A great day at NYC Marathon 2011

This past weekend I had the honor of running the NYC marathon. It was truly one of the most fun races I have ever done, and definitely my best marathon experience (this was #7). The course was easy and fun, the weather was perfect, and the spectators were the best around!

Due to the size of the race (46,795 people finished), getting to the race start is quite the logistical challenge. The race starts on Staten Island, and the bridge has to be closed sometime after 8:00am or so. There were three wave starts, at 8:40, 9:40, and 10:40. This meant that most people had some serious time to kill once they got there.

I was lucky that my B&B was 5 short blocks from the No. 1 subway, which went directly to the ferry station. Another gawdawful-early alarm, on the subway by 6, at the ferry by 6:45, loading at 7:00, and we are on our way. The Au Bon Pain at the other end of the ferry ride was a blessing - I still had 3 hours before my race, so it was safe to drink a good cup of badly-needed coffee. From the ferry, we walk to some buses, take a 20-minute bus ride, then walk about another mile to the start villages. By the time I found a spot of ground for myself and settled in, it was 8:40 or so.

Most of us ate while we waited, and enjoyed the morning sun. Hung out and people-watched, got the bag checked, then it was our turn. This race was so big that those of us in the back (I was in corral 60 of 66) couldn't even see most of the wave. We didn't get to run on the top level of the bridge, which was a little sad, but we still got a good view of Manhattan from the lower level. It looked so far away! Are we really running all the way back?

Crossed the bridge, then ditched the warm fleece jacket I had picked up from Goodwill. The day was warming up fast, but the temperature was perfect. It peaked at 53 and the breeze was just enough to keep us comfortable. The course was split for the first eight miles to accommodate the large number of runners. Spectators were everywhere, making all kinds of noise, waving, holding signs, keeping us entertained. Wow. I'm really running in the famed New York marathon? Are you serious?

There was an aid station every mile, shortly before the mile markers, with porta-potties. I'm still waiting for menopause to kick in, so I had to use the porta-potties more than normal. With a crowd this size, there were always lines. Oh well, at least there were plenty of options. I had to stop at mile 4 and 17, and it was a little frustrating to watch all those people run by, but I didn't have any expectations of doing a PR today anyhow.

Felt great at the halfway point. Took a picture to prove it.

Made it through Brooklyn and Queens with their wonderful supporters, before crossing another bridge at miles 15-16, into the Manhattan for the first time. Running up First Ave into the Bronx was great fun. The streets were lined with people cheering and screaming, and it was easy to stay focused. How could you not feel good with so many people cheering for you?

The miles just slid by, ticking off faster than I expected. Reached mile 18, normally the dreaded Wall for many people, and didn't slow down. Is it possible that I can feel this good? What's wrong with me today? I'll take it! Crossed back over to Manhattan around mile 20, only 10K to go! Some poor guy near me was saying "Is it over yet?" He was hurting. He just groaned when I suggested we were close enough to walk the rest of it if need be.

I carried a little camera, and stopped a lot to take pictures. The pace felt slow, and I consciously slowed down when I found myself panting. Sometimes there was no choice, when 2-3 people would walk side by side or jog slower than I wanted, but that was a sort of break too. I walked all the aid stations but ran between each one, and didn't take any other walk breaks until around mile 22 or so, then I just took a few very short breaks. This is a heck of a lot easier when it's not preceded by a 112-mile bike ride!

The run down to Central Park was long, but beautiful. Between the crowds and the gorgeous fall colors of the trees, there was plenty to look at. I passed someone who had "40 Years Old Today" on her shirt, wished her a happy birthday, and said "It only gets better!" I'm not sure she believed me.

Mile 24 was shortly after entering the park, and I realized that I might actually do this thing in 5 hours, my typical time sans photo stops and potty breaks. Wow, really? How is that possible? I totally screwed around sightseeing, taking pictures and potty breaks for 24 miles, how can my time be that close to normal?

Pushed the last two miles, didn't stop for any more pictures, and barely did it: 4:59:57. Just enough to get my name printed in the New York Times Marathon Results secion, albeit in the bottom inch-and-a-half! Hey, it counts.

