Hyde Park Crit

Without going into details, near the end of May, I was doing hill repeats up Everett and cracked my road bike frame.  It took a while, but the lifetime guarantee resulted in me getting a new 2013 frame.  I received this frame exactly 2 days before my first race back.

My first race back was  Tour de Grandview.   While last year’s course was tough with a significant climb on the loop, this year’s course looked more inviting, but in fact, ended up being way more painful.  My heart rate before the race even started was in the 140s.  Early in the race, I made a bad mistake trying to take a corner and ended up doing a header into a bush. 

Of course there is photographic evidence, which left my boyfriend to ask, “what were you looking for in that bush?

To which I responded, “My cycling skills apparently.”

 

Fortunately, my bike held up, and I was able to get back to the start for a free lap and get back in the race.  (Note: In crits, until about 3-5 laps to go, you have what are called “free laps.”  If you have a mechanical or are somehow impeded, you can go off course to the START/FINISH and an official will push you back into the race).  A  couple of laps later, some lady just walked out into the field.  I doubt she will make that mistake again as she softened everyone’s fall, but one racer was carted off in an ambulance, another girl’s $4K frame was a goner, and I was on the ground once again.  I got back up, they then neutralized the race for 20 minutes, and then re-started the race with 3 laps total.  I ended up getting 12^th, but it wasn’t the greatest race.  I had a few cuts and bruises, a few muscles felt tweaked, but I knew that I wouldn’t really be able to assess the damage until the next morning.

I then drove down to Cincinnati to spend the night at a friend’s uncle’s house.  As I drove, I called my coach and told him basically that racing the rest of the weekend was completely dependent on how I felt in the morning.  I also told him that if that race had been my first, it would have been my last.  He understood.  I called my boyfriend who was about as sympathetic as possible, glad I was okay, and then I called my mother who suggested that I needed to find a new sport. 

After driving around the apparently small town of Cleves, Ohio, I finally found the house of said uncle.  I was a good hour earlier than all the other guys coming down, but I wanted out of Columbus in a bad way.  Eventually, everyone else staying there showed up, and we all found our little niches on the floor of the basement (note: fully furnished, super nice, comfy carpet floor).  I don’t think I have ever slept so well on an air mattress.

When I woke up, I had that pre-movement realization that the next instance was going to make or break my weekend.  Would I be in lots of pain and be foregoing racing, or would my body have taken the blows with only minor stiffness?  I slowly moved to collect my glasses and low and behold, I felt pretty good.  My left glut was definitely sore, but all things considered, I was shocked by how good I felt. 

Apparently, the bagel I had had for dinner the night before hadn’t quite been enough as I was absolutely starving when I woke up.  I went upstairs and ate my breakfast and some of Sunday’s as well.  I sat and chatted with one of the guys I didn’t know, Jeremy, and discovered he was quite the accomplished cyclist.  He offered to take a look at my bike as I told him of my coach’s concerns post crash.  He noticed that the derailleur hanger wasn’t too bad at all, noticed what gears it didn’t like, but agreed that I shouldn’t be racing in them regardless so it wouldn’t be a problem.  He also went through the course we would be racing that day and gave a pretty accurate depiction of what to notice and which lines are optimal.  After discussing things like Strava segments and recent rides I had done, he told me that he thought the course would suit me well and suggested that I should attack and see what happens.

After getting lost a couple of times and struggling to find somewhere to park, I finally settled into a nice church parking lot.  I had plenty of time, but wouldn’t really let myself getting ready until noon for my 12:50 race.  My boyfriend had sent me a text and it simply said, “Give ‘em Hell !”  I don’t know why, but that stuck with me.  I did my typical soft pedal warm up.  I had noticed that the 180 turn, of which I was fearful, was left to right, which is the opposite direction of anything that I had ever practiced so I took a piece of closed off road and practiced going left to ride or clockwise through a 180 turn.  I got my heart rate up on a false flat and generally told myself to trust in my abilities. 

Then, with about 10 minutes to go in the men’s CAT 4/5, it started to rain and rain kind of hard.  All I could think of was Jeremy saying how he hoped it wouldn’t rain.  My socks were a little soaked, but I just told myself that we were all racing the same race with the same conditions, can’t do much about it.

I rode a few laps of the course, and as always, women just flew by me.  I don’t know why, but that always makes me feel okay, like, they look at me and think, look at that turtle, she won’t be an issue to beat.

They had us stage near the bottom of the hill and ride up to the start/finish.  Many of the women were a little nervous about the conditions and the words “safe” and “cautious” seem like appropriate adjectives to describe the attitude towards the race.

The course start/finish was about 30 yards before a flat and kind of wide 180 through to a straight away that was probably a third of a mile to a narrow left turn up a hill that had about 40 feet of elevation gain over .1 of a mile, a right turn up a little more to the top, then a right turn down the hill and a right turn at the bottom to the straight away that was about a quarter of a mile long to the START/FINISH.  I am guessing on distances, but that seems about right. 

Our race was 30 minutes long with no primes.  At the whistle, I started my watch and jumped to the front of the group  so I didn’t get behind anyone through the 180.  I had gone down twice the night before, and I wasn’t about to go down because someone else didn’t know how to ride.  I stayed in the front through the straightaway to the climb.  I kind of wanted to see how everyone else handled the hill.  I was in front and only a couple of people passed me on the hill.  I took that as a good sign and was able to stay near the front through the turn and the straight away.  I believe another woman was ahead of me, that woman and a couple close to me slowed down considerably as the group bunched up to go through the 180 for the second time, and as we made it through, I heard the sound of a tiring slipping and sure enough someone was one the ground.  I kind of looked at the other girl who made it through before the crash to see her reaction, and she didn’t do anything. 

I don’t know if I am proud or if I should have done it or what, but I took advantage of the crash and attacked through the 180.  I didn’t feel too bad as anyone who went down would get a free lap as we were right next to the START/FINISH so really it was the people upright who had to react.  I fully expected the entire field to catch me on the hill  but I rounded the turn, and there was still a gap.  I sliced through the downhill turn and no one caught me, I got to the start finish line, looked back and had a gap of about 5 seconds, which might not sound like much, but when you are going 21-22 mph, 5 seconds is about a 50 yard gap.  It might not have been that big at that point, but it was noticeable.

At that point, I had to make a decision.  I was about 6 minutes into a race that would be about 30 minutes long.  There was a huge field (at least for a CAT4 race) that, if they worked together, should be able to catch me.  Should I sit up and re-join the field, or should I try to stay away?  I opted to stay away from one main reason: my advantage was my ability to corner.  Going through it solo, I could slice through the 180 taking any line I wanted as fast as I wanted.  The field would have to slow down approaching that turn to take it safely, giving me probably a second or two advantage on every lap.  I also had my choice of lines through the narrow uphill turn and the fast downhill turn.  

