Woodstock Sprint Triathlon - June 6th, 2015

Like triathlon's goofy slapstick cousin, this was ill advised racing at its finest: just 2 weeks after the Sulphur Springs 50k, still badly over race weight, almost no bike fitness and a fresh, tender injury to boot.

At least I was stylish in my Vanderkitten tri suit!

Meh, whatevs. You punches your ticket, you takes your ride. Pre-race faffing went fine: up at the crack of stupid after something best described as a nap, bagel stuffed in face, arrive at site with plenty of time in the chilly morning air to pick up race kit.

My race bib seems to know me well.
At least I didn't pay full price for my idiocy.

I got my transition area set up neatly, basically working on autopilot. It had only taken me about 10mins total to pack everything up the night beforehand, and even less time to lay it all out ready to go. 

It's almost like I might have done this once or twice - or maybe two dozen times - before.

Portajohn, body lube, drink water, shiver a little. Did you know that BodyGlide goes crumbly after 8 months without being used? Totally fail to apply sunscreen. Do own bodymarking anyway, adding a little essential that the volunteers wouldn't have.

At least part of me will be smiling through the whole thing.

Stuff great walloping mass of lower body into teenytiny rubber suit that hasn't been off its hanger since last September. Remember that I haven't done a swim interval longer than 200m in at least a couple of months. Feign optimism while seriously doubting my ability to even get through the first leg of the damn race.

I'M GOING TO DROWN

With assistance from Tanker the Wonder Sherpa, ascertain that it is at least possible to get the wetsuit zipped up over my ample insulation.

If one of these seams lets go, there will be no survivors within a 100 metre radius.

Into the lake for a laughable warmup swim, the 20c/68f water feeling much chillier than advertised. Swim most of the way out to the first buoy, note that there is some chop running from the East, get swamped, tired and discouraged. Do some kicking and treading water to try to gently warm up the damaged leg while trying to adjust my too-snug wetsuit so it might feel just a little less constrictive. Realize the only true way to achieve that would have been to put down the damn fork a month ago, and swim back to shore while trying to avoid getting whacked in the face by other athletes.

Werrlllll, I survived that bit anyway.

I was in the first wave right at 9am with the pros, elites, men <24 and women 30-39. So, I figured I'd probably be somewhere around last out of the water in my wave, 'cause I've got no damn business being in with the fast bunch.

Or the medium bunch. Or the less-than-glacial-pace bunch.

The horn sounds, I take a couple of steps forward as everyone else leaped in with gusto, and then dive in like a bloated sea lion. There's a mess of flailing limbs around me, some of which are mine.

GURGLE BLUB SPLUTTER

The less said about the swim, the better. That bit of chop - just pathetic little 14" wavelets - seemed intent on swamping me every time I'd try to breathe on the way out to the first turn buoy. Even breathing to the leeward side, they were just big enough to wash over my head and try to drown me. Not having practiced any in more than half a year, I wasn't having an easy time sighting, but seemed to be swimming reasonably straight.

That's about the only thing that went ok.

Between unintentionally hydrating myself with lakewater and my total lack of endurance, I ended up side stroking a bit...and then even flipped on my back to kick for a little. This happened more than once, though I did manage to get myself from the 1st turn buoy to the 2nd swimming front crawl. The chop was, after all, running in the same direction I was swimming at that point. Heading for the swim exit after turn 2, the chop was now coming in from my right and there was more side strokery.

I mean, I know my swimming is never good when I'm recovering from a tough race, but this was pathetic. Overtaken by the 2nd wave of athletes just past the second turn buoy, I felt like a failure.

To distract you from my abysmal swim, here's a picture of some ducklings beside the starting area.

I eventually flopped & flailed my way back to land, got to my feet and gave my damaged hamstring tendons their first test of the day as I waddled toward transition. I had sort of forgotten that I'd have to run up to T1 until I was approaching the swim exit.

750m swim: 17:01 @ 2:16/100m

Haven't been that slow since 2012.

Fortunately, the damaged leg seemed to hold up as I staggered along and started stripping my way out of my rubbery casing. Entering the transition area, I ran along the rack looking for my bike...only to discover I was at the wrong rack. Wobbling my way further along, I finally located my gear.

LEMME OUT

I methodically went through the process of donning my race number, sunglasses, helmet and cycling shoes (a process complicated by not wanting to strain the sore hamstring tendons by bending over too sharply), then began timidly trotting up the hill toward the bike course.

Leg, don't fail me now!

T1: 01:34

00:12 slower than 2014 

Here's where the comedy of errors really gets rolling.