Post-finish was a bit of a cluster...yes they gave us the moon blankets (and even provided a piece of tape to tape it in place around your shoulders) and a bag of water/Gatorade/food. Unfortunately we were then herded into a funnel to get to the gear check trucks, and it was too crowded to walk and warm up. We shuffled along for what felt like a mile, and runners were dropping like flies. We were all wet and cold and unable to really move, a recipe for bad cramps. They did have plenty of medical people there, but if we'd been able to actually walk, there would have been far fewer people going down. I was lucky and my gear truck was one of the first few, so I could get out of there.

Found Shirley, my lone Honey Badger crew member, put on my warm clothes that I had checked, and immediately went for a burger, cheese fries, and a shake. The perfect way to cap off a glorious day (with a hot shower after, of course)!

The results:

Ironman nutrition

I probably obsessed over nutrition more than anything else. I was extremely concerned that I not screw this up, because it can make or break your day.

How will I get at least 300 cals an hour in me when:

• I can't eat solid food while I'm exercising. It just won't go down.
• It must be portable and not heavy.
• It must be quickly consumed.
• It needed to be more than just carbs.
• It was going to be a warm swim (water was 84 degrees), so starting well-hydrated was mandatory.

I figured I'd be out there for 16 hours and some change. 16 hours on nothing but gels = very unhappy stomach. And not enough protein would mean bonking. I've learned over the years that my body really likes protein, and needs it for anything more than 5 hours, as opposed to just straight carbs. I also know that I get really, really sick of the sweet stuff.

I've been using Hammer Nutrition's Perpetuem for about two years, so I knew that would be a component. It's a carb/protein drink and is more substantial than a straight electrolyte drink. The plain flavor doesn't taste that great but it's not sweet either, so it's worth a less-than-yummy taste simply to get a break from the constant sweetness.

Infinit makes a custom blended drink and I really wanted to try that with some protein in it, but time grew short and I didn't have time to get it and train with it. I did however, have a blend that was primarily carbs/electrolytes that I was used to, so I stuck with that.

Shakeology drinks have worked out well for me this year, simply because they're a more complete meal replacement than a simple protein drink, and my body seems to process it just fine. I've had good luck drinking them about 30 minutes before a race and before training, so figured they'd be worth a try as a meal replacement during a race.

Enduralyte capsules are a quick easy way to get some electrolytes in you without having to drink all that sickly-sweet junk.

So here's how the race day nutrition worked out.

Breakfast, 4am. Oatmeal with dried raisins, one boiled egg (I apologize to any swimmers in line around me)
Swim line, 5:30am, yogurt
Swim line, 6:30am, Shakeology.
- Sipped on an Infinit drink for entire time in line until 7am.
T1, 9:00am, Shakeology, two Enduralyte capsules
Bike, over the course of 8 hours:
- went through two front bottles' worth of Perpetuem
- around 3 bottles of Perform at aid stations
- several large bottles of cold water at aid stations (stopped and drank the entire bottle on the spot)
- four gels, approx one every two hours
- another Shakeology at special needs, around 2:30pm
- piece of banana at two of the aid stations
- two Enduralyte capsules at four different stops
T2, 5:30pm, drank Shakeology for dinner, two more Enduralyte capsules
Run, over the course of 5.5 hours:
- three pieces of banana at three separate aid stations
- gel every 3-4 miles since I was moving slowly
- Perform 3-4 times at aid stations (less than one an hour)
- Water at every aid station. Yep, all 25 of them.
- Bottle of Perpetuem at special needs, mile 14. Carried bottle with me and took about an hour to drink it all.

I really wanted to avoid the cramping/hydration issues that take so many people down, and measured my hydration by the number of pee stops. Peed at T1 and T2, twice on the bike, and three times on the run. All was well.

Around miles 50-60 of the bike I had cramps in my side, but remembered the advice from Coach Patrick of Endurance Nation: when your stomach cramps, drink water to dilute all the other junk. It helps settle the gut. And it worked. Before long the cramps subsided. Ditto on the run - when the stomach got queasy I would drink some water and feel better. I know the constant influx of calories/water is why I felt so good all day. I heard someone puking behind me on the run and was happy not to be them.

...and it took a couple of days to be able to eat normal-sized portions of solid food again!