With 24 minutes left in the race, there are several things happening, the most important of which is that we are racing an undefined number of laps.  In a crit that is timed, the officials calculate the average time it takes per lap, then after several laps, they put up a lap count to determine the ultimate length of the race.  It’s a double-edged sword, the faster I went, the more laps I would have to do and seemingly the longer the race would be, but the faster I went, the bigger the gap I had and the better the chance I had to win.  Yet, in a solo attack, the longer the race, the more of a disadvantage I had, if that makes sense.  Basically:  Faster à Winning à Longer  à Losing. 

For the first several laps on my own, there was no lap count, so I was literally racing to take up time.  They finally posted a lap count at 6.  I believe we did about 12-13 laps, so I probably did about 5 laps not having any idea how much longer I would have to try to keep my lead.

During the race, there was an announcer, and he was loud enough at the START/FINISH that I could hear the things he was saying.  At one point, I recall hearing him comment on my form, down in the drops, very even cadence, that I looked exactly the same every time I came through the START/FINISH.  I took that as a good sign as 1) CAT 4 women rarely get compliments on technique and 2) if I were starting to red line, then there were be cracks in my form.   I think he added something like, “she is showing you how to win a bike race.”  At later times in the day, I heard him say things like “see how the rider is looking back at the group to see how big of a gap there is, a sign that the effort is taking it’s toll.”  While I agree that I looked back because I was working hard and needed to make sure it wasn’t in vain, there were also times I looked back because it was just an impressive gap to have made. 

There were also spots where I knew people were cheering and while they initially weren’t cheering for me, I feel like my attack really excited the crowd and by the end almost everyone was cheering for me.  On the hill, there were people cheering for Nicole, whoever she was.  I could tell how I was doing based on where I was on the hill when they started cheering.  When I no longer heard them cheering for Nicole, I knew that my gap was pretty significant. 

Finally, I got to the START/FINISH and saw 6 on the lap count.  Oh thank goodness!  I started counting down the number of times I had to climb the hill, that’s all I really wanted, a number of times I was going to have to climb that stupid hill.

During the race, I had about 3-4 people giving me time splits (how much time I had on the field).  One of the guys I trained with was an official for the race, and while he couldn’t really cheer for me over everyone else, I would look for him every time through, I knew he was cheering for me, and it helped.  I saw one of the guys I used to race at Westlake, and he was really excited and gave me that bit of encouragement I needed when I was just wanting the effort to end.  Another one of the guys I train with was there with his wife and family, and he was cheering for me as well, giving me time splits.

Then, with about 3 laps left, I heard the announcer say that they were starting to work to reel me back in and my split had dropped from 12 seconds to 9 seconds.  I started doing the math and knew that I still had an advantage on the turns, so it was unlikely they had enough to catch me given 3 seconds a lap, but I opted to push a little harder on that next lap.  I dug a little deeper, telling myself that hell or high water, there was no way anyone was going to catch me.

Looking back, It kind of reminded me of when I first started riding, and my now coach held these Wednesday night workouts.  There was one person that everyone knew was my nemesis.  When we would do time trial workouts, someone would usually say “just imagine ‘insert name here’ right behind you.”  I used to joke that I would cut off my arm if that is what it took to make sure she didn’t pass me.  That’s how I felt at the end of the race—I wasn’t going to get caught. 

When I came back through, my split was back up to 13 seconds.  At that point, with two laps left, that gap was going to stick unless I did something stupid.  When I came back through for the bell lap, the time was up to nearly 20 seconds, the chase had given up to conserve for the final sprint, the race was mine.

On my last lap, I smiled at all the people giving me splits throughout the race, and I told the people on the hill that I was happy that I wasn’t going to have to see them ever again.  I got to the finish line and gave an exuberate scream and arm pump.  I would have raised both arms, but I didn’t want to be that idiot who crashes a few feet before or after the finish.

After taking a cool down lap and seeing some friends in staging, the announcer called me over to interview me after the race, and I talked him through my race and why I was confident I could stay away.  It was interesting that, as I was talking, the 2^nd and 3^rd place finishers were standing there, and they nodded in agreement that my advantages were significant and that my thought process throughout the race was dead on in regard to how the attack could work.  I also gave my friend who was an official a hug. 

Some afterthoughts:

1. Even as one of the first races of a long day of racing, there were hundreds of people out along the course.   It was really cool to race with so much crowd support.  In fact, later in the day, I went to buy a cookie and some people stopped me and said, “hey, you were that girl who did the solo attack in the women’s race.  That was awesome!”  It was cool to know that not just my friends were cheering for me.

2. My friend’s wife was saying how annoyed she was getting with the announcer, particularly when he said that they were reeling me in.  I guess my gap wasn’t getting that much smaller, and she wanted to yell, “No they are not!”  Ultimately, I doubted there would be sufficient organization in a CAT4 race to do the work to catch me and no one was willing to do the work on her own.

3. I wonder if this race would have been so sweet if it weren’t preceded by such a miserable race the night before.  I was so excited to call my coach, and he was so ecstatic.  I was kind of surprised, I even felt compelled to say, “you know Pete, it was only a CAT4 race.”  To which he said, “it’s one of the biggest races in the state, enjoy it!”

4. It was probably about the best 30 minutes I have had on my bike.  My average heart rate for the race was about 186, while it was starting to climb the longer the race went.  Below you can see the chart efforts, pretty consistent, although the heart rate started to climb the further the race went.

Run for Regis Race Report

If ever a race was about the training and not the actual race, this race was it.  I believe that I enjoyed training for this race more than any race I have ever done. 

Pre-race, the most notable thing that happened in the morning was that I couldn’t find the wrist strap for my garmin.  I threw things around my apartment like…well, like an endurance athete who couldn’t find the wrist strap to her Garmin.  I spent about 10 minutes scouring my apartment until I found it already packed in my workout bag.  I love giving myself panic attacks before races, it seems to be a trend.

Usually, pre-race instructions are pretty blah, but the race instructions for this race had that incredible combination of being quite funny and very inspiring.  Often, while training for this race, I would make the comment that we are so lucky to live here, which is kind of surpring to hear me say.  I mean, I often say things like “moving to Australia, going back to the DR,” but the bottom line is that living so close to a National Park with all of its miles of trails and beautiful roads, we are just lucky.  Adding to that the story of Regis and his fight with cancer hit a little close to home and made me appreciate the life I get to live.

