Mine Over Matter Full Off-Road Triathlon Relay - June 27th, 2015

What a bloody gong show.

Somehow I got it into my head that start time for this race was 9am. We arrived at 7:30 with plenty of time to pick up kit and get Tanker situated in transition before suddenly hearing that the transition area would be closing at 7:50am.

Erhm, what?

Yeah, so 8am start. Not 9am. Whoops.

By the time I had our kit and got Tanker's number plate on his bike, I had all of 10mins to change (inside my Chawel) into my bathing suit and get at least my lower half stuffed into my wetsuit (which they'd just announced would be legal, contrary to expectations) before we had to vacate transition. With no time to hit a portajohn, that was the only thing getting vacated.

I rubberized myself as best I could, wandered down to the swim exit, and plunged in to flail my way through the water over to the starting area. My total "warm up" was about 50m, and my suit was in need of adjustment.

CO-OPERATE DAMMIT

I waited with the other pink-capped women while the men's wave went off, thankful that at least the water was warm - a pleasant change from Woodstock! I was also grateful that Tanker and I were just doing this race for giggles; between my ongoing hamstring injury, Tank's shaken confidence on the bike and the ridiculous rush due to my start time SNAFU, performance was not the word of the day.

Idiocy, as usual, was.

At 8:03am the horn sounded and I plunged forth to see if I could at least make it through the damn swim without drowning or having to kick on my back (because that was humiliating at Woodstock).

Move it!

I actually felt ok as I headed for the first turn buoy - my arms were turning over and I wasn't feeling gassed or sore. Probably would have been better if we'd managed more than 5-6hrs of sleep per night all week, but it was a little late for that know.

Hey, I'm doing it!

There was only one problem: despite being able to sight the buoy without issue, I was having no luck actually keeping myself on course toward it. I kept drifting off to my left, and my corrections seemed ineffective at best.

The red line is not the fast line.

I must have swum at least an extra 50m just due to my inability to move in a straight line. The advantage was that I had plenty of clear water around me to do my own thing - the disadvantage was that I had a lot of catching up to do.

I did eventually manage to get my navigation under control, right about the time I hit the first turn buoy. I actually felt pretty good as I stroked my way through the rest of the course and commenced passing people. I did in fact swim the whole thing as I'd hoped, and felt fairly strong.

Unfortunately, it would later turn out that I should have started in the first wave. So, apart from my own rather pathetic lack of skill in the water leading to a slow time of 22:30 (at 2:15/100m), we ended up with an additional 3 minutes being tacked onto team ill advised racing inc.'s swim result.

I wasn't much faster running into transition, either.

1,000m swim: 25:30 @ 2:32/100m
8/9 relay teams

So yeah, I only beat one person out of the water - the guy who'd never swum in open water before, and who was wearing a shorty jet ski wetsuit...backwards. Fortunately, Tanker was ready and rarin' to go shred the bike course!

T1: 00:52

Passing a random chick leaving the mount line

Laser-like focus

Through the first loop

Looking strong

Not that you'd know it from the photos, but I heard from Tanker later that he found the bike course quite a challenge. Apart from the joy of having to ride up the Niagara Escarpment (repeatedly), the nature of the trails themselves were plenty to keep him on his toes...and occasionally off his bike, either to walk something that was just too sketchy looking or picking himself up from something it might've been better to walk.

I feel slightly less wussy about my spotty history with the bike course here after hearing Tank say afterward that he'd "never been so terrified while having so much fun."

Dogged determination

I hung out in transition, having changed into my running kit under my Chawel and thrown on a sweater to try to keep from freezing on the cool, windy, overcast morning.

Waiting game

I chatted a bit with a volunteer patrolling the transition area, slammed back a tin of mango nectar, and engaged in a long and elaborate series of dynamic stretches in an attempt to loosen up my legs and stop my teeth from chattering.

Bikes and racks

Trying to judge the time Tank would be back from playing in the dirt based on his first loop, I took a caffeinated gel at about 9:40am in anticipation of the run to come. I wished I could run over to the portajohns as I needed to pee (I'd been staying well hydrated while I waited and shivered), but I couldn't risk not being there when Tank got back. When it passed 10am and the trickle of mountain bikes coming into transition all but dried up I started to get a bit concerned, but just before 10 past my sweetheart was charging hard toward the dismount line.

Rockin' and rollin'

21km bike: 1:43:17 @ 12.2kph

9/9 relay teams

Ripping toward our rack.

A quick kiss and a swap of the chip strap from his ankle to mine, then I was on my way.

T2: 00:48

Hoping like hell my hamstrings hold together.