My first Ironman

Oh my, where to begin...I wish everyone could have as much fun for their first Ironman as I did! It was truly an amazing day.

I may have to break this up into several posts, because there's just so much to cover! This one will only cover the race itself. A friend started calling me the Honey Badger. To understand the Honey Badger references, watch the youtube video here:



About a week and a half out from the race, I found myself entering a very calm, very relaxed state. Sure I was still a little nervous, but I felt very confident and ready. I felt like a kid the night before the final: if you don't know the material by now, you're not going to know it during the test, so no use stressing out about it. Either I was prepared or I wasn't, the day was going to go how it was going to go. Best to just control what you can, and let the rest happen.

The night before, I did manage to get a little sleep, even if it was fitful. Had no trouble waking up when the alarm went off at four, and went in search of a microwave for my instant oatmeal. The promised microwave in the lounge was locked up tight, so I had to go back into the hotel kitchen to nuke my breakfast. It worked out fine, so no stress there. Met up with two of the three "Honey Badger Crew" in the lobby, and walked over to the bike transition area, where I put my liquids on the bike. Then we headed down to body marking and the swim start, a 3/4-mile hike. Got there not too much after 5am, but it looked like the line for the swim start was already pretty long. Oh well, I know there's still lots of people behind me, so no worries.

[The swim start at Louisville is a unique Ironman start. Instead of the mass free-for-all start, you get in one long-ass line, and jump off a dock every second or so. The time cutoff for the swim doesn't start until the last person enters the water, so if you're a pitiful-slow swimmer like me, it behooves you to get as near the front of the line as possible.]

We all hung out in line for the next two hours or so, chatting and relaxing. I felt like I had entered a sort of Zen state: I was incredibly calm, felt an inner quiet that I normally don't feel before any race of any distance, and was in a very peaceful mood. I just looked around and people-watched, enjoyed watching Elizabeth and Shirley people-watch, and hoped maybe Paula would get there before I started. She had driven back to Indianapolis Saturday to perform in a chorus concert Saturday night, and got back very early Sunday morning. She grabbed a couple of hours of sleep at a friend's place, and was coming in to find me before the race. She finally found us, about ten minutes before the start.

THE SWIM
The gun went off for the pro start, and we all gawked at their amazingly fast swim past us. Then it was our turn. The line was starting to move. Guess I'm really going to do this thing, huh? Wow. Can't believe it's finally here, after two years of planning and training. Holy crap.

Exchanged hugs with everyone, then the swimmers started our traipse down to the dock. The swim start went very smoothly, with people getting in quickly. I hopped in and started swimming. The Zen-like peacefulness stayed with me, and I had (for me) a wonderful swim. It felt great, comfortable, and not a struggle at all. Got smacked a few times, did my own share of smacking and crawling up over people, and was at the turnaround before I knew it. Yippee! Now I get to swim with the current -- let's hope it helps me out!

It did, and eventually I saw the final red buoy up ahead, signaling the finish. Wow. Really? I still didn't feel tired, was just getting a little bored with swimming and ready to move on to something else. Ok, it's show time. The first of a day of amazing volunteers helped us out of the water, I took a few slower steps to make sure I wasn't lightheaded from being horizontal for so long, and trotted off to transition. Honey Badger is out of the water!

Projected swim time: 2:00. Actual swim time: 1:44:03. Fabulous!

THE BIKE
Another volunteer handed my bike bag to me and I headed to the changing tent, where yet another volunteer immediately asked if I needed water or anything else and began helping me sort out my stuff. While I was in there, a conversation was going on about someone having CPR on the dock at the swim start. Uh oh. Apparently this happened right after I had gotten in the water. No one knew anything, but something bad had obviously happened. Damn. Hate it when someone's day goes so terribly wrong.

The volunteers in the changing tent are wonderful! They pick up your bag, start pulling stuff out of it and handing it to you. A volunteer was walking around offering tampons, and two of us laughed and talked about how happy we were not to have to be fooling with that nonsense today! I had packed a little towel and dried my feet off, pulled on my socks and shoes, helmet, drank a Shakelology, and headed out of the tent. There, yet another wonderful volunteer slathered me thoroughly in sunscreen. What a treat!

Easily found my bike and headed out for a very long ride...still feeling strong and calm. Wow, is this for real? Gave a thumbs-up to everyone, and took off.