The course had two loops: an orange loop and a green loop.  The orange loop was about 8.4 miles the green loop was 4.7, making a half marathon.  The people running the full or the 50k started on the green loop, the rest of us started on the orange loop.  In training, I had run the orange loop several times, but I had only run a very small portion of the green loop, so I didn’t quite know what it had in store for us.

As our wave started, I made my left turn and listened to the advice a friend had said before the race, “I am going to run so I can finish.”  The course is 1) pretty hilly and 2) was extremely muddy.  At times, the mud was so thick, I couldn’t help but walk, there were other times when I was running in the mud, and it literally sucked my shoes off my feet. 

For the most part, I ran flats and downhills, walked steps, muddy downhill steps, and places were the mud was just non-negotiable.  This plan of attack seemed to work pretty well.  Often, the side of the trail was the easiest to navigate so I was usually running there.  Having been in the 4^th wave, I passed quite a few people, something that still surprises me in running races.  I would try to make jokes, pretty stupid and cheesy, like “Hey, I think you have some mud on your shoes.”  I always feel like it is important, especially in a race like this one, to say something encouraging to people either passing me or to people I pass.  I do this pretty much anytime I run: in a race, in a triathlon, or even when running on the towpath or Sand Run. 

Early in the race, I was on some pretty muddy stairs, and someone grabbed my arm to catch her balance.  She apologized, and I said that it was no big deal, I made a joke about how I had grabbed a friend’s hips when I slipped on the ice a few weeks back, and that was much more embarrassing.  Just as I finished that story, the hand of the man running in front of me hit me in a…let’s say more embarasssing location than the hips.  With the mental, “oh geez,” I hurried out of there.  Note to self: don’t stand around telling stupid stories, get out of people’s way.

There was one section that I knew was pretty flat and upon thinking about the course beforehand, I thought would likely have standing water, which turned out to be the case.  I was slightly over-dressed as I feared getting too cold if it had rained, but I kind of found the water in the shoes refreshing. 

As I approached the first aide station, I saw a teammate heading back to the trail.  I gave him a high five and made my way out.  I was pretty happy when I got to the first aide station.  I was surprised that I knew almost everyone there.  Espeed, from cyclo-cross glory, grabbed by water bottle from me and filled it for me, and after posing for a from another Elizabeth and saying hi to a few others, I made my way out of there.  Although I probably could have used a bathroom break, I opted to get out of there quickly.

I was feeling good, thinking I was running pretty well and continued around Kendell Lake to make my way back up to the Ledges.  Now, this portion of the trail has always been kind of a problem for me.  If I have been trying to stay up with Janet and that crew, it’s about 5 miles into the run that my body reminds me that I am not meant to run with these people and start to fade (more than I already have).  I started to notice that my pace was starting to slow.  I told myself that I needed to eat and while I feared how my stomach would handle it, I knew it was not a negotiation, there was still a long way to go and breakfast wasn’t going to last as long as this race.  I ate some citrus shot blocks (still from my winnings from Tour of the Valley), and my stomach let me know that a bathroom break would be in order at the next aide station. 

A little bit later, there was a bit of confusion on the course.  The course wasn’t marked, and I, along with two others, went to the right.  After about a minute, they yelled that they were sure it’s the wrong way, and we all turned around…and I am glad they did.  As it turned out, many people continued down that way, including Jen P and fellow teammate Gary B. 

Jen P then passed me around mile 7 or 8 and was pretty upset that she had indeed gone off-course, but man, did she fly by me!  Shortly after that run-in, I made it to the next aide station.  I saw teammates Gary and Ben standing there, so I said hi as I got my final water bottle fill and made my way to the restroom.  Yes, the stomach was officially unhappy, but the slower pace of trail running seemed to make it manageable.  When I got back out, Ben had already made his way to the next loop and Gary was still standing there.

As we made our way on this loop, Gary told me about his frustrations of going off-course, adding a few miles to his day.  Upon hearing that, I had two thoughts: 1) you have to be a steller athlete to be able just to add a few miles to an already long run and 2) THANK GOD that wasn’t me!

Gary quickly ran up ahead of me, but then we got to another part of the course, and I had to yell at him as he had gone the wrong way.  He righted the ship and off he went.  I was pretty much in “get this done mode” but found it kind of cool that at one point, Gary was about 10 yards ahead of Ben who was then 10 yards ahead of me.  We stayed that way for a bit, but I could tell that both Gary and Ben were running out of steam.  About half way through this loop, I passed Ben, but I never made much ground on him.  While I would slow down and walk uphills and/or really muddy sections, Ben just kept on running, passing me a time or two.  It was about this time that Eddie P, who was officially lapping me, on his second green loop, flew past me like he was born to run in the mud.  It was shocking to see how fast he was able to move.

I was basically running with Ben when my watch beeped for the 12 mile mark.  I had told a friend that I had expected to finish between 2:30-2:45, hoping I would be closer to 2:30 than the latter.  I knew I wasn’t going to break 2:30, but I knew I could still keep it close.  Then, I thought about my friend J. Mack who ran with me at the Cleveland Marathon 10k who said that he had a rule about no walking in the last mile.  I told myself that I had nothing else to do today other than finish this race and that running wasn’t going to take that much more energy than walking so I started running and stopped when I hit the finish line.  I ended up finishing in 2:33:40.  Ironically enough, it is NOT my slowest half marathon, that title still goes to the half marathon at Musselman in 2011 when my stomach was oh so ticked off and the closest I have ever come to DNFing a triathlon.

It was a great way to start the 2013 racing season!  It was kind of cool that I was kind of bittersweet the race was over as I had enjoyed the training for it, but then Joey reminded me that many of us had signed up for Barry-Roubaix in March and that we would need to plan training for that race.  Sweet!  Goodbye mud, hello gravel!

iBelieve 10k Trail Run Race Report

As you can tell, this crazy single female tried quite a few new things this year: road racing, cyclo-cross, and the latest being trail running. This past fall, I was, to use my high school student’s phrasing, “talking to” a guy who was an endurance trail runner. So, of course, on our first date, we opted to go on a trail run, and I have to admit: I absolutely loved it! My love for trail running has lasted longer than that particular relationship, especially as I have been gearing up to run my first half trail marathon at Run for Regis.

I feel like a little back story is necessary here. I ran my first marathon February 11, 2007 in Birmingham, Alabama. I trained for that race with a wonderful running group, particularly with a friend CL. CL has children my age, but despite a generation gap, we became very close through the training. There is a certain closeness that training partners develop, and there was no doubt that we helped each other out through the highs and lows both in training and in life. The four months that I trained for that race were the best running days I had ever experienced. I absolutely loved the power, strength, and confidence it gave me and then sadly, I was hit by a car less than two months later. I am not going to go through all the highs and lows of the accident, but the broken toe that I suffered created problems with my running gate and eventually led to problems in my hips that still require a great deal of attention. I recall one run in general, right after breaking up with the guy of the month, where I broke down, started sobbing on a run with CL and our close friend AV because I was just emotionally and physically broken. Although I have had some excellent running races after the accident, running had definitely lost its luster.

