrange driving lessons
#NEW: Unearth hairdryer and straightener
# Lose Belgian-beer and frites and Danish pastry pudge once and for all
# Think about goals for 2010 race season
# Email coach
# Plan sister's hen's night
# Hit up the Whakarewarewa trails
# Celebrate 28th birthday (..really, this is on Phil's to do list!)
# Upload Europe, Parts III, IV and V to facebook
#NEW: Arrange driving lessons
#NEW: Unearth hairdryer and straightener
Monday, February 01, 2010
The Great Post Europe Return to Real Life To Do List
- Enter Rotovegas Triwoman Tri
- Start training again. Properly
- Lose Belgian-beer and frites and Danish pastry pudge once and for all
- Find a home (..yup, kinda a priority)
- Think about goals for 2010 race season
- Email coach
- Get every piece of work clothing dry cleaned
- Get hair cut, lashes dyed and brows shaped
- Confirm start time with new employer
- Plan sister's hen's night
- Hit up the Whakarewarewa trails
- Celebrate 28th birthday (..really, this is on Phil's to do list!)
- Find a home (did I say that already??)
- Upload Europe, Parts III, IV and V to facebook
- Arrange flights for stepfather's birthday
...and then...
- catch up on blog(s)
See you soon, dudes!
Friday, December 25, 2009
Hot Potato's Grand Adventures
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Hot Potato's Grand Adventures
After Saturday's half ironman, we spent a cruisy morning in Rotovegas, eating curry for morning tea (as you do...) and picnicking with Jenn and Damian at Redwoods(if you thought it was windy at Tikitapu on Saturday, you should have seen Sunday!!!)
Then we drove to Cambridge, where we unpacked the tri-stuff from the car, before driving back up to Auckland, for a romantic, goodbye Jaffa-land, dinner at Non Solo Pizza in Parnell. On Monday I spent the morning at work, tidying the office and sorting 5 years' worth of sent emails, while Phil started packing, and ran some errands. Then we packed up our whole apartment into the back of the station wagon (..it was furnished, so very little furniture), cleaned it al out, and drove back to Cambridge on Tuesday morning, running a few painful pre-Xmas and pre-travel errands on the way. We unloaded the car at Phil's (patient) parents' place, packed up his travelling suitcase, and drove back to Auckland, all the while trying to sort things out with the landlord and carpet cleaners. We arrived in the early evening, had drinks and dinner with Phil's sister, then spent a final, sheetless night in the apartment, before leaving for good at 6:30 on Wednesday morning.
Now we're 2 days into 5 weeks of travel, sitting in Incheon Airport (Seoul), enjoying yet another random Cornfield Christmas. From here, it's London, Bled, Ljubljana, Munich, Brussels, Antwerp, Bruges, Rotterdam, Amsterdam, Copenhagen, Barcelona, and London again! So posting, and training, will be sporadic, but I'l see you again in 2010 for volume three, Hotpotato: Taking on The Tron.
Merry Christmas, and happy training!
Hot Potato's Grand Adventures
After Saturday's half ironman, we spent a cruisy morning in Rotovegas, eating curry for morning tea (as you do...) and picnicking with Jenn and Damian at Redwoods(if you thought it was windy at Tikitapu on Saturday, you should have seen Sunday!!!)
Then we drove to Cambridge, where we unpacked the tri-stuff from the car, before driving back up to Auckland, for a romantic, goodbye Jaffa-land, dinner at Non Solo Pizza in Parnell. On Monday I spent the morning at work, tidying the office and sorting 5 years' worth of sent emails, while Phil started packing, and ran some errands. Then we packed up our whole apartment into the back of the station wagon (..it was furnished, so very little furniture), cleaned it al out, and drove back to Cambridge on Tuesday morning, running a few painful pre-Xmas and pre-travel errands on the way. We unloaded the car at Phil's (patient) parents' place, packed up his travelling suitcase, and drove back to Auckland, all the while trying to sort things out with the landlord and carpet cleaners. We arrived in the early evening, had drinks and dinner with Phil's sister, then spent a final, sheetless night in the apartment, before leaving for good at 6:30 on Wednesday morning.
Now we're 2 days into 5 weeks of travel, sitting in Incheon Airport (Seoul), enjoying yet another random Cornfield Christmas. From here, it's London, Bled, Ljubljana, Munich, Brussels, Antwerp, Bruges, Rotterdam, Amsterdam, Copenhagen, Barcelona, and London again! So posting, and training, will be sporadic, but I'l see you again in 2010 for volume three, Hotpotato: Taking on The Tron.
Merry Christmas, and happy training!
Monday, December 21, 2009
Race Report: Rotorua Half Ironman, and my second attempt at sub-6
Warning: Long. Detailed. No jokes or pictures.
This year's Rotorua Half Ironman was success in every way that matters- if not so much in terms of time.
We arrived in Rotorua on Friday afternoon, having spent the morning getting chores done in Auckland and Cambridge, and once again checked ourselves into an ensuite log cabin at the Rotorua Thermal holiday park. I absolutely adore it here, and am forever grateful to Kathy and Paul for recommending it for our pre-race stay last year! Once again, we had a great swim in the lake which was definitely a little colder than last time, but not too cold (and certainly not as head-tighteningly, penetratingly chilly as the Contact race in late November), a quick ride on the, once again, road kill littered run course (which I will be riding in my women's tri next year- all 9.5 k of it!!!), then headed to registration.
It was pretty windy, and I remarked to Phil as we loaded our bikes back onto the roof (read: Phil loaded the bikes, and I pretended to be useful by passing him cloths and taking the wheels off him) that "at least in Rotorua the wind doesn't usually pick up until later in the day".
Big mistake.
Once again, Jenn and Damian drove up (/over) from New Plymouth to cheer and sherpa, so we enjoyed a very brief "Christmas" with them before heading to the hot pools (some of the best Holiday Park pools ever), and settling back to drink tea and eat Jenn's fantastic homemade blondies (basically like a chocolate chip cookie merged with a brownie- I ask you, what could be better??) I slept MUCH better than I did last year (still a little restless, but without that maddening "nervous. can't sleep. stressed out." feeling), but, once again, 3:30am came too damn quickly. It was chilly at the campground, but in that way that 3:30am tends to be, especially in the central North Island! We ate our porridge (with dates, cinnamon, LSA and brown sugar) sloooowly and about 4:30 headed back to the cabin to get dressed and head to the race site.
It was FREEZING. My normally cosy "Arthurs Half" 2XU jacket was no match for the bitter breeze that was whipping around Lake Tikitapu and I regretted saying to Phil the previous day "it's so much easier packing for a triathlon in summer- none of this effing about with polys and gloves and cosy socks." Tell you one thing- I'd have given my right arm for beanie and a pair of cosy socks yesterday morning (well- maybe something else, the right arm comes in kinda handy for swimming, and holding my body on the bike!) The area was pretty quiet when we arrived, and it felt like we had heaps of time, but once we'd fiddled about with tyres, including a last minute rear wheel tube change after Phil realised it was one of the crappy ones with a short nozzle, so neither my pit-stop nor my CO2 gun would work with it. Then, after we'd put the bike on the rack, Damian THANKFULLY realised that we'd put the wheel on too tight and it wasn't spinning. Thank you FBIL- I'd have lost it if I'd discovered that in T1!!
I remarked to Damian and Jenn that it might not be such a day for PBs after all. The wind was stirring the lake up, and definitely felt like it would get in the way on the bike, especially with a 10m draft zone! But to be honest, I didn't really believe it would be a problem, especially given the gains I've made on the bike this year. Then, the race director said at briefing we'd have a lovely tail wind bringing us back on the bike. In hindsight, I wonder if my "piss-taking sensor" skills were on the blink??
Swim- 39:49
It's a deep water start, and the men start 5 minutes before the women. It was a bit messy this year, probably because people resisted taking off their top layers for as long as possible, and when the whistle went, there was a pause before a big chunk of the field left, and still lots of stragglers running in from the beach. I think the one good thing about being a female triathlete is that it's much harder to miss your swim start!
It was really hard to figure out where the start line was meant to be, impossible to hear the anouncer over the wind and the choppy lake, and absolutely impossible to see the first buoy- 900m from the start! I have finally started racing in contacts this year, but the buoys on this swim course were easier to see when I was swimming blind!!
Getting out to the 900m buoy wasn't too bad. It was a bit messy at times, and hard to sight, but it was also just in a fairly straight line from where we started, so not too hard to go by feel. I could tell I wasn't swimming fast, but I was passing people, and catching drafts off the occasional pair of feet. Made it out there in around 17:00, which is a bit av, but what I expected given how it felt. The way back? a whole nother story. I had no freakin idea where the second buoy was, and it seemed like no-one else did either! Swim hats everywhere! I also started cursing Hooksie's policy of "byo swim cap" (fundamentally, I am a BIG supporter of this one; I have enough shitty latex caps as it is)- I wanted to know whether I was passing or drafting off women (good thing) or very slow men (bad thing)! I muddled through as best I could, but I suspect a Kate tracking GPS would be all over the show! The waves were also dragging us around in strange ways, and people would go from my left to my right to my left again within a matter of minutes. Finally, I caught site of the buoy from a couple of hundred metres away. It was great to have something to aim for again! Rounded the second buoy, and pushed the final 200m to the third buoy (although, I unfortunately swam over a boat ramp in the process. Ow.) I emerged from the water at 39:18, dazed and frustrated, but not too unhappy with the swim, and crossed the swim timing mat in 39:58, official time 39:49.
Reluctant brickbats to Hooksie and co for the inadequate buoys. I don't know what went wrong, but it was an absolute shocker. Those wee yellow buoys are fine when they're 200m apart, but not when there's 900m between buoys, especially when they're on a diagonal.
T1 was uneventful, and not too slow. Jenn and Damian cheered us up the beach with homemade signs, which was AWESOME. I had a brief chat to some of the dudes around me (I love this race, because there are DUDES around me- such a nice change from the hyper-competitive olympic distance events!), got my helmet, shoes and Garmin on, and raced out to the mount line, where I was promptly blocked by some muppet who didn't bother to think before he stopped to get on.
Bike- 3:24
I felt much more hardcore than last year, with aero bars and Mike's old aero helmet (which has really done the rounds now!). Oh- and the fact that I had two drink bottles filled with replace on my bike, instead of a big uncool Camelbak. It's the little things ;) I felt like a poser in the aero helmet, but I figured it would encourage me to spend more time in the aero position, so I would just have to handle the jandal. In terms of data, I eventually decided not to mount the Garmin on the handlebars, and instead to ride by feel, with the occasional look at the wrist to check average pace, HR and cadence. I must admit, I quite like riding without too much data- it definitely helped me in the Contact race, although if I'd had readily accessible cadence info in Tinman, maybe my average wouldn't have been 99!
