I love riding my bike. They should invent a sport where you just have to ride your bike and nothing else. And in groups so you don't have to worry about drafting penalties. I could ride my bike all day long. I knew that there weren't going to be a lot of women in front of me, and if there were that they would be the good ones, so I just settled down and rode however felt good. There was this one woman that I kept passing and who kept passing me back for the first 20 miles or so. The first few times we passed each other we didn't so much as grunt at each other. I was just as happy to sit in front of her or behind her, since we seemed to be of similar abilities, and powering past her in 15 seconds or less was way more energy than I was willing to expend. But every once in awhile I would gain enough momentum to get into the draft zone and have to either pass her or brake. The fourth or fifth time we met I rolled past her, and she had her game face on. I guess I was wearing my invisible cap again. I will not be ignored! "See you in a few," I said as I went by, meaning that I knew it wouldn't be long before she came back around. Her game face cracked into a smile and we congratulated each other on how well we were doing. Actually, looking at the results, it looks like she was probably my pace bunny on the swim as well. I guess The Monster had spit her back out after all. Now we were BFFs and ready to take on the rest of the field. We hopped back and forth for awhile longer before a stocky girl with flowers on her ass powered by and my buddy went off after her and I held back. It was too early to go chasing after people.
It looks more rolling than it is. The total elevation range is about 150 feet.
The course was rolling with relatively few turns and mostly over nice pavement. There was one stretch of about a mile that looked like it had been bombed out thrice over, but for the most part it wasn't bad. The roads were slick in the first half hour or so, but they started to dry out as time wore on. Some of the volunteers were pretty apathetic, but since there were 2 for every intersection (one to warn you a few hundred feet out, and one at the intersection itself to wave you through), all went pretty well. The only time I had to brake before the end was when a cop was waving me through an intersection and a big assed truck went in front of me instead. The only other time I was risking life and limb was on the bombed-out stretch of road.
There were 2 aid stations on the 28-mile loop, so I got to practice a bottle pick-up 4 times throughout the day. I'd never done one before! I'm not sure how much you're supposed to slow down at the aid stations, so I skipped that part. I seemed to do okay going through at about 18 mph. I would scream out what I wanted as I was coming close, aim like I was going to hit the volunteer that I wanted to give me liquids, and hold out my hand. And then,
THWACK! I would have the bottle in my hand and just have to hold on tight to make sure I didn't drop it. I didn't. Not even once. I don't know how the volunteers' wrists felt at the end of the day, but I was pretty proud of myself. It was a good thing they were out there, too, because not only did I run out of blocks and gels (for the first time ever), but I also lost a bottle. I had just swallowed a Gu, and was trying to wash the disgusting mess down with some water. I held the bottle away from my mouth while I swallowed a mouthful, and that's when my knee hit the bottle, the bottle hit the handlebar and then hit the pavement. Immediately I thought of
Iron Matron and her penalty for littering at Mooseman. I looked around and no one was around, so I just left the evidence in the road and kept pedaling.
Around the beginning of the first loop a guy in a black jersey starts hovering around. He was too fast to drop, but not fast enough to drop me. I got the distinct impression that he just wouldn't let me by because I was a chick. He rolled by me on the war zone road and said, "Zis is a deeficult rrroad, eezn't it?" in a French accent. Since he couldn't get rid of me, now he wanted someone to talk to.
I made a little bit of conversation, but he was slowing down, so I pulled ahead of him. Each time we passed we would exchange a little snippit of information before I would have to take the initiative to either power ahead or drop back. Finally I said to him, in the nicest and clearest way I possibly could, "I'm not strong enough to pass you, but I have to slow down to stay behind you. I really don't want a drafting penalty, so why don't you just go on ahead without me." He didn't get the hint, but eventually he did figure out that I wasn't really in the mood to talk. I think he finally wound up pulling ahead of me.
For the entire second bike loop and most of the first I had been trying to pee on my bike, but there simply weren't any descents long enough to relax on. I came close a couple of times, but just couldn't seem to get it out. I tried drinking all the liquids I could (another down side to losing that water bottle). I even tried pushing again, but it wasn't working. Six months ago
I couldn't help but pee in my pants, and now that I wanted to, I couldn't make myself do it. Finally, about 5 miles from the end, I gave up.