Projected transition time: 15:00. Actual T1 time: 12:35.

As promised, the bike started out easy and got harder fast. The serious hills began around mile 18(?) or so, and never let up. However, I still felt great, and was thrilled to reach the first timing mat at 23 miles in an hour and 23 minutes. I was embracing the Endurance Nation philosophy of saving it for later, and was very pleased with how I felt. I'm not a strong cyclist and have definitely not done nearly as much riding as I should have, so I knew the hills would challenge me. I fully expected to have to walk up one or two. Much to my pleasant surprise, even when I was cursing the hills between miles 70-80, I was able to not only stay on the bike, but stay seated all but once. The only time I had to walk was when a series of cars refused to pass us as several of us were going up a hill, and didn't leave me any room to safely get by.

A cyclist was down at mile 20 by the side of the road, but someone else was waiting with them and the aid wagon was arriving just as I went by, so I kept going. Passed a lot of people with some sort of issue, be it flats, unhappy stomach, tired, whatever. There were aid stations approximately every 10 miles, so I stopped and stood up at every one. Twice I got off to use the portajohns. Once again, the volunteers were amazing. If you pulled over, there was immediately someone there offering to bring you water, electrolyte drink, banana, gel, whatever. For the portajohns, someone would grab your bike and hold it while you took care of business, then offer to bring you stuff. Wow.

Pulled over at the special needs stop around mile 65 and drank another Shakeology, and asked what time it was (there were no clocks on the course). It was 2:00. The bike course cutoff was mile 61 by 2:30, so plenty of time there. The volunteer captain told me that they were discussing extending the total race cutoff by a few minutes, due to the delay at the swim start. I asked how the guy was doing, and the volunteer just said "not good." Oh crap. Not another race where someone dies because they didn't know they had a heart condition. Sobering.

Held it together on the bike really well, just staying in easy gears and grabbing all the downhill free speed I could muster. I hauled it down the hills and crept up in granny gear. Oh well, I wasn't killing my legs, either. The crotch held up pretty well until mile 80 or so, then it began getting pretty uncomfortable. Only 32 miles to go, I can deal. Everyone had talked about how the last 20 miles were downhill, so I was looking forward to that.

All those people lied. Sure, if you look at the elevation chart it's all downhill, but reality isn't quite that pleasant. There's also a stretch of concrete road where there's seams every so many yards, and when you go over those seams you get bumped in the...yeah. If anyone had been near me it would have been hilarious, I'm sure. Every time I hit one of those seams, I was grunting and yelping with pain. It hurt, but it was even funny to me. What really kept me cranking was the thought that I was NOT going to do this again, so I had better make all the cutoffs and finish this darned thing!

FINALLY I see the Louisville skyline, and eventually see the volunteer pointing me to the dismount line. Thank gawd. SO happy to get off the bike. You regular century riders can keep it. I have no interest in spending that much time on a bike again. Anything over 3-4 hours is for the birds. Bleah.

Very happily got off the bike (and handed it to a volunteer who racked it for me), then realized I couldn't take a step in my bike shoes. One of them apparently was hitting a nerve, and walking on it was impossible. Didn't bother me at all on the bike, but walking was out of the question. Once again, the amazing volunteer realized I was trying to take off my shoes, and he said, "Let me do that for you. You don't need to bend over just yet." My hero. Walked down to transition in my socks, anxious to get back out on the road...on my FEET.

Projected bike time: between 7-8 hours, hopefully closer to 7. Actual time: 8:04:21.

THE RUN
Back to the changing tent I go. The volunteer once again pulled all of my stuff out and handed it to me one by one, and grabbed stuff as I was removing it and put it in the bag. We chatted a bit while she hovered to make sure I was ok. Asked her the time, and it was around 5:30. Damn. I really wanted to be back by 4:30. There goes another hour of cushion for the run. Oh well, get moving. Drank another Shakeology (dinner!) and headed out for more sunscreen. Wow, I still feel really good. Tired, but good. What gives? I'll take it.

Projected transition time: 15:00. Actual transition time: 14:26.