I passed a couple of dudes up Tarawera on the way out, but kept it pretty easy, and made sure I started drinking pretty much straight away. Of course, pretty much everyone passed me back on the descent- I'm quite happy to do it at 65-70kph, thankyouverymuch! The ride out to the turn off was great. Good roads. Good aero position. Keeping up the drinking. Munching on mini bagels with PB. I was averaging a little over 31km/h, but keeping it easy, as I knew the return leg would be a b*tch, even with the promised tail winds!
Daryl Bloomfield, who organises the (I must add, AWESOME) Scorching series in Wellington passed me either just before or just after the turn off to Whakatane. Last year, he passed me early in the bike, and I didn't catch him until the gun club. He's a tall, well-built dude, and can really nail the flats and downhills, but that size is not really an asset for a hard, hilly, run. This year, I decided to stick with him. I passed him on the first wee climb (up Hell's Gate on the way out), and didn't see him again for a little while, but he can't ever have been too far behind, as he caught me again sometime a few minutes later.
I had decided to try out the bottle stop this year, so ditched my "She Triwoman" bottle just before the 30k mark (damn thing deserved to be ditched, as that was the single most disappointing and utterly unprofessional triathlon experience I have ever had... ) Then I slowed to grab a water from the first little dude I saw. And failed. Then slowed more. But chickened out at the last minute. I almost always keep my left hand on my bike, except when indicating, and, even then, taking it off still makes me nervous. Something to work on- maybe I should practice left hand drinking next year. Eventually I decided I'd have to actually stop, so I slowed down and unclipped at the next water bottle swapper. Embarrassing!!! Bouquet to the bottle stop people (and to all the other fabulicious 'Vegas volunteer crew members), again- those dudes are awesome.
Daryl passed me on the first wee hill after the bottle swap (I had no momentum at all) at the same time as some winner decided to pass me on the left. Dbag- there was no need for lefthand passing in this race (in Tinman it was hard to avoid), and although I was probably being a little annoying (drinking, shifting, sorting myself out), a little patience doesn't go amiss. Being sandwiched between two bikes is not cool at all!
I started mentally calculating when I should expect to see the top guys. They'd have had a good 20 minutes on me out of the swim, and they'd have been nailing it along the flat and rolling hills out to the turn off. I figured it would be between my 30 and my 35. At 32.7km, I saw the first dude, but didn't see the second dude for another k! Then I saw the first chick. Phil had some lofty goal of beating the ladies (optimistic, but not too crazy, actually, given his goals and the top female times from last year), but when I saw first lady within the top 10-20 dudes (I think..) I knew she'd be caning him (...which she was). I could tell at this point that the return jouney might not be as fun as I'd thought- the top guys certainly looked like they were working into the wind. That made me up the effort a wee bit, to try to buy some time. I made sure I stayed aero most of the time after seeing the first 20 or so guys. I knew he wouldn't be up there, but I wasn't risking having him catching me upright! (he doesn't believe I spent any time at all in the aero bars at Tinman, but I promise I did!) I saw him in about the same place I saw him last time (it was my 39.5k), but I knew we were both doing better.
I reached the turnaround in 1:31, and started the return journey full of optimism. Basically, I was imagining myself texting everyone after the race to tell them about my sub6 finish and half-hour pb. Hah!
Of course, I hit the headwinds before too long, and the long battle started. Hell's Gate became something to look forward to, as it would signal a break from the wind, and a new stage of the course, but it was still a good 20k away. I had a bit of a mental shut down as I rode around the lakes on the way towards the next landmarks, the 60k bottle stop and the Hell's Gate climb. I found myself drifting into random day dreams about next year, when I remembered that instead of thinking about awesome things, it was probably a good time to be doing some awesome things, so I put pedal to metal and tried to pick up the pace a bit. To no avail.
Hell's Gate hurt much less than it did last year, but it still hurt. I would love to say it's because I'm fitter and awesomer, but I suspect it's at least partly attributable to my 25. And to think I wasn't sure I wanted it! I passed four people on the way up, including Daryl, who by this time had certainly recognised the friendly competition we had going, and managed to up the gears for the descent comparatively quickly after I crested it (ps- man, that hill has one long crest!)
Sub 3 was long since out of reach, but I wanted to finish the "Hell's Gate to bottom of Tarawera" leg at an average of 30km/h, to salvage some sort of respectable time. Again- hah! I was freakin dreaming! But I did manage to stick near my triplets, Jim, Dave and Daryl, who were all wearing this year's jersey with dark shorts. Daryl had quite an edge on me between Hell's Gate and the turn-off, but he was still dimly in sight, and I knew I just had to pick off Jim and Dave (it's pretty sad when the people you're picking off are old, paunchy dudes, but at least this year they were younger and less paunchy, and at least it was me doing the picking off, not vice versa!) I leapfrogged with Jim for a while- pretty intensely. It was a lot of passing and passing back, and I suspect we were both getting on each other's nerves, but I think it meant we caught Dave, and then Daryl more quickly.
Although the winds were all kinds of nasty- not strong by Welly standards, but soul-sappingly consistent- I didn't feel the intense fade last year, and I still had knees to ride with after Hell's Gate. I was being passed, but keeping up with my buddies, and passing the odd person (including the woman on the HYBRID, who seriously rocked that ride!!!!) meant I was nowhere near as demoralised as last year, even as I watched my shameful last year's time become reality again. In my worst nightmares about the race, I never imagined that happening! The Lynmore turn-off arrived much quicker than last year (although it took even longer to get there), and I hoofed it up there, behind Jim and Daryl, and a few other ride buddies.
Tarawera Road was once again a complete sufferfest, but nothing like the pain it was last year. I span past Jim, and then Daryl, and laughed when Jim asked me what cogs I had that he didn't- a compact with a granny 25 on the back comes in handy sometimes! Cruising past Daryl seemed to spur him on, which spurred me on, and we battled up the hill, and along the rest of the road back to T2.
I lost my bike in T2, but luckily had half iron sherpas Jenn and Damian yelling at me, so I found it after not too much dazed circling! As I ran out, I noticed another Wellington legend who featured significantly in my race last year, Ann Bondy. Last year, I raced against Ann (who is decades older than me, and an absolute inspiration) in quite a few events, although I'm sure she wouldn't have known it. Basically, I beat her on the swim, she catches me on the bike, and wipes the floor with me, and I spend the run hunting her down. Last year, she caught me on the flat not far from the turn off on the way back, and although I caught her on the run, eventually, she only finished a couple of minutes behind me. Having Ann and Daryl there helped me to accept that this year's 3:24 was actually a vast improvement on last year's, and that I had to head onto the run feeling like a champ, not a dismal failure.
Time: 3:24
Average speed: 26.1 km/h
Average cadence: 86 or so (91 for the first half.. a shocking 81 for the second half!)
Average heart rate: 164
Top speed: 62km/h (disappointingly chickenshit down Tarawera)
Run- 2:06
After Arthur's Half, I had high hopes of running a sub-2:00 half off the bike this year, but I knew that with all the offroad time, the heat, and the hills, that taking 13 minutes off last year's time was going to be a big ask, even with improved bike fitness and, y'know, actually having knees this year! So I'd settled on a goal of around 2:06, which is around 6:00/k. As I started the run, I felt like this was doable, but a minute into it, when I hit the first wee climb on the bush track I started to doubt it! I got passed by a few teamsters, and passed a couple of people in the bush, but it was a pretty lonely 3km/20 minutes!
Emerging from the bush was a bit of a double-edged sword. It was great to get off the trails, to have some company (read: targets) again, and to see the rest of the race going by, but it was stonking hot! Definitely hotter than last year, right from the get go. I was living from water station to water station, and by the end was getting two cups, drinking one slooowly, and tipping the other over my head.
I kept myself sane by pressing the lap button at particular landmarks, or, in some cases, just randomly. That way, the 6:15 for the first go at the bush track was a distant memory for the 4:52/km cruise down the road from the lookout, and up most of the way to the gun club turn off! The gun club section is horrible, but also a very good section for a shite cyclist/decent enough runner like me, because on the way out, you basically get to see everyone who might remotely be in your "passing zone", and on the way back, you get to see just how far back all those people you left in T2 or passed in the early stages are!
It was good to see Mike running back along the gun club road, a good distance ahead of me, but he wasn't feeling great. I didn't realise just how shite he was feeling until much later though. I didn't really think I could catch him, so focussed on picking off the ladies in front of me, most of whom were team runners after the gun club turnaround cone. I saw Mike again coming through the buried village, and this time he said "you'll pass me for sure". I still didn't think I had a hope in Hades (...what it felt like out on the run...), until I got to the lookout, with two of my team cyclist-runner pals, and saw that I was less than 700m behind him (it had been about 350m since I'd seen him, and I guessed that I was travelling faster).
The "lookout back to beach" stretch felt long, as usual, especially once I got to the bush-lookout area, where we started to mingle with speedies again. I was feeling pretty rubbish, but moving faster than almost everyone else helped me to ignore the heat, and the pain, and to keep moving. There were people walking everywhere, and a couple of middle aged men called out as I went past "oh no, I'm being passed by another young woman, do you have any idea what that does to my ego???" I wanted to reply "dude- if yo' gonna walk, yo' gonna be passed!"
I got passed (!) by a mega fit looking, quite a lot older than me, lady at the drinks station, and actually thought she was on her second loop, but she gave me someone to try to hold onto as we neared the beach again. Then I saw Mike in the distance. I wanted to stop and crawl or walk or cry, but I told myself I couldn't walk a step until I passed Mike-I still didn't think it would happen, so I was really just saying to myself "don't walk!"
As we approached the beach, my right inner thigh (just above my knee) cramped horribly, and I let out a wee yelp. I imagined heading straight into the finish without doing the godawful second loop, but soon realised I'd be explaining a 1:20-something half-M off a 3:24 bike. Uhhh- not likely!! So I sucked it up, and finally edged past Mike near the toilets.
Jenn, Damian and Phil were cheering as I ran past. I rolled my eyes and gave them a big double thumbs down! Phil looked totally chillaxed, and I wondered if he had met his goal of going sub5? The finish clock read 5:45, which was 5:40-lady time, so I knew sub 6, and sub 6:10 were out of the question- I've never managed to run the loop track in under 30 (although I'm confident I could if I ran it straight), especially not the hard way (anticlockwise). I hit the lap button again, and headed back in.
