Two Hours of Terror, Followed by a 10K -- Nautica NYC Triathlon Race Report

First of all, let me start by thanking all of the amazing people who donated to the Aubrey Fund on behalf of my first triathlon effort.  I could not be more thankful, and believe me when I say that I could not have done it without you.  Literally.

That being said, onwards. 

I have to tell you, I'm actually afraid to write this.  The whole triathlon experience has freaked me out in a way that I have never been freaked out before, and not in a good way.  Unlike the marathon, I am having trouble looking at pictures, watching video, or even thinking about it.  In fact, my stomach is as clenched up writing this as it was in the days following the event.

This is going to have to be a multi-parter, because I sense the long-ness of the post.

Coming into the event, I was more nervous than I was for any of my marathons, although I would venture to say that I was about as prepared as I could have been.  What was freaking me out in the days leading up to the tri was not my prep, but the weather.  All forecasts predicted rain and thunderstorms.  Great.  While I have plenty of experience running in the rain, I've never biked in a heavy rain, nor swam in it.   So I was sweating it big time.

For once in their lives, the weather people had it right -- thunderstorms all Saturday night, and a steady rain at 3:30 am, when I set out to catch the shuttle bus to the start line. Talked to a couple of people from the CNN team who were also doing their first tri on the way over.

Arrive at transition, where my bike was, a little after 4:00.  I was in the yellow, or first transition area.  That's for pros and the first wave of amateurs.  I guess the idea is get the slowpokes going first, so that the faster folks later catch up to them, and we all finish more or less together. Otherwise, they'll be waiting for me forever.  I've never set out a transition area.  Find my bike, where I left it the night before.  Lucky for me, the person next to me did not show, and I'm on the end,  so I have about a foot more room.  I split it with the gal next to me.  Since it's still raining, I don't want to lay everything out.  I had packed everything into a "bike" bag and a "run" bag.  I just left everything in the bags, put my helmet on top, covered it with a plastic bag, and headed out to the start, taking breakfast with me.

It's a one-mile walk to the start. I walked with a 70-year-old gentleman (our ages are written on our legs)  who had done all the NYC tri's since they started, and about 50-something marathons all over the country.  Damn.  He was talking about how this was his last one. 

Arrived at the start line, and saw one of my Fred's Teammates, Dr. Mark.  He's been my running buddy for a number of events, as we ran at the same pace for a while.  He's one of the top thorascic and lung cancer doctors in the US.  He runs with Fred's Team, and his donation $ goes back to his department to fund research studies.  Amazing.  It's his first tri, too.  His daughter and son-in-law are there with him.  We sit together and attempt to put our wetsuits on.

Still raining, and I'm still freaking, and then they announce that there's been an accident on the Henry Hudson (the bike route) and the race will be delayed until the roadway is clear. Great.  Delay my pain.  Fortunately, the rain lets up somewhat, and by the time the accident is cleared and they call us into the corralls, it's let up to a light drizzle.

Mark and I part company, and as I move to my corrall, I see Teammates Abby and Matt.  Matt actually works for Fred's Team, but he'll be running NYC.  Abby and I joined the Team together, and ran at the same pace for the first couple of years, so we became good buddies.  Abby actually did the Tri her third year with the Team, and hurt her hip shortly thereafter, knocking her out of the marathon, which she hasn't done since.  Amazing person that she is, she still comes to all the practices and races, volunteering as bag watcher and cheerleader.  She's an excellent swimmer, and was giving me tips beforehand.  I was glad to see her, as she kept me reasonably calm and together up until, 45 minutes late, the race actually began.

THE SWIM:
I have been told by everyone who has done this swim that the swim is the easiest portion of the race.  You are with the current.  The current is strong.  A bag of chips can make it point to point in 20 minutes.

Well, let me tell you, the Hudson River, right after a series of thunderstorms, is not the easiest portion of the race.  And I am no bag of chips.

Unlike years past, they changed the swim start so instead of 100 people jumping in at once, it's 20 people every 30 seconds.  It spreads out the field a little and makes the whole swim safer.  But what it means is, you get on the dock, sit down (no diving) and whoosh, you're off, with no time to adjust.  Maybe that's good.  Maybe not.  All I know is, I jumped in, came up, got smacked with a faceful of water, and instantly realized that I was not doing the crawl.