As I ran along, holding my bike by its saddle, the bars swung completely over to the right - effectively halting me in my tracks. I had to use my other hand to correct it and then try to get back into my cautious stride. I finally made it to the mount line just behind a knot of about a dozen other athletes who conspired to completely block the way forward. I mean, I have no problems with running a few metres past the line before hopping on to give other people space, but I literally could not get through. So, I waited. Suddenly making sure my bike was racked with the pedals in the proper position seemed ridiculous - I probably lost 30 seconds just waiting for the mounting area to clear enough for me to swing a leg over my bike. I did actually manage to start my cycle computer, though.

Once I was finally in the saddle, I felt better than expected - didn't even have as tough a time climbing the big stinkin' hill out of the park as I'd feared, just focused on keeping the pedals turning. The air was still cool, but the sun was bright and my own effort kept me warm. Spinning along in the small ring up and over the hill Northbound on 13th line, I settled in and started to enjoy myself a bit, coming through the turn East and then the 5k mark in 12:05 - just under 25kph average.

While learning that being in the 1st swim wave means there are even more people to pass you on the bike.

I made the second turn onto 15th line and pulled out my only nutrition for the race about 17mins into the bike: a single packet of Salted Caramel Gu. I got it into my face without crashing or coming out of aero - for which I feel like I deserve a damn medal, what with it only being my 2nd ride on my tri bike since last fall. I even made it through the hairpin turn-around, though slowly and slightly wobbly, while thanking the police officers on course for keeping us safe. Headed back North again on 15th line, I climbed a rise and then shifted to the big ring as I came over the top and into a gentle downhill..

..promptly dropping the damn chain.

Dammit.

So, laughing a bit - 'cause what else can you do - I coasted down the hill until it started to level out, then pulled over and stopped to sort myself out. It occurred to me later that I could have tried using the shifter to pop it back up onto the chainring, but by that point I'd already dismounted, coated my right hand in grease setting the chain back in place, and had to stand on the pedals to get myself moving again.

Fortunately, the rest of the bike leg was uneventful. I successfully shifted to the big ring and back down again a couple of times, and tried to strike a balance between making up a bit of lost time and saving my legs for what promised to be a fairly feeble run.

But hey - no crashing!

Approaching the dismount line I weighed my options while trying to gauge how well my damaged hamstring was holding up, and elected to forgo my walking-on-air parlour trick in the interest of health and safety. Coming to a complete stop, I gingerly swung my sore leg - which was actually feeling ok - over the bike and lumbered back toward transition.

N00B

20k bike: 47:08 @ 25.46kph

02:11 slower than 2014.

(My cycle computer recorded 45:32 of moving time)

"Running" to transition

Changing from my bike shoes to my run shoes took longer than it should have for a couple of reasons. First, I was still leery of putting too much strain on my sore hamstrings, so had to be careful picking things up off my little mat on the ground. I was also vainly trying to keep from smearing the chain grease that coated my right hand all over my pristine white cycling shoes, so ended up working left-handed while two-thirds of the way through a race for which I was severely undertrained. I'm sure you can imagine how well that worked out. Grabbing my hat at last, I headed for the exit before they decided to start charging me rent.

T2: 01:06

00:05 slower than 2014.

Shift yourself, woman!

The run may have been the source of my greatest trepidation, but it actually went better than I could have expected. I went out fairly easy, partly to test the hamstring and partly because it was pretty clear I wasn't racing for a PR anyway. As always, it seemed to take forever to reach the dam and the 1km marker, especially since they'd poured some aggregate stone on the trail that was rather uncomfortable to run on with chilled feet in my tri loafers.

Which I keep on wearing at Woodstock, despite knowing the course is mostly trail.

I took the steep descent off the far end of the dam very cautiously to spare my poor, damaged tendons as much as I could, and breathed in the phlox-scented air along the river. The sun was scorching, but the air remained cool so I wasn't suffering too badly. Of course, it seemed like everyone in the whole race was running past me like I was standing still, but that was nothing more than I expected.

I figured I might end up DFL, but didn't really care.

Up the sharp climb to the road, I grabbed a cup of water at the aid station just past the 2k mark and took a couple of sips before tossing the rest down my back. I pattered my way up the false flat to the turn-around, then began the final jaunt as I shouted my thanks to the amazing volunteers and offered some encouragement to the other athletes on course. I'd find out later that I unknowingly said a few much-appreciated words to a fellow Vanderkitten VIP who was having a tough time on the run, managing to brighten her day just a little. Honestly, even if I got nothing else out of racing, that would be enough to keep me coming back.

And where else can I flash the ill advised racing gang sign?

With 1k left to go I was death whistling and my sore leg was talking some serious trash to me, but I pushed on and even managed to just barely pass the guy in the Triathlon Club of Burlington kit who appears in all these photos. He beat me on chip time, of course, but it was nice to pass at least someone out there.

Into the chute with zero kick.