With that said, it amazes me how I find myself enjoying running again and am grateful to that guy for finding that in me once again.

Now...back to the race report:

Pre-race: I have discovered that if I eat my breakfast as soon as I wake up, I am more inclined to have a more agreeable stomach while I am running.  They had also sent out an email mentioning the limited parking so I got to the race about an hour before the race start so I wouldn’t have a long walk before or after the race.  I picked up my packet, went to the bathroom, then proceeded to sit in my car until about 5 minutes before the race started.  It just felt too cold to stand outside and wait.  I got out, went to the bathroom one more time, then got to my starting place.  I chatted with the guy next to me, also doing the 10k, wished him luck, and thought to myself: it’s quite possible I will get dead last in this race.  Let me explain my reasoning:

1. I believe that 90% of the people were doing the 5k, meaning the 10k was a pretty small field.

2. It was a trail run, not a road race.  In my thinking, trail running isn’t really for the casual runner, so all the other women were likely actual trail runners.

3. It was pretty muddy, and I had no trail shoes.

Race: The race started, and I started making my way through the field, the first quarter mile was on road.  I got to the trail, and it was wet and muddy from the get-go, and I started slipping and sliding.  This course lacked two big things: elevation and traction…and it kind of reminded me of a cross race.  Anyone know what a Proustian moment is?  Well, slipping in the mud was my version of the Proustian madelines, and I was instantaneously racing like I would a cross race and not like I would a running race.  (If Mrs. Korosa happens to read this blog post, I almost wrote macaroons instead of madelines, throwing in a little Ibsen in there, thought you might appreciate that little slip).  Anyway, I was completely focused on picking the line that appeared to have the best traction, chasing down the people ahead of me, and feeling that z5, all-out race effort.

I also noticed a friend of a friend out there taking photos.  As I passed her, I tried to explain who I was, but I figured that it was probably a waste of energy.  I had worn what I thought was an appropriate amount of clothes, but I was pretty warm, ended up unzipping my jacket and wishing that I had worn shorts rather than tights, oh well.

I passed several people on the first loop, made it back to the turn-around and noticed that there was only one woman ahead of me…but then, my stomach decided it was a little upset, requiring a stop in the POP.  It was a waste of a couple of minutes, and I suddenly realized that my stomach was still pretty upset.  After about a half mile, I had to walk to try to calm down my stomach.  In those moments of walking, another woman passed me.  I started thinking about how the race would play out if I continued to let my stomach control my pace, and in a Jens Voigt-like moment, I said to myself, “Shut up stomach, I am not losing because of you.”  I had a flashback of some of the bigger races in which my stomach screwed me over (IM Wisconsin) and opted to keep pushing.  It didn’t take long, I quickly re-passed the lady who had passed me in my low moment, and I refocused by attention to the person about a hundred yards ahead of me.  It took me about two miles to make up those 100 yards, but I finally caught the person and was kind of surprised to see that it was a guy.  I don’t know why, I knew there was only one woman ahead of me, but he and I started to talk as we had about a half mile left in the race, I had clearly spent way too much energy trying to catch him, and he was hurting just about as bad from trying to hard to fend me off.  As we neared the chute, he let me go ahead, and I finished the race in 1:00:12.

After finishing the race, I felt about as spent as I usually do after a cross race and about as equally thirsty.  A lady came over to me and said that I was the 1^st overall female, “HUH???”  I could have sworn there was a female ahead of me…and let’s face it, I don’t win running races.  I took the ceremic ornament and was through the roof excited.  Maybe the woman went off course?  Maybe the woman hadn’t registered?  Kept running?  I don’t know…but then the results came out a week later, and I was indeed 2^nd overall.  I was a little embarrassed, but 2^nd overall is still way better than the dead last expectation that I had set for myself.  As I have said from the getgo, there obviously weren’t that many serious trail runners at this first year event, but you can only compete against those who show up.  I should also say, though, that I have never raced a running race before.  I have never chased people down and never thought about the efficiency of my cadence and of picking the right line.  As much as I don’t particularly enjoy cyclo-cross, I can thank it for this race result.

Thankfully, I have done a few runs with Janet E and her crew in the last few weeks to keep my ego in check.

Hiram Cyclocross Race Report

After some significant peer pressure, I caved and opted to do the Hiram Cyclo-cross race. The race was at the beginning of December so my memory is a little foggy, but here are some of the highlights.

The Weather: what else would it be except cold and rainy.

The Course: Cold and rainy, cold and MUDDY. The course was about 1.4 miles long had a narrow snake section with lots of turns in what turned into sloppy mud. There were turns around the Christmas trees, one curving descent into a pretty steep uphill followed by more turns around potential Christmas trees, another roller which led into an extended false flat. There was also a bump up to where the course was near the road that was 1) unrideable and 2) nearly impossible to run up while carrying the bike. There was also a lap around a small pond, which was the most rideable section of the course, but it had two barracades to break up any potential for speed on the course.

Game Plan: Sprint to get to the front so people couldn’t pass in the narrrow section then hold on for dear life!

What Happened: I managed to out-sprint everyone to the first turn after the start. I was in the lead for probably the first quarter of the first of two loops until I got to a turn in which I just couldn’t get my right foot clipped back into the pedal and was passed by eSpeed who was clearly frustrated by being behind me in the narrow course. I was just unfamiliar with the pedals and wasn’t able to get them to cooperate with me.  I would say the inability to get clipped back in because of the mud was my undoing in this race. In the turns around Christmas trees, I dropped down to 3rd as I couldn't manage to get clipped into my pedals.  I was never able to get the pedals to cooperate, most likely because both my pedals and my shoes were clogged with mud.  The initial sprint also left me kind of fried. It was a horrible race, but I continued to race hard the entire time despite making no apparent ground on 2nd and 4th not being that close behind me. Because of the conditions, we only managed 2 laps, which was fine by me! It was miserable!
Other things: it was in the 40’s and raining so I wore what I would wear for a road ride in the 40's. As it turns out, cyclocross is more similar to dress for how I would dress for a run and not a bike ride. I was wearing tights and long sleeves under my jersey, and I was roasting! With no water during the race, I finished the race and had horrible cotton mouth, and sadly, there was no water to be found until I managed to get back to my belongings where I had left a bottle of water.

I ended up getting third, a nice podium finish to end out the cycling season, but I didn’t feel like race particularly well. I did have fun heckling others as they dealt with the progressively worse conditions throughout the day.

