Does that make 2 out of 9 lives?

The weather rollercoaster continues, which allowed me to get out for an honest-to-gawd outdoor ride on Sunday!

On my CX bike, no less!

While it was only a quick 25.5k commute-type ride to a friend's house for brunch, it reminded me of how long it's been since I did anything more than ride a mountain bike around town. Not that there's anything wrong with that (I really enjoy my lunch rides and cycling to the market!), but it felt great to get out on a machine built for roads and stretch my legs out.

Happy happy upon arrival.

Even better, I got some news on Tuesday that made me beam with pride - despite somewhat of a let-down year that saw me falling short on some of my athletic goals, I've been accepted once more as a Vanderkitten VIP for 2015! I'm truly honoured to be a part of this world-wide crew of inspiring, indomitable, supportive and KICK ASS group of women.

Rocking the Ophelia for another year!

I had an amazing time getting to know my fellow VIPs in 2014, revelling in their successes and commiserating with them when challenges just proved too much. I look forward to meeting the freshmen VIPs and seeing what amazing things we will all accomplish in the coming year!

So of course, despite the snow & sub-freezing temperatures, I had to wear some of my VKVIP kit out for the run I did Tuesday night.

Ophelia powered!

Just as in everyday life, my VK pride might not have been immediately apparent as I ran, but it's always there next to my heart. I love being an ambassador for a company that truly dedicates itself to supporting equality and opportunity for women at all levels of sport, and that makes awesome products for female (and male) athletes!

I even drink my morning tea out of a ruthless red VK mug at the office!

Congratulations to all of the new and returning VIPs - with the heart, talent and determination you ladies show I know that together we're going to have a kickass 2015!

Horror Hill 6-hour Ultra - Saturday, October 25th, 2014

I decided to give it a go, injury be damned. Really - how bad could it be?

Step one - get out of bed and apply kinesiology tape. I went with a different achilles/calf strain application that I hoped would protect the injured soleus and also support the gastrocs, which would have to take over and do a lot more work than usual. It seemed logical.

Do you know how hard it is to photograph the back of your own leg?

Bagel, coffee, arrive at race site. It's a gorgeous sunrise and looks like it'll be a perfect day - none of the horrible rain or snow of the last 2 years. Skirt up, say hello to the wonderful people with whom I'll be sharing the trail, get my straw from Ron Gehl (choosing to believe nothing bad can happen if I have it), and hope like hell this works. Tanker asked if I was going to get a warm-up run in, to which I gave an emphatic no: I was trying to save whatever my poor calf might have in it for racing.

I did, however, do a little skirt-stuffed-into-my-pants boogie.

Ok, ready as I'm going to get.

One last portajohn stop with less than 5mins to the start, then head for the back of the bunch and off we go.

Crossing the timing mat to start the day.

I ran down the long hill past the pavilion/aid station, around the pond and start back up the hill to the turn into the woods. This is as far as I thought I'd make it, but the damaged soleus actually seems ok. No pain, no need to alter my stride - I make the turn to the technical drop into the forest with a little grin on my face as my calf apparently came to play.

You got it!

By some odd coincidence, one of the first people I really notice that I'm running behind is a fellow whose shirt back reads "Achilles - Running through disability". I take it as a good sign and press on.

Reaching the bottom of the two really, really steep climbs (the ones that reduce pretty much everyone except some of the 5k runners to a walk), I mentally cross my fingers and start to ascend. Fortunately it goes just fine, and I'm back to running again when I reach the top of the second bit. It's working!

The first big stinkin' hill - it's even steeper than it looks here.
(Photo found on twitter - would credit the source if I could find them!)

Truckin'

As you can see above, fallen leaves thickly coated the trail, so it was tough to be sure of footing as I ran along. I was also stuck at the back of a big conga line of runners - things are always pretty bunched up for the first loop, as there aren't many places to pass and all of the 5k, 10k, and 25k runners (no 3-hour option this year) are still on course. I actually kind of welcomed it, since it ensured I didn't go too hard out of the gate.

Around the big woods section, down the sketchy descent, then out of the forest and onto the gravel road up toward the building. Calf was actually feeling damn near normal - huge win!

The 2.5km loop.