The second loop in the bush was even harder, but luckily there were still people to pass- both people racing with me who were fading and walking, and people who were heading out for their first loop. Poor bastards! There were also lots of spectators, and unsuspecting victims out for their Saturday walks, all of whom were great with the cheers and claps, and thankfully short on the patronising encouragement! Earlier, I'd been a box of fluffy ducks- yarning with volunteers and my fellow gorillas, calling out effusive thanks to the cheering spectators, but by this stage, all I could muster was a pathetic thumbs up. My thigh kept twinging for the first couple of ks, and my achilles (which had also niggled a little on the bike) started threatening to misbehave. I'd missed the finish/transition area drink stop, and could feel it. I ended up stopping to walk up a longish, but not that steep, hill, for ten, then twenty, then fifty paces, before I slapped my CG and pushed back into a gammy run. My pace was abysmally, embarrassingly slow, but I soon overtook my new friend (who had only been on her first lap before), and my old friend, beige contact t-shirt dude. We stayed together for awhile, but they both passed me back before we'd left the bush, which seemed to go on forever. It feels so much longer anticlockwise!
Even though I didn't have much left, I walked for another drink and splash at the final aid station, and started a new lap for the 2-odd ks back to the finish. I was pretty sure I had a solid PB sewn up, and that I'd be seeing an improved run time, but it was hard to tell, with limited and muddled Garmin data. My pace for the last "leg" was 5:32/km, and I crossed the finish mat at 6:21 race time, 6:16 lady-time, for a 2:06 half marathon, and a ten minute PB.
I accepted my medal (and some teasing! I was famous for all of ten seconds) from Hooksie, accepted a warm Export Gold from a volunteer, and accepted a hug from my Phil. As soon as Phil told me about his times, and his experience on the bike, I knew I was right, and that I could take this 10-minute PB as something much more. One day I will master this race, and I am such a masochist that I will be back for more until I do!
This year's Rotorua Half Ironman was success in every way that matters- if not so much in terms of time.
We arrived in Rotorua on Friday afternoon, having spent the morning getting chores done in Auckland and Cambridge, and once again checked ourselves into an ensuite log cabin at the Rotorua Thermal holiday park. I absolutely adore it here, and am forever grateful to Kathy and Paul for recommending it for our pre-race stay last year! Once again, we had a great swim in the lake which was definitely a little colder than last time, but not too cold (and certainly not as head-tighteningly, penetratingly chilly as the Contact race in late November), a quick ride on the, once again, road kill littered run course (which I will be riding in my women's tri next year- all 9.5 k of it!!!), then headed to registration.
It was pretty windy, and I remarked to Phil as we loaded our bikes back onto the roof (read: Phil loaded the bikes, and I pretended to be useful by passing him cloths and taking the wheels off him) that "at least in Rotorua the wind doesn't usually pick up until later in the day".
Big mistake.
Once again, Jenn and Damian drove up (/over) from New Plymouth to cheer and sherpa, so we enjoyed a very brief "Christmas" with them before heading to the hot pools (some of the best Holiday Park pools ever), and settling back to drink tea and eat Jenn's fantastic homemade blondies (basically like a chocolate chip cookie merged with a brownie- I ask you, what could be better??) I slept MUCH better than I did last year (still a little restless, but without that maddening "nervous. can't sleep. stressed out." feeling), but, once again, 3:30am came too damn quickly. It was chilly at the campground, but in that way that 3:30am tends to be, especially in the central North Island! We ate our porridge (with dates, cinnamon, LSA and brown sugar) sloooowly and about 4:30 headed back to the cabin to get dressed and head to the race site.
It was FREEZING. My normally cosy "Arthurs Half" 2XU jacket was no match for the bitter breeze that was whipping around Lake Tikitapu and I regretted saying to Phil the previous day "it's so much easier packing for a triathlon in summer- none of this effing about with polys and gloves and cosy socks." Tell you one thing- I'd have given my right arm for beanie and a pair of cosy socks yesterday morning (well- maybe something else, the right arm comes in kinda handy for swimming, and holding my body on the bike!) The area was pretty quiet when we arrived, and it felt like we had heaps of time, but once we'd fiddled about with tyres, including a last minute rear wheel tube change after Phil realised it was one of the crappy ones with a short nozzle, so neither my pit-stop nor my CO2 gun would work with it. Then, after we'd put the bike on the rack, Damian THANKFULLY realised that we'd put the wheel on too tight and it wasn't spinning. Thank you FBIL- I'd have lost it if I'd discovered that in T1!!
I remarked to Damian and Jenn that it might not be such a day for PBs after all. The wind was stirring the lake up, and definitely felt like it would get in the way on the bike, especially with a 10m draft zone! But to be honest, I didn't really believe it would be a problem, especially given the gains I've made on the bike this year. Then, the race director said at briefing we'd have a lovely tail wind bringing us back on the bike. In hindsight, I wonder if my "piss-taking sensor" skills were on the blink??
Swim- 39:49
It's a deep water start, and the men start 5 minutes before the women. It was a bit messy this year, probably because people resisted taking off their top layers for as long as possible, and when the whistle went, there was a pause before a big chunk of the field left, and still lots of stragglers running in from the beach. I think the one good thing about being a female triathlete is that it's much harder to miss your swim start!
It was really hard to figure out where the start line was meant to be, impossible to hear the anouncer over the wind and the choppy lake, and absolutely impossible to see the first buoy- 900m from the start! I have finally started racing in contacts this year, but the buoys on this swim course were easier to see when I was swimming blind!!
Getting out to the 900m buoy wasn't too bad. It was a bit messy at times, and hard to sight, but it was also just in a fairly straight line from where we started, so not too hard to go by feel. I could tell I wasn't swimming fast, but I was passing people, and catching drafts off the occasional pair of feet. Made it out there in around 17:00, which is a bit av, but what I expected given how it felt. The way back? a whole nother story. I had no freakin idea where the second buoy was, and it seemed like no-one else did either! Swim hats everywhere! I also started cursing Hooksie's policy of "byo swim cap" (fundamentally, I am a BIG supporter of this one; I have enough shitty latex caps as it is)- I wanted to know whether I was passing or drafting off women (good thing) or very slow men (bad thing)! I muddled through as best I could, but I suspect a Kate tracking GPS would be all over the show! The waves were also dragging us around in strange ways, and people would go from my left to my right to my left again within a matter of minutes. Finally, I caught site of the buoy from a couple of hundred metres away. It was great to have something to aim for again! Rounded the second buoy, and pushed the final 200m to the third buoy (although, I unfortunately swam over a boat ramp in the process. Ow.) I emerged from the water at 39:18, dazed and frustrated, but not too unhappy with the swim, and crossed the swim timing mat in 39:58, official time 39:49.
Reluctant brickbats to Hooksie and co for the inadequate buoys. I don't know what went wrong, but it was an absolute shocker. Those wee yellow buoys are fine when they're 200m apart, but not when there's 900m between buoys, especially when they're on a diagonal.
T1 was uneventful, and not too slow. Jenn and Damian cheered us up the beach with homemade signs, which was AWESOME. I had a brief chat to some of the dudes around me (I love this race, because there are DUDES around me- such a nice change from the hyper-competitive olympic distance events!), got my helmet, shoes and Garmin on, and raced out to the mount line, where I was promptly blocked by some muppet who didn't bother to think before he stopped to get on.
Bike- 3:24
I felt much more hardcore than last year, with aero bars and Mike's old aero helmet (which has really done the rounds now!). Oh- and the fact that I had two drink bottles filled with replace on my bike, instead of a big uncool Camelbak. It's the little things ;) I felt like a poser in the aero helmet, but I figured it would encourage me to spend more time in the aero position, so I would just have to handle the jandal. In terms of data, I eventually decided not to mount the Garmin on the handlebars, and instead to ride by feel, with the occasional look at the wrist to check average pace, HR and cadence. I must admit, I quite like riding without too much data- it definitely helped me in the Contact race, although if I'd had readily accessible cadence info in Tinman, maybe my average wouldn't have been 99!
I passed a couple of dudes up Tarawera on the way out, but kept it pretty easy, and made sure I started drinking pretty much straight away. Of course, pretty much everyone passed me back on the descent- I'm quite happy to do it at 65-70kph, thankyouverymuch! The ride out to the turn off was great. Good roads. Good aero position. Keeping up the drinking. Munching on mini bagels with PB. I was averaging a little over 31km/h, but keeping it easy, as I knew the return leg would be a b*tch, even with the promised tail winds!
Daryl Bloomfield, who organises the (I must add, AWESOME) Scorching series in Wellington passed me either just before or just after the turn off to Whakatane. Last year, he passed me early in the bike, and I didn't catch him until the gun club. He's a tall, well-built dude, and can really nail the flats and downhills, but that size is not really an asset for a hard, hilly, run. This year, I decided to stick with him. I passed him on the first wee climb (up Hell's Gate on the way out), and didn't see him again for a little while, but he can't ever have been too far behind, as he caught me again sometime a few minutes later.
I had decided to try out the bottle stop this year, so ditched my "She Triwoman" bottle just before the 30k mark (damn thing deserved to be ditched, as that was the single most disappointing and utterly unprofessional triathlon experience I have ever had... ) Then I slowed to grab a water from the first little dude I saw. And failed. Then slowed more. But chickened out at the last minute. I almost always keep my left hand on my bike, except when indicating, and, even then, taking it off still makes me nervous. Something to work on- maybe I should practice left hand drinking next year. Eventually I decided I'd have to actually stop, so I slowed down and unclipped at the next water bottle swapper. Embarrassing!!! Bouquet to the bottle stop people (and to all the other fabulicious 'Vegas volunteer crew members), again- those dudes are awesome.
Daryl passed me on the first wee hill after the bottle swap (I had no momentum at all) at the same time as some winner decided to pass me on the left. Dbag- there was no need for lefthand passing in this race (in Tinman it was hard to avoid), and although I was probably being a little annoying (drinking, shifting, sorting myself out), a little patience doesn't go amiss. Being sandwiched between two bikes is not cool at all!
