The Comeback Race
I had raced
Iron Girl in 2009 and then entered graduate
school that fall. At the time, I had completed several triathlons and half
marathons, and although obtaining a graduate degree was a goal I’d had for 20
years, I felt conflicted at the thought of giving up multisport. A year later,
I took a new job that was faster paced, that required longer hours and a longer
commute both to school and home, which also slowed down the completion of my
degree. It became increasingly difficult to maintain any kind of base in any
sport, and I stopped and started running numerous times only to become caught
up in a time vortex.
I graduated in December 2013, right around the time of Iron
Girl registration, which typically sells out in a day or two. Reclaiming this
part of my life was a big goal of mine and the temptation to register was
overwhelming.
Getting back into shape was a slow process. Prior to
graduation, I had a busy fall with work and school and was tired on many
levels. It didn’t surprise me when I came down with the flu from hell which
took a month out of my training and wiped out any small base I may have had. Around the end of
February, my running log read, “Long road back day 1…” for a workout of less
than a half-hour. I built from there, very gradually to avoid any injury.
The Great Allegheny Passage bike trip was also on my post-grad
school bucket list, and although I’d been cycling, I was under-prepared for the
30 mile uphill climb at a 2 percent grade up to the continental divide, using a
rented bike loaded with panniers. The first day I acquired an overuse injury or
perhaps aggravated a long-ago sports injury.
Recovering from the knee injury took a bit of time, and then
I reinjured the knee during a big brick on the race course two weeks prior to
the race. I embarked on the weirdest taper yet. I used a combination of Advil
and rest for a week, then did a swim, bike and run workout in four days
followed by another three days of rest before race day.
I had a major pre-race case of nerves. I totally freaked out
on the run workout when I still felt the ache in my knee come and go and
wondered if I should even race. The major effects of the injury seemed diminished,
and it wasn’t a race ending injury. I was a little bit undecided up until the
point that I racked my bike the night before, which was the point of no return.
I knew that no race is ever a given, particularly at this point in my life so I
decided to go for it.
The race itself almost didn’t happen. Shortly after
registration, the company that put on the event went bankrupt. Fortunately,
another local organization acquired Iron Girl and another triathlon with a deep
local history, and the organization put on other events that had been planned.
Race Day Recap
In the intervening years, I had upgraded my bike and all
cycling equipment. I dug out and gathered up the rest of my old equipment. One
thing that changed was that I decided to take minimalist approach to transition.
I got a small, light inexpensive cloth sack with strings and took only the
equipment that I needed to avoid having to carrying a heavier load in a tired
state.
I bought a tri top at an end-of-summer sale, planning to do
a tri, although I never did until now, so I fortuitously had a great looking
top to wear. This was truly awesome – how often do we have a great new top to
wear without the trauma of trying to find the perfect wardrobe piece?!
The awkward juxtaposition was that I was a seasoned athlete
with the benefit of experience – and a newbie. I made some
really rookie mistakes. The first was forgetting my goggles. I should have made
a packing list, just as I had done before for races and still do for all
professional conferences. I failed to think about how gravelly the paved path
was from transition to the swim start – many other athletes wore cheap flip
flops and left them at the start. I had a hard time walking and my feet got
scratched up.
However, I also had the genius to make a swim wave cheat
sheet. The race organizers used swim waves as in the past, but within each wave
used a time trial start, letting people in the water two at a time. The
organizers anticipated 6-8 minutes per wave, which would have meant that I
would not get in the water until over an hour after the start. I am deaf and
use a cochlear implant, which cannot be worn in the water, so I wasn’t able to
hear the announcements. I planned to use the time to make a last-minute trip to
the bathroom.
The cheat sheet provided visual information about the progress of
swim waves, and even those with typical hearing borrowed it for their review!
In the end, the waves went faster than anticipated and I was in the water 45
minutes after the start.
I was embarrassed to tell the bodymarkers to write the
number 50. As I gathered with others in my age group, perhaps one of the most
psychologically important parts of this race was to see other athletes my own
age.
I lacked any recent open water practice, and I made the
rookie mistake of panicking after getting into the water and choking a bit on
some inhaled water. I tried to calm down and relax. Swimming is normally my
easiest sport and I tend to think of the swim portion of the race as a “refreshing
warm-up,” before the more challenging parts begin. However, the goggles leaked
and it was primarily a breast stroke day for me, and although I did get sort of
a freestyle stroke going at times, I never completely got into my groove as I’d
wanted.
I made conscious decisions about how I was going to conserve
energy on the course. The big brick that I’d done involved a narrated group
ride with strategies for navigating the course and I picked up some good tips.
Among them were to go easy the first few miles. “You’ll see people racing those
first few miles and they will blow up on the hills at the end of the course.”
So true! I heard a steady stream of “on your left” in the first miles, but then
passed people that were younger than I as I climbed the bigger hills at the
end.
I was seriously worried about having enough endurance to be
able to run at all. In the end, I getting sore at this time and ran slowly, walking
a major portion including all of the major hills on the run course.
The race involved a mixture of emotions. I was happy to
finish because completing this race was something I’d very much wanted, and I
even had a sense of disbelief that I’d actually finished. I was also sad
because it is the slowest triathlon I’ve done, although I know that I’m
about a year away from actually racing and I know I gave a good effort.
Where Do I Go From
Here?
This is the question that sums up my entire post-grad life,
with sports and way beyond. My immediate goal is to deal with the knee injury
so that it is no longer an issue. I did do a basic bike fit, which resulted in
some general adjustments. I may do a fundraiser bike ride, but my other goal is
simply to continue to build my base this fall, particularly my running base.
After that, I don’t know—we’ll see where it goes!
Sometimes injuries lead us to new things. Several years ago, I trained for my first-half marathon, but an injury prevented me from even reaching the starting line. It was a heartbreaking way to end an attempt at a first half marathon. I tried cross training, adding cycling and swimming to my routine and came back to the starting line of the half-marathon a year later as a stronger athlete. Of course, we all know what the combination of swimming, cycling and running leads to: a new passion for triathlon!