Said hi to my Honey Badger Crew, made it clear that I hate the bike, and started a slow jog. I was too tired to properly run any distance, but wasn't too tired to run a minute, walk a minute. Oh my, this is gonna take forever. Will I make it? I only have 6.5 hours to cover 26.2 miles. Yikes. I was really angry with myself for putting myself in a potential bind to make the cutoff, so I shortened the walking breaks to maybe 30-45 seconds.

...and passed the "Mile 1" sign before I knew it. Really?? Already? Wow. Maybe this won't take as long as I thought! There are two loops to the course. You do one loop, come within a block of the finish line, make a right, and head out for 12 more miles. I was hoping to hit that corner by 8:00pm. Before I knew it, I was there. Found my crew again, asked what time it was. "23 after!" "After EIGHT??" "Yeah!" Are you serious? Well hot damn, how did that happen? I now had 3.5 hours to cover 12 miles. Piece o' cake.

Kept up the run/walk routine, kept passing people that I never saw again, and soon I was at the 25-mile mark. WOW. I'm really gonna do this thing, it's really not gonna be a suckfest, and I'm really enjoying the hell out of it. What's wrong with this picture? Can everything be falling into place this nicely? I mean, everything? Not one thing went wrong, really. Pinching myself the last mile, I decided I was going to thoroughly enjoy that finish chute.

THE FINISH
Rounded that last corner, was blinded by the bright lights, walked to the start of the finish chute. Hit the chute, then took off in a sprint. Enjoyed the crowd noise, heard the announcer say it was my 50th birthday, did some high-fives with people as I went by, and smiled like a fool when I heard "Carla Happel, you are an Ironman!" Holy. Shit. I did it. AND IT DIDN'T SUCK. Am I dreaming?

Got my medal, another volunteer was immediately at my side guiding me through the finish area, found my crew and hugged them, got my finish cap and shirt. Paula handed me the most obnoxiously large helium birthday balloon ever and a dozen roses, and I got the finisher pic with those. Awesome!

Oh, did I mention that Macca (Chris McDonald) put my medal on me? How cool. That man is amazing. He won this race in 8:27:36. Inhuman.

We wandered around looking for some milk or something not-solid to eat, I spoke with my parents, then we went and watched some more finishers for about another 45 minutes. That was the best. These were all the people I had passed on the run course, who had just been too tired to even try running, and it was great to see them perk up, run in, and smile.

After that, the first order of business was a hot shower...

Projected run time: 6:00. Actual run time: 5:33:04

My total race time was 15:48:29...about 45 minutes faster than I had hoped.

Guess I'm an Ironman now, huh? Sure does feel good.

Tracking information for Race Day

Here are some options for tracking my progress on Sunday.
My bib number is 602.

This one is through Ironman, and they don't have a good track record at all with this. Sometimes it works, sometimes not. Maybe there won't be any sunspots on Sunday and it will work.
http://www.ironmanlive.com
There should be a clear link to "Ironman Louisville".

This one is through Endurance Nation, whose training plan I've been using, and should be much more dependable.
http://www.endurancenation.us/en_data/Races/AthleteTracker/im/race/2011/IMLOU

Both of these should update as I cross the various timing mats. Mats are located here:

• At end of swim - Will be entering water between 7-7:45
• Beginning of bike - when I leave transition after the swim.
• (Ironmanlive.com) Miles 42 and 70
  (Endurance Nation) Miles 30 and 86
• End of bike - Mile 112
• Beginning of run - when I leave transition after the bike
• (Ironmanlive.com) Mile 13.1
  (Endurance Nation) Mile 12.1
• FINISH!

Estimated times:

• Swim: I will be entering the water anywhere between 7:15-7:45, and will likely be in the water for 2 hours.
• T1: Hope to take no longer than 15 minutes in transition.
• Bike: Probably 7 hours
• T2: Hope to take no longer than 15 minutes...
• Run: 6 hours

I expect the vast majority of you will be in bed sound asleep when I finish!

Tapering...a week out

(Written Monday, August 22)

Two years ago, while volunteering at Ironman Louisville, I realized that it would land on my 50th birthday. Then and there I decided how I was going to celebrate. Those two years have flown by, and the race is now five days away. Where did the time go? It's hard to believe that I'm going to do an Ironman THIS WEEKEND.