Who farted?

Through the parking lot, then back into the trees again for the smaller woods loop and onto the long descent. I ditched a lot of the conga line, crossed the timing mats and then passed Tanker at the aid station while happily reporting no issues so far. Wahoo!

The runner behind me is clearly at race weight.

I came through a second lap after about 34mins without any pain and then a third around 50mins, so decided to have a swig of EFS Liquid Shot from the flask I'd bought the night before while picking up race kit at Runner's Choice. I'd already made it longer than I had on Tuesday without anything blowing out, and figured if I was going to be in it for the long haul I'd need some calories. I had done some carbo-loading in the couple of days before the race and really hoped I could make it through at least 90mins so it wouldn't have been in vain! The day warmed up and I had to pull off my earband and roll up my sleeves to dump some heat as I rolled along.

From the official photos

Tanker took this one - thanks for making me look strong, babe!

I started to tick off minor milestones along the way: 10km took me past the 1 hour mark, then at 12.5km I had run twice as far as Tuesday's ill-fated workout, with another gulp of EFS Liquid Shot around 1h25m. I treated myself to a peanut butter Gu at 2 hours, then had to hit a portajohn at around 2h15m as I passed the building heading for the 20k mark. While the calf injury wasn't bothering me, I noticed my effort level on the uphills was probably not going to be sustainable for the full 6 hours - I was puffing pretty hard as I ran up the long climb in the woods. Then again, I figured there was about a 0.0% chance I'd be able to run the whole thing, so maybe it wouldn't be a big deal. I kept up the calories, though, with more EFS Liquid Shot around 2h35m after passing 22.5km. I had also rolled both of my ankles a few times on roots and rocks hidden under the leaves. I'm sure that wasn't helping anything.

Running with a friendly blog reader - Robin was doing her first Horror Hill

To everyone's surprise, my soleus hung in there through 27.5km (11 loops) and over 3 hours, about which I was overjoyed - at least I'd made it through more than 25k, because that would have been cheaper to enter! However, I'd only got one single run of over 20km/2hrs in since the Waterloo Marathon at the end of April (just under 23k about 3 weeks before race day), and my legs were starting to feel the accumulated fatigue without the training to back it up. I had another swig of EFS Liquid Shot to try to perk me up, but it was about this time that the calf started to get grumpy. 

Ok, we'll do it your way.

I came down the long hill to the pond, and as I ran through the little dip I felt a twinge that made me drop to a walk. A friend whom I've known through this race for years happened to be walking along just ahead of where I slowed, so I quickened my pace a bit to fall in step with him and actually ended up walking the whole rest of that lap as we chatted about backpacking and canoeing and the wonders of exploring the outdoors. I had meant to run the downhill bits, but Chris is good company and I wasn't really feeling any pressure to make distance - for all I knew coming into the race I'd be walking all day anyway, or possibly even heading home after less than 1 full lap, so I was more than happy to just enjoy some conversation while hiking through the forest.

Unfortunately, the weather had turned a bit uglier as a cold front came in. We only got some very light rain showers, but the wind whipped up and I started to get chilled. As I passed the aid station I thanked Chris for a nice chat but said I had to go run to warm myself back up again.

Still doing ok...ish.

Rounding the pond, I ended up dropping to a walk again as I hit the little dip. The calf just didn't want to cooperate, and I didn't want to do any further harm. I was looking at the very real possibility of having to walk for the final 2.5hrs of the race, and wasn't yet sure how I felt about that. I decided I'd just keep testing to see what I could do, and keep walking as long as it didn't hurt to do so.

Dorking it up as I went.

I came through 35k almost right at 4 hours, and whil I only needed 3 more laps in order to make it an actual ultra, though (42.5k being more than a standard 42.2km marathon distance), I was definitely feeling a bit worse for wear. I was still able to run the long downhill through the timing mats down to the pond, plus the gentle downhill portion in the woods, but I was walking almost everything else. I got my chocolate peanut butter Gu (with a bit of caffeine) from Tanker to try to put some zip in my step, but also threw on a light jacket as I wasn't able to run consistently enough to keep myself warm in the bone-chilling wind. 

Still dorking.

