Clearwater 70.3 IM World Champs '07
I sit here on the airplane with a mess of jumbled emotions, struggling to sort them all out. It may take a few days, but putting the race, the weekend and my thoughts down on paper may help the process along.
I arrived in Clearwater, Florida mid-day on Thursday (Nov. 7th), meeting my parents at the Tampa airport, and excited to see that TSA decided to not open my bike box (as they like to throw it all back in there haphazardly, making me nervous about my bike). I did my typical, get to the hotel and immediately build my bike back up to be sure everything ‘worked’, which thankfully it all did. We enjoyed a relaxing evening at the Island Way Grill, which was down near the race site in Clearwater, a slightly upscale seafood restaurant. I had done an easy 30 minute run upon arriving that afternoon, and after a good dinner, I was feeling relaxed and excited about Saturday.
Friday started a bit earlier than I would have preferred (7 am), but I wanted to get in a short, 20-30 minute ride at the race site and a splash in the ocean that morning. We stayed at a Hampton Inn, about 15 minutes from the race site, so as to avoid triathlon-sensory-overload the days leading up to the race. My sister Robin and my 4-year-old nephew William got in on Friday mid-morning, and then I had to attend a pre-race meeting at 2:00 on Friday afternoon. Again, a bit more of a ‘hectic’ pre-race day than I would prefer but I did not feel too over-extended.
This whole season, I have been notably more relaxed going into my races than in the past. This being the 70.3 Ironman World Champs and ultimately my ‘goal race’ of the season, I was experiencing a bit more nerves, but nothing out of control. I was in bed by about 9:00 Friday night and asleep by about 10. However, that 4 am alarm comes so quickly that I rarely sleep soundly and tonight was no different.
Saturday…race day. The morning was ‘typical’, albeit a bit chilly for Florida, probably in the upper 50’s at the race start. Once we got down to Clearwater beach, I set up transition and was just trying to relax. I was pretty cold, so I did a 5 minute easy jog mostly just to warm up. I also opted to bypass the swim warmup, since the 67 degree water would probably leave me pretty cold in my Zoot sleeveless wetsuit (perfect for 67 degree water, but with the cool air temps I didn’t want to stand around and freeze as we had a beach start). So I just stood there and watched everyone else warm up. J While I felt some nerves, I was also feeling fully prepared and confident in my preparations and fitness. I was definitely feeling ready to go.
Go time! The gun sounded (or horn, rather) at 7:00 am SHARP! I took off running and seemed to find my swim groove within 5 minutes or so. I found some clear water (no pun intended), and was right on the heels of 2 girls ahead of me. I remember thinking a few minutes into my race, “Aaahh…THIS is why I do it!”…As I would take a breath, I could see seagulls flying overhead, against a gorgeous blue sky. No better way to spend a Saturday morning! (Except maybe in bed, but I was not thinking this right now…) I took the turn (we did a ‘U’ shaped course, out and back) and head back towards the beach. At this point, I got a bit nervous because I did not see a yellow buoy for at least 5 minute (while they marked our line the whole way out and appeared to on the way back as well). I started to think I had swum off course, or followed some ‘bad feet’, but the sun was directly in line of the sighting buoys and it was very difficult to see clearly. There was not much to do but briefly glance up and KEEP MOVING. That, I did. I ended up swimming a 26-min swim, which was solid however I noticed I came out with some women who I can regularly beat pretty handily…I may have swum off course a bit, but nothing I could think about now, it was behind me and I had a race to focus on.
The good part to thinking I had lost time was, I figured I had better MAKE IT UP! That being said, I went out hard on the bike. I know I have to do this, but I tried to get down on my aerobars of my Orbea Ordu and just hammer. I tried to constantly feel I was pushing the pace, I had my SRM to give me an idea but I try not to focus too much on it. If anything, it helps me keep my power UP. I felt very strong, but about 40-45 miles into the bike, I realized yet again that I had been passed my more women than I would have liked. But, I knew this was going to be a PR bike split (my previous one was a 2:30 at Redman), so my motivation was to make it MY BEST SPLIT period. Focus on myself. I came into transition and dismounted, and finished right at a 2:26, a best by 4 minutes!
I flew off the bike, handed it off to the volunteers (who take your bike for you, how nice is that?) and bolted to my T2 bag, which had my Zoot racing flats, Jack and Adams visor and 3 PowerGels. I took off for the run, hungry to finally be in the hunt for a respectable time.