Wow. I'm trying to make sure I don't forget anything. Made a list of race-day nutrition and planned how to pack all of my race bags. In addition to what I want to carry on the bike, I have to pack four bags for use during the race:

T1 (Transition 1): between swim and bike
Special Needs #1: around mile 56 of the bike
T2 (Transition 2): between bike and run
Special Needs #2: around mile 13 of the run

Also figured out breakfast, and what I'll carry with me that morning to drink/eat in the two hours of waiting before the swim. Lots of planning! There will be food and water out on the course, but not the protein drinks that I want.

Found out a few days ago that Lousville has an underwear run. This has been a tradition in Kona forever; I didn't realize any of the other Ironman races did it. I have the perfect pair in mind for this one. You'll just have to wait for pictures.

http://louisvilleunderpantsrun.com/
Warning: The video on the right will require Kleenex.

Did a sprint tri this past Saturday and ran into several people I know. Some asked about my taper and how it was going. For those who may not know, tapering is the period of time before a race where you back off training and let the body rest and recover. I know from personal experience that if I back WAY off and fully rest up, the more rested and ready I feel on race day and the better my race experience. I kicked off the three-week taper with an olympic-distance tri, and went downhill from there. Anyway, many people report feeling antsy during this period, like they need to be/should be working out. Two people asked if I was feeling antsy, and I had to answer a resounding "no"! I have fully enjoyed the rest time, and plan on enjoying what's left of it. Gawd knows I am expending mental energy like nobody's business, just trying to focus on real-life things like work while constantly running through my race-day plan...and counting down the days!

For every lousy race, there's several good ones

My previous post whined about a tough race and trying to find an explanation for it. It was quite discouraging to turn in such a poor performance, but I had to let it go and assume things would only improve.

And they did.

This past weekend was a redemption of sorts. Saturday began with a trail half-marathon on a very tough course (see elevation profile below). In addition to the many ups and downs, the first and last mile involved a lot of climbing/stepping over logs, making it tough to get a rhythm going. I'm relatively new to trail running, so I'm sure it was harder for me than for more experienced folks, but I heard a lot of comments about its difficulty as people came in and cooled down.

Unfortunately, I started the day by rolling my ankle before hitting mile 1. I have no idea what I stepped on (or didn't), but it wasn't a log, root, rock, or anything so obvious. It must have looked bad because the woman right behind me sounded concerned and asked if I was ok. Yes, I'm fine, I just need to get out of everyone's way for about 10 seconds, get pissed, shake it off, and start moving again. After about 30 seconds of fast walking, it felt ok to run again. Soon I forgot about it, other than making a mental note not to screw up and twist it again. Three weeks before Ironman is NOT the time to injure myself

The rest of the race was uneventful and quite nice, if challenging. It felt good to be out running in the woods, and it was easy to enjoy the hot, humid day. Didn't even mind the fact that my clothes were so full of condensation that they were sticking to my body. The trail was an out-and-back, so it was fun to people-watch the runners on their way back and hope that I looked that good. It was a 13.1 mile loop; I did one for the half, marathoners did it twice.

Finished with a decent (for me) time of 3:04, about 40 minutes slower than my typical road half, as expected. Washed off in the misting tent, changed back into my "official" Planet Adventure shirt, and took over the timing. Forgot about the ankle until around 3:00, when it started mildly complaining about not having been elevated yet. Oh well, it was fun to watch the marathoners come in, some looking more beat-up than others, and be grateful I had only done the half! Got home later and made sure to put the foot up and ice it, and passed out very early, sometime around 8:30pm.

Sunday's 5:00am alarm went off much too soon! Got up and headed downtown to TriIndy, a really fun event right in downtown Indianapolis. Back in the 1830's, before railroads had caught on, there was a plan to build a canal right down the middle of Indiana. Only a few miles were built before rail transport rendered the project moot. A three-mile stretch is downtown, and has been developed into a very nice park. Three or four years ago someone was finally able to put together a triathlon that used the canal. It's a really unique venue and it's a lot of fun to do a race right in the middle of town.