I should thank Andrew Miller for giving me a ride, it was nice not to have to drive all that way for a race.

Chagrin Cyclocross Race Report

For no tangible reason, I felt compelled to do a cyclocross race.  I borrowed a cross bike from my friend Bill who broke his collarbone and was unable to race for the first part of the cross season.  I got it a little less than a week before the race, and I rode the bike twice: the day I got it for about half hour around my parents back yard and the next day on the towpath for about half an hour.

The race I decided to do was a costume race.  Feeling a complete lack of creativity and having the added restraint of it not wanting to limit my movement on the bike, I went to the old standby catholic school girl.  Despite having gone to catholic school for eight years, I was unable to find a skirt or one I could borrow so I ended up going to a store and buying one.  As a sidenote, buying a catholic uniform skirt made me feel pretty sketchy.  I wasn’t even wearing the skirt to a party, and I felt a sense of guilt objectifying catholic school girls in a certain fashion. 

Anyway, the race was on the Saturday before Halloween, and it was cold and rainy.  Racing CAT4 in cross has one big advantage and one big disadvantage.  The advantage, and it was a HUGE advantage on that day, was that we got to race before the course was completely destroyed.  The disadvantage is that we weren’t racing for money, but for medals.  Regardless, I got there, got my number, and opted to do a practice loop.   I think it took about one minute to realize I was completely unprepared for this race.  About 85% of the 1.5 mile loop was mud, there were some very technical turns, some standing water in ditches, and a few logs that required either jumping or dismounting.  It is not a good feeling when you are riding your bike and see what is ahead and ask the question, “How the heck do I ride across that?”  Consequently, I fell twice during the PRACTICE loop.  I think I estimated that it took me about 15 minutes to do one loop.   Our race was for 30 minutes, so I tried to comfort myself that the most I would have to do is three loops. 

After getting back, I talked to some friends and gave my camera to a friend Gary.  I opted to take off my rain jacket and tell myself that if I got cold, I just needed to work harder.  The official didn’t like where I had my jersey pinned so with about three minutes before we were supposed to start, I frantically repinned my number onto my jersey (a liittle déjà vu from first crit this summer).

They let the CAT5 men out about a minute ahead of us, then we started with the juniors.  The beginning of the loop was a relatively grass straightaway for maybe a tenth of a mile to what narrowed to almost a single-track.  At the start, I worked pretty hard to try to get ahead of the field to limit how many people I would be behind when the course narrowed, and it would be difficult to pass.  I found myself in 3^rd as we approached the more technical section.  I felt like I was doing pretty well until I got to the second ditch when I went down, came up and fell over.  I fell in the same spot on the practice loop so I had definitely been anxious about this spot and would remain so throughout the course of the race.  It took me a few moments to get back on the bike, and by the time I got back on course, two women had passed me, including future teammate Michelle. 

I did a fairly good job through the technical section until I got to a section of close turns, and I fell again.  There was then some standing water over mud, and I just couldn’t pedal the bike through the junk so I basically walked through it.  I didn’t dismount, so I was walking the bike like I had no concerns over time!  There were also a couple of logs on the course.  One I basically rode over every time, one I usually hit with my bike, then got off my bike and carried over it, then remounted after putting the chain back on the bike.  I was pretty ridiculous.  I believe the line running through my head was usually, “Way to ride like an idiot Marie!”

After what felt like miles of techinical riding, the course opened up to a less muddy section with three logs, then the fastest part of the course on a gravel driveway before the start/finish line.  I know that I was back in 3^rd place by the time I got back into the single track section of the course on the second loop.  Now, there are things that happen in races every once in a while that stick with me forever, and I think that on this second loop is one of those moments.  We were approaching the ditch where I had bit it on the lap before, and my competitor behind me yelled up some instructions how to ride through the ditch.  Did you read that?  My competitor (and current/future teammate) Michelle HELPED me get through what was my biggest obstacle on the first loop without any problems.  Words cannot describe how I feel about this act of sportsmanship, humbled is the only one that comes to mind, and it doesn’t do her kindness justice.

I pretty much struggled in the same places on the 2^nd loop that I did the first.  Everytime I was starting to make progress, I would fall, or slide out, or forget to stop before the log, then spend a minute putting the chain back on the bike.  Seriously, I am kind of glad I was wearing a skirt as it distracted people from how pathetic my riding was. 

I know I was in 3^rd going into the 3^rd lap, and all I could think was, “WHERE IS THE FREAKIN’ BELL????  THERE IS NO WAY WE CAN DO FOUR LAPS IN 30 MINUTES!”  ‘RING THE STUPID BELL, I DON’T WANT TO DO TWO MORE LOOPS!”  I think it was on the 3^rd lap that I started to notice the friction caused by riding my bike with a skirt between the bike and chamois, that or Bill’s seat was really that uncomfortable (honestly, a possibility). 

Once again, I made it through the water ditch on the 3^rd lap without falling.  I believe I lost a lot of time on the log on this lap, but was doing pretty well.  Because I can never make things easy on myself, I went off course when heading for the 3 log crossing.  I nearly quit right there, I was so mad at myself!  I mean, I keep falling, doing stupid stuff, and was still in 3^rd.  What else can I do to sabatoge myself?  But then I reminded myself that I am not a quitter and that there is still a chance I can get back on the podium.  Heck, I wasn’t even sure that podium didn’t go five deep.

I rode back to where I went off course and worked to get back into 3^rd.  I believe it was the only lap that I finished not in 3^rd, but still having another lap was definitely bittersweet.  I wanted the opportunity to fight back for 3^rd, but I nearly cried at the thought of having to ride through that stupid ditch again.  I was also steaming hot and had opted to throw my glasses as they were just fogging up and just getting annoying.  (I thought I knew where I threw them, as it turns out, they have been lost forever).

I passed Michelle for what was either the 3^rd or 4^th time before getting to the single track.  I worked very hard and felt like I was making gains on getting distance, then would slip and lose time.  I should note that by this 4^th lap, the course was destroyed, riding through mud is hard work!  I was reaching my anaerobic threshold trying to hold off Michelle to keep my spot on the podium.  We approached the ditch, and I absolutely cringed, but I somehow made it through once again!  Shortly after the ditch, I came up on a junior and had to slow down.  I wanted to be careful when passing her as I didn’t trust myself not to hit her in a narrow section while trying to pass so I was stuck behind her for long enough that Michelle gained back some of the time I had put on her. 

We were basically neck and neck coming out of the technical section, and I just pushed with everything I had left!  I believe I was maybe a second ahead of her reaching the three logs the last time.  I can’t remember if she passed me on the logs or not, but she probably did, but I was fairly confident that I could outsprint her, which was ultimately the result.  I got third in my first cross race and was pretty excited about it except that I was completely gassed. 

