White Mountain Classic 30K January 26, 2013

The day of the race rolled around after a week of COLD temperatures. It promised to stay chilly with temperatures reading '0' as I headed into the Mt. Washington Valley. The morning began inauspiciously with a searing headache that seemed to have haunted me off and on through nearly three weeks of being 'sick'. I medicated with a gigantic cup of coffee sipped over the course of my drive to Jackson. I have come to these decision points with racing in particular, where I make the decision to do it despite what I could call legitimate excuses, and then put on blinders and block out any negative thoughts or questions. It was a good way to start this particular day because somewhere in my muddled brain I put the drive at around 1:25 which is about 30 minutes UNDER actual even driving like an insane person down mostly empty roads. My adrenalin fired up as the clock ticked away and I zoomed along. Pulling into Jackson just shy of 9am gave me enough time to get my bib, hit the bathroom, pull on my ski boots and head out. The guys at BNS had already waxed my skis with some mixture of magic powder topped with binder and Universal kick wax which they thought would work. I trust them, so I decided it would work. It had to, because there was no time to go messing with it. Donning my puffy coat, I stripped down to my racing tights, wore the fat lobster mitts and a Smartwool neck warmer and took my insulated bottle of warm Powerbar Perform over to the golf course start area. The announcer was chatting away and people were in various states of preparation. It was cold! But the sun was out and there was no wind which was a definite improvement over other years. I had about 5 minutes to 'test' my skis and felt I was already warm because of the sweat I'd worked up driving there. Warming up seems to be no problem for me; I can be at full tilt in a very short period of time.

The course was a fun one. Start with a loop and a half around the golf course letting everyone sort themselves out a bit, cross the road, then meander through the golf course a bit more and head into the woods for the rather lengthy and steep climb up the Eagle Mountain fields. At the top, one more road crossing and then 3 laps that consisted of some rather vigorous ups and downs on the Wave (serious stuff) and a mega amount of double poling all around the fields finishing with a steep little climb towards the Eagle Mountain House and then down for a repeat.

I lined up in the front third not wanted to repeat the experience of a few weeks back when I raced a 5K skate with the college women on the Wave and I politely slowed down and let so much of the pack in front of me that it necessitated herring bone for nearly 1kilometer. I didn't want to get stuck, but I also didn't want to get run over because the key point here is that I had not been on my classic skis for TWO YEARS, which marked the last time I did this race. That is probably not good training, right? Here's the funny thing, this happens every year. And somehow, I go out and bust my ass and finish somewhere in the top 4-7. Every time. And the thing is, nordic skiers generally SKI a lot. I look at the people around me and they are from Vermont and the mountains of NH and they are coaching skiing or training on snow... But I swim, bike and run with occasional strength thrown in. This year I did actually skate ski four times before the race including one race, so I guess that was an improvement. The gun went off and it was the usual mass mayhem of people double poling, tracks reduce and athletes are left on the edge or jumping into the track in front of someone else. It was a polite start though, patience ruled, so everything went off well. Minus a little side stepping and a few jerky spots it was no time before we crossed the road and headed towards the climb that always hurts more than any other part of the course. I had to hit it with a little 'V' because I was slipping a tiny bit and about half way up the first hill noticed that I was sucking mega wind and I could feel the cold sear of it in my lungs. Ouch. We worked pretty hard up the hills and with great happiness saw the road crossing and at that point I went into my deep breath, relax, time to go mode. The first lap was solid. I worked it hard, the uphills of the Wave were rough and a V run was required in spots. Luckily my pro downhill/cornering skills are quite useful on the technical nature of the loop and also, I'd done the loop three times when I was in Jackson a few weeks back to race. My skis felt really fast and light and so all was well. Passed through the feed station two times before heading back into a second lap. Drinking with big mitts is hard, so I didn't bother yet. Second lap, settle. Seemed all good, climbing, tucking, working. Back into the fields, double pole madness, skipped the drink again and headed back up for the last mega climb. This is where arm fatigue became a factor. My triceps were crying. Every time my ski slipped out behind me I jammed the poles in for traction. It required a re-focus on core, clearing my mind and pulling my hips forward to keep from kicking out the back. On the third lap I was passing slower people who were on their earlier laps and as I side stepped one guy I just caught an edge and fell forward. My arms went out in front and I landed in push-up position and felt my arms scream. I almost couldn't push myself back up. This is somewhat humorous as it is happening... the voice in my head is going on about how stupid that was and how maybe if I trained some I wouldn't be having this problem. Anyway, I did get up and kept going but fatigue was there, no doubt. I did grab a drink the next time through the aid station and it was almost hot and felt so good going down. Addressing nutrition on these longer efforts would make sense. Eating anything while out in the cold and moving forward seems impossible. A friend showed me GU all over her front after the race, apparently she tried to eat it and had minimal luck. Last part of the golf course, there I was double poling as hard as I could. Snaking behind me I could see a few guys, one from Maine who I knew, and I just didn't want them to catch me so I kept at it. The last time up the nasty hill to the Eagle Mountain House required a rather deep dig into my Self, but after that big DOWN, tuck and finally the Lap/Fin sign- always my favorite to turn to the fin side and say good bye. There were still a few K left, but they involved some scary down hills (the ones we had to come up first) and did I snowplow down one of them? Yes I did. A few seconds of that is better than falling. Emerging onto the golf course I put whatever was left in the tank and flew on over to the finish. 1:44:54. The first Maine Nordic finisher, first in my AG and 7th woman overall. The young people win. I think they train too. As always, Nordic skiing rocks. It's all about being super smart and reading the terrain, maximizing glide and technique, breathing deep and just pulling every ounce of muscular power and endurance from your body. That said, I was useless the rest of the day. Sign of good race.