I started mentally calculating when I should expect to see the top guys. They'd have had a good 20 minutes on me out of the swim, and they'd have been nailing it along the flat and rolling hills out to the turn off. I figured it would be between my 30 and my 35. At 32.7km, I saw the first dude, but didn't see the second dude for another k! Then I saw the first chick. Phil had some lofty goal of beating the ladies (optimistic, but not too crazy, actually, given his goals and the top female times from last year), but when I saw first lady within the top 10-20 dudes (I think..) I knew she'd be caning him (...which she was). I could tell at this point that the return jouney might not be as fun as I'd thought- the top guys certainly looked like they were working into the wind. That made me up the effort a wee bit, to try to buy some time. I made sure I stayed aero most of the time after seeing the first 20 or so guys. I knew he wouldn't be up there, but I wasn't risking having him catching me upright! (he doesn't believe I spent any time at all in the aero bars at Tinman, but I promise I did!) I saw him in about the same place I saw him last time (it was my 39.5k), but I knew we were both doing better.
I reached the turnaround in 1:31, and started the return journey full of optimism. Basically, I was imagining myself texting everyone after the race to tell them about my sub6 finish and half-hour pb. Hah!
Of course, I hit the headwinds before too long, and the long battle started. Hell's Gate became something to look forward to, as it would signal a break from the wind, and a new stage of the course, but it was still a good 20k away. I had a bit of a mental shut down as I rode around the lakes on the way towards the next landmarks, the 60k bottle stop and the Hell's Gate climb. I found myself drifting into random day dreams about next year, when I remembered that instead of thinking about awesome things, it was probably a good time to be doing some awesome things, so I put pedal to metal and tried to pick up the pace a bit. To no avail.
Hell's Gate hurt much less than it did last year, but it still hurt. I would love to say it's because I'm fitter and awesomer, but I suspect it's at least partly attributable to my 25. And to think I wasn't sure I wanted it! I passed four people on the way up, including Daryl, who by this time had certainly recognised the friendly competition we had going, and managed to up the gears for the descent comparatively quickly after I crested it (ps- man, that hill has one long crest!)
Sub 3 was long since out of reach, but I wanted to finish the "Hell's Gate to bottom of Tarawera" leg at an average of 30km/h, to salvage some sort of respectable time. Again- hah! I was freakin dreaming! But I did manage to stick near my triplets, Jim, Dave and Daryl, who were all wearing this year's jersey with dark shorts. Daryl had quite an edge on me between Hell's Gate and the turn-off, but he was still dimly in sight, and I knew I just had to pick off Jim and Dave (it's pretty sad when the people you're picking off are old, paunchy dudes, but at least this year they were younger and less paunchy, and at least it was me doing the picking off, not vice versa!) I leapfrogged with Jim for a while- pretty intensely. It was a lot of passing and passing back, and I suspect we were both getting on each other's nerves, but I think it meant we caught Dave, and then Daryl more quickly.
Although the winds were all kinds of nasty- not strong by Welly standards, but soul-sappingly consistent- I didn't feel the intense fade last year, and I still had knees to ride with after Hell's Gate. I was being passed, but keeping up with my buddies, and passing the odd person (including the woman on the HYBRID, who seriously rocked that ride!!!!) meant I was nowhere near as demoralised as last year, even as I watched my shameful last year's time become reality again. In my worst nightmares about the race, I never imagined that happening! The Lynmore turn-off arrived much quicker than last year (although it took even longer to get there), and I hoofed it up there, behind Jim and Daryl, and a few other ride buddies.
Tarawera Road was once again a complete sufferfest, but nothing like the pain it was last year. I span past Jim, and then Daryl, and laughed when Jim asked me what cogs I had that he didn't- a compact with a granny 25 on the back comes in handy sometimes! Cruising past Daryl seemed to spur him on, which spurred me on, and we battled up the hill, and along the rest of the road back to T2.
I lost my bike in T2, but luckily had half iron sherpas Jenn and Damian yelling at me, so I found it after not too much dazed circling! As I ran out, I noticed another Wellington legend who featured significantly in my race last year, Ann Bondy. Last year, I raced against Ann (who is decades older than me, and an absolute inspiration) in quite a few events, although I'm sure she wouldn't have known it. Basically, I beat her on the swim, she catches me on the bike, and wipes the floor with me, and I spend the run hunting her down. Last year, she caught me on the flat not far from the turn off on the way back, and although I caught her on the run, eventually, she only finished a couple of minutes behind me. Having Ann and Daryl there helped me to accept that this year's 3:24 was actually a vast improvement on last year's, and that I had to head onto the run feeling like a champ, not a dismal failure.
Time: 3:24
Average speed: 26.1 km/h
Average cadence: 86 or so (91 for the first half.. a shocking 81 for the second half!)
Average heart rate: 164
Top speed: 62km/h (disappointingly chickenshit down Tarawera)
Run- 2:06
After Arthur's Half, I had high hopes of running a sub-2:00 half off the bike this year, but I knew that with all the offroad time, the heat, and the hills, that taking 13 minutes off last year's time was going to be a big ask, even with improved bike fitness and, y'know, actually having knees this year! So I'd settled on a goal of around 2:06, which is around 6:00/k. As I started the run, I felt like this was doable, but a minute into it, when I hit the first wee climb on the bush track I started to doubt it! I got passed by a few teamsters, and passed a couple of people in the bush, but it was a pretty lonely 3km/20 minutes!
Emerging from the bush was a bit of a double-edged sword. It was great to get off the trails, to have some company (read: targets) again, and to see the rest of the race going by, but it was stonking hot! Definitely hotter than last year, right from the get go. I was living from water station to water station, and by the end was getting two cups, drinking one slooowly, and tipping the other over my head.
I kept myself sane by pressing the lap button at particular landmarks, or, in some cases, just randomly. That way, the 6:15 for the first go at the bush track was a distant memory for the 4:52/km cruise down the road from the lookout, and up most of the way to the gun club turn off! The gun club section is horrible, but also a very good section for a shite cyclist/decent enough runner like me, because on the way out, you basically get to see everyone who might remotely be in your "passing zone", and on the way back, you get to see just how far back all those people you left in T2 or passed in the early stages are!
It was good to see Mike running back along the gun club road, a good distance ahead of me, but he wasn't feeling great. I didn't realise just how shite he was feeling until much later though. I didn't really think I could catch him, so focussed on picking off the ladies in front of me, most of whom were team runners after the gun club turnaround cone. I saw Mike again coming through the buried village, and this time he said "you'll pass me for sure". I still didn't think I had a hope in Hades (...what it felt like out on the run...), until I got to the lookout, with two of my team cyclist-runner pals, and saw that I was less than 700m behind him (it had been about 350m since I'd seen him, and I guessed that I was travelling faster).
The "lookout back to beach" stretch felt long, as usual, especially once I got to the bush-lookout area, where we started to mingle with speedies again. I was feeling pretty rubbish, but moving faster than almost everyone else helped me to ignore the heat, and the pain, and to keep moving. There were people walking everywhere, and a couple of middle aged men called out as I went past "oh no, I'm being passed by another young woman, do you have any idea what that does to my ego???" I wanted to reply "dude- if yo' gonna walk, yo' gonna be passed!"
I got passed (!) by a mega fit looking, quite a lot older than me, lady at the drinks station, and actually thought she was on her second loop, but she gave me someone to try to hold onto as we neared the beach again. Then I saw Mike in the distance. I wanted to stop and crawl or walk or cry, but I told myself I couldn't walk a step until I passed Mike-I still didn't think it would happen, so I was really just saying to myself "don't walk!"
As we approached the beach, my right inner thigh (just above my knee) cramped horribly, and I let out a wee yelp. I imagined heading straight into the finish without doing the godawful second loop, but soon realised I'd be explaining a 1:20-something half-M off a 3:24 bike. Uhhh- not likely!! So I sucked it up, and finally edged past Mike near the toilets.
Jenn, Damian and Phil were cheering as I ran past. I rolled my eyes and gave them a big double thumbs down! Phil looked totally chillaxed, and I wondered if he had met his goal of going sub5? The finish clock read 5:45, which was 5:40-lady time, so I knew sub 6, and sub 6:10 were out of the question- I've never managed to run the loop track in under 30 (although I'm confident I could if I ran it straight), especially not the hard way (anticlockwise). I hit the lap button again, and headed back in.
The second loop in the bush was even harder, but luckily there were still people to pass- both people racing with me who were fading and walking, and people who were heading out for their first loop. Poor bastards! There were also lots of spectators, and unsuspecting victims out for their Saturday walks, all of whom were great with the cheers and claps, and thankfully short on the patronising encouragement! Earlier, I'd been a box of fluffy ducks- yarning with volunteers and my fellow gorillas, calling out effusive thanks to the cheering spectators, but by this stage, all I could muster was a pathetic thumbs up. My thigh kept twinging for the first couple of ks, and my achilles (which had also niggled a little on the bike) started threatening to misbehave. I'd missed the finish/transition area drink stop, and could feel it. I ended up stopping to walk up a longish, but not that steep, hill, for ten, then twenty, then fifty paces, before I slapped my CG and pushed back into a gammy run. My pace was abysmally, embarrassingly slow, but I soon overtook my new friend (who had only been on her first lap before), and my old friend, beige contact t-shirt dude. We stayed together for awhile, but they both passed me back before we'd left the bush, which seemed to go on forever. It feels so much longer anticlockwise!
Even though I didn't have much left, I walked for another drink and splash at the final aid station, and started a new lap for the 2-odd ks back to the finish. I was pretty sure I had a solid PB sewn up, and that I'd be seeing an improved run time, but it was hard to tell, with limited and muddled Garmin data. My pace for the last "leg" was 5:32/km, and I crossed the finish mat at 6:21 race time, 6:16 lady-time, for a 2:06 half marathon, and a ten minute PB.
I accepted my medal (and some teasing! I was famous for all of ten seconds) from Hooksie, accepted a warm Export Gold from a volunteer, and accepted a hug from my Phil. As soon as Phil told me about his times, and his experience on the bike, I knew I was right, and that I could take this 10-minute PB as something much more. One day I will master this race, and I am such a masochist that I will be back for more until I do!
Monday, December 14, 2009
5 days!
I can't believe there's just 5 days to go.
It seems like forever ago that I moved up here, started training with Paul's plans, found myself a good local running route, and tackled the Waitakeres (...and the Auckland traffic) by myself for the first time...
Since then, I've:
I'm pretty stoked with how this year has been, with fun and fantastic training, and solid, if not spectacular, race performances, and we had a bloody brilliant weekend to round off our "real" training.
I rode well on both Saturday and Sunday, and Phil even commented on how much better I was keeping up with him on the way out to Titirangi yesterday. I averaged 5:00/ks off the bike on Saturday, even including our cooldown (I'll be honest, it was HARD). We had an uncomfortable but OK open water swim on Saturday, and a stunning wetsuited pool swim in the Parnell Baths on Sunday.