Feeling that I'd be unable to do much more than walk for the last hour and a half, I actually ditched my flask of EFS Liquid Shot asked Tanker to get out the chocolate chip cookie I'd brought as a post-race snack. I planned to eat it right around the 5 hour mark as a treat for hanging in, but in the meantime I decided to see if there were any banana chunks at the aid station. I ate about a 2.5" piece and was off to the pond once again.

Little did I know that banana was freakin' magic! Suddenly my calf quieted down and I was able to start running up some mild hills again. I think my gastrocs (which I was forcing to compensate for the damaged soleus by digging the ball of my foot into the ground when climbing) were getting too fatigued to handle the extra load, but the banana helped get them firing again. Things improved even more after I had a salted caramel Gu (best. flavour. EVER.) with elevated electrolytes just past 5 hours - against all odds I was running stuff in the last couple of loops I hadn't run for hours - pace per loop was back to where it had been around the 2hr mark!

Calf after the magic banana.

Completing another lap

I pushed hard through the last full lap plus another partial lap before the horn went, having lost count but thinking I'd at least made it through more than a marathon. The sun came back out, and I ditched my jacket again as I was running consistently enough to need to dump heat. I was super happy to make it past 42.5k so it truly was an "ultramarathon" for the day, though a bit sad at the same time because conditions were perfect and my run fitness has been awesome this summer. Had I not blown the calf I could've PR'd for sure.

Lap times with a few notes

I actually got Tanker to come up to the timing mats just to get a photo of me with the time clock so there would be some evidence that I was still running close to the 6 hour mark!

ill advised racing gang sign and all.

So we go inside and listen to the awards while I get an AMAZING massage and some post-race food (though I never did eat that chocolate chip cookie). Instead of finisher's medals this year, we were given certificates of completion with our final distance. Now, the timing company made a small error and credited everyone with a complete final lap, but I was still surprised to see mine said 47.5km.

Whaa?

It turns out I'd somehow missed a lap in my count, and had actually completed 18 full (45.0km) plus 1.6km of my final lap.

Official distance: 46.6km

0.1km PR (prior best 46.5km in 2011)

4/10 F<40 - 6/13 Women - 22/39 O/A
Official results here

So apparently despite walking that one full lap plus about 2/3 of most laps past the halfway mark, I still managed a 0.1km PR in a race I've now done 5 times.

That's worth a couple of thumbs up.

More awesome things from the race:

There was a volunteer dressed as a zombie marauding around the course for most of the day. He'd hide behind trees and run out at competitors, or hide himself in a pile of fallen leaves and jump out at people. Scared the crap out of a few of us!

Photo lifted from the overall winner's race report

My friend and stud ultrarunner Steven Parke guiding the indomitable Rhonda Marie Avery through the 6 hour race - meet Team Tutu!

They raised $550 for KidsAbility, too!

Why does Rhonda need a guide? Because she's legally blind, and still a more badass ultrarunner than I could ever hope to be! Also the sweetest girl you could ever ask to meet - she's a sports therapist by trade, and generously offered to help out with taping up my calf before the race (on which I'd have taken her up had I not done so before leaving the house), and told me to find her to work on it if it started bothering me while I was running. All sugar with a core of pure iron, that one!

And finally, the fellow I'd seen first thing in the Achilles shirt actually ran his final lap in the storm trooper helmet I'd seen him wearing when we first arrived at the race site.

He beat me by 2km, too!

The best part of all, though? Far from having done any further damage, at 2 days post-race my calf was feeling better than it had at any point since the injury. I took a full 3 days off running and eased back in with an easy 4k on Wednesday and 5k on Thursday, by which point the injury site felt almost completely back to normal. My right (non-injured) calf actually felt tighter than the left! I'm continuing to do knee-wall touches and heel drops - now with both legs instead of just the left - and making sure to warm up my lower legs prior to heading out the door, but I'm confident I have the damage under control and will be well healed in time for the Chocolate Run. A far cry from my expectations when things started to hurt last week!

Post-race glow.

I can only wonder what might have been if I hadn't had to contend with the injury. Fingers crossed for 50k in 2015!

Lakeside Olympic Triathlon - Sunday, September 14th, 2014

I keep telling myself you can't fake your way through a 3-hour race.

