Yesterday was a bittersweet day. On one hand I was devastated by the events of recent days and have a weight of sadness making me heavy and depressed. Part of me was intent to curl up into a ball on the floor of my hotel room and wait for the attendants to find me weeping, lamenting the loss of my very heart. On the other hand, I had over a year invested in this race, and others have also invested in me, in this race, in the task ahead of me. I chose to pursue a positive perspective and put that voice back in my head. The one that has been cheering me and coaching me for months, the one that loves me. Unconditionally. Together, we punched this race in the face.
There was no swim, due to flooding in the area and the high levels of the Potomac. This made the race much more tangible for me. I realized at four o'clock in the morning that I would be doing the equivalent of four loops of the park, followed by one loop on foot. I can totally do that, I told myself.
Indeed, I could and I did. I began the race in good spirits, ran into the mucky transition area wearing my running shoes and all of my bike gear. Changed shoes, grabbed the bike and ran out of transition. I was greeted by a horrible muddy moat, which squished into my shoes through the hole at the cleat - ew. Got past the blue line and realized that I had (once again!) run with the bike on the wrong side. Mounted as quickly as possible, rode around the turnaround, passed a lot of women who were just starting out, waved to Evan (thanks for coming!) and dropped down to start the 25 mile workout.
The course was very full. It would not be an understatement to say that I passed hundreds of people. I was very grateful for the advice about passing without slowing down. I know that if I hadn't been given that nugget of information, I would have had a much slower time. Instead, I passed unapologetically and stayed fast and smooth. I was in the drops ninety percent of the time, I maintained excellent form, my left leg was pulling as well as pushing and both legs felt fluid and strong. I am grateful for my experience riding in CP, because I am not afraid of other cyclists. I am also unfazed by debris on the ground and my bike handling skills are developed well, so when I climbed the ramp that had "rough road" I was able to navigate it with ease, tossing out a joke to the ladies struggling next to me. We all had a good chuckle as I zoomed past and wished them luck. The only people who passed me were <24-year-olds on tri bikes, mostly men. I didn't have anyone pacing with me for long. A couple of women were nearby for a short time, but I would eventually lose them. I loved zooming through all of the ladies in my AG only to run out of them and start seeing numbers like "35", "38", "42" on calves.
At the halfway turnaround, I knew I had it in the bag. I had been pacing around 21/22mph when I looked down at my watch, my HR was in the high 170s. I kept my cadence relatively high (90s) and powered through, constantly checking my internal systems making sure that I was on target for hydration, nutrition and general well-being. Ate three shot blocks here, powered home.
Transition was tricky. I hopped off of my bike efficiently and began jogging into transition, my rack was on the far left, so instead of running through the crowded middle, I ran along the fence. I got about a quarter of the way into transition and began to get tired running in cleats in the grass after a long ride. The transition area is huge! Ended up running past my rack (whoops!) and having to go back to it, rack backwards, change shoes and grab my hat - off I go!
Back through the mud moat, once I hit the road my legs had already run quite a bit, so the lead was already dripping out of them. Nutrition upon hitting the pavement. My arms were sore. Paced around 9/9:30 for the first five minutes, ran up to the first water station, grabbed a cup to hydrate and then picked up the pace a bit for mile 2. Mile 3 was plagued with cramping. I tried to pace a little slower, hoping it would go away, breathing deeply and focusing on my form. Mile 4 was right after the turnaround and I knew I was going to be okay. I was pacing around 9:00 for each mile and I knew my legs could do it. At mile 5 I started to smile. Keep up the pace. I ran past my parked car and knew how far I had left. Pick up the pace. Mile 6 I knew I was there. I have it! Run!
I was all smiles as I approached the finish line. It couldn't have been a better race. And then it was! The one person that I wanted to see was there, cheering me on to the finish line. I couldn't have asked for more. My heart overflowed and I pushed harder. I hope he is proud. I know I am.
Medal, chip, water, orange, stretch, walk. A sea of people. I am proud of this race. The events leading up to and from it leave me sad and unsettled, but I ran the race with love in my heart and pride in my soul. My expert training and loving support from the most important people in my life are what I keyed into. I look forward to next year.
No comments:
Post a Comment