From the run exit, I was directed down a mowed pathway through the long grass between the parking area and the pond. This brought me out to the quarry driveway; the giant, paved hill that represents the start of the bike course. With no volunteers around and the only other runner I could see ditched behind me (having passed him as I ran across the grass), I wasn't sure if I was headed in the right direction. I'd looked at the new maps on the website, but every other year the run had started with a slog up the double track hill on the north side of the race site that the bike course now took down to transition. Was I running the wrong damn way?

Aroo?

I decided there was nothing else for it - I'd just keep on trucking, and if someone told me I was in the wrong place, I'd deal with that when it happened.

I felt surprisingly strong on the climb up to the trails, and finally found some peace of mind as I passed an aid station without the volunteers yelling "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" - they just kindly offered me water or sport drink, both of which I declined before darting into the forest.

It was a bit eerie not being able to see another soul during a race, but I thoroughly enjoyed the run regardless. The new course, I came to figure out, is the first 7.8km loop of the bike leg - the run around the pond afterward brings it up to the new distance of 9.8km (which the timing company lists as 9.5k for some reason). While being technical enough to keep your attention on foot, the whole thing is supremely runnable. I danced over roots and rocks, thinking that Sulphur Springs was excellent training for these trails, and just delighting in being surrounded by forest with nothing but the soughing wind as company. I felt fitter than I expected, and my injured leg was quietly getting on with its job even after I stepped wrong on something or other and rolled my right ankle a bit. Pure trail bliss.

Though it may not look like it here..

I grabbed a cup of water from the second aid station, having a sip and dumping the rest on my chest for cooling, figuring I must be about halfway through the run course by now. I had no way of knowing for sure, as the kilometers weren't marked and I wasn't even wearing my watch - I'd ditched it when Tanker was on his way into transition as knowing the time wouldn't have any impact on my ability to run. Fortunately my injury didn't seem to be a limiting factor, and I was able to push fairly hard...as plainly evidenced by the death whistle starting up no more than 6k in as I strained up a root-strewn climb.

I finally found another competitor on course just before I came out of the woods again, passing him as he walked and reassuring him there was a big downhill coming. Of course, I'd forgotten the short climb on the doubletrack that comes before the long, pounding descent. I saw a girl on her way up it as I puffed life a freight train on my way to the top, and decided to zero in on her as a rabbit.

Down, down, down the other side, back to quarry level again. I grabbed another cup of water from the last aid station near transition, having one more sip to wet my mouth and dumping the rest down my back. It wasn't terribly warm out, but I'd sweat while running in a meat locker, so it was welcome. As I pounded my way around the pond I passed my rabbit, plus two other competitors ahead of me - advantage of being a relay runner and having fresher legs. My damaged hamstrings were starting to talk now, but I knew I was only minutes away from being done - this was no time to let up!

Rounding the end of the pond and coming face to face with a blast of wind, I kept pushing hard as I came through the final turn and into the finish chute with damn near nothing left in me.

At least my leg was still smiling!

9.5km run: 58:47 @ 6:11/km

9/9 relay teams

Definitely not going to be tapped for the Olympic team at any point soon, though if the race organizers are correct about the distance being 9.8km I actually managed a 6:00/km pace through hilly and technical terrain. Even if it was only 9.5km, that's almost twice as far as I've run at one time since this idiot injury happened, and I think made for a pretty decent showing for an out-of-shape semi-cripple.

Official time: 3:09:15 (should be 3:06:15)

9/9 relay teams

It's a good thing we just do this for fun, eh?

Team ill advised racing inc. - done with no major damage!

We really couldn't have timed the finish much better anyway. Within 5mins of my crossing the line, the first of the rain that had been threatening all morning began to fall, and in no time it was positively bucketing down!

Watering down my coffee, dammit!

It was a fun day of racing with my sweetheart, and I'm just glad we both finished intact with smiles on our faces. What more could you really ask for?

Trepidation

I kind of feel like I've been invited to watch a car accident tomorrow.

While I still struggle with that damn, niggling hamstring tendon issue, I have managed to run a bit lately. Mostly because I well and truly hate life when I'm not running, but also because I knew I'd have to run at least 8km of hilly, technical trail at Mine Over Matter. Tanker and I had signed up to do this as a relay this year, partly because his interest was piqued by doing another off-road tri together (which hasn't happened since the Belwood Fat Tire Try-a-Tri we did all the way back in 2010), and partly because he wanted to check out the bike course that broke me.

The race has evolved since then, going from a tiny little event with under 100 people the first time I did it in 2011 (when I finished successfully) to a 300+ strong qualifier for the Xterra World Championships. To make things even more interesting, both the bike and run courses have changed since I went back to reclaim a bit of dignity last year.

The bike course is now a short 1st loop of 7.8km and longer 2nd loop of 13.2km, so Tanker will be riding 21km instead of the 2 x 9km loops of prior years. No problem - he's totally going to rock it, having got his bit of mountain bike teething trouble out of the way last weekend.