Someday I might actually stop trying to do so.

Having taken two out of the five weeks prior to Lakeside completely off training (because neither canoe touring, glamping nor motorcycle touring has much application in triathlon), it's not like I had any right to expect to do well...especially with an extra couple of missed swim sessions after we got back, because all the pools were closed for maintenance (grumble mutter whine kvetch).

As I told Tanker the Wonder Sherpa going in, I'd be happy if I could make it through the bike course without having to get off and walk, and if I could run the entire run course. This all assuming I didn't drown, but at least I'd be able to get up and stagger around the turn buoys in between laps on the swim.

Or freeze to death first.

We were late getting on the road - I shouldn't have hit that snooze button, but who the hell wants to get out of bed to race when it's 5c/41f out? After a cinnamon raisin bagel with some almond butter & honey, a tiny bowl of cereal and hitting up our nation's iconic chain for coffee, Tanker drove like a madman and managed to get us there just 10mins later than I'd originally planned.

Still in wool pants because it's still effin' cold.

Having been hit between the eyes with pre-race nerves and not having actually toed a line in almost 2 months, I tried to be methodical in my prep. Despite my late arrival I was pleased to find an end rack position (so I might actually find my stuff in under 30mins while transitioning), had thoroughly checked the bike the day before, and even managed to rack in a nice easy gear with the correct pedal up. Hell, BodyGlide even found its way onto my neck to prevent wetsuit hickeys (can't we just stay friends?) and my nutrition was actually safely stowed in my bento box, unlike the last time I raced at Lakeside. With my gear all laid out in idiot-proof fashion & my aerobottle full of water, it was almost like I knew what the hell I was doing. You'd think I've been doing this for 6 years or something...

Yep, that about says it all.
(including how difficult it is to draw on the back of your own leg)

Despite the now BALMY 8c/46f air, I managed to persuade myself to remove all warm clothing in order to bodymark and then stuff myself into my rubbery coating, leaving enough time before the start to get in what I'll laughably refer to as a "warm-up".

Yes, I paid for this.

By which I mean I talked to a lovely young lady who recognized me from the blog (thanks for reading!) whose generous compliments were almost certainly the result of advanced hypothermia, then I dove in and half-assedly flailed at the water for about 50m before turning around and paddling back.

"But I was using my whole ass.."

Wave 1 went off, with pros, elite age groupers and men <44 taking to the 18c/64f water like so many fish. I waited with the second wave, adjusting my wetsuit as best I could and hunkering in the water to try to keep myself acclimatized until about 30sec before the horn sounded.

While this gentleman apparently addressed some issues with his junk.

At the signal, I essayed a few dolphin dives to get into deeper water, then started stroking away. As always, my favourite Slowtwitch quote of all time came to mind:

"I swim like a machine!

Like a lawnmower thrown into a lake." 

-Rambler

And I set about proving just that on the way to the first turn buoy. Seriously, I ran into a bunch of traffic and (for the first time this season) actually had some navigation issues. Tanker helpfully calls it my sailor instincts kicking in, as I started tacking back and forth like the upwind leg of a damn boat race. Fortunately I managed to get that sorted out and cobble together something resembling a decent stroke in between the two far buoys, but man was I tired. I though about what I'd have to lose by getting the hell out after the first lap, but the hard coin I paid to enter and my meagre cache of self respect turned out to be dearer to me than just going the hell home.

Noone ever said I was a good decision maker.

Approaching the big yellow banana buoy that funnelled us toward the turn to loop 2 and sorrowing as I watched some of the faster swimmers in wave 3 pass me, I consoled myself with the fact I'd at least be able to stand up and get some real oxygen into myself as I got into the shallow water. As I approached the big green turn buoy that had served as a starting line, though, reality set in: while I could easily get to my feet and wade through the water, I wasn't even touching bottom with my hand as I stroked away. That meant I'd be faster continuing to swim than I would be walking.

Crap. Off I go for loop two, with no rest for the wicked.

Sighting on the first turn buoy again, it was about this time that I finally realized I was feeling awfully fatigued for a 500m loop because it's actually 750m per loop. Well done, K. Very accountantly of you. 