I hit the final turn and the gentle downhill to the finish line, glad I didn't seem to have done any further damage to my injured leg and not having had to walk. Some lady who clearly hadn't left it all on course came flying past me and my TCOB companion, but I crossed the line upright and smiling.

We'll call it a win.

5k run: 28:58 @ 5:47/km

00:05 PR!

Just barely holding off the competition.

Official time: 1:35:46

12/23 W35-39 - 96/156 W - 283/388 O/A

02:51 slower than 2014

Just happy to be done.

So it appears I'm getting slower every year I do this race - I went 1:31:06 while undertrained in 2013 and 1:32:55 three weeks after being by a car in 2014. While I may have a few excuses - and maybe even something that qualifies as a reason - I really would like to go under 90mins at this race someday. 

2015, however, was not that day.

Meh.

Still had a hoot doing it on a really beautiful day, though. Of course, then it was time to try to recover hard for further stupidity the next day..

Welland Relay Triathlon - Saturday, June 14th, 2014

So. Much. Fun.

We were up at the crack of stupid, persuading ourselves to prep for the race and giving the air temperature some really nasty side-eye. Even after arriving at the race site an hour and a half before gun time, the weather stayed obstinately cloudy, cool and windy.

Even Tanker stayed in his hoodie until the last minute, and was very happy I suggested a wool base layer.

Stuffing myself in my wetsuit just to stay warm.

No significant pre-race drama - we were able to help out a fellow relay racer with a bike tool, as his rear hydration rack had come loose. Tanker got me zipped up, gave me a kiss, and I headed down to the water. I did get in about 150m of swim warm-up (ha!), then due to the time-trial start and relay teams going last, I had to stand around shivering for over half an hour after the first athlete took off at 8:30am. I ran into a fellow accountant and Vanderkitten VIP while I waited - she'd arrived early for the Give-it-a-Tri event starting at 10:30am, in which she'd be doing her first-ever 3-sport race after spending 18 months learning to swim.

Kittens before the races

The athletes ahead took off one-by one, and I finally got back down into the water. It was warmer than the air (and certainly warmer than the cold wind!), but I still made sure to give my face a good dunk a minute before my turn came to set off. I hoped this would go better than my unreasonably slow swim at Woodstock last month - I'd finally managed to get my catch working again the week before (after having lost it due to the 10 days I spent out of swim training commission near the beginning of May), but I wasn't really feeling 100% back to form yet.

Nonetheless, I took my sendoff from MultiSport Canada series technical director Jason Vurma, and started stroking away. There were only 4 athletes due to enter the water behind me, so odds were I wouldn't have anyone swimming overtop of me - the time trial start gives everyone lots of clear water.

The time trail start - 5 seconds apart.
Photo credit to Cathy

I basically focused on trying to keep my elbows high and just gave'er. No navigation issues - I came up on a few people as I approached the first turn buoy, but no problems getting around them. Made the second buoy, and came down so bang on top of it that I actually whacked it with my hand during my recovery stroke. I was feeling like I was swimming decently, but then again I felt I'd swam well at Woodstock, so I'd just have to wait and see. I'd told Tank initially that with bib # 415 and the start being in bib number order, I'd be delayed about 7mins from the actual horn. I am, however, an idiot - that would've been true if we'd gone off 1 second apart, but at 5s apart it would take 34.5mins. I hoped he wasn't worrying about me.

Rubbery leviathan emerging from the deeps

I almost swam overtop of a lady as I made my way to the final turn, but apologized as best I could. Again, bang on top of the big green buoy (which let me avoid a fair-sized group of swimmers taking the turn wide), and just 85m left to the exit. My arms were fatiguing a bit but I gave it all I had since I knew I'd get a rest after the run up to T1. Reaching the exit at last, the volunteers were all occupied with other people as I stood up, so I didn't get my usual helping hand. I did ok, though, and got moving toward the timing mat. It turned out later I actually came out of the water with 29 people behind me, so I guess I managed to pass quite a few!

Holy crap - I don't look like a total mess!

750m swim: 15:20 @ 2:03/100m

8/12 relay teams

Ah, ok - there's the derpyness.

I ran my freakin' arse off on the way to T1 - it's a long slog, but I passed a number of people since I didn't have to worry about getting my wetsuit off.

425m run-up: 1:36

Into transition puffing and blowing, I got Tanker to hold out his left leg so I could whip the timing chip strap off my ankle and onto his (nearly falling over in the process - well done, K), then sent him off with a kiss and attempted to get my breath back.

T1: 00:55

Off he goes to kill it!

The wind was still quite nasty and the cloud cover persisted, though some sunny gaps had finally started to open just before I got in the water.

Clouds over transition as I wait for my honey to finish kicking ass

A moment to breathe.