Ironman Mont Tremblant 2012

The inaugural Ironman Mont Tremblant fell on August 19 this year. I signed up last year with the desire to figure out what sort of nutritional changes I could make to be coherent through the last half of the marathon. My training this season was different than in the past. I had less quantity and much more quality. I think I can safely say I did very little fluff along the way. Having done two Ironman races in the past the newbie effect was gone. I knew I could finish it and the key was figuring out how to go faster, and perhaps more importantly, to effectively fuel. Race morning dawned clear and chilly at 47 degrees. My friend Alison and I planned to head to transition at 5am, get marked, stock our bikes and then head back to our rooms for stretching, bathroom, final prep- and then to make our way to the swim start at 6:15am. All of this went well. I loaded my three bike bottles with Powerbar Perform, pumped my tires with a borrowed pump (a little sketchy), got marked and headed back. There is something so simple about the Ironman distance race as everything is already there, packed and organized. At least that is the plan. At 6:15am after I stretched and chomped on a powerbar, we met back in the lobby to walk to the race start. We were in a massive flow of people down the road. It was insane. My adrenalin was starting to pump and I did my weave and duck and we wound our way to the beach, zipped up the suits, and went up to toe the water's edge. Having never done a beach start in an Ironman, I will admit now that I was petrified of what might happen when 2600 people charged into the lake on foot and dropped to horizontal. So that I didn't have to find out, we stayed in the front. The crowd was crazy! The military did a low flyover in an F16 for the start of the Pro wave. It was awesome. And then they did it again for the AG wave and we were off. I swam as fast as I could for about 50 strokes. People were all around me instantly. I found myself on male feet with no way to go around so several times I just chilled out and swam- telling myself that wasting energy to go around would be stupid. This went on nearly the entire way out to the turn buoy of this one lap course. I stayed a little wide on the buoy but it was all fine. Around the back side of the course and then around the next turn and I was on my way home. I felt rested and pumped so I played a little game, started passing people, catching feet, floating for a bit, passing a little more, until the end was in sight. It got very shallow so we had to stand up and run the last section. I was looking at the clock and seeing that I was in the 1:02 range, but the run through the water to the mat took long enough that I was just over 1:03. I was good with it- a PR even with the running in and out of the water. The jog up the chute to the transition area was long- but carpeted. Also crowded with people. The people lining the sides were insane. It was so loud and spectators were going crazy- I couldn't help but to smile and enjoy the run up. Once in the tent there was plenty of room. Volunteers grabbed my bag and actually put my socks on my wet feet and then my shoes. I probably should've done that myself, but I was buckling up my helmet and sticking nutrition in my pockets. Jogged out to my bike rack, couldn't find where it was, the racks near my bike were FULL which indicated that I was one of the early women in my AG out of the water (I was in the largest age group), and I took my bike and headed out onto the course. The course is awesome. It is made up of two out and back stretches which at first sounds a little boring, but not at all. The first section is all highway. An entire lane is closed down, the roads are well paved and wide. I did find that for much of that first section I had to do some coasting because frankly, many people ride like idiots. There were guys passing on my right, guys passing on my left then slowing a lot, guys riding in little packs... I saw a lot of motorcycles but not any violations being handed out. It was great when the first big hill came up on the return trip. It is very long and significant. That broke up the packs and I was finally able to start riding my own race. Could I have ridden this first 40 miles faster? Probably. But it would've been a lot of pounding pedals to escape reckless riders. I knew just about all of these guys were going to drop soon. There was one woman too, in pink compression calf sleeves who kept on passing me and had the worst pedal stroke. It was annoying, but I let her go a few times too and once we hit the big hills, I never saw her again. Anyway, after the highway you get this cute little excursion into a town which has a quaint main street you cycle down, then up this rather painful little hill, around a little lollipop and back through town. Apparently this was added because the town wanted the race to come through. It's a diversion and helps break up the 112 miles, so it's ok. After that you're on the hilly trip back toward the start. Of course you have to turn off and head out to the most difficult part of the course an out and back with some very serious climbs. As a person who loves to climb, I thought it was great but admittedly I was also loving my granny cassette that I put on for the race. I rode it all comfortably, nearly all in the saddle and enjoyed some free speed on the downhills. It's a bit like a rollercoaster so if you enjoy up and down over flat, it's the perfect course. And then....you do it all again! Second time was great for me. I had the course just about to myself and rode exactly as I pleased and enjoyed lots of peace and quiet and eating and drinking. And