Spoiler: I did eventually make it.

At least I'd managed to get my lats working for me by this point, but my shoulders were already unhappy with all the lousy technique I'd employed in loop 1 and my body was not reacting well to the amount of time I was spending swimming freestyle in my wetsuit in cold water. My lower back complained about the body position forced on it by the buoyancy of the suit's legs (shut up - without that we'll only be out here longer), and I actually started to lose the feeling in my hands & feet. Wheeeee! I did notice the sun seemed to be starting to break through the cloud cover a bit, but couldn't fool myself about just how much colder I'd be once I was in the wind on the bike.

I CAN'T FEEL A THING

Eventually - with much fewer issues than the first loop but a whole bucketload more fatigue - I made it to the swim exit and forced my legs into something resembling a run. 

Whaddya mean I'm not done yet?

1,500m swim: 32:19 @ 2:09/100m

5/6 in W35-39

Unzip and swim cap/goggles removal went ok, and I had plenty of time to get my suit down to my hips as I ran almost to the furthest point of the transition area to reach my bike. Off with the rubbery coating at the rack, then I did this weird "put left bike shoe on, then remember I usually put on my race number belt, sunglasses & helmet first, then put on the right bike shoe" thing that felt really slow but seems to have worked out ok. I actually grabbed my bike correctly from the rack (left hand on saddle) for the first time in I can't remember how long, and set off.

Just gonna take this out for a stroll..

T1: 01:28

1/6 in W35-39

I am the total dork package.

Up to the mount line, puffing away, I had one of the easiest mounts I can remember - just swing my leg over and GO! I hadn't bothered with any additional clothing to try to keep warm - I used to bring that stuff to races, but didn't even pack it this time because I've never been stuffed before to try to don a bunch of gear while I'm all wet and dumb. I'd just have to TRUST THE CHUB.

Smiley face made it through the swim!

It took all of about 30sec for the first of the issues to crop up. I'd had to replace a dead battery in my speed/cadence sensor earlier in the week (discovered it dead on Sunday, while riding the bike for the first time since Belwood), and apparently I'd knocked it a bit such that the cadence sensor wasn't reading. I had time & speed, but no idea how fast my feet were moving with a whole hockey sock full of hills to come. Just as I was sighing about that, I hit a really nasty bump in the road and suddenly I could barely turn pedals! Apparently my rear derailleur jumped down about 5 cogs on me, and did not want to come back up. NOT GOOD.

Just before the madness began.

After a second or two, I figured out that I could keep it in the larger cogs if I held the bar-end lever up in the position I wanted. Better, but still not good - I didn't like the idea of having to manually keep it in place for the whole 40k to come, especially as I knew the pavement wasn't great and I dropped another cog or two even hanging onto it as I hit another rough patch. Fortunately, it seemed to resolve itself - I have to wonder if the cable got caught on something or just bound at the ferrule, and the subsequent jostling broke it loose. All I know is I breathed a serious sigh of relief as I tried to get up to speed and grab a couple of sips of water, while the feeling in my feet faded away in the cold air.

Into the out-and-back section, you ride up and over a hill, then turn around as you start to climb again only to have to pedal up the first hill once more, because race directors are cruel sadists that delight in the suffering of spandex-clad dorks. Back through to hit the course in earnest, my legs actually felt ok as we headed out toward Medina. All of a sudden, though, the road changed colour and a sign confirmed my worst suspicions. "CAUTION: fresh tar and gravel." 

Bloody, bloody chipseal. About 8.5km of it, stretching all the way to the first gravel-strewn turn North, which I took at a pace barely sufficient to keep my bike upright in an effort to prevent my rear wheel from skating out from under me.

Ooh, this was going well.

I had managed to get a gel into me around 4km in, which took an inordinate amount of effort. Y'see, I'd run out of my usual EFS Liquid Shot after Belwood, but had a whole whack of single-serve gel packs around the house. I had stuffed my bento box with 3 packets of Hammer gel (urgh) plus a precious, precious salted caramel Gu (Srsly. Stuff is like crack, only way tastier with less life-destroying side effects. Go buy some, do.) to get me through this business. Only problem is I'd been living in this idyllic world for so many years where taking a shot of gel is as easy as a quick squirt from a flask - trying to tear open a little packet, get it to your face, and then squeeze all the contents into your mouth is WAY more complicated while down in aero! I'm sure it doesn't help that I'm one of those anal retentive types that feels like they need to get every single drop out of the packet, so I roll it up from the bottom like a tube of toothpaste. Doing this while balanced in the aerobar pads was bloody fiddly - like trying to roll an (ahem) cigarette by hand while riding a really twitchy bicycle on rough roads. 