The water was rough.  People I spoke to who had done the race in past years said that on a scale of 1 to 10, the water was a 7.  Usually, it's a 1.  Why do I get the 7 year?

If you did not already hear this, two people died during the swim this year -- a 60-year-old  man and a 40-year-old woman.  There have been studies done that show that 90 percent of deaths during triathlons happen during the swim.  There are many theories and factual reasons for this that I won't get into right now, but let me say right now that it is not the fault of the race organizers.  As horrifying as the swim was for me personally, the race organizers made the course as safe as it could possibly be.  There were kayaks every couple of hundred of feet along both sides of the swim, plus fire boats, medical boats, other boats -- there was help that could get to you in less than two minutes, and I watched them do just that in a couple of instances.  So when you hear about a tragedy during an event, don't be so quick to blame the event.

Anyways, rough, rough water.  Yes, we were with the current, but the waves were coming at us, so it was making me very seasick, and made moving forward exhausting --  two-steps-forward-one-step-back.  After a couple of aborted attempts to try the crawl, I switched to sidestroke, but again, fighting the waves grew exhausting. 

Here's the thing -- as terrified as I was, I never thought I was in danger of drowning.  I don't know what the terror was.  But I was clearly terrified, and had to roll over on my back a number of times and just float for a minute or two to rest and get my heart rate down.  I thought a lot about Liam, and this amazing picture of him in a wetsuit.  Liam loved the water.  I prayed to Liam to help me through. 

I was soon getting passed by wave after wave of swimmers, and I tried not to care, but it was starting to upset me.  At one point, a woman from my wave who was similarly struggling looked over at me and said, "You're doing fine."   Thank God for her, because I thought I'd be out there by myself forever.  Someone in my boat, so to speak.  I thanked her. I did find it weird how easy it was for people to speak with each other in the water, as there was a lot of  "Sorry," "Coming through," and "Fuck, that's my goggles."

Just when I thought I couldn't swim another stroke, I finally made it to the dock.  A volunteer grabbed my hand and pulled me up the ramp.  I was wearing my VFF Flows, and my feet felt like lead.  They instantly propel you towards land -- no waiting around.  You walk off the dock and to your right is a series of showers to go through to wash some of the Hudson muck off you. 

Through the showers, and now it's a half mile to the transition area (which is why I wore the Flows.)  I tried running, but I was exhausted.  Some of the Fred's Team cheering section was right there, and I think I gave them a little wave, but that's all I had energy for.  So I walked/jogged down the path to get to the bike.

One of the few advantages of being in the yellow transition is that there are benches along the path to the transition area, and it's much easier to sit on a bench, remove your wetsuit, and take it with you than it is to try to sit in the mudfield that is now the yellow transition and do it in eight inches of space.  So I did that, and that break helped me rest up a little.

Got into my bike gear, lubed up, and headed out of transition. I was glad I kept my stuff in bags.  Everything was still dry.  Some of the people were there talking about how hard the swim was, which made me feel a little better about it.

Out of the gate and past the yellow "mount" line, I mounted my bike and headed out. 

The top of the bike leg is the hardest, because it involves a sharp left turn in which you head up a two-part hill to 79th Street.  I had practiced this.  At all the briefings, you are told over and over again to leave your bike in an easy gear because of this hill.   I was prepared for this hill.  Alas, not so the woman next to me, who turned and instantly wiped out.  Fortunately, I was able to avoid her, but as I'm halfway up the second hill, the idiot in front of me stops and gets off her bike.  Now I'm stuck.  I have to stop and unclip, and three people around me do, too.  Now I have no momentum and can't get up the rest of the hill.  The volunteer is screaming, "Walk it!  Walk it!"  but I can't unclip my right foot.  So I half pedal, half push myself up the rest of the hill, hop onto the seat, and head, literally, for the hills.

More anon.

Splish-Splash: Scotland Run 10K Race Report

Saturday was the Homecoming Scotland 10K in Central Park.

I've always wanted to run this race, but haven't been in the city for the past couple of years to run it. It's not like anything special happens for this race-- it's just a loop of the Park -- but we've got a few Scots on our team, and I thought it would be fun to borrow a kilt and some of those devastatingly sweet Scottish candies (but no Irn-Bru!!) and celebrate.

Tangent -- if you've never had Irn-Bru, it's a Scottish energy drink that tastes like carbonated bubble gum. Kid you not.