On the first loop I didn't see too many women, and was only passed by my BFF and the stocky girl with flowers on her ass, but by the end of the first loop I started to pass some women. Two stand out for different reasons. First I came up behind a chick dressed all in pink. As I rode up behind her I saw that something was wrong with her pink outfit: not only was it
pink, it was a DRESS! She was not only wearing one of those obnoxious skort bike short things, but had a matching top that ALSO came down low and flared out like a skirt. Words cannot express how obnoxious this outfit was. When I came up beside her I got a load of her bike: a nice time trial design, but the whole thing down to the handlebar tape was a powdery pink. I wanted to push her over as I went by, just because she looked so stupid. The second chick of note was wearing nothing but a high-cut bathing suit. She had a really nice ass and looked like a serious triathlete, so I was proud to have passed her. About 10 miles from the end I finally caught up with my BFF again. I sat about 10 bike lengths behind her for a good long time, not wanting to waste any extra energy. Finally gravity favored me for a few minutes and rolled up along beside her on a hill.
"I don't..." gasp "...have enough..." gasp "...to pass you..." gasp "but I just wanted..." gasp "to say hi!" I said.
"Oh THERE you are!" she said. She looked happy to see me. We chatted for a bit longer than we probably should have, and when it became clear that she wasn't going to pull back ahead, I pushed ahead of her. I fully expected to see her at any second, but she never came around again. In fact, that happened a lot at the end of the ride. I would sprint past a girl expecting her to be right on my tail and pass me back in a minute or two, but then I would never see her again. I would look over my shoulder for them, but they were gone. The only girl who was unaccounted for was the fat girl with the flowers on her ass, and perhaps people who started ahead of me or in different waves. But if they didn't physically pass me, I didn't much care about where they were.
At the bike turn-off there were about 50 people standing around cheering. I looked closely at all of them, but no one was doing anything but clapping. I didn't see an obvious break in the crowd either where I should pull off, so I just kept riding past a chick in orange with a whistle staring off at the road behind me. I realized too late that that was the turnoff. I must have been wearing my invisible cap again. "THANKS A LOT, GUYS!" I yelled as I pulled the wrong way around an island and a spectator held up the string of flags marking the bike turn-off so I could ride under it rather than turning around completely.
"Yeah, she's not paying any attention," the kindly observer said as I rode under the flags. For reasons that will be important later, let's estimate that I lost 31 seconds for this stupid-assed volunteer's mistake.
Bike time: 2:45:57 (21 mph)
Bike rank: 1/12 AG, 3rd of all women, (52nd OA, 15%)
T2
Thankfully, I didn't lose any places from my little detour, and executed a graceless but successful shoeless dismount and traipsed the long way across transition again to get my stuff. I was sad the bike was over. I just wanted to keep riding and riding forever. I'd probably ridden a little harder than I should have and I knew I would pay for it on the run. I hate running. I should have done the aquabike. All this was going through my head as I put on my running shoes, grabbed my visor and bottle, and plodded back over the mats. I couldn't remember which way my bike was SUPPOSED to be facing, because the girl across the rack was still out there, so I just hung it up by my brakes and figured that she could deal with it. My friend Frenchie gave me an energetic salutation as he passed me on the way out. Now, of all times, he was going to leave me?! I would need a friend so badly now!
T2 time: 1:28
T2 rank: 3/12
The Run, 13.1 miles
My legs felt wrecked, but I seemed to be running pretty well. My first three mile splits were in 8:25, 8:27, and 8:41. Contrary to popular belief, I DO do speed work, and nearly every running session I've done over the past 2 months has been some kind of speed work. It seemed to be paying off. I knew I was taking it out too fast, but I couldn't feel my legs, so how could I possibly be hurting myself? I never did feel like I got my running legs back at any point in the race. I felt like they went from being cement off the bike, to stone tired without having a single good step in between. I felt like I'd gained 40 lb since this morning.
I was conscious right from the very beginning that 13.1 miles was about 13 miles farther than I wanted to be running right now. Usually half marathons don't really register as "far", although I know they are, but in my head
this one was enormous. It wasn't that my body quit working so much as my mind was finished. That's what happens when they put the most unpleasant part at the end. Running is stupid. As was to be expected people started passing me on the run at an alarming rate. There was nothing I could do about it, since I was running better than I ever had in my life, but it still sucked. Running is stupid. One chick passed me, and once I saw the number on her calf, I didn't care. My BFF bike buddy passed me and I cheered her on. They came on slow at first, only about 2 people passed me per minute for the first couple of miles (and barely any women), and then more and more of them started coming. I was not in the mood for this. Running is the stupidest sport in the whole, wide world.
Meanwhile, I still had to pee. It wasn't an emergency, but still. At one point I coughed, and then remembered that the coughing was what lead to all the problems when I was trying to run with the flu: every time I coughed, I would pee my pants a bit. I figured it was going to rain any minute, so I was going to get soaking wet anyway. So I coughed again, and I peed my pants. Yes, I wet myself and I'm admitting to it. I did it on purpose. And I'm not ashamed of it. And now I'm telling you about it. It stayed in my shorts for an uncomfortable half second or so before it didn't seep, but gushed down my leg. Then I coughed again and let a little more go. And a third time, until I felt like I'd dealt with the situation to my satisfaction. Now my shoes were soaked, but they say that wet feet leads to athlete's foot, but the ammonia in urine helps prevent it. And anyway, they were forecasting rain, so I was all set, right? It never rained.