Lesson learned: save the single-serve packets for running, and buy some more EFS Liquid Shot.  

So now I'm headed North and still feeling pretty decent. Of course, the first 15km feel mostly flat and the wind from the Southwest was very light, so not a hindrance. Nonetheless, I kept to the small ring because I know I simply don't have the bike fitness I should for a race of this distance and elevation profile. Speaking of which, had I checked that out before the race, I'd have known those "flats" were actually "downhills" where I could have been hammering in the big ring. Le sigh.

So much wasted speed.

Now heading East across 96, I faffed another gel into my face because I'm not good at doing math while riding. I had it in my brain that a gel every 10km would be one per 30mins, but that's only true if you're riding at 20kph/12.5mph and even I'm not quite that slow. I wasn't looking at the clock on my cycle computer (I was barely looking at it at all, because all it showed me is how much I suck at riding bikes), but at 25kph/15.5mph a 10km interval works out to 24mins between gels. Eeh, that's a little excessive. No wonder I started feeling a bit off, having to control burps that wanted to turn messy, especially since I think that second gel may have been expired or something. There was definitely some chunkiness to it that didn't improve the overall experience.

This is not a good position in which to experience GI distress.

I'm sure it didn't help at all that the pavement through this section was gnarly enough that I wished I was back on the chipseal, especially as the climbs began to appear. The legs were hanging in there pretty well, but I knew there was a really awful one somewhere around Harrington, so I was on the lookout for it. I came up the huge stepped hill around 20k wondering if that was it, but knew I'd had far too easy a time for that to be the one. The shorter, sharper one around 22k left me a bit breathless before the massive descent into town, during which I took a bee to the glasses at almost 50kph/31mph. Fortunately it didn't shatter, or I'd have been blind in one eye - it'd be déja vu from a couple of instances while motorcycle touring a couple of weeks back!

As if this wasn't enough to contend with.

I was also spending this time playing Airborne Caterpillar with 3 other female competitors, trying desperately to stay out of the 5 meter draft zone until I could muster enough zip to come past. Fortunately, some of the downhills afforded me the perfect opportunity - my chubby arse is good for one thing, and that's momentum! I can descend like a madwoman, tucked down into a tiny package zooming past these willowy little things who look like they'd float away on a light breeze. GO GIANT BUTT GO!

So I'm boppin' along with a Dead Kennedys track stuck in my head (no fun in a fluffy chair for me yet!), then finally come through Harrington and commence to try to eat another gel while climbing out of town. Don't ask me how it worked. I probably shouldn't even have eaten it at all, but I was trying to stick with my idiotic and overblown nutrition plan. Yeah, the chick that does Around the Bay on 180cal has now plowed back 300 calories of Hammer gel in an hour. Whatever - keep pedaling!

Somehow making it to Oxford County Road 6, I turned South and finally made the decisive passes on the girls with whom I'd been trading places for almost 15km now. I whizzed past on the downhill, then put in a solid effort on the hill that followed and somehow made it stick. Of course, this meant that I'd pretty well roasted myself by the time I turned back West on Road 92 and was faced with the most horrible rollers of the whole bike course.

Ow.

The hills from 32.5-37.5km are relentless, merciless and leg-wrecking - the perfect mix of long, steady climbs and short, sharp bits to reduce my poor, undertrained self to a gasping, whimpering mess. I tested the limits of my rear derailleur, searching for just one more cog to ease my pain, but had to resort to sitting up on the horns and churning away when none appeared. I unleashed a vicious belch that seemed to come from the depths of my broken, withered soul, leaving my belly feeling better but my legs still roasted. As always, I snarled at the "Happy Hills Resort" signs - I wasn't very bloody happy about them! I'd seriously like to kick whoever put up that sign in one of their softer, squishier areas. Around 36k I managed to finagle the contents of that sweet, delicious salted caramel Gu into my gaping maw, and it may have made more of a difference to my race than simply the calories: my calves had been feeling like they might start to cramp in the cold air and I wondered how they would hold up on the run, but after ingesting the elevated electrolyte content of that particular flavour of gel they seemed to settle down & didn't give me any further trouble. 