I'm ready, Rotorua. Bring it.
It seems like forever ago that I moved up here, started training with Paul's plans, found myself a good local running route, and tackled the Waitakeres (...and the Auckland traffic) by myself for the first time...
Since then, I've:
- done nearly 300 hours of training (..so that's where my bonus went....)
- burned 180,000 calories, an average of 714 per day (this is according to buckeye.. which lies)
- completed 267 workouts, at an average of 1.06 sessions per day
- improved my average aerobic run speed from around 6:20/km in April to around 5:50/km now
- learned to ride aero!
- swum the equivalent of the Lake Taupo Challenge
- covered the length of New Zealand by bike, and made it back up to Christchurch on the (virtual) return trip
- lost 2.5-3 or so kilos
- run three half marathons, done two standard distance triathlons, 3 open water swims, one fun ride, one offroad starlight run, and one duathlon
I'm pretty stoked with how this year has been, with fun and fantastic training, and solid, if not spectacular, race performances, and we had a bloody brilliant weekend to round off our "real" training.
I rode well on both Saturday and Sunday, and Phil even commented on how much better I was keeping up with him on the way out to Titirangi yesterday. I averaged 5:00/ks off the bike on Saturday, even including our cooldown (I'll be honest, it was HARD). We had an uncomfortable but OK open water swim on Saturday, and a stunning wetsuited pool swim in the Parnell Baths on Sunday.
I'm ready, Rotorua. Bring it.
Monday, December 07, 2009
Tinman Race Report: Solid, but unexceptional
First, go read Coach Paul's post about pushing yourself on his new blog, because it's good and it just rings So True. Then come back and read my race report.
...
I did a bit of thinking and talking about goals and so on leading up to Tinman. I did a bit of maths, figured out that 2:40 was about the best I could do (leaving a little for transitions), so decided 2:50 sounded about right. Then, after a fun brick workout on Wednesday (yes, getting progressively faster off the bike at 6:45 on a humid weekday morning is my idea of fun), I decided I could go sub:50 on the run. Then, as we discussed the race on Saturday afternoon, I decided I would like to at least get out on the run before the winner finished!
I achieved two out of those three goals, had a few disappointments, and learned a LOT about my strengths and weaknesses. All in all, the very model of a training race!
Swim:
"Deep" water start; 2 laps, with a run around a gantry on the beach.
The water at Pilot Bay was calm but chilly. The shallows, where I'd warmed up with Phil, were pleasant enough, but once we were all up to our shoulders, waiting for the gun to go, it was a bit shivery! Still- nothing like that head splitting, ear hurting cold a couple of weeks ago in Rotorua.
The start was relaxed, but within 100m or so, I found myself sucked into the washing machine. It wasn't the biggest swim start I've done, though I'm sure it was close, but it was by far the most aggressive. It wasn't just your garden variety kicking, bumping and swimming over; there was a bit of extra grabbing, pulling and thumping thrown in too! My shoulders were aching, I felt pretty gammy, and I messed up a little bit of navigation during the first lap, butI was passing yellow capped men (fortunately none of them my husband) left, right and centre, which was nice for a change! However, I knew I hadn't swum well, so when I saw that the swim clock read 26:51 (24:51 in lady time), I knew that it was a short, rather than an awesome, swim!
I saw Kathy getting herself sorted in T1 as I ran to my bike, and correctly concluded that I'd be passing her on the run. If I'd beaten her onto the bike course, I like to think we could have played some leapfrog together, and that having her in sight would have kept me honest!
Bike:
Two laps of a slightly long 20k course (10k out and back). Flat and fast.
My goal was to come in at over 30km/h. The plan for achieving that was getting into a big gear as quickly as possible, and hammering for dear life. I was a bit nervous about the size of the race and of being pinged for accidental "drafting"!
The bike went well, but I found it very difficult to push hard, partly, I think because of the voice inside my head saying that 30 km/h was "enough". My legs were spinning right round (like a record), but every time I upped the gear, they protested. My average cadence for the ride was 99 rpm, which is MUCH higher than I wanted it to be. I have the leg strength to push a bigger, harder gear, and I nail my legs on hills all the time, so I really need to focus on being able to really push it during flat races.
The other trouble I had on the bike was trying not to fall foul of the 7m rule, while surrounded by people who had NO sense of tri-etiquette whatsoever, and who were insistent on trampling the 7m rule whenever they could. Having people pass me in groups of 4 or 5, then take up the whole side of the road making it impossible to pass back was a pain in the nuts, especially trying to hang 7m back while the cheaters surged ahead. Number 348, in particular, deserves a brickbat. We leap frogged for awhile in a friendly sort of way, until she passed me, then proceeded to suck the wheel of the woman ahead of her for a few minutes, sitting just slightly to the right making it impossible to get past. When I did decide to go for it, I got told off by an old dude in fluoro gear for not being on the left!
I finished the bike at an average pace, by the Garmin, of 30.3km/h, but a disappointing split time of 1:22:50 (1:23:05 is the official time). I felt like I could do it again! My average HR for the ride was 171, which shows I was putting a decent effort in, but boy-oh-boy, those 3 minutes are falling next year!
Run:
Being a (comparatively) good runner is awesome. Sure- I come out of the swim to an empty bike rack, and come back from the bike to a full one, but I then get to spend the next 10km running everyone down.
I decided to use my Wednesday workout to my advantage, and to re-set my lap every 5 minutes or so, and focus on lap pace only. The workout taught me that sometimes I slow down because I'm relaxed or "bored", not really because I'm tired. Pushing hard for 5 minutes, and counting down til the next lap, then pushing harder shows just how hard you can work if you make it happen.
The strategy worked OK until I got to the Mount base track. My lap paces were a little uppy downy, but I was keeping them in the high 4:00s and low 5:00s. I had a bit of an "a-ha" moment where I realised that when I felt like I was sore and slow, it was actually because I was working hard, and when I felt "strong", I was actually slowing!
I really enjoyed being in a big field, and passed people pretty much non-stop, and as far as I am aware, only got passed by one lady. Only one of my passees (a dude) passed me back, and I think he was in a team, so massive props to me! Unfortunately, the problem with being an OK runner and a shite cyclist is that everyone I passed was someone I should have passed, so it wasn't enough to really keep me honest.
...Anyway, like I said, I was going well until I got to the Mount. I don't have my splits here, and I'm not sure quite where the Mount is in the greater scheme of things, but I was on pace for sub 50 for the run when I hit the track, though it would have been tight! As soon as I hit the undulating, gravel track, I watched my lap pace slow to a 5:30/km. Ouch! I changed my garmin display to HR. I don't normally do this in races, because I have a tendency to think "OK, it's 172, that's good enough", but this time I thought I could motivate myself to push my HR higher, rather than being glum about the slowing pace. There were a few Sunday strollers to dodge, and still plenty of people to pass, which was lucky. I think I'd have definitely slowed more if the track had been deserted. The views were absolutely stunning, but every time I rounded a corner, I could tell there was still a fair bit of Mount to go!
My one pass-back passed me as we came off the track, and I re-set my watch as I was nearly there. I got a real buzz from the spectators and drink stop ladies as I pushed towards the finish line, but I couldn't quite catch the guy who'd passed me. I crossed the finish line at 2:46:00 (2:48:00 on the clock) for a run time of 53:17, and a final run split (just under 1km) of 4:42, which I have to say is not too bad for a hot, undulating, and slightly long, run off the bike!
Lessons:
Bring on Rotorua!
...
I did a bit of thinking and talking about goals and so on leading up to Tinman. I did a bit of maths, figured out that 2:40 was about the best I could do (leaving a little for transitions), so decided 2:50 sounded about right. Then, after a fun brick workout on Wednesday (yes, getting progressively faster off the bike at 6:45 on a humid weekday morning is my idea of fun), I decided I could go sub:50 on the run. Then, as we discussed the race on Saturday afternoon, I decided I would like to at least get out on the run before the winner finished!
I achieved two out of those three goals, had a few disappointments, and learned a LOT about my strengths and weaknesses. All in all, the very model of a training race!
Swim:
"Deep" water start; 2 laps, with a run around a gantry on the beach.
The water at Pilot Bay was calm but chilly. The shallows, where I'd warmed up with Phil, were pleasant enough, but once we were all up to our shoulders, waiting for the gun to go, it was a bit shivery! Still- nothing like that head splitting, ear hurting cold a couple of weeks ago in Rotorua.
The start was relaxed, but within 100m or so, I found myself sucked into the washing machine. It wasn't the biggest swim start I've done, though I'm sure it was close, but it was by far the most aggressive. It wasn't just your garden variety kicking, bumping and swimming over; there was a bit of extra grabbing, pulling and thumping thrown in too! My shoulders were aching, I felt pretty gammy, and I messed up a little bit of navigation during the first lap, butI was passing yellow capped men (fortunately none of them my husband) left, right and centre, which was nice for a change! However, I knew I hadn't swum well, so when I saw that the swim clock read 26:51 (24:51 in lady time), I knew that it was a short, rather than an awesome, swim!
I saw Kathy getting herself sorted in T1 as I ran to my bike, and correctly concluded that I'd be passing her on the run. If I'd beaten her onto the bike course, I like to think we could have played some leapfrog together, and that having her in sight would have kept me honest!
Bike:
Two laps of a slightly long 20k course (10k out and back). Flat and fast.
My goal was to come in at over 30km/h. The plan for achieving that was getting into a big gear as quickly as possible, and hammering for dear life. I was a bit nervous about the size of the race and of being pinged for accidental "drafting"!
The bike went well, but I found it very difficult to push hard, partly, I think because of the voice inside my head saying that 30 km/h was "enough". My legs were spinning right round (like a record), but every time I upped the gear, they protested. My average cadence for the ride was 99 rpm, which is MUCH higher than I wanted it to be. I have the leg strength to push a bigger, harder gear, and I nail my legs on hills all the time, so I really need to focus on being able to really push it during flat races.
The other trouble I had on the bike was trying not to fall foul of the 7m rule, while surrounded by people who had NO sense of tri-etiquette whatsoever, and who were insistent on trampling the 7m rule whenever they could. Having people pass me in groups of 4 or 5, then take up the whole side of the road making it impossible to pass back was a pain in the nuts, especially trying to hang 7m back while the cheaters surged ahead. Number 348, in particular, deserves a brickbat. We leap frogged for awhile in a friendly sort of way, until she passed me, then proceeded to suck the wheel of the woman ahead of her for a few minutes, sitting just slightly to the right making it impossible to get past. When I did decide to go for it, I got told off by an old dude in fluoro gear for not being on the left!
