Race Report Carnation Time Trial April 6, 2008
The Day After
I haven’t seen the results yet, but there is a strong indication that I was the slowest cyclist in the “race”. I lost count when the 8th girl passed me in the race which is a distance of 12 miles.
I did not want to take the time to write this, as I have half of my book to finish before tonight’s Book Club. As Pres, I am supposed to finish the books.
However, the thoughts running through my head are too interesting to me not to want to write them down to remember.
No I will not be devastated by the confirmation that I was Last. But I haven’t been last in anything in quite a while. In fact, I have been pleasantly surprised and closer to amazed that I’ve done as well as I have in my races the last 5 years. (Through a combination of roll down, lottery and luck I qualified for the USAT Age Group World Championships in June)
I know my approximate time yesterday because I had the chrono set on my watch. I also wore my Garmin 305. Too bad I didn’t change the cadence sensor to my race wheels and couldn’t see my pace or speed either.
I did look at the results list for the first time last night (after the race) from ‘07. Those were sobering and I am glad I didn’t look at them beforehand. One more indicator I will be “last”. Before I started writing this, I looked up my bike times from the Danskin. Same distance. Amazing I was slower yesterday than in any year I raced the triathlon. Even the first two years on my hybrid with fat chunky tires. I do not understand this.
So how I felt yesterday: At first after I read the start list the night before I thought I might make jokes about being the oldest woman in the race. I still like to think of myself as the “oldest girl”. Humor tempers my nerves. Then I realized how many women in their 50s were racing, so really age wasn’t an issue, nor is it very interesting these days. None of us in our 50s likes to think that we are “old” and we mean it when we say we don’t feel our age.
I stripped the bike down the night before, took off my winter fenders, bottle holders, tool bag, and accessory bag. I was not nervous. Except for the predictable pre race tummy ache that had me leave the house a full 30 minutes later than I had planned. I had nothing to prove. I was looking forward to a new event. I just went out to see what my best time could be without a swim before or a run afterwards.
I arrived in time to do about a 5 minute warmup. All the JFT2s were already there and spinning away. Mmmm maybe next time: Longer warmup!!! Then feeling pressed for time at ten minutes before my start, took the bike out to the road to try all the gears. I felt eerily calm. No adrenaline. The woman in front of me missed her call, so jumped in ahead of me and only gave me 15 seconds to get ready at the start line. My feet did not get clipped into the pedals to start.
That is the one and only excuse I will have for a poor time! My legs were shaved and ponytail was tucked in.
I went as fast as I knew how to go. Within seconds I was passed. I thought perhaps I can keep her in my sight and use her as my rabbit. Just then, another racer passed me. The next racer I recognized and yelled GO< MELISSA! as she sped by me. I kept changing my gears, lots of changing of the gears, not certain how I could go faster. Not certain why I was going so slowly.
I focused on technique. What I’ve been practicing: No rocking. Keeping wheel from wiggling. Straight line. Scraping the shit off my shoe. Throwing my knees over the handlebars. Light fingers. Staying aero. Heels down. Toes horizontal. Shoulders down. Knees in. Look ahead. Bum back. Or is it forward?
My heart rate was high 150s the entire first 7 miles. (Zone 4 for me).I tried to get it higher. Climbed out of my seat to go over the little lift at the Fall City bridge! I knew I wasn’t going very fast and looked at the Garmin at 7 miles and thought only 5 more miles. If I speed up it will be over sooner. I went all out. Really all out. Just then Jill flew by and I yelled YOU GO JILL!
Now I began considering that my brake was rubbing on my wheel. I have read that in some triathlete’s blogs. I thought my heart rate would have been higher, but I was looking forward to confirming this at the end of the race and blaming my slow speed on a mechanical issue.
Later I found out that none of the JFT2 girls who passed me had heard me. I won’t be cheering my team anymore, not because I don’t want them to do well, but it is just a big waste of breath.
The country roads in Carnation are just beautiful and we got lucky that there was not even a drizzle; just soggy wet pavement from the previous rainy night. The next girl that passed me must have been a guy. Then the next lady was hardly pedaling. So that gave me the idea to go into a bigger gear, and I tried grinding it out the last 3 miles or so. I did get my heart rate up finally to 164. And at the very end, I think it was about 168. I will know this more accurately when I learn how to download the data from my Garmin. I promised to do this for Jill.(On my list of goals for the week, but this has been on my list for about the last 8).
After the event I ran into Leslie with whom I swim. We laughed about the Fat Salmon 3 miler we did together last summer, (she gulped so much water she got a full blown Giardia infection so it wasn’t really all that funny) and then she mentioned how somebody passed her in the first 3 minutes of this race. When I said something like 8 passed me, she didn’t really say much more. I think she was too shocked. My new JFT2 friends met for pizza and sort of debriefed a little; but not enough for me to find out what they were doing that I was not. Most of them said that they thought they had had a good race. I knew they meant they had given it their all.
Some thoughts about how I felt physically: No I was not puking, nor was I drooling. I did not even get that obnoxious gasping of huffing and puffing I do when I am climbing up hill as fast as I can or running as fast as I can. And I wanted to. I just couldn’t transfer my breath or strength into my legs/feet. I know that cycling is my “limiter” (a more positive word for “weakness” which I refuse to use) and I have been working on my cycling skills more than ever this winter. Every weekend a longer ride, (in any weather), than I’ve ever gone before with fast riders, strength training, yoga for flexibility and hill repeats religiously once a week. I was not even that out of breath at the finish line (anticlimactic to say the least) nor did I have sore muscles last night like I had been looking forward to. Love that post race after burn glow.
I’ve thought seriously of a new carbon bike. Done my research. Aero helmet. Money can buy speed. I really do want to go faster, or I wouldn’t spend all the time I do reading, training, and racing. (Much of the time I am reading I am thinking I should be training!!) And yes, I read all the training articles that were posted. I am always doin the Big “J”. Knowin it and not doin it ain’t that easy to fix. And I won’t be getting a new bike this year.
So I guess all in all, even before I look at my results, I know will never be a great cyclist. But my question now is: how did I get so dang slow?
I keep thinking of all the positive things I am going to say to myself when I see the times and for sure I can say with sincerity there is a great deal of room for improvement. But I already knew that.
I wish there was another race this weekend, so I could improve!! The competitor in me my wants to compete with me, and beat me!!
Now to switch gears (!) and check the results page……. Or go out and Ride! Oh and there was no brake rubbing my wheel.