Alas, the weather on Saturday was soggy and cold, and our resident Scots were not about (Lynn, at least -- resting up for Boston!) But I signed up for it, and the race sponsors thoughtfully included a rain poncho in the swag bag. They also included a full-sized Scottish flag. Not quite so useful.

I needed to get a few extra miles in, to prepare for the More Half-Marathon in a few weeks. So an hour early, beponchoed and ready to get wet, off I went.

The thing about the poncho is, the parts that are in the poncho get rather warm, while the rest of the body got cold. It wasn't raining especially hard, but it was steady, and kind of windy. Blech. The conditions reminded me of the Norwegian Run three years ago, where we all got injured because the rain made everyone slip, and my hair (which at the time was halfway down my back) got so waterlogged it pulled my head back and gave me a neckache. Wounds still fresh, I kept it slow, not like there's much speed to be had, and decided definitively to only do 5 beforehand, not 6.

Did a counter-clockwise loop and got to the finish line with a little under ten minutes before the start. Saw John in the first corral, and headed on down to the slowpoke corrals. Actually, I am set to be in a faster corral, because my best mile time was 7:54. This was two years ago, granted, but they still have me there. As an honest person, I usually head a few corrals back from mine, because I like to start slow (unfortunately, I tend to then stay slow and finish slow, but that's another story!) I saw Teammate Ashley in one of the corrals as I was heading back, and ducked in to hang with her. She had just done 16 miles, this was her last long run before the NJ Marathon. She's much faster than I am, even after 16 miles, but we started together.

The race itself -- nothing exciting to report about it. Got passed by Teammates David and Nicole (who I believe were also getting their last long runs in, in prep for the Flying Pig.) David was wearing his Irn-Bru racing shirt. Also, loved seeing men in kilts doing the run. Don't know why, I think kilts are sexy.

The only goal I had for this race was to finish in under an hour. I am slow, slow. slow to begin with, plus the weather, plus I was also wearing a Race Belt with Gatorade in it (because of the 5 beforehand) which slowed me even more. Last year I trained myself out of wearing the Race Belt at races, and it's a little hard to wear now. I hate how slow I've become, but I said to Ashley before the race, when she asked me about the More Half, that my goal was to finish, and I'll worry about speed when the Team starts training. And I think I believe that.

Crossed the finish line in just under 59 minutes, about 3 minutes slower than I'd like.

Hoofed through a mud field to get a soggy bagel. Once I stopped moving, the wind and rain began to take its toll and I got really cold, so I didn't stick around for the raffle and the festivities.

All in all, a good day. The afternoon nap felt well-deserved.

PS: By the next post, I will have my Fred's Team act together and then LET THE FUNDRAISING BEGIN!

PPS: Interesting conversation I overheard by two runners leaving the Park. they were complaining that NYRR has said they're trying to "green up" the races, yet they're giving out plastic ponchos and there were plastic water bottles at the end of the race instead of the customary cups (this is not the norm -- sometimes the sponsors give bottled water. This was a special brand of Scottish bottled water.) Good point. How can NYRR green up the races, and what can we as individual runners do to help that process along?

Race Report: NYRR 50th Anniversary 5-Miler

It's 7:15am, and I just returned from the NYRR 50th Anniversary Run in Central Park.

I woke up at 4:20am to heavy rain. I decided to ignore my mandate about not running in the rain until training begins and headed over to the race start. I wore a water-resistant hat and rain jacket. Water-resistant means, basically, nothing. I was soaked to the skin by the time I walked the seven blocks to the race start. I had my iPod in a plastic bag and Saran Wrap around the battery. The race was capped at 3,000 and a lot of people did come out, unlike the Wall Street Run. Runners are crazy!

The race started at 5:30am, and just as the race was starting the rain let up a little. It drizzled the whole time afterwards, but nothing too bad. It was cold, which of course I love. But there were a lot of puddles and as we all know, running sneakers aren't very waterproof. I didn't want to get blisters, not when I've got two races coming up this weekend. My secret weapon? A&D ointment! Yes, diaper rash cream. Better than Body Glide for feet because it is waterproof. Although it does have what I will kindly call an unusual smell. But it works -- my feet are blister (and diaper rash) free. The course -- counter-clockwise from Tavern on the Green, with the cut-off at the 102nd Street transverse. Five miles.