Both a tri and a du were offered; I chose to do a duathlon this time, consisting of a 2 mile run, 20K bike, and 5K run. It was actually kind of nice not to have to fool with the additional step of swimming! The day was incredibly humid, with fog hanging so low that most of the buildings downtown were hidden. Saw a lot of people I knew and had a good time chatting with some of them. Ankle felt a little tender walking from the car to the race, but figured what the heck. If it was a problem, I could always stop.

As it turned out, the ankle was a complete non-issue. Running on the stable concrete/asphalt surface felt great, and biking didn't seem to irritate it at all. Had a good race with possibly my best bike performance ever, and thoroughly enjoyed the morning. Finished in a respectable 1:35:14, good enough for third in my age group.

Finished the weekend with a nice brunch and better beer at Granite City, then spent the rest of the day with the foot up and an ice pack on it. Am thrilled to report that Monday morning, most of the swelling is gone and there is still no bruising, and I'm not really going to lose any training time. Hooray for small favors!

19 days to go.

*Eagle Creek Trail Half and Full Marathon by Planet Adventure Racing
*TriIndy by Tuxedo Brothers

Bump(s) in the road...

This past Saturday (July 16) I did an olympic distance tri (the Summit Lake Optimist tri, in a town about an hour away from Indy), the same distance as last Sunday . However, I had a vastly different day, despite the lack of a 68-mile bike ride the day before. Why?

The swim was advertised as 1500 yards, but a friend's GPS tells us it was closer to 1.3 miles, allowing for some error. That was ok, though, it was still cloudy and reasonably temperate, and the water was 81 degrees or so. The swim, while my typical slow creep, felt good. After that, things began to go downhill.

After taking my time in transition and sucking down a gel, I left on the bike. The first 15-20 mins on the bike are usually no fun, so it was no surprise to feel sluggish at the start. However, I never stopped feeling sluggish. The legs felt heavy, the body just wanted to crawl back into that nice comfortable bed that I had left at 4:30 am. Hmmm. It was only a 25-mile ride, but it felt like forever (and my time reflected that). The rough and bumpy road didn't help the disposition any, either. About half way through, the clouds dispersed and things started heating up, but it wasn't too miserable. Yet. Was happy to return to transition and choke down another gel, and get going on the run.

The run was even more pathetic than normal, 15 minutes slower than my usual trudge. By now the sun was baking everything, and there was scant shade on the run course. I didn't hurt or feel exactly tired, I just had no energy. When I was able to trudge it was at a decent pace, but I had to walk more than usual. I never felt energized. Even in the hardest races, I have moments of feeling energetic. Not this time. I finally finished in an abysmal time, but finished.

So what went wrong? I hydrated enough, I think. I got plenty of sleep the few nights before. Hmmm. I got enough rest last week so it wasn't due to a heavy training load. Maybe it was just a bad day? But why?

Pre-race nutrition looks to be the culprit. In the hot weather, I tend not to eat as much. My appetite has been down for the last couple of weeks. The night before Sunday's fabulous race last week, I had a very nice meal of steak, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. And wine (but I doubt that contributed to the positive day). This week, I don't even remember what I ate Friday, as it was nothing substantial or memorable. I don't think I ate a real "meal" with a plate of several items. OK, that's a start. Now what about race-day morning?

I got up at 4:30 and ate my usual bowl of oatmeal with some dried fruit in it. That was good. However, I didn't start swimming until about 8:10 or so, almost four hours later. I brought a protein shake with me, but in my morning grogginess had left it in the car. The car was parked some distance from transition, and I didn't remember the shake until we were lining up to get into the water, when I realized I was hungry. D'oh!

While I tried to hydrate on the bike and run, apparently I didn't. The lack of a need to pee until 2pm tells me that I didn't take in enough liquid, even though it felt like it at the time. This week I'm forcing myself out into the heat to practice what I've learned and try to get adjusted to the temps. Saturday is a sprint tri, which won't be nearly as tough but a good workout nonetheless. Hopefully there will be no more repeats of last Saturday!

Lessons learned July 16, 2011:

• Eat. Eat in the days before the race, eat the day of the race. Don't forget to drink the protein shake before the race (usually my ritual).
• Hydrate more than seems necessary. Make sure to drink all of the protein/carb mix on the bike.  Take a gel on the bike, even if it is only a 25-miler.

*Thanks to Steve Tomboni of Muncie Multisport for putting on another good race!