A very, very short time after I wet myself ON PURPOSE like a badass (read: kindergartener), I heard footsteps over my shoulder and a chick came up behind me. Had she been checking out my calf this whole time as I had urine running down my leg?! She passed me without putting forth any effort whatsoever and
I got a chance to check out
her calf. It said "29". "Oh man!" I whined as she went by.
"I know, I'm sorry," she said over her shoulder. "No one's happy to see me!"
What did that mean?! Are there other women in the 25-29 age group right behind us?!Around mile 4, I started noticing that there were a LOT of uphills on this course. In fact, it seemed like we were ALWAYS going uphill. (I would show you a profile, but I messed up the buttons on my garmin and it won't come out.) I was slowing down. My watch was set to beep when I was going slower than 9:05 per mile, and it was yelling at me almost constantly. More and more people were passing me (although more slowly), and more and more of them were women. I wanted to scream, "
I'm SICK and fucking TIRED of being passed! Why don't you all slow the fuck down and run WITH me! I'm a nice person!" I didn't pass a single person on that run. Not one. There was one guy who I got close to who looked like hell, but even he got away. Running is stupid.
Around mile 5 I started walking all the aid stations, drinking something at each one and eating either a banana or a pretzel. I knew I was pretty near the edge, but I was NOT going to eat a gel. That would certainly make me puke. I tried to eat the pretzels while running, but I kept inhaling crumbs. One photographer got a shot of me right when I was choking on a pretzel. "Aw, come on! Not while I'm eating!" I yelled, out loud. Compared to the bike volunteers, the run volunteers were great. There was an aid station at every mile, and there were 3 volunteers at each one handing out food and drinks. They were all over 60, and as it turns out, they were raising money for a food pantry. For each volunteer their organization got, the race would donate $25 to their soup kitchen. They managed to raise over $1,000! Bobby and I wound up sitting with a bunch of them at lunch after the race, and they were all extremely nice and very supportive and appreciative of what WE were doing. They made me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Don't get me wrong. I was miserable and hurting, but I didn't want to walk. My body wasn't tired enough to do that, I just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. That's why all the hills and getting passed were waring me down so much: because the hills meant that it would take longer before I could quit running, and the passing was reminding me that
those lucky shits are going to be finished sooner than I am! What I needed now was a nice, gradual 10-mile downhill. Actually, the miles were ticking away quickly, and before I knew it I was half way there. Pretty soon I was at 10 miles, but still, the last 3 miles was almost too much to bear in my mind. With each woman that passed me I thought,
At least I have the swim and the bike. I hate this. I should have done the aquabike. Running is stupid. It's so frustrating to do well on the first 2 disciplines just to give up dozens of places at the end. I was actually in SECOND PLACE OVERALL of the women before we started running. Now look at me! Then, in the 12th mile we came around a bend and there in front of us was the meanest looking hill of the day. It was only about 6% grade and only lasted about .15 miles, but I almost cried when I saw it.
Finally I was at the turn-off and in the long stretch back to transition. I don't know how, but somehow it looked like I was going to break 2 hours! I don't know where I got it from, but somehow I managed to run that last quarter mile in under an 8:00 mile. As I was running down the path I yelled out to some spectators, "IS THERE ANYONE BEHIND ME?!"
"NO!"
"YESSSSSSSSSSS!" I said, and relaxed. I was going to do the best I could to enjoy the end of this motherfucking race! I just barely slid in under the 2:00 mark finishing in 1:59:41 for a total time of 5:22:44.
Run time: 1:59:41 (9:08/mi)
Run rank: 7/12 AG, (146th OA, 42%) That's right, I was first in my AG for the swim and the bike, and didn't even make it into the top HALF on the run!
Post Race
For the time being I didn't know what my finishing time was and I didn't care. They gave me a water bottle wrapped in a cool, wet towel (what a great idea!) and I started squirreling away all the food I could find in the finish. I let a volunteer take off my chip without telling her it was covered in pee, got my finisher's medal, and made my way back to transition. On the way I saw the results that had been posted so far, and saw that Bobby had finished in a blazing 5:03:36. He wouldn't be taking home a check, but he DID PR. I would have to wait till later to find out whether my time was good enough to finally realize my dream of beating ONE of Bobby's past times from ever in his life, or to see who had had a faster bike split (the only discipline we're comparable at). Lucky for you, I now know the answers and you don't have to wait like I did. My bike split was a heartbraking 41 seconds slower than his (see references to a truck nearly running me over, and a volunteer sending me off course above). A quick check of last year's results for the same race reveal that I was only 30 seconds short of his time last year. Given, last year the bike course was 2 miles longer and the run had an extra .5 miles, but still... 30 seconds!!! I'm so close I can taste it!