All over but the crying now, I made the turn South on 25 to head back to the resort as the sun broke through the heavy, grey clouds. Great - it was going to get all warm and sunny just in time to beat me down on the run! At least I had a neat sighting to lighten my spirits - a tiny little turtle, maybe only 3" from front to back of his wee shell, went scuttling across Sunova Cres. toward the lake right in front of me! I sure hope the little fellow made it to the water without getting run over by a bike, as he was clearly just a baby. I pulled toward the dismount with a smile on my face, then had to face the very real issue of trying to get off this infernal machine with ice blocks for feet.

Um..

No walking on air today - I swung my leg over but came to a full stop before stepping down. I'd rather look like a n00b than meet the pavement at speed and start the run with a bloodied chin!

Safely off

..and running.

40k bike: 1:29:34 @ 26.8kph

4/6 in W35-39

Time to ditch the pointy hat!

Into transition again, and it's anyone's guess how the rest of the race is going to go. I'd been running really well (for me) in training since the astonishing performance at Belwood, but I wasn't sure how badly I'd overcooked my detrained legs in the hills.

Now where'd I leave my shoes..

Wrong order again. Shoes should come off before helmet.

I blundered my way through T2, finding it damn near impossible to stuff my huge frozen lumps of feet into the laceless tri loafers I favour for short course racing. Nearly fell over in the attempt - thank gawd for bike racks! At least I managed to get myself moving in the correct direction at the last second before taking off from the rack, 'cause there's nothing worse than having to turn around when you realise you're trying to run out the wrong exit.

Figured it out!

T2: 01:19

2/6 in W35-39

So I'm death whistling before I even make it out onto the run course proper, and wondering if I'm going to make it through this thing without walking.

If only I could float the whole way..

I jogged along, trying to get settled in but feeling about as coordinated as a newborn water buffalo calf on ice - an illusion which my frozen feet did nothing to dispel. Departing the pavement for the dirt road, it seemed to take forever to reach the 1km mark, which came with an unwelcome surprise. You see, I remembered that there's a nasty hill at the turn-around of the 5k loop, which you have to do twice. I did not, however, remember that there's a smaller but very real hill in the middle as well.

Not cool.

Straight illin'

Up and over, I ran right past the first aid station and headed for the turn-around. It was still on the low side of mild out - the temperature only made it up to 16c/61f that day - but I was starting to feel warm from the sun on my awesome black Vanderkitten trisuit.

Volunteer wonders what's up with the crazy lady in the kitty suit..

I made the left turn toward the evil hill to the turn-around, and did a self check. Bad news: I was already running pretty much at capacity, my death whistle probably annoying the hell out of everyone around me, and I was having zero success at trying to calm things down to save any capacity for dragging my sorry butt up a hill.

I strongly considered walking. Then I said "SCREW THAT" and just ran up the damn thing anyway.

Rounding the pylon, I headed back down and grabbed a cup of water from the 2nd aid station. Nice of them to put it on the downhill this year: it used to be just before the turn-around, which I always thought was an idiotic place for it. Much better now! I tossed a couple of sips in the direction of my face and hoped I wouldn't drown (that's about as good as it gets when I try to drink from a cup while running), then chucked the rest down my back. As the chilly wind hit me I now had some extra incentive to get this thing done - try to finish before I catch pneumonia!

Back I plod, over the idiot hill in the middle, back onto pavement and hit the aid station at the turn-around for a cup of HEED. After my 400cal binge on the bike I'm feeling oddly fine - not a single moment of GI distress on the run - and figure a little sip or two of some good old-fashioned CHO might just get me through to the finish.

Off for another loop.