the nutrition piece. I had set my Garmin alerts to remind me when to eat. And now I admit my biggest error. I set the alert wrong. It was going off to often. Suffice it to say I'd eaten everything minus one gel by 80 miles. I wasn't worried, I had extra in my pockets, but I was ill. My stomach felt disgusting and full. I had to back off for awhile which was also fine, but I did back off on my fluid intake which was actually essential as I was counting on my sodium from that source. I probably came up about 48oz short in the end. I was sort of laughing at myself out there once I figured out what had happened. The key for me was that my head was clear, my energy was solid, I was just a little, um, fat. Still, rode it all well until near the final turnaround when after a day of very 'gentle' shifting (my chain had been falling off the outside occasionally) my chain dropped off the outside!! I was rather irritated but hopped off, got all greasy and put the sucker back on and headed off again. That was my only mechanical issue. Probably about 1 minute worth of time lost. The ride back on that last stretch is absolutely fun plus you get to crank past all those athletes just riding up the big hills and feel smug and accomplished. I zipped into transition, volunteers grabbed my bike, I left my shoes on the pedals and started to 'jog' to the tent. My legs felt horrid. I'd been dealing with a significant hamstring problem so I was worried, but this felt more like hip flexors and tight hips with just a little bit of hamstring play right off the bike. I hobble jogged into the tent, popped on the running shoes I should not have worn (too new), grabbed a banana and set off. Quick pitstop, ate the banana and tried to ease the legs into the run. The first miles have hill- and I was hitting around 8:45 which was about a minute slower per mile than I'd hoped, but I just had to let the legs do what they could do. Very soon I noticed my head felt a tiny bit light so I popped some clif blocks. My fingers were tingling. This made me nervous. I pulled salt from my pocket and popped two at the first water stop. I drank at every stop- powerbar perform until around mile 20 when I added in Coke. I really drank some too. I felt better throughout the run, but my legs were definitely NOT planning on doing anything other than a rather pathetic plod along. At some points I focussed on picking up my knees and that helped but the hamstring was a little rough and that whole side was landing on the ground at a funny angle and I knew blisters were forming on those toes. Anyway, the key for me on the run was just to keep running and drinking and eating so I did. I had a plan to eat my shots every two miles and I did. The tingling in my fingers abated a bit and then would come back but it never got out of control and I kept my head clear the whole time. Going uphill was slow going, but again, kept up the run. So, I ran a 3:54 which in the end is a PR for me on the IM course and I am kind of amazed. The run course is forgiving in that you run about half of it on an old railway bed that is made up of some sort of hardpack gravel. Perfect surface and flat. Aid stations were stocked, volunteers in droves and plenty of stuff to go around. Because it is out and back twice you see people the whole time. I saw the pros go by. On my second lap many people were starting their first lap. That doesn't always work in my favor because they are often going slower so I have to keep on myself not to slow down too. The very end of the run is up a hill and then down a cobblestone path through town and it was totally cool and people were yelling like crazy making everyone feel like rockstars and I threw my hands in the air, saw my time of 10:39 and thought how the hell did I do that? A PR of over 30 minutes without ever digging deep into a pain cave and with actually ENJOYING the day. Two volunteers took me out of the finish area, I was a tiny bit wobbly and they handed me off to a young medic who was over the top kind and did not leave my side until she was totally sure I was OK, which I was, so I headed out to find my crew. The only downside to the day was my gut but this is nothing new for me. I can't eat for a long time after events like this. I'm always curious how people are sitting around eating pizza right after they race. I went back to my hotel, showered, started taking in water and put my feet up for a bit. A couple hours later I was better and went out to have a small amount of food, still not really hungry, and watch the midnight finishers. Totally rocking down there, we had a great time. Slept well that night, woke up the next morning and started eating non-stop for about 12 hours- raw and grilled vegetables, sushi, potato chips... weird things I was craving which I tend to just go with. And then the drive home. In summary: Do this race! Amazing in every way...town, volunteers, party, location, course... The only thing that sucked was the dinner/meeting on Friday which I'd never do again as it took hours and hours and had to be in French and English and the food was minimal and poor and by the time they got to the info part, we were all zoned out. So, skip the dinner unless you've never been to an IM and you want to watch the same promo videos they show at every one. Two cool things at the meeting- the drummers- sweet! and this guy who did the 'original' Ironman in his cut-off denim shorts 34 years ago. And he raced on Sunday- 16 hours! He was great. I finished 3rd in my AG- only 2 minutes behind second (yes, easily could've made that up on bike) and 10 minutes off first. More than met my expectations. And perhaps most importantly, I really enjoyed the day.