I finished the bike at an average pace, by the Garmin, of 30.3km/h, but a disappointing split time of 1:22:50 (1:23:05 is the official time). I felt like I could do it again! My average HR for the ride was 171, which shows I was putting a decent effort in, but boy-oh-boy, those 3 minutes are falling next year!
Run:
Being a (comparatively) good runner is awesome. Sure- I come out of the swim to an empty bike rack, and come back from the bike to a full one, but I then get to spend the next 10km running everyone down.
I decided to use my Wednesday workout to my advantage, and to re-set my lap every 5 minutes or so, and focus on lap pace only. The workout taught me that sometimes I slow down because I'm relaxed or "bored", not really because I'm tired. Pushing hard for 5 minutes, and counting down til the next lap, then pushing harder shows just how hard you can work if you make it happen.
The strategy worked OK until I got to the Mount base track. My lap paces were a little uppy downy, but I was keeping them in the high 4:00s and low 5:00s. I had a bit of an "a-ha" moment where I realised that when I felt like I was sore and slow, it was actually because I was working hard, and when I felt "strong", I was actually slowing!
I really enjoyed being in a big field, and passed people pretty much non-stop, and as far as I am aware, only got passed by one lady. Only one of my passees (a dude) passed me back, and I think he was in a team, so massive props to me! Unfortunately, the problem with being an OK runner and a shite cyclist is that everyone I passed was someone I should have passed, so it wasn't enough to really keep me honest.
...Anyway, like I said, I was going well until I got to the Mount. I don't have my splits here, and I'm not sure quite where the Mount is in the greater scheme of things, but I was on pace for sub 50 for the run when I hit the track, though it would have been tight! As soon as I hit the undulating, gravel track, I watched my lap pace slow to a 5:30/km. Ouch! I changed my garmin display to HR. I don't normally do this in races, because I have a tendency to think "OK, it's 172, that's good enough", but this time I thought I could motivate myself to push my HR higher, rather than being glum about the slowing pace. There were a few Sunday strollers to dodge, and still plenty of people to pass, which was lucky. I think I'd have definitely slowed more if the track had been deserted. The views were absolutely stunning, but every time I rounded a corner, I could tell there was still a fair bit of Mount to go!
My one pass-back passed me as we came off the track, and I re-set my watch as I was nearly there. I got a real buzz from the spectators and drink stop ladies as I pushed towards the finish line, but I couldn't quite catch the guy who'd passed me. I crossed the finish line at 2:46:00 (2:48:00 on the clock) for a run time of 53:17, and a final run split (just under 1km) of 4:42, which I have to say is not too bad for a hot, undulating, and slightly long, run off the bike!
Lessons:
- the fitness is there- well, getting there!
- my endurance has definitely improved, so I can afford to go a little nuts!
- flat should not mean "easy"- it should mean "different hard"
- I need to be more confident using bigger gears
- my race swimming still really sucks
- I need to stop being limited by "what I'm capable of". In my early running days, I exceeded expectations, and pushed hard. Now, I set realistic goals, and either hit them bang on, or just miss them. I need a happy medium
Bring on Rotorua!
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
December!
December is going to be a MASSIVE month in the Hotpotato Household.
We're counting down to the Rotorua Half Ironman on the 19th, but before we get there, we've got Tinman this weekend, a plethora of holiday parties and, on the 17th, my last day at the job I've had for the past five years!
Then after the Half, it's back up to Auckland to pack my wee apartment up, shift it all down to Phil's parents' place in Cambridge, then turn around and go back to Auckland to take off for our 5-week European adventure!
After 5 weeks of travelling, and freezing ourselves in Seoul, Slovenia, Belgium, the Netherlands, England, Germany, Denmark and Spain, it's back to the 'tron, where I'll be house-hunting for a week, before starting work on the 8th of February (...the day after my 28th birthday), then kicking off the rest of the NZ tri-season with TriWoman races in Karapiro and (with my sister) Rotovegas.
Phew! I'm tired just thinking about it!
We're counting down to the Rotorua Half Ironman on the 19th, but before we get there, we've got Tinman this weekend, a plethora of holiday parties and, on the 17th, my last day at the job I've had for the past five years!
Then after the Half, it's back up to Auckland to pack my wee apartment up, shift it all down to Phil's parents' place in Cambridge, then turn around and go back to Auckland to take off for our 5-week European adventure!
After 5 weeks of travelling, and freezing ourselves in Seoul, Slovenia, Belgium, the Netherlands, England, Germany, Denmark and Spain, it's back to the 'tron, where I'll be house-hunting for a week, before starting work on the 8th of February (...the day after my 28th birthday), then kicking off the rest of the NZ tri-season with TriWoman races in Karapiro and (with my sister) Rotovegas.
Phew! I'm tired just thinking about it!
Monday, November 30, 2009
Wonderful weekend
We had a fabulous weekend, chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool in the Rodney District, and indulging ourselves in post-HoBOO, pre-final-half-ironman-prep fish'n'chips, ice-cream and beer. We slept in, and wandered around the Matakana farmers marker for hours, sampling cheese and chocolate and pastries and wheatgrass shots and green smoothies, and buying organic goodies for a holiday park BBQ dinner. We swam in shallow water at the campsite in the late afternoon sun, and again at Goat Island marine reserve until we wussed out because of the stingrays...
But just in case anyone thinks we were out there slacking off:
After Goat Island, we climbed for 5 steep minutes until we got here:
Then turned and swore when we saw what was coming next:
Then endured another 15 minutes of constant pain, of grades topping out at over 20%, of steady climbs becoming our "respite", before reaching the triumphant top, and looking out at how far we'd come (see the sea in this picture?? well, we basically came from there).
...and then we rode for another hour and a half, but nothing quite mattered after that climb!
But just in case anyone thinks we were out there slacking off:
After Goat Island, we climbed for 5 steep minutes until we got here:
Then turned and swore when we saw what was coming next:
Then endured another 15 minutes of constant pain, of grades topping out at over 20%, of steady climbs becoming our "respite", before reaching the triumphant top, and looking out at how far we'd come (see the sea in this picture?? well, we basically came from there).
...and then we rode for another hour and a half, but nothing quite mattered after that climb!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
"Worthwhile"? A ramble.
This comment on Are We There Yet? got me all riled up today:
"Personally I'd get a life and stop the pointless running, cycling etc. Try travel. Or living. Or voluntary service overseas.
Much more worthwhile uses of the short time you have on the planet than endlessly sweating your way around the city, breathing in rubbish from cars as you go.
But that's just me - I've always found sport utterly without point and not even remotely pleasant."
While I recognise that the poster has the right to his or her own opinion about sports, I reacted to the suggestion that my hobby is objectively and unequivocally less valuable to me than travelling, and that it is somehow not "living" (I have no issue at all with the fairly uncontroversial proposition that triathlon is less worthwhile than volunteer service overseas) and, although I commented on Ann's original post, I wanted to explore it further here.
I think the first point is that triathlon is not mutually inconsistent with travelling, "living" (whatever that's supposed to mean) and other activities. Of course, every hour I spend training is an hour I could spend doing something else. But realistically, if I didn't spend those hours training, I'd probably be shopping, drinking, reading, internetting or on the couch. I certainly wouldn't be travelling or volunteering overseas for an hour every morning before work, because that would make getting to work by 8:30 a bit tricky. Having said that, triathlon has made it harder to pursue other hobbies; to learn languages, salsa dancing or thai cooking; to attend plays and poetry readings, and even (in my case) to learn to drive.
But when what we're talking about is a hobby, who's to say which is "better"? Sure, learning French would make it easier to get around France. But being fit means I can climb a mountain while I'm there. Thai cooking would be grand; but the fruits of my labour would be so much less satsfying if I wasn't devouring them at the end of a good day's training. Renovating my hypothetical future home would be a very sensible, grown up, way to spend a shit load of money in the hope of realising some tax free capital gains, but I'm just not convinced that I'd find it as personally satisfying as a 4 hour ride.
But, let's say my own enjoyment isn't enough. Personal satisfaction =/= "worthwhile". Fair enough- that's a philosophical inter-generational debate I can't really be fagged getting into right now. Let's start with personal improvement. It is simply undeniable that triathlon has made me a better person, or at least made me more self-aware of my (significant) personal shortcomings. There's nothing like a petty tantrum over a shitty race result, or a husband who says "well, that was a good recovery ride" after three hours of fucking torture, to demonstrate that you're not as grown up as you think you are. On the other hand, there's nothing quite like going from someone who was scared to roll down a smooth anthill on a bike, to someone who can navigate the Okareka loop in her drops. From someone who squealed and panicked after riding a mountain bike over a stone to someone who..well, someone who is getting there, more and more every day. I haven't had a chance to see yet what this means for me in the rest of my life, but I don't think anyone would disagree that having faith in yourself is kinda handy.
OK, so we're still all about me. Is there anything about my tri training that benefits others? Directly- Phil, and my hypothetical future babies will benefit from having a fit, healthy, personally satisfied wife and mother. Others I know have been exposed to my hobby, and in some cases, this has led to them experiencing all of the personal satisfation I described above. Phil is a perfect example of that. Indirectly? I may be less of a burden on the health care system, and the environment, although in the latter case I doubt it (in fact, I'm probably hurting the country, because if I didn't have triathlon as a hobby, I would spend 10 hours every day earning money for a big corporate law firm, and I'd pay more taxes...) More indirectly? Well, my participation in triathlon events is an increase in quantity demanded, which leads to an increase quantity supplied, which is good for all the other triathletes. And oh- all of that extra money I spend is contributing a fair amount to the tax pot through others...
Next, to think about "living". I've assumed that what the commenter meant was "having a life", rather than simply existing and continuing to breathe. In my view, that means living life to the fullest, doing those things that make you feel alive. So let's reflect about triathlon, and "living", with the following few thoughts in mind:
Having the fitness to share your grandfather's 80th birthday mountain climb with him. Bobbing up and down in your wetsuit in Wellington Harbour on a sunny summer's evening. Looking out over the city and the Hutt from the top of Mt Vic, and seeing the snowy Rimutakas and Orongorongos in the distance. Holding onto the Pencarrow Lighthouse for dear life in 130kph gusts. Twisting and turning down a mountain bike path in a battle against the sun. Getting muddy. Getting wet. Falling down, and getting back up. Meeting new friends, and celebrating their triumphs with them.
If that's not life.... What is?
Right now- time to train. Off the the Parnell Baths!