This washed out riverstone is neither easy to ride nor friendly to elbows.

I, however, am facing three very real problems.

1) The swim. It looks like it won't be wetsuit legal due to the temperature of the water, and after my utterly hapless swim at Woodstock 3 weeks ago (in spite of the extra flotation provided by my full-sleeve wetsuit), I'll be lucky if the water safety crew doesn't have to fish my sorry arse out of the pond.

Prognostication

2) Temperature. The high for Saturday is supposed to be 17c/63f, and I'm going to emerge from the pond soaking wet with probably at least 90mins to hang around and freeze while Tanker goes forth and rips up the bike course like it owes him money.

GIVE'ER BABY!

3) The run. Even assuming I'm not a solid block of ice by the time Tanker returns triumphantly from shredding the gnar, I'm going to have to limp my damaged carcass through almost 10km of terrain almost purpose-built to worsen the particular injury I'm trying to fight through. I can't even rely on my reconnaissance from prior years, as the route has changed for 2015 while increasing from 8.64 kilometers to 9.8k. The only thing I know for sure is I'll still have to do the lung-bursting scamper up the side of the quarry to reach the trails, try not to trip over the multitudinous roots and rocks while I'm up there, and endeavour to save something after the quad-destroying descent back to the quarry floor for the final loop around the pond.

All this while I haven't run more than 5km since I hurt myself on May 30th, clocking just under 37km total for the month of June so far - just a smidge less than the 200+k/month I'd averaged from January to May. 

At least I'm well tapered?

Stick a fork in it.

Since this will be my last post of  2014 (yes, you'll be spared my drivel next week - REJOICE!), I figured I'd take a look back at what the year held for this ill advised racer.

I started in January with one of my favourite events - the Frosty Trail 3-hour. It was a tough day with tricky, ever-changing conditions, and I'm pretty sure the end result was a personal worst distance to go with the bruised feet and torn up shoes.

These were in mint condition before the race.

Still, it was great fun and I actually won my division - trail racing is so subject to the conditions on the course that even a personal worst can be a decent outcome! It was widely regarded as one of the slowest days ever at that particular venue.

February was devoted to training my butt off so I'd be ready when the end of March rolled in, bringing the Around the Bay 30k with it. I had worked incredibly hard for this, and it paid off with a 10+min PR at that race and 3.5min PR at the distance. My sub-3 goal? Yeah, got that, and then some. This was probably my best performance of the entire year, and I have months of kicking my cranky arse out the door in a polar vortex to thank for that.

Vindication.

Of course, there was no time to rest on my laurels, because I had stupidly decided it would be a shame to "waste" all that run fitness and signed up for the Waterloo Marathon at the end of April. I caught a cold, soldiered through idiotically instead of resting up, and fell short of my 4:10 goal time by almost seven and a half minutes. I just did not have it in me on race day, though as much as I whine about it I still bagged a 20+min PR at both that distance and that race.

That'll do.

So with triathlon season about to start, it was time to gear the running down and ramp up the cycling. I had every intention of spending the next couple of weeks after the marathon absolutely living on my bikes, trying to translate some of the aerobic fitness into pedaling power. Then, this:

Snorky's ok.

Being hit by a car (two days after crashing my mountain bike, no less) put a significant damper on my training for the next few days, and it was weeks before I was anywhere near 100% again. Nonetheless, at less than 3 weeks post-hood ornament, I lined up for one of the coldest starts to triathlon season yet: the Woodstock Sprint.

I put together a really slow swim, a bike hampered by idiot drivers and poor fitness, and a pretty poor run to come in almost 2 full minutes later than I did in 2013, when I simply hadn't done the training I should. Who knew that playing bumper cars on a bicycle would be bad for performance?

Though I suppose finishing at all was enough of a win.
Maybe even starting counts.

Then came a crazy block of events in June - the Heels & Wheels trail 5k at which I actually took 3rd woman overall (!), the Cambridge Tour de Grand 72k (not a race, but lots of fun!), the Welland Triathlon that Tanker and I did as a relay, then an extra-poignant Together We Travel Ride for Angels in which I wore the same kit that had gone skidding across the pavement in May.

My first overall award at Heels & Wheels!

Rolling through Grand River country with my sweetheart.

Tanker off to kick the Welland bike course's ass!

Riding around Niagara Falls after the Welland relay tri

Together We Travel - Ride for Angels is a critical mass ride
to raise awareness for cycling safety, in memorial of a man
who was killed when he was hit by a car in Waterloo Region.