When I finally wiped the wad of mud off my watch, I noticed that we went for about 46 minutes.  Do the math on that: 46/4=11.5.  46-11.5=34.5  34.5>30 minutes which was supposed to be the length of time we were supposed to race.  It was some of the hardest 46 minutes I have ever raced.  As an aside, there is dirt on my garmin that I believe will never come off the watch as it is still there nearly a month later.

Shortly after finishing, and I know it was shortly because I was still kind of panting, Bill asked me if I would race cross again, to which I responded, “I don’t know, that was really effing hard!”  For anyone that doesn’t race, if someone asks you that question when you are still in the pit of pain the race created, and you don’t say no, there is no way you aren’t racing again.  Heck, for the last two hours of Ironman Louisville, I was singing “One and Done!” to myself and still did another Ironman so the answer to that question is completely irrelevant to reality. 

After the race, Michelle told me that “she was going to make me work for it” which is beyond what she did out there.  I left this race feeling really happy, despite it being cold, I had a great time racing and spending time with friends.

Akron Half Marathon Race Report

I am pretty embarrassed by this race, but I am going to post this race report (although a few months late) anyway.  Sometimes, we have to be proud of our failures as much as our successes.
For the 3rd time, I opted to take advantage of the FirstEnergy discount and participated in the Akron marathon. Working in downtown Akron has a couple of advantages, and one of them is being able to walk to the race expo. I still don’t know that many people at the GO, but one of the few people I do know was also running the half, so we went over to the expo together. It was no WAC caravan of insanity, but it worked.
As we walked to the expo, we came across a man wearing an Obama mask. Some woman was talking to Fake-Obama and asked my friend if he would take a photo of her with Fake-Obama. He said sure, took the picture, then as we walked away, he started venting about how he couldn’t believe this woman would just give him her camera. He then said to me, “I swear, if you weren’t here, I would have totally taken off running with that woman’s camera. What is it about me that looks like I am a safe person just to give your camera?” I think I said something like, “Sure, okay. Too bad you are literally the nicest person I have ever met.”
We made our way through the expo with no real glitches. I ran into a few people at the expo, including cycling friend Pam. I have to say, Pam looks a ton different in a dress, kind of surprised I recognized her!

Race Morning:
Pre Race:
My mentor gave me a race strategy, which was basically run all out as long as possible, then just jog it in when I peter out. It sounded fine to me as I had pretty low expectations for the race.
For breakfast, I had a PB&J sandwich and some crackers. I had no problems getting to the race, I did get off the highway to take city streets, and I parked where I park every week day for work. I walked maybe a third of a mile to the starting line. I was a little upset with the location with the clothes’ drop, but I dropped my clothes off and hit the port-o-johns. I tried to find my friend Bill who told me he would be at the 3:40 pace group. I stood there looking and waiting, and no Bill.
I was starting to get cold so I went to the port-o-johns again. I was kind of grateful that there was so many as I was able to sit in there for a while and warm up.
Eventually, I made my way to the 4 hr pace group, kind of surprised I had not found Bill and not seeing anyone I knew, that never happens at Akron! As soon as I said that, I ran into a few people from my hometown (one of which is the guy whose heart stopped at mile 2 and is luckily okay).
I got to the 4 hour pace group, resigned not to see anyone, and looked to my right and saw fellow Cleveland Tri Club board member Marsita. We started the race together, but she looked much more prepared for the race, and I let her take off.
Race:
I have done the half twice before, and this year was the first year that I actually felt under-trained going into the half marathon. I did, however, actually taper for the race, and I was remarkably surprised by how good I felt running. The weather really was perfect, very similar to the conditions for my first marathon, and I just felt good.
I was wearing my garmin, but I honestly didn’t look at it once for the first half of the race, I was just enjoying running and being in good enough shape that I can run a half marathon when I am not sufficiently trained for it.

Mile 1: 9:35
I believe I ran into CTC-faithful Tiffany who was doing the full marathon. She looked great! She gave me some support, and I think I congratulated her on a great race at Rev3. I believe she went on to PR in the marathon, but don’t quote me on that one.
Mile 2: 9:24
While I wasn’t looking at my garmin, I was starting to gain a sense of my pace based on the clocks at the mile markers. It was clear that I was running a 9 something pace and felt pretty good about it.
Mile 3: 9:01
Now, my father has started volunteering at races in attempt to see his little girl out there racing. At Wisconsin, he volunteered in transition and never got to see me…he did get to see my bike as they took it back to its spot in transition, but no chance to give me a hug or a high five.  Last year at Akron, he volunteered for a water station…at mile 22 of the marathon course. Too bad I was running the half.  Then, at Cleveland, he did see me, although he missed his spot at the water station.  So, this year, his assignment was volunteering in the 1st exchange zone for the marathon relay. I figured that it wasn’t directly related to my race, but I should be able to see him, right? WRONG! This year, they opted to place the first exchange zone under a bridge so that the relay people would be out of the way of the marathon and half marathoners. Sorry dad, one of these races, we will figure this plan out!

I do have to admit that I really liked the decision to divert the relay people from the aid stations. It has always been a source of frustration that people running either the half or full distance would get cut off going to aid stations by people that felt they needed water after running a few hundred yards. (Sad, but true). I don’t mean to offend anyone who ran or has run the relay as there are some serious runners who choose to do the relay, but you also have people who I think run once a year and consequently don’t pay attention to the runners around them.

I also saw high school friend Justin aka a coverboy model wearing a Cleveland Browns getup. I was kind of surprised by how I recognized him despite wearing a helmet and dreads. Sometimes, my brain actually works.

Mile 4: 8:59

Yeah, looking at that split, it even surprises me, I ran a sub 9 minute mile in the middle of this race??? I was really going by feel and apparently, some rest enabled my legs to function.

Mile 5: 9:07
It was around this time that I saw friend and new teammate Zac by Goodyear/Firestone/Brown Street. He took a few photos, and then I assumed he was going to a cyclo-cross race.

Mile 6: 8:55

Seriously, 2 sub 9 minute miles in this race?

Here is when the race started to divert from the excellent race I was having, to what ended up being a bad bad race.

Mile 7: 9:10

It is at this point that I started looking for a port-o-john. I was hoping that I could make just one bathroom break then be done for the day. Hahaha, silly Marie!  Well, I waited a little too long and the line was pretty long, but I didn’t have much of a choice, well, I could have started asking random people if I could use their bathroom in their house, but that didn’t seem right.

