Erica’s Wildflower race report 2010

I remember joking last year at Wildflower that I wanted to do the long course in 2010, just because it would be worth it to race Saturday and enjoy watching the collegiate competition on Sunday (and not drive home immediately after finishing). It still hasn’t sunk in that I actually did it, and honestly enjoyed almost every minute of it.

Saturday started out with cool air temperatures, a bowl of oatmeal with peanut butter and a banana, and a bowl of scrambled eggs with extra bacon (thank you chef Blair!). I love race days. Sydney, Melissa and I headed down from camp to the transition area at 7:30, dodging gravity-fearing mountain bike course competitors the whole way down lynch hill. All three of us were racked together, but we each went through our separate transition setup routines. It was good to get down there early. After waiting in line for 15 minutes for body marking and almost 25 minutes for the port-a-pots, the pros were starting to come out of the water.

We took a few minutes to enjoy watching the elite men and women dash through T1, then it was time to start our own race. The water was perfect for wetsuit swimming (it was a little chilly in just a swimsuit when we were playing around on Friday) and as soon as I hit the water I thought I had died and gone to heaven. After being out of the water for the last 8 weeks (except for a brief splash at Nationals) it was such a treat to not only be swimming, but to be out in open water under a perfectly blue sky. I learned my lesson last year and chose to start at the very back, and enjoyed the experience of passing (and possibly clobbering) others instead of being the one in the middle getting beat up. All too soon it was over (I swear it flew by faster than my time reflects!! It was gone in an instant!), and I was out and running up to transition. I was just happy as a clam, and sad as I was to be out of the water I had a nice long bike ride to look forward to. Pretty soon I was off and riding. I was barely out of transition when it seemed like our team was just everywhere. Talk about a cheer section, who knew they could cover so many places at once!!! I was feeling great, although a little frustrated by being stuck behind people taking up the left side of the lane and going slow, but I figured I wasn’t in much of a rush and just settled in to enjoy the ride. At the top of the first hill (not Lynch, but pretty similar) I had two realizations. First, I needed to avoid trying to climb hills behind guys that were probably both twice my age and my weight and weaving back and forth across the road (although kudos to them for getting out and doing it!). Second, my two Odwalla bars (420 of my 900 calories) were still safely stashed in transition, and not “on bike—in pocket” as labeled. My mind doesn’t work very well when riding, and I never really did actually figure out a “nutrition plan B”, but I managed to stay a step ahead of my body and it seemed to work. Pretty soon (and one tuxedo-print-speedo at an aid station later) we were out into wine country. Yes. Vineyards as far as the eye could see. All too soon mile 35 was upon me and it was time for a serious goo-chowing before the little hill known as Nasty Grade. At mile 40, I was feeling well fed, quite content, and ready to gear down and show that thing who was boss. Maybe it’s a sign to push harder when you have plenty of breath to encourage the guys (again, not exactly my age group or physique) you’re passing to keep on chugging away, but I sure had fun. I thought I couldn’t possibly be up it already when I saw the bunny. Why anyone would dress in a pink bunny costume and beat a drum to encourage you us the false summit is beyond me, but I was glad he was there. Just a little more chugging (“the hill will break before I do!!”) and it was time to go downhill. The descent was hampered a little by a headwind and sissies using their brakes in the left side of the lane (nothing wrong with staying in control, but don’t impede the capabilities of the idiots out there :-D) but was incredible nonetheless. Just a few hills later I was back in transition. By T2 it was time for more sunscreen. Didn’t really do much except adding on a minute to transition, but at least I can say I tried. The run was definitely the most challenging part of the course. My legs were tired, and I began to feel the heat and get a little lightheaded. The aid stations made it enjoyable, but the best part was definitely just before mile 8. Before I turned into the campground, some spectators warned me that my teammates were having entirely too much fun. Even so, I wasn’t expecting such a loud crowd of beavers cheering me on at the bottom of the only hill in the campground (really guys? I couldn’t walk it?). I was barely halfway when I could see more of our lovely ladies waiting at the top. Oh wait, no, here comes Pam. Time to step it up. That crazy girl must have put in at least 4.5 miles of running, taking each of us (as I found out later) from the top of the hill all the way around to our campsite, holding up a “Go Beavers” sign, yelling at the top of her lungs, and insisting in every way possible that we get practically a standing ovation through the campground. That was by far my fastest mile, and I was being pushed by a cheering lady in flip flops.

I had already run miles 8-12 earlier in the week, so I knew what to expect. I kept my momentum up through mile 9, flew down the hill to mile 10, and pretty much fell apart. It wasn’t that I couldn’t keep going. I had plenty of steam, and the confidence from running it previously. What I lacked was desire. The day had been so much fun, and so incredible, that I was really upset about the thought of it being over. In retrospect, there was probably a certain degree of tiredness/hunger/overheatedness factoring into a lack of rational thought, but the bottom line was that this was an incredible experience that I was not ready to let go of. I walked up the hill from mile 10 to 11, and pulled myself together. The last two miles were a blur; just one foot in front of the other up the last hill, then bombing down lynch hill like there was no tomorrow, and then across the finish line. And then it was over. No more stalling to be done, no more dawdling possible. My race that day was finished. I came in faster than the goal I had set for myself, but what I really took away from this race was the pure joy I felt out on that course. Sure, there is plenty of room for improvement. But now I know how much fun it can be.

Also, thanks to everyone who has believed in me and encouraged me tomove out of my comfort zone and really try and improve at this thing we call triathlon (rumor has it the rest of the population affectionately refers to it as "crazy"). I just had the most incredible experience with my first half ironman, and it is thanks to many of you (sorry guys, too many to list :-) ) that I felt confident enough to even give it a try. Keep up the great work as a team and lets get more suckers out there hooked on this great sport!!!