I finally had a couple of weeks to buckle down for some serious training before returning to the site of my unfortunate horizontal trackstand of 2012 for the Mine Over Matter Full Off-Road Triathlon on the first Saturday of July. Despite a head-on collision with another athlete during my swim warm-up, I made it through the whole race unscathed and didn't even mind too much when I had the absolute slowest bike split out of any athlete that day,

My saddle coming loose and turning skyward probably didn't help.

A couple of weeks later I was back to one of my favourite race sites for a new experience - doing the Belwood Triathlon as a lone competitor! Tanker and I had always done this race as a relay in the past, but after hearing him rave about the lovely cycle course we decided to switch it up for 2014. I had a pretty good swim, suffered in the hills on the bike, then had a breakthrough run out of nowhere! I ran faster for the final 7.5km portion of that tri than I ever have in a stand-alone 5k.

On the move!

With no further racing on the schedule until September, there were adventures to be had! We laughed and paddled through rainy days in the backcountry at Frontenac Provincial Park, covering 6 lakes in 4 days before jetting off to Bon Echo Provincial Park for another couple of days of front country camping, hiking and kayaking along the incredible heights of Mazinaw Rock.

Soggy in Frontenac

Tanker's first canoe tour!

Bon Echo's quartzite cliffs

Tanker discovering pictographs on Mazinaw Rock

August saw some training happen as I tried to ready myself for fall racing, but the final week of the month was dedicated to our annual motorcycle tour. We had a wonderful trip exploring a science centre and a shipwreck museum, camping in Killarney Provincial Park, freezing ourselves at Brimley State Park on Lake Superior's southern shore, then drinking in the rich history of Fayette State Park before leaving Michigan's Upper Peninsula to return to South Higgins Lake State Park and on to the always-enjoyable Great Lakes Rally outside Detroit. We arrived home exhausted but full of incredible memories!

Making friends at Science North

Lake Superior sunset

Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum

Charcoal blast ovens at Fayette State Park

Endless dunes on the north shore of Lake Michigan

Huge campsite at South Higgins Lake

Riding with friends at GLR

Suffice to say over a week of almost no training was not precisely helpful on the tough course of the Lakeside Olympic Triathlon in September. It was cold, I had navigation issues during the swim, a minor mechanical problem (that fortunately resolved itself) and a major fitness fail (which did not resolve itself) on the bike, and a somewhat redeeming run. Overall, a bit meh, but I'll take that 1sec Olympic distance run PR!

This bit, on the other hand, sucked pretty badly.

Since I hadn't entered any fall trail races other than my traditional season-ender, I was able to take the last weekend of September and join seemingly the entire province in Algonquin Park for a weekend of camping & solo backpacking. The weather suddenly turned hot and dry as the fall colours hit their peak, and I ended up exceeding all expectations I had of myself on the trail while seeing some incredible sights along the way.

Falls on the Madawaska River.

Sunrise over Head Lake

The Starling Lake lookout

Forest ablaze with colours

Two weeks after that, it was back to the woods for Campsgiving at Valens Lake Conservation area. We thoroughly enjoyed discovering this local gem, and will assuredly be back in the future to enjoy its beautiful lake, trails and boardwalks.

Overlooking the reservoir

Marsh boardwalk

I started to back off training to taper for my one and only ultra for 2014, and seemed to be running really well when I got hit with a calf injury out of nowhere right before the race. With an aggressive rehab strategy and absolutely no running in the few days before the event, I lined up at the start of the Horror Hill 6-hour with zero expectations other than to try and see. Much to my surprise, I made it through the entire race and even posted a PR distance!

Who would've thought?

Now ordinarily my season ends with Horror Hill. After you've run for 6 hours, what else is there really to do? Once again, I'd hatched a crack-brained scheme so I wouldn't "waste" my run fitness, culminating in a failed 10k PR attempt at the Kona Chocolate Run. Fortunately, I had so much spending the weekend with friends we dearly love and pacing one of said friends through the subsequent 5k race to a huge PR for him that it's impossible to think of doing the Chocolate Double as anything but a win.

This moment here is worth more than any medal.

Overall, I wouldn't say this year's race results were terribly impressive. I'm quite proud of the huge PR at Around the Bay and I have most assuredly taken my running to a new level this year, but between the lack of cycling and some other poor decision making, I wasn't really able to translate that into racing performance throughout the season.

I can, however, take away at least one positive thing from each race I did, and each one has fond memories or silly stories attached to it. Furthermore, there were almost no points I can think of in which I gave anything less than the best I had in me to give on the day. Since I'm just a Joe Schmo athlete that pays to enter these athletic events for the fun and challenge of them, I think that's more important than the final numbers anyway.

Wishing you all the best of the holiday season - peace, joy and a wonderful new year. I'll see you in 2015!

Merry Dorkmas to all, and to all a good night!