"Personally I'd get a life and stop the pointless running, cycling etc. Try travel. Or living. Or voluntary service overseas.
Much more worthwhile uses of the short time you have on the planet than endlessly sweating your way around the city, breathing in rubbish from cars as you go.
But that's just me - I've always found sport utterly without point and not even remotely pleasant."
While I recognise that the poster has the right to his or her own opinion about sports, I reacted to the suggestion that my hobby is objectively and unequivocally less valuable to me than travelling, and that it is somehow not "living" (I have no issue at all with the fairly uncontroversial proposition that triathlon is less worthwhile than volunteer service overseas) and, although I commented on Ann's original post, I wanted to explore it further here.
I think the first point is that triathlon is not mutually inconsistent with travelling, "living" (whatever that's supposed to mean) and other activities. Of course, every hour I spend training is an hour I could spend doing something else. But realistically, if I didn't spend those hours training, I'd probably be shopping, drinking, reading, internetting or on the couch. I certainly wouldn't be travelling or volunteering overseas for an hour every morning before work, because that would make getting to work by 8:30 a bit tricky. Having said that, triathlon has made it harder to pursue other hobbies; to learn languages, salsa dancing or thai cooking; to attend plays and poetry readings, and even (in my case) to learn to drive.
But when what we're talking about is a hobby, who's to say which is "better"? Sure, learning French would make it easier to get around France. But being fit means I can climb a mountain while I'm there. Thai cooking would be grand; but the fruits of my labour would be so much less satsfying if I wasn't devouring them at the end of a good day's training. Renovating my hypothetical future home would be a very sensible, grown up, way to spend a shit load of money in the hope of realising some tax free capital gains, but I'm just not convinced that I'd find it as personally satisfying as a 4 hour ride.
But, let's say my own enjoyment isn't enough. Personal satisfaction =/= "worthwhile". Fair enough- that's a philosophical inter-generational debate I can't really be fagged getting into right now. Let's start with personal improvement. It is simply undeniable that triathlon has made me a better person, or at least made me more self-aware of my (significant) personal shortcomings. There's nothing like a petty tantrum over a shitty race result, or a husband who says "well, that was a good recovery ride" after three hours of fucking torture, to demonstrate that you're not as grown up as you think you are. On the other hand, there's nothing quite like going from someone who was scared to roll down a smooth anthill on a bike, to someone who can navigate the Okareka loop in her drops. From someone who squealed and panicked after riding a mountain bike over a stone to someone who..well, someone who is getting there, more and more every day. I haven't had a chance to see yet what this means for me in the rest of my life, but I don't think anyone would disagree that having faith in yourself is kinda handy.
OK, so we're still all about me. Is there anything about my tri training that benefits others? Directly- Phil, and my hypothetical future babies will benefit from having a fit, healthy, personally satisfied wife and mother. Others I know have been exposed to my hobby, and in some cases, this has led to them experiencing all of the personal satisfation I described above. Phil is a perfect example of that. Indirectly? I may be less of a burden on the health care system, and the environment, although in the latter case I doubt it (in fact, I'm probably hurting the country, because if I didn't have triathlon as a hobby, I would spend 10 hours every day earning money for a big corporate law firm, and I'd pay more taxes...) More indirectly? Well, my participation in triathlon events is an increase in quantity demanded, which leads to an increase quantity supplied, which is good for all the other triathletes. And oh- all of that extra money I spend is contributing a fair amount to the tax pot through others...
Next, to think about "living". I've assumed that what the commenter meant was "having a life", rather than simply existing and continuing to breathe. In my view, that means living life to the fullest, doing those things that make you feel alive. So let's reflect about triathlon, and "living", with the following few thoughts in mind:
Having the fitness to share your grandfather's 80th birthday mountain climb with him. Bobbing up and down in your wetsuit in Wellington Harbour on a sunny summer's evening. Looking out over the city and the Hutt from the top of Mt Vic, and seeing the snowy Rimutakas and Orongorongos in the distance. Holding onto the Pencarrow Lighthouse for dear life in 130kph gusts. Twisting and turning down a mountain bike path in a battle against the sun. Getting muddy. Getting wet. Falling down, and getting back up. Meeting new friends, and celebrating their triumphs with them.
If that's not life.... What is?
Right now- time to train. Off the the Parnell Baths!
Monday, November 23, 2009
Contact Tri Series: Rotorua
UPDATE: The official results have been edited, and in actual fact my time was 3:21:21, NOT 3:26:21, so it was a 3 minute PB after all. A few edits marked throughout
After finishing the race, I sat on the bank in the sun, and talked to Phil who was in a grump. He was slower overall than last year, his swim was abysmal (he thought) and he just couldn't push it on the run. He was not a happy camper. In fact- for a change I had a taste of what it's like to be the partner of the brat, rather than being the brat myself!
I sat him down and lectured him:
"I know you're grumpy and it's disappointing, but that's what racing is about. Sometimes it sucks. Last year, the swim was short, maybe 1300m max. This year, it was at least 1500m, if not more, and you haven't been swimming! You beat your bike time, and not only that, felt miles better on the bike than last year. You may not have been able to push hard on the run, but you ran nearly the same time,even though you're still sick. And you know full well you can run. And you can run off the bike. You just didn't today, and that's OK. In fact, I'd take the success on the bike, all while feeling better than last year, and take that as one in the bank for the Half."
Then I got home, found out I was not, as I had thought, 5-10 minutes faster than last year. In fact, I may have been 2 minutes slower. And I had my own stampy, bratty tantrum, while Phil was off getting pizza, and I grumbled on facebook, and on the blog.
But now, I'm ready to listen to my own advice, and the advice of my coach and virtual training buddy, who know better than me, and be proud instead of bratty and stampy.
So, here we go: Contact Tri Series 2008 & 2009- A comparative race report
Swim
Last year: forgot to put goggles on, short course, deserted bike racks, out of the water in 25:53, and out of T1 in 28:12 (I think.. the official results are by memory)
This year: started well, felt strong. The Great Contact Lens Experiment of 2009 has been a grand success, so I didn't have the sighting problems I've often had in the past, and I was able to stick with a group much more effectively. Reached the turn around buoy in 14:40, I think, and was out of the water in 29:13. Not the best of times, even for a 1500m course, but could be worse. The run up to T1 was long, and I fumbled around a bit getting myself sorted for the tough bike, but I was in and out in a little over 2 minutes. Apparently I took over 7 minutes, which I find VERY hard to believe (it felt like 3, and Garmin says I was on the bike just over half an hour from the start), but who am I to argue?
Bike:
Last year: The five lap course was more painful every time, and by the end I wanted to top myself, and then go postal on everyone else. I was riding the carbonless wonder, and had three chain rings, so was shifting all over the place to deal with the easy climbs, steep climbs, long climbs, power-sections and technical descents. My average lap time was about 22:00- arrived in T2, to a full, full, bike rack, at 1:49:xx, and was out on the run at 1:51:04.
This year: My splits were pretty consistent (20:30; 20:37; 20:37, 20:50 and 21:19, which includes entering T2), though my button pressing wasn't quite on the nose, and the first lap (with an elevated post-swim heart rate) felt much harder than the last. My average cadence was between 85 and 87 for each lap, and my AHR sat in the 160s, with my max (apart from lap 1) in the low 170s. My compact cranks were an absolute godsend, and I remembered to stay in my big chain ring as much as I could. Having decent componentry also meant I didn't have to anticipate the claims, and shift in advance, as I did last year! I passed far more women than last year, wasn't passed by Phil, and I never once felt like stopping (apart from briefly toyed with skipping the last lap (kidding!)
Run:
Last year: Apart from seeing Phil at the beginning, the run was very, very lonely indeed, and I felt like I was coming last. Peoplew ere packing up the drink stations. I held an OK pace, and I think my finish time was 1:05:54, for what I think is just slightly over 11km. During the second lap, I chased down a lady in purple, and crossed the finish line with her. My average pace according to the Garmin was about 5:48/k overall, but the official number is more like 6:00/k (ugh)
This year: The run felt far less lonely, even though I didn't see Phil. I held a good pace down from transition into the beach, and then focussed on keeping my average Garmin pace below 5:30/k for the first loop, and succeeded until about 3/4 of the way through. A couple of NZ-team-kit clad ladies passed me, and I kept them in sight for as long as I could, and also picked off one lady in purple during the first loop. First loop time was 30:30, and Garmin says my average pace was 5:37/k. AHR in the 160s, so lower than usual.
The sun came up during the second loop, so I walked the beach drink station the second time, and took a bit to get going, which took my lap pace to over 6:11/k. The second loop was all about passing, and watching that average pace go down, which was most satisfying. After passing a couple of dudes (yes, dudes!) I created an imaginary opponent (I wasn't creative to name her, so she just stayed "Imaginary Opponent") who lurked at every corner, beckoning on. At a couple of points, she morphed into a Real Opponent, but the real opponents were all on their first loops, passing them lacked any real sense of satisfaction, so I relied on Garmin, and the Imaginary Opponent to get me through. I hoped to finish by 1pm (which was the time I finished last year, but we started later), but came out of the woods a couple of minutes later, ran across the beach, leapt the ditch, and crossed the finish line at 1:02pm. My second lap pace was 5:48 by the Garmin, but my official run time was1:04:40 1:04:04, which is 5:52/k 5:49/k, not the 5:42/k my Garmin said it was. Silly Garmin.
Reflection:
On reflection, I can see that I am in better half-IM shape than last year. I had a much more successful bike ride, shaved nearlyaround a minute nearly two minutes off the run (every bit counts!), and the main culprit for the disappointing time was the longer swim and transition. Also, last year my training was all about hill repeats, so I had strong hill legs, but lacked endurance, which means my training was better suited to this course than to the Half. Last year, we discovered that a person's time for 5 x the Okareka circuit was roughly equivalent to their time on the Rotorua course, particularly if that person faded spectacularly after the turnaround. This year, since I plan NOT to fade, I am confident that my bike time could come down from 3:26 to somewhere in the realm of 3:10 to 3:15. I also think I could hold the Garmin pace from the run today over the full course, but to avoid being crazy ambitious, I'm going to confidently say I could average 6:00/ks, giving me a 2:06 half, compared to last year's 2:13.
Lastly, I need to learn to leave myself out on the course in a tri. I have left my whole self out there in three half marathons this year. Sure- my triathlon AHR should be lower, but I'm not convinced I'm pushing hard enough.
After finishing the race, I sat on the bank in the sun, and talked to Phil who was in a grump. He was slower overall than last year, his swim was abysmal (he thought) and he just couldn't push it on the run. He was not a happy camper. In fact- for a change I had a taste of what it's like to be the partner of the brat, rather than being the brat myself!