Seriously feeling the powerful sun and fatigue now, it's back up and over that stupid little hill, hook another left to go up the even bigger hill, and I'm seriously struggling. I consider the very real possibility that I'm going to blow myself up and have to do a walk of shame to the finish. Funny thing is, I'm actually passing quite a number of people now - some stopped to work out cramps (thanks, salted caramel!) and some just plain walking. Despite the growing warmth of the day, it still takes until almost the 7k mark before I fully regain the sensation in my poor, frozen feet. I try to stick to the meagre shade on the side of the big incline to the turn-around, but I can feel the sun beating down on my neck and shoulders as I power myself up to the pylons and make the u-turn through sheer force of will.

Hurt. Bagged.

Just 2.5km left to go, I grab another cup of water and dump all but two sips on my chest to try to cool myself. Past the 8k marker and around the right-hand turn back up Sunova Cres., I've got that wind at my back and can tell myself that I only need to keep this up for 12 more minutes before I can collapse into a crumpled heap. It was a little disappointing to have a lady in my age group come past me with just a kilometer left to go, but I managed to hold off the other 3 girls whom I'd passed on the bike course! It's not like I figured I'd be in contention for a podium finish anyway.

I heart finish chutes!

Making the right turn into the finish zone, I pass a volunteer with a couple of pizza boxes waiting for me to pass so she can cross the run course - got a laugh as I feigned taking them from her yelling "Hey perfect, pizza! Thanks!" then turned my attention back to the matter at hand. I'd hoped to bring this business to a close in under 3 hours, but as the clock came in view I saw that I was already about a minute late for that. Nonetheless, I kicked with all I had left, and indulged in a bit of silliness once I got across the first timing mat.

10k run: 56:51 @ 5:41/km

4/6 in W35-39

WHEEEE!

Official time: 3:01:28.8

5/6 in W35-39 - 19/41 Women - 111/152 Overall

I was utterly spent after the race. My chest/pecs, shoulders, lats, legs, lungs - every single bit of me was completely DONE. 

There's a difference between looking fit and BEING fit.

In truth, it appears that it's possible to fake your way through a 3-hour race, but afterwards you may wish you hadn't. I walked to cool down a bit, but rapidly started to get chilled - damp and exhausted is the best recipe for hypothermia there is, and they'd opened up transition for people to start removing their gear, so I headed for my bag to get into some warm, dry clothes.

Via some inappropriate public nudity, right in front of the ongoing GT12.9 transition area.

While my overall result was pretty meh, I can take some pride in the fact that I stayed hard on the gas pedal for pretty much the entire race. I do think that I could have taken more advantage of the downhills in the first portion of the bike course - probably could have even found myself an extra 90sec to bring it in under 3hrs after all. However, I can take some solace in having set a 1sec run course PR for the Olympic distance (excluding Wasaga last year, where I only rode 9k of the bike leg): I'd run 56:52 on the way to my Olympic distance PR at my first Lakeside in 2011. If I'd biked harder, it might not have happened.

Really, the best part of the day overall was getting to see some wonderful people with whom I don't often get to chat. A fellow Cantabrigian was out smoking that same bike course that gave me so much grief as part of a relay team (great job Brad!), a gent I'd met at the Runner's Den indoor tri back in 2012 had himself a good day doing the full Olympic course (nice to see you again, Gerald!), and I got a handshake at the finish from a fellow Team SmackTalk member who has become an integral part of the awesome MultiSport Canada team (cheers, Adam)!

Even those don't compare to seeing a good friend (and another TST member) keeping his 30 year triathlon streak alive despite a massive health scare just 2 scant months prior to race day. So glad you're still with us, Kent, and even better to see you back out on course!

You'll never be as hardcore as this guy.
NEVER.

It was one hell of a way to wrap up my 2014 triathlon season. I may not have made any podiums this year (Southern Ontario is a really competitive scene, and as the sticker on the fork of my tri bike proudly proclaims I'm only among the upper echelon of mediocrity), but I hope I did my Vanderkitten suit some justice through working hard and never backing down...even when it probably would have been the smarter thing to do.

Fortunately this guy loves me no matter how much I suck.

Next on deck is a not-exactly-super-secret-but-still-kind-of-under-wraps adventure before the traditional season-ending Horror Hill 6-hour. At least I'm done getting in the water at races for the year!