I did my best to get myself dried off with a towel I'd left in transition, but still had to put my hoodie on to try to keep warm - it still hadn't made it over about 17c/63f yet, and being wet with no way to get out of the wind had me shivering! I did put some sunblock on, though, and finally did my bodymarking; I'd figured there wasn't much point in doing it before the swim, only to have it smeared by my wetsuit.

I also made a small addition.

I did some dynamic stretching plus some high knees and butt kicks, partly to try to keep myself loose and partly to stave off hypothermia. I also drank a bottle of eLoad sport drink to keep myself hydrated and get a few calories into me, but not too many. I was rather amused by one of the other relay teams needing to be informed that the bike had to be racked again before the chip could be handed off to the runner - does noone read the website or listen to the pre-race announcements? Then, just over an hour after I sent him off, Tanker came hammering back into transition!

And he brought the sunshine with him!

Flying!

28.8km bike: 1:03:15 @ 27.3kph

6/12 relay teams

So much kickassery.

With just one last thing to do, I grabbed the chip off Tanker's leg (once his bike was racked, of course), slammed it onto my own ankle, gave him a kiss that he described as "being more like a headbutt with your lips", then sped off at a totally untenable pace out of transition.

T2: 00:50

Artist's conception

See ya!

I started my watch as I crossed the timing mat on the way out through the run exit and figured I'd get some splits. I knew I had taken off way too quickly, but wasn't sure how bad it was or if I was going to blow myself up. The Welland sprint run course is a bit of a bother as there as 2 turn-around points and endless corners, but all I could do is keep my legs moving and see. I passed the queue of Give-it-a-Tri athletes waiting for their swim start and screamed something like "HAVE A GREAT RACE CATHY!" as I went by. I sincerely doubt she heard me, but the effort was there.

Saying hi to Larry, who took 2nd O/A in the duathlon.

As I passed onto the bridge toward the first out-and-back, I noted the 7k marker right at the final turn to the finish line. Ok, all I had to do was make it there and I could try to kick. I ripped up toward the first turn-around on the pathway, passing some people as I went, then hit my lap button as I passed the 2k mark. Split time: 10:22.

Um, I'm running at my open 5k pace.

This is not sustainable.

Urgh.

Back along the West side of the recreational canal on the pathway, my left hamstring started to complain about ill treatment. WHAT A WHINER! There was nothing I could do about it, so I just had to hope that it wouldn't get any worse. The second portion of the course does have some tiny little lumps to it, and the hammy didn't like inclines, but it held together. I whipped across the canal again with a tailwind, hitting the 4k mark in 21:17 - the second 2km split was a much more realistic 10:55, at a pace of 5:27/km.

Realistic, but still not sustainable.

From 4-5k I may have been distracted watching Give-it-a-Tri cyclists heading out on the bike, and by the rowers out on the canal. I also really, really wanted to be finished because I'd been death whistling since kilometer 1 and was starting to think I'd blown myself up and would have to walk. I made the turn-around, then hit the 5k mark at 26:56 - I'd slowed down to a 5:39/km pace and my disintegration showed no signs of relenting. At least I was now headed directly for the finish line, though there were still 4 turns to go.

Hurt. Freakin'. Bagged.

My worst kilometer was from 5-6k, taking me 5:49 as I struggled with the headwind on the bridge back to the West side of the canal and all the 90-degree turns. The 2k split from 4-6km was a pathetic 11:28 at 5:44/km. I might well have benefited from a sip of water or sport drink, but I didn't want to slow myself down any more than I already had. Fortunately, while the sun was out in full force, it stayed relatively cool out on the recreational trail, so I was still passing some people - if it had heated up, I'd have been in much worse shape. As it was, my hamstring was very grumpy about all of these corners.

I finally made the final turn at the 7k mark, and it was mostly a false-flat downhill to the finish, so I tried to pick up the pace as best I could. I'd come through the last full kilometer in 5:34 for a 7km total time of 38:19, and was hoping I could push and bring it in to finish under 41mins. I made the last half-kilometer in a rather astonishing 2:30, just barely making that goal.

Done at last!

7.5km run: 40:49 @ 5:27/km

5/12 relay teams

Official time: 2:02:42 - 7/12 relay teams

(Full results here)

Post-race group shot!

We met up with Cathy and Amy after their race was finished, and found out later that they both won their age groups - great job ladies!

For the perfect addition to a fun morning of racing, we then drove down to Niagara Falls and did some super-leisurely cycling along the Niagara Parkway. A bike is the perfect way to get around that world-famous tourist destination: just park the car and roll around, stopping or diverting anywhere you like to check out the sights. We cycled across the King's Bridge, through some of the Dufferin Island trails, hit a gluten-free bakery in Chippewa, and had a really wonderful time. A really good steak and a campfire later, we were both ready for bed after a truly transporting day spent in the best of company.

Thank you for an incredible day sweetheart - I'm so happy we could share this!