Mile 8.3 (sorry, I hit the lap thing): 14:21

Ouch, that hurt, it was then that I noticed my pace went from about a 9:10 pace to a 9:30ish pace. Yeah, that stinks.
It was at this point, I started having flash backs to the marathon in 2010 where I spent WAY too much time in the port-o-johns. Instead of the stop in the port-o-john alleviating problems, it seemed to develop them even further.

Mile 9.3: 9:42

I believe it was about this point that I started dry-heaving. I have experienced stomach issues more times than I care to admit, but I have never dry-heaved in a race. Apparently, peanut butter is a big NEVER NEVER AGAIN pre-race food.

Mile 10.3: 10:49, yeap, I had to start walking around this point.  Damn you stomach!

Now, mile 10ish is where the course diverted from the old half course. Instead of heading down to the towpath from basically the University of Akron, the course went over the Y-bridge again and the half turned around like we did at mile 2 while the marathon and relay continued on Broadway to go down to the towpath on another, just as steep, hill.

Mile 11.3: 11:17

Starting to get discouraged…

Mile 12.3: 12:12

Beyond discouraged.

Finally .9 (my watch was long) 9:18

Total time: 2:12:23

Post Race:

I ended not finding anyone I knew after the race in the post-race crowd so after finding someone willing to take my beer tickets, I made the way back to my car. I have to say that it’s the first time I have ever run half where my legs didn’t hurt because my stomach really hampered my ability to run well enough to make them sore.

As I made my way to my car, I ran into cycling Pam once again and talked to her for quite a while. I was starting to get really cold so I finally made my way to my car to grab my sweats and change out of my running clothes.

I then made my way back to the finish line waiting for Bill…and waiting for Bill and waiting for Bill. He ended up missing his goal by about 10 minutes.  My favorite thing about this race (besides it being free) is listening to Bill talk about how he is never going to do this race again but then getting the eventual text that he can't pass up the big discount early bird registration.  Ha!  He has already signed up for 2013!

Not my worst half marathon, but nowhere near my best.  It happens.

Portage Lakes Sprint Triathlon

Portage Lakes Sprint Triathlon Race Report
I have raced at Portage Lakes three times before this year: two sprints and one olympic. I have only ever placed in the Olympic and almost always find myself in the toughest age group in the race despite being in a different age group since the last time I have raced. It is the only local sprint that I have done where I had never placed been in the top 3 of my age group.
For some reason, I really wanted to do this race this year despite being completely undertrained for it. I have swam a total of about 5 miles the ENTIRE summer. Yes, there was a single day in January when I swam more than I did in the months of June, July, August and so far September combined.
I had trained for the run for HTC, but I had done a total of 2 speed workouts, and I just forgot to run the week before this race. I could have run on Friday, but I didn’t want my legs to be tired. Any running right now leads to some soreness.
Enough of the background and the excuses…
Pre-Race:
It was freakin’ cold. When I went to go get body marked, the guy laughed at me because I had on so many layers of clothes. Considering it was about 50 degrees, I didn’t think 4 layers of clothes was excessive.  I was happy that I got there a little early as the body marking line got really long about a half hour later. I later heard that they stopped marking people’s calves because the line was so long.
I had no problem setting up my transition area. I had convinced Mentor to come out and race, and by the time I got there, he already had his transition setup. I milled around for a while chatting with teammates. One had pre-ridden the course before the race, and he mentioned a turn where you need to make sure you are in the little ring. I made a mental note of it and continued to chat with folks. Little did I know that they had changed the course since the three times I had raced it.
I talked to Tattoo Mike, who lent me his trislide spray to make it easier to get in my wetsuit and to prevent chafing. Apparently, he isn’t the biggest fan of being cold, so he switched from the tri to the duathlon and had no need for his swimming supplies. It worked great, and I was very appreciative!
After Wisconsin last year, I was really paranoid about putting on my wetsuit too early for fear of calf cramps crippling my swim. With about 20 minutes to go, I finally put on the wetsuit and headed to the bathoom one last time. I think it was in that line that I had my biggest moment of panic as I had dropped my goggles. Fortunately, they were only about 10 yards away from the line so it wasn’t that big a deal. I had another pair, but I had done this swim before and not wearing tinted goggles would have been a big problem.
I got down to the beach, and I noticed that the swim looked longer than expected. I guess I am used to these sprints where you basically get your feet wet and the swim is over, forgot that some sprints actually make you swim. Standing on the beach was absolutely torture in my sleeveless wetsuit. I was freezing and then standing on the cold wet sand was unbearable. I quickly wised up and stood in the water that was 72 degrees rather than on the 50 degree sand.
I stood there with Mentor, and I told him a bad joke, kind of a habit of mine to try to break the tension. He laughed, but then he reminded me of my all-time favorite story of what he saw while waiting for IM Lake Placid to start in 2009, and I started laughing hysterically. I needed to be relaxed, and it definitely helped. I don’t think I can tell the story in my blog, but if you know him, ask him about it. Regardless, I haven’t felt that calm before a race in a very long time.
The women were in the 4th wave so I got near the front and took off running when the gun went off. The course was a beach start, running in the water to a buoy then making a right turn to do a loop around the buoys. The first stretch of the loop was by far the hardest as it was almost due east, and with the sun, it was pretty much impossible to spot the buoy. Heck, I couldn’t even spot it on the shore before the race. After reaching that buoy, I got much more comfortable and fell into a rhythm. I didn’t think I was having a great swim, but I didn’t think I was slow as I feared. I knew I had caught up with a few guys in the waves ahead of mine, but not as many as I usually do. I do miss the days of colored swim caps. It was always a fun little game as to how many different colors could I catch on a swim. Oh well.  I made a wide turn around the final buoy but kept swimming until I hit sand, then stood up and ran to transition.
Swim: 14:39 (15th out of 107)
T1:
I ran up the hill and the long way to my transition rack. I stepped on my wetsuit to get it off my feet. I had my socks rolled down so they would be easy to slip on my wet feet. I put on my shoes, sunglasses, helmet, and I was off.
Time: 1:32 (not bad considering it took some time to get the wetsuit off)
Bike: I don’t have a mount for my Garmin on my tri bike so I carried it until I got on the bike, then put it on my wrist while exiting the park. I would say that I probably passed about 10 people before I even got out of the park. I realized just how bad a swim I had because I don’t ever recall passing that many women on the bike course, at least not in short course.
This race was the first time I had raced in an aero helmet, and HOLY COW, I almost think they should be illegal! My Garmin beeps every mile, and I honestly thought something was wrong with it because it didn’t seem like I could be ticking off miles that quickly. I just didn’t feel like I was working hard enough to be maintaining the speed it was telling me I was going. I kept looking down at my computer, and even when I wasn’t pushing, I was going 20-21 mph. Granted, there were few instances when I wasn’t pushing.
Before the race, Mentor told me to be nice out there, and I said I would try, except that I see myself coming off as a complete B**** on the bike. When you are a strong female cyclist starting after three waves of men, you are going to be passing LOTS of people on the bike. Some of these people know how and where to ride on the road, others do not. My throat was slightly sore from yelling at people to get over. I would say that I passed at least 50 people on the bike, and that’s probably a pretty low estimate.