The fabulous chafing on my neck from the zipper on my new 2xU tri top.
I dumped whatever was not absolutely essential in transition and made my way back to the lake to "cool off my legs" (rinse off the pee). As I was walking up I saw the hot girl and her friend taking off their shoes to go in the lake as well. She was so stiff it took her almost a full minute to get her shoes off. "Wow, watching you do that makes me feel SO much better about how horrible I feel!" I said. Plus I got a great view of her butt. We talked about the race and they agreed that it was harder than it looked. "I did a much better time at Timberman last year, and that course is HILLY!" the man friend said. So there you go, the course was hard.
I ran into my BFF bike lady who was eating lunch at a picnic table. "Hey, congratulations!" I said. "How'd you do?!"
She looked at me perplexed. "Thanks... do I know you??"
I put on the biggest 'I'm not crazy' smile I could muster and said, "I'm the bike girl!" Luckily I DID have the right person, and she was happy to see me again having put me back in context. No restraining orders were filed.
I suspected I might have gotten second in my age group, and Bob wanted to hear how he would have stacked up against his own age group, so we heaped our plates high with the free lunch provided by the race and sat down to listen. I was only sort of listening. When he got to my age group, I tuned in. I wanted to get another look at this 29-year-old chick and find out how much time she had put into me on the run. "And first place in the women's 25-29 category: Claire Badass Mofo!" He even pronounced my last name right (which is not really Badass Mofo).
"WHAT?!" I think Bobby had to push me to remind me to get up.
"You look surprised," the race director said as I went up to accept my plaque.
"I AM!" I said. Then I said something incoherent about thinking another chick had passed me.
"GO CLAIRE!!!!!!!" Screamed BFF bike lady as I walked back to my seat. She won her age group too, and I screamed back for her.
Bobby also would have won his age group. In fact I would have won his age group, which was disappointing for him, because somehow he hasn't managed to pull a podium all season. Goodness knows how with the times he's posting, but he took a gamble on competing elite, and that was ballsy.
The chick from the bike rack finished 20 minutes behind me, in case you were wondering. The chick that won came in 23 minutes ahead of me (after having less than a 1-minute lead on the bike), and the next chick in my age group was only 2.5 minutes behind me.
Overall time: 5:22:44
Overall rank: 1/12 AG, 13th woman out of ??? (82nd OA, 24%)
I could go on and on about how happy I was, how sore I was, how I swore I was going to quit triathlon for good, but that doesn't really matter. I really was regretting signing up for that second mountain running race the next day though. Man, all I wanted to do was sleep! Coming up next: how THAT one turned out.
Me, Michelle, and some random woman who is NOT Big Red. This is absolutely, positively not Red, who I promised I would not post pictures of. The woman on the left is SOME OTHER LADY. 
Finally it was time for my wave to start. I don't know if I'm in this picture, but let's imagine that this girl in the sleeveless wetsuit and black goggles is me. I have a sleeveless wetsuit and black goggles!
How very me. I'm not even out of the water and I'm checking my watch. I can never remember unzipping my wetsuit... I guess I do it as soon as I stand up.
I love this picture. You can totally see on my face that I can't believe the time that my watch says. It turns out that the course was about 500m short. I'm glad that the photographer got a picture of my double take!
Alright, ONWARDS! (I totally look like shit in this picture! I look about 20 years older than I am.)
Here we go!
This isn't me, but I found it in the lost & found and I love this picture! She totally stopped to pick her wedgie!
'Aaaah! So much better!' Well it looks like she's having fun.
Yes! This is the part we've all been waiting for!
I remember almost crashing into this guy. God knows why he decided to mount on the inside rather than the outside where there was much more room... He never passed me. Nobody did.
And off we go!
Finishing the first loop. I'm averaging 22.6 mph right here and thrilled! Can you see how happy I am? Nope, because I ALWAYS have that face on when I'm riding. 
Note: Camera side knee bent, ALWAYS! I swear that my legs go all the way around!
What I love about the picture above and below is that if you look at the position of my left shoulder (right in the picture), you can tell how hard I'm heaving down on the pedals.
And then I won! (I was SO HOT in that jacket. It was about 85ยบ and HUMID.) What's hilarious about this picture is that I'm standing a full step above the other chick (who I beat by about 17 minutes), and we're STILL the same height.