I checked my watch upon leaving transition and estimated my first few miles, seeing that I was right on a 6-min plus pace. Some were 6-highs, some 6-lows, but this was right where I wanted to be. And to top it off, I was feeling smooth. Stick the pace here and hammer away. After this whole season of racing and training, I was down to only 13 miles. This was nothin’!
All went according to my grand plan for the first half of the run. I made the turnaround point (back in the transition area), 6.5 miles in about 41 minutes. PERFECT! Repeat this and I’ll be right at a 4:22, maybe a 4:23. As I approached the Memorial Causeway, a rather large bridge for the third time, I noticed I started not feeling so good. No worries, I am going uphill…I’ll cruise the down and get back to my groove. Once I finished the bridge, I was steadily approaching mile 9 and definitely not feeling very good. As I made a turn to the 9-mile mark, I thought this was perhaps just a ‘bonk’ and I decided to take my 3rd ‘backup’ gel. By the time I hit mile 10, I knew that this was more than a bonk because I was only feeling worse. The 11-mile mark was the base of the bridge, the 4th and final time we had to climb it. I knew this was getting bad, especially when a woman, probably in her mid-50’s, passed me and said, “Shoes look great!” with a smile. Sweet woman (she too had on the flashy new Zoot race flats), but I was only able to muster a look of death back to her. I apologize to her, but the furthest thing from my mind was my shoes much less how they looked…and I guarantee you, I was not doing them justice in the ‘looks’ department.
I swaggered up that hill the best I could, and I definitely slowed to a near-walk. I told myself, “don’t walk, don’t walk…” as I knew it would be so incredibly tough to get running again. My legs felt like jello, they just did not want to go anymore. I finally hit the top and tried to make up that time I had lost going up, however when it flattened out, I once again felt dizzy and spent. The mile 12 mark could not come soon enough, and from then on all I did was hang on. Every race this year, I have been able to push to the end and many of them, I have been able to finish with a smile and maybe even a pump of the fist. This one, not so much. It was all I could do physically to get to the line, and once I did, I immediately sat down (I will not say ‘collapsed’, but I could not stand any longer).
Post-Race…Well, I don’t need to talk about the events after this. I went to the med tent to simply recover and I was fine, just incredibly taxed, exhausted and drained. Technically there was nothing ‘wrong’ with me, but I think that this was just one of those days where I went for broke and broke came earlier than I would have liked. Immediately, I was upset. I was disappointed because I had my goal time, my ‘break-through’ race sitting right there at my fingertips and I felt I had to watch it slip away just in a few miles. However, things always tend to look different after a few days of thinking. And, all in all…my time was a 4:26 which was a best time by a minute, so all was not lost.
What happened out there? I have no idea…I will try to figure it out, but bottom line is, I put it all on the race course, that I know. My boyfriend Derick has told me all season, “Kelly, you know you can bike your ass off and STILL run well.” Hmm…I have been able to do that all season, but maybe today I realized I could only run well for 6 miles. Maybe this time, I finally pushed THAT HARD on the bike. Do I wish I had saved some? Not really…I still lose a few mintues to the top women on the bike, and I know I am capable of running a 1:22 off of a hard bike. I know I am, but today, in this situation, it just didn’t happen. It does not make me less of a person, and it does not define my limits as an athlete.
I always say, “You learn so much more from the rough days than you do from the good ones.” I will learn as much as I can from this experience, while I had hoped for a Top 10 and had to settle for 16th; that is okay. Things do not always go according to plan. I raced my heart out just as I always do and I can walk away from this race and an entire season knowing that I did everything in my power to be the best I could be this year. I am thankful for all the victories, all the personal best times, and all of the incredibly support I have gotten from sponsors, family and friends. I am also thank my competitors…to see what some of these women did in this race, it may seem out of reach, but it only ups the bar for myself ‘that much’ and tells me where I need to be next year to be a factor. I’ll use their results as a standard for myself. I am lucky to have completed a full season without any minor side-lines or injuries. Yet, I am far from satisfied. Once you are satisfied, you are complacent, and I am so confident that there is more in me. That being said, it is time to relax, recover and enjoy the off-season.
The beauty of sport is that everything is ultimately an internal challenge, a personal battle. On-lookers can see results and make judgments, wonder why, what happened to them…I have learned it is easy to criticize people based on their results, and it is easy to praise them for their victories. We all do it. But the really hard part is, seeing where you know you can go when no one else can. It is seeing your own potential and believing in it so hard that sometimes it hurts. Because you have to believe in the unknown, you have to believe in that which has yet to be accomplished. But it is that trusting in something which may seem ‘out of reach’ which allows you to push your limits. And ultimately, it is the kind of person we become in this process that is what we will always carry with us.