As soon as we turned right out of the park, I realized it was a different course than the one I had done previously. I knew that the old course was considered pretty hilly so I figured, it would probably be similar, and I think that is pretty much the case. There weren’t as many rollers, but there were some slightly longer uphills, still too short to be called climbs, but still a challenging course.
I recall getting to one turn, and I saw a steep uphill and realized that it was the hill that my teammate mentioned, and I quickly dropped to the little ring. I was grateful for the heads up because I might have tried to climb it in the big ring, then dropped my chain when I tried to go into the little ring.
Any experienced triathlete should look at a Sprint triathlon as a z5 sufferfest, basically a time trial of all three disciplines. I can’t say that I was going as hard as I would in a TT, but I noticed that on a few of the climbs, my breathing was pretty labored. I think that the presence of slightly longer uphills made it necessary to take some recovery on the downhill. Even if I didn’t dwell on it, I knew I was running when I got off the bike, and I didn’t want to burn too many matches.
I did notice that I did better on cornering on my tri bike. I don’t think a time trial bike handles as well as a road bike, and I have struggled adapting my handling skills to my Kestrel. I didn’t take the turns as sharply as I would on my Cannondale, but I definitely took more speed than I would have a year ago.
The bike course was a little long as I heard my watch beep for a 13 and 14 mile, no problem for me, give me a long bike course anyday! I was hoping for the best female bike split, and that’s what I got. As I made my way back to transition, I saw Tattoo Mike on the 2nd run for the duathlon. He looked a little surprised to see me already, and I took that to be a sign that I was doing well. 
Bike: 40:18 (averaged 21.1 mph with about 950 feet of elevation gain in 14 miles 1st out of 107 by 1:40)
As I approached transition, I told myself I could do it, so I reached down and unvelcroed my shoes and managed to get both of my feet out of my shoes before heading to the dismount line. I had never even practiced a flying dismount so I was really excited by the success I had on my first attempt. It definitely made for a faster transition as running in my socks was faster than trying to clop along in my cycling shoes. I got to transition, took off my helmet, stuffed my feet in my pre-laced shoes, grabbed my water bottle and visor and took off.
Side note: Read Eric’s blog (http://trierictri.blogspot.com) if you want to read a good description of how to do a transition properly. I do believe I have read every race report he has ever written, and he is very methodical, and I tried to emulate him. What Would Eric Do? Apparently, Eric would also yell at you if you never practiced a skill and tried it in a race.
T2: 0:45

Run:
I felt like I needed to pee when I started running, and I contemplated ducking behind the same building I ducked behind in 2007, but I just told myself it wasn’t that bad. The run course was different than it had been in years’ past, and I think it was confusing, short, and probably plagued by people cutting the course. The course turned right onto a down and back into a parking area on a little peninsula on the lake. The course then headed in the direction of transition but turned right on the road heading out of the park. The course had a turn around on that road, and then headed back to the first down and back before turning left across the parking lot to the finish line.
I got passed by a woman coming right out of transition, and I don’t recall any other woman passing me, which is huge, I tend to bleed places on the run. There were two women ahead of me that I could see. The one woman wasn’t making much ground on me, but I wasn’t catching up either.
The first down and back is a bit of an up and down so I was prepared for a slight rise at the beginning, then enjoyed the little descent. As I made my way out to the second down and back, I spent a lot of time paying attention to who was coming in the other direction. I didn’t see many women at all so I figured I was in 3rd or 4th place overall.
It was in that second down and back where I started to wonder why I was going so slowly, and that’s when I realized that it was a nice false flat. I was happy when I saw the turn around, but it also seemed short at that point, that heading straight back to transition wasn’t going to be close to a 5k.
I enjoyed the run back towards transition as it was a gentle decline, and I was able to assess how much space I had on the women behind me. I think the closest woman behind me was about four or five minutes, and I felt confident that I would maintain my position in the race baring a cramp or falling or something stupid on my part.

When we got back towards the transition area, we were informed that we had to do the first down and back again, which I thought was kind of weird, but expected as the run would have been really short otherwise. I think there was lots of confusion at this point, and it also made it difficult because I could no longer just follow the guy ahead of me, I had to know where to go.
While I did pass a few people on this last down and pack (people I am assuming who were just starting on the run), I could tell my run was starting to get very forced. My pace went from an 8:08 to an 8:25 (mind you most of this was a false flat) to about an 8:30. I was getting very stiff, and I never really payed attention to keeping my arms loose.
On the last turn around, I could see that there were no women chasing me down so I kind of put it on cruise control to the finish.
Run: 23:29 28th out of 107 (yes, I am pretty sure it was still short)
I am not going to lie, the results make no sense to me. I don’t recall seeing four women ahead of me on the run, not to mention duathlon women on the course, and there were enough down and backs that I should have seen them. I recall seeing two. I am not going to say it’s intentional as it was very easy to do, even unintentionally, but I am pretty sure there was some course cutting taking place. Regardless, 5th overall out of over 100 women is a good result. I was 3 minutes back from the winner, and I did manage to place in the sprint at this race, FINALLY.
Total Time: 1:20:46 3rd in the 30-34 age group, 5th overall.
End Notes:

I can't think of anything that went wrong in this race.  I got my watch on while riding just fine.  I had no problem working the multi-sport function on my watch.  I had gum ready for the run.  I didn't drop my chapstick.  I honestly don't think I have ever had a race go so smoothly.
The top 3 women in the 30-34 age group all did better than the 1st place finisher for the men’s 30-34 age group.

Mentor came up to me after the race and poured an ice cold cup of water over my head. He was so excited for me, he said he heard them announcing my name as he was in T2. He kept saying, “you crushed it!” For him to say that, it’s a compliment. It’s rare for him to do or say anything that might inflate my ego.
I was wondering why HFP decided to change the run course, and my best guess is because they lacked the volunteer support to man a 3rd aid station on the run course. Maybe not, but I hope they change it back to a closer to a 5k run (even though I don’t really complain about short run courses), but I think there was plenty of course cutting going on at this race. In almost every activity, I am starting to get this realization that volunteers are really underappreciated. So, the next time you are racing, say thank you to the volunteers and consider volunteering for a race yourself.