I sat him down and lectured him:
"I know you're grumpy and it's disappointing, but that's what racing is about. Sometimes it sucks. Last year, the swim was short, maybe 1300m max. This year, it was at least 1500m, if not more, and you haven't been swimming! You beat your bike time, and not only that, felt miles better on the bike than last year. You may not have been able to push hard on the run, but you ran nearly the same time,even though you're still sick. And you know full well you can run. And you can run off the bike. You just didn't today, and that's OK. In fact, I'd take the success on the bike, all while feeling better than last year, and take that as one in the bank for the Half."
Then I got home, found out I was not, as I had thought, 5-10 minutes faster than last year. In fact, I may have been 2 minutes slower. And I had my own stampy, bratty tantrum, while Phil was off getting pizza, and I grumbled on facebook, and on the blog.
But now, I'm ready to listen to my own advice, and the advice of my coach and virtual training buddy, who know better than me, and be proud instead of bratty and stampy.
So, here we go: Contact Tri Series 2008 & 2009- A comparative race report
Swim
Last year: forgot to put goggles on, short course, deserted bike racks, out of the water in 25:53, and out of T1 in 28:12 (I think.. the official results are by memory)
This year: started well, felt strong. The Great Contact Lens Experiment of 2009 has been a grand success, so I didn't have the sighting problems I've often had in the past, and I was able to stick with a group much more effectively. Reached the turn around buoy in 14:40, I think, and was out of the water in 29:13. Not the best of times, even for a 1500m course, but could be worse. The run up to T1 was long, and I fumbled around a bit getting myself sorted for the tough bike, but I was in and out in a little over 2 minutes.
Bike:
Last year: The five lap course was more painful every time, and by the end I wanted to top myself, and then go postal on everyone else. I was riding the carbonless wonder, and had three chain rings, so was shifting all over the place to deal with the easy climbs, steep climbs, long climbs, power-sections and technical descents. My average lap time was about 22:00- arrived in T2, to a full, full, bike rack, at 1:49:xx, and was out on the run at 1:51:04.
This year: My splits were pretty consistent (20:30; 20:37; 20:37, 20:50 and 21:19, which includes entering T2), though my button pressing wasn't quite on the nose, and the first lap (with an elevated post-swim heart rate) felt much harder than the last. My average cadence was between 85 and 87 for each lap, and my AHR sat in the 160s, with my max (apart from lap 1) in the low 170s. My compact cranks were an absolute godsend, and I remembered to stay in my big chain ring as much as I could. Having decent componentry also meant I didn't have to anticipate the claims, and shift in advance, as I did last year! I passed far more women than last year, wasn't passed by Phil, and I never once felt like stopping (apart from briefly toyed with skipping the last lap (kidding!)
Run:
Last year: Apart from seeing Phil at the beginning, the run was very, very lonely indeed, and I felt like I was coming last. Peoplew ere packing up the drink stations. I held an OK pace, and I think my finish time was 1:05:54, for what I think is just slightly over 11km. During the second lap, I chased down a lady in purple, and crossed the finish line with her. My average pace according to the Garmin was about 5:48/k overall, but the official number is more like 6:00/k (ugh)
This year: The run felt far less lonely, even though I didn't see Phil. I held a good pace down from transition into the beach, and then focussed on keeping my average Garmin pace below 5:30/k for the first loop, and succeeded until about 3/4 of the way through. A couple of NZ-team-kit clad ladies passed me, and I kept them in sight for as long as I could, and also picked off one lady in purple during the first loop. First loop time was 30:30, and Garmin says my average pace was 5:37/k. AHR in the 160s, so lower than usual.
The sun came up during the second loop, so I walked the beach drink station the second time, and took a bit to get going, which took my lap pace to over 6:11/k. The second loop was all about passing, and watching that average pace go down, which was most satisfying. After passing a couple of dudes (yes, dudes!) I created an imaginary opponent (I wasn't creative to name her, so she just stayed "Imaginary Opponent") who lurked at every corner, beckoning on. At a couple of points, she morphed into a Real Opponent, but the real opponents were all on their first loops, passing them lacked any real sense of satisfaction, so I relied on Garmin, and the Imaginary Opponent to get me through. I hoped to finish by 1pm (which was the time I finished last year, but we started later), but came out of the woods a couple of minutes later, ran across the beach, leapt the ditch, and crossed the finish line at 1:02pm. My second lap pace was 5:48 by the Garmin, but my official run time was
Reflection:
On reflection, I can see that I am in better half-IM shape than last year. I had a much more successful bike ride, shaved nearly
Lastly, I need to learn to leave myself out on the course in a tri. I have left my whole self out there in three half marathons this year. Sure- my triathlon AHR should be lower, but I'm not convinced I'm pushing hard enough.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Bullfrogs
Thought I'd had a good race today, but official times are up and it's the same cr*ppy time as last year. Going to go tidy up, mope, and eat pizza with Phil and come back when I'm not in a stupid grump.
Bullfrogs.
Bullfrogs.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
The week that was:
Since last weekend's night run:
Swim:
Open water swim season is upon us, and the wetsuit has had a workout this week.
I did the 1k swim at the Takapuna Beach Series on Tuesday night. Official time was 18:26, including the run up the beach, but I'm pretty sure they subtracted 30 seconds somewhere- oh well, not complaining!
Then did the swim leg in the Karapiro Half Ironman for Team Buckeye. Finish time was in the realm of 39 minutes, which isn't particularly awe inspiring, though trying to keep a straight line for 2 straight ks in a wide river/lake was a bit tough. Arms have been stuffed all week, so suspect wetsuit swimming will take some getting used to! Luckily, there are few more opportunities to work on my open water racing skillz prior to the big one. Full details and pics on Mike's blog.
Bike:
No big adventures, just a few 1:30 - 2:00 rides around Aucks, with a lot of time on the North West bike path. A 2:00 ride is definitely feeling short now, which I suppose is the goal, and I'm also starting to be able to decide whether I want to attack hills, or just cruise, rather than puffing away just to survive.
Run:
My run is starting to come together. The new Mizunos are great, and feel much better than my big, heavy, clomping Brooks Adrenalines. My pace for any given HR level seems to be better (I'm not going to look fot data to back that up- I'm sure it'll disappoint!) Mostly it's been an hour here and there, and mostly on rolling hills around Herne Bay and Cambridge.
This week is a decent one, and we'll be ending it with the Contact Triathlon in 'Vegas. I'll be on tired(ish) legs, but still hoping to do some serious damage to last year's time!
Swim:
Open water swim season is upon us, and the wetsuit has had a workout this week.
I did the 1k swim at the Takapuna Beach Series on Tuesday night. Official time was 18:26, including the run up the beach, but I'm pretty sure they subtracted 30 seconds somewhere- oh well, not complaining!
Then did the swim leg in the Karapiro Half Ironman for Team Buckeye. Finish time was in the realm of 39 minutes, which isn't particularly awe inspiring, though trying to keep a straight line for 2 straight ks in a wide river/lake was a bit tough. Arms have been stuffed all week, so suspect wetsuit swimming will take some getting used to! Luckily, there are few more opportunities to work on my open water racing skillz prior to the big one. Full details and pics on Mike's blog.
Bike:
No big adventures, just a few 1:30 - 2:00 rides around Aucks, with a lot of time on the North West bike path. A 2:00 ride is definitely feeling short now, which I suppose is the goal, and I'm also starting to be able to decide whether I want to attack hills, or just cruise, rather than puffing away just to survive.
Run:
My run is starting to come together. The new Mizunos are great, and feel much better than my big, heavy, clomping Brooks Adrenalines. My pace for any given HR level seems to be better (I'm not going to look fot data to back that up- I'm sure it'll disappoint!) Mostly it's been an hour here and there, and mostly on rolling hills around Herne Bay and Cambridge.
This week is a decent one, and we'll be ending it with the Contact Triathlon in 'Vegas. I'll be on tired(ish) legs, but still hoping to do some serious damage to last year's time!
Monday, November 09, 2009
Xterra trail series, race 4 (starlight event) : a race report in haiku
running in the dark
all 'round a mountain bike park
with husband in tow
some steep hills, too:
up to twenty five percent
hell on my poor calves
pizza at the end
running with my bestest friend
fantastic event!
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Helping me get perspective...
...is my dear bloggie-friend Pip, whose latest post explains her recent absence from blogland.
Pip- enjoy recovery. And once you're back on your feet, how about joining me in Wanaka in 2011?
Pip- enjoy recovery. And once you're back on your feet, how about joining me in Wanaka in 2011?
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
My non-whiny race report is on its way. Sloooowly.
For now, some not-so-hot photos of me finishing (and even VIDEOS. Can you spot me?).. and some much hotter photos of Phil sprinting off the Bald Guy in Black (and "winning", although subsequent stalking shows that the Bald Guy in Black was actually faster).
Enjoy!
For now, some not-so-hot photos of me finishing (and even VIDEOS. Can you spot me?).. and some much hotter photos of Phil sprinting off the Bald Guy in Black (and "winning", although subsequent stalking shows that the Bald Guy in Black was actually faster).
Enjoy!
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Not too bad...but not too good either
1:51:01
AHR 174
I gave it a good, solid go, and I'm really glad I finally got to race healthy, do my best, and have some fun.
It's just a pity that on a day with perfect conditions, of PBs being crushed and expectations exceeded left, right and centre, my best wasn't what I hoped it could be. Nothing like it.
Here's a pretty picture of cumulative pace.
AHR 174
I gave it a good, solid go, and I'm really glad I finally got to race healthy, do my best, and have some fun.
It's just a pity that on a day with perfect conditions, of PBs being crushed and expectations exceeded left, right and centre, my best wasn't what I hoped it could be. Nothing like it.
Here's a pretty picture of cumulative pace.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Umm...
...it seems that whenever you plan to be slammed at work, and refocus your priorities so the goal is survival, work ends up being "not too bad, considering..."
This hasn't been an ideal taper week, but it hasn't been the hell I anticipated either. I've left the office by 8-8:30 every night so far, and it looks like tonight will be similar. Far from the all-nighters I was fearing.
So, (apart from the knee I dinged mountain biking) there's no excuses this weekend!
This hasn't been an ideal taper week, but it hasn't been the hell I anticipated either. I've left the office by 8-8:30 every night so far, and it looks like tonight will be similar. Far from the all-nighters I was fearing.
So, (apart from the knee I dinged mountain biking) there's no excuses this weekend!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)