The stats: Mile 1 -- 8:25. Still a little crowded and I like to start slow. Mile 2 has Cat Hill, but still -- 8:14. Mile 3 is a little rolly, but nothing too severe and takes us to the transverse -- 8:11. A cup of much-needed water at the water station. Mile 4 is mostly uphill and I knew I wouldn't keep the negative splits, but 8:17 made me happy. And the last mile -- 7:47! For a grand total of somewhere between 40:37 (what the Nike+ said) and 40:55 (what my watch said.) or approximately an 8:08/minute mile. That's normally my four-mile pace, so to do that for five miles, well, I'm chuffed. The soggy bagels and bananas tasted extra good, even if I did mistakenly take a chocolate-chip bagel, thinking it was cinnamon-raisin.

Okay, off to school, I've got a test today. Wish me luck!!
MG

Run-Down in the Rain, Plus Three Cool Evenings Out

So on Tuesday I went for a run in the rain. I was exhausted, having not gotten enough sleep for the past few nights, but I was so full of nervous energy I had to get out of the house. If you look at the sidebar you can see that my pace for the 3+ miles was under an 8-minute mile. Pretty impressive for me speed-wise, yes. I just needed to burn some of that energy off. Maybe not the brightest idea in the world, as now I have a cold, and a 15K coming up. And I know, the rain didn't give me a cold. It was the rain plus my run-down-i-ness. Let me just say I wasn't the only person out there, lest you think I am totally bonkers. I am, but I'm not alone.

The reason for all my run-downness is that my roommate of nearly 14 years, Laura, is leaving. She accepted a new job that is going to take her out of the country, most likely permanently. We knew this day would come, but it's still hard. Complicating matters is that I will be heading back down to Florida next week, and won't even be around when Laura leaves. So, to make a long, depressing story very short, it's been hard.

Anybody need a large room in a lovely 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom apartment in beautiful midtown Manhattan? Must love cats and humor runners.

Three things I saw these past couple of weeks that I must share:

-I was supposed to have drinks with my friend Erin after work. She calls me and says, "Slight change of plans. How'd you like to see Eric Clapton?" Huh? Turns out that a work connection had something to do with the concert and had tickets available. So, heck yeah! We get to the Garden, get our tickets, and are taken to our section, 63. The ticket said "Stevie Winwood / Eric Clapton" and I thought oh, Steve Winwood is opening for Eric Clapton. So we start walking down, down, down...oh, my God, we are on the side of the stage, THREE ROWS UP. And while that is Steve Winwood singing, that's, is that? Yes, that IS Eric Clapton PLAYING WITH HIM. Holy crap! We tried taking pictures with our camera phones, but all we got was blurs of light. An astounding show. Lots of jamming, and except for one comment by Steve Winwood ("Are you all having as much fun as I am? It's such an honor to be sharing the stage with Eric Clapton.") there was no banter. Really one of the most amazing concerts, and mind-blowing evenings, in recent memory. Of course, the pot smokers were right behind us. Aren't they always?

-Went to see "Sunday In The Park With George" at Studio 54. If you're in NY and have the chance to see this, run. Even if you're not a Sondheim fan, it will blow you away. Even if you absolutely hate musicals and Sondheim makes your ears bleed, you will love this show. Why? The visuals. It is the most innovative, entertaining, inventive, and beautiful-looking show you will ever see. They use a combination of projections, animation, and video to bring the painting and the scenery to life, and I can't even describe it. You have to see it for yourself. And the best, and perhaps oddest part about all the technology is how warm and human it was. Just go. Go. You'll thank me.

-Lastly, my friend Shirley got tickets to a secret Eddie Izzard show. He's been doing a series of workshops to hone his material before launching his new stand-up concert, and this was one of those workshops. It was supposed to start at 10:30 but they only did will-call and it took a LONG time to get everyone in (It was at the Union Square Theater.) It didn't get started until after 11pm, and Eddie had a cold and it was hard to understand him because of his hoarseness and the not-so-great sound, but it was a lot of fun. Yesterday Shirley discovered he'd be playing Radio City in June. We've already got the tickets.

Sunday is the Colon Cancer runs in the Park. You can do a 4 miler or a 15K, either one counts. Guess which one I signed up for? And the weather this week has been 40s-50s and sunny. This weekend? 30 and rainy.

Sigh...