So for the next 4 months I tried to get used to waking up around 5am every day, pushing myself to where I hoped I needed to be. Then taper week came. The workout load was scaled back, I felt confident and plans for race day were being put together. It was at this point when I heard more about the race course…and how unbelievably hard it is.

Emma Long Park boarders the Colorado River (which is freezing cold even in 100+ degree August weather) and is mostly – no, not mostly -it’s all rocky hills. And not the flowy, smooth, pedal up hard and coast down fast type, but the super technical, rocky, stair step ledges that have been known to break bones and bikes. I learned that a portion of the course used to only be open to dirt bikes – motorcycles – because of their superior suspension and power to maneuver the obstacles. It was only four days before the race and I was now not only questioning whether I could still place, but if I had even done enough work to finish in the top half.

Pre-Race Day. Since I had never seen the course before, and especially because of all the crazy stuff I was hearing about it, I decided to pre-ride the course with a group on Saturday, the day before the race. I had expected to take it super easy and just get a good look at everything. I wanted to see all the tough spots and find the easier way down/up them so I wouldn’t have to try and make a split second decision about it during the race.

We started the pre-ride and stopped to wait on someone to fix their pedal. Then we started again and stopped to wait on another group to catch up. Then we started again and had to stop for the pedal again. Then we started again and stopped because of a flat tire. Then we started again and realized that we were on the wrong trail. The we started again and stopped because…. This kept happening. Three hours into a ride that was only supposed to last 2 at the very most, and we had only gone a third of the way through the course. I was pissed. It was 100+ degrees outside and I was burning up energy that I knew I needed for the race and I wasn’t getting a good view of the course. I decided that I had at least seen enough of the course to have an idea of what to expect for the race and quit the pre-ride a third of the way in. I was worried if I spent too much more time out there I’d be exhausted in the morning and my muscles would be tight instead of relaxed.

Race day. I woke up with a better attitude than I had after the pre-ride the day before. I decided that as hard as the course was, we were all going to be riding the same course and I was going to continue with my goal of trying to place in the top 10. I knew that my strongest part of the race would be the run at the end and that my weakest point would be the bike. I’m not a great swimmer, but I’m comfortable in the water and my form is ok. So my strategy was to try and stay up with the lead pack in the swim so that I could try and pace with them on the bike. On the run I would over take anyone that over-exerted themselves on the bike and hold off anyone else that caught up.

The swim started in the normal washing machine fashion with arms and legs slapping and kicking everywhere. I’m not sure but I think I may have crawled over someone and a few people might have crawled over me. By the first 100 meters we were settling into our pace and I was at the tail end of the lead group. The swim was 2 loops at about 1/2 mile each and had this weird section where we had to get out of the water, run up the beach about 25 meters and then get back in for the second lap. At the end of the swim I got out of the water around the back of the lead pack and headed into the transition area.

I left transition on the bike right with a couple of the semi-pro guys and was really encouraged. I felt good. I hadn’t used up too much energy in the swim and I was right where I wanted to be at the start of the bike.

Somewhere along the first mile or two of the bike course my head slammed up against a cedar tree that hung out into the course and I broke my helmet. The inside portion that tightens around my head broke and i couldn’t get it tight. The helmet was rattling around on top of my head and kept trying to slide off backwards. So I stopped. I rushed to try and fix it. The stop cost me 30 or 40 seconds at the most. Then less than 5 minutes later I slammed my head against another tree and it came loose again. Stopped, fixed it and continued on.

By this time I was a few minutes behind the semi-pro guy and a couple of people had caught up to me. One of them was right at my pace so I stayed with him for about the next four miles, until my seat post broke. Crap!! I was beyond frustrated at this point. Two stops already and now another one? Luckily, the seat post hadn’t broken, the top joint just came loose. I had a multi tool in my pack so I fixed it as fast as I could while I watched 3 other people pass me.

Back on the bike, I tried as hard as I could to put everything behind me and refocus. I was getting into the rest of the course that I hadn’t been able to ride the day before. It was every bit as hard as everyone had talked about. I decided I wasn’t taking risks with my energy level (or my bones – I had already heard the sirens of an ambulance coming in for someone else) so instead of powering up all the technical pieces I got off and ran the bike up a bunch of them. Same with some of the decents. As I caught up to a few people in front of me (and as others caught up to me from behind) I noticed most of the others were doing the same thing.

I finished the ride in the time I had estimated and made it into the transition. At this point though, I had no idea where I was with the top ten group. I had passed some people and others had passed me. The transition was quick and I was off running down the side of the river headed to the cliff.

Yes, the cliff. The beginning of the run had a cliff that had to be climbed. Actually climbed – they had a rope and everything. Side note on this – what was the race director thinking? By this point most everyone’s legs are trashed and they expected us to climb up a cliff?? This was very challenging at best, incredibly dangerous at worst. I feel bad for the people who registered for this race to be their first triathlon. Ok, rant over. So I made it up the cliff and the rest of the run wasn’t bad at all. Lots of shade and mostly flat, single track trails for running.

On the run I wanted to keep anyone from catching me and catch anyone I could in front of me. At this point we were pretty spread out and I couldn’t see anyone in front of me. It was in the high 90s outside by now and thankfully there were a bunch of water stations. Someone had even brought their kids to splash us with water as we ran by. That was awesome. Eventually I caught two people and crossed the finish line without anyone catching up to me. I left everything out there and was exhausted. Whatever place I finished in, I gave it my all, executed on my strategy and did the best I could.

After cleaning up my area in the transition I saw the race officials posting the results of the first wave of finishers. As I walked over to find out where I paced among them, I told myself not to be disappointed. I just knew that the the stops I had on the bike course and not being prepared for the technical parts did me in. But I tried to tell myself that I did the best I could and that this race brought out more serious competitors than any other races I had competed in. It was a great day no matter what. I tried to tell myself that.

Much to surprise and extreme happiness I found my name on the list, 6th place in my age group! I got my top 10 finish! My race strategy worked. The hours and miles of preparation paid off. I even finished ahead of some of the semi-pro guys! I did it.

Nice watermark huh?

The day I received them I put them on and was immediately skeptical. I have had no experience with compression socks or other compression gear in the past so I didn’t have anything to base expectations on, but for some reason I thought they would be much tighter than they are. -Don’t get me wrong, they are tight socks and not real easy to get on – but I had imagined something a little different.

The next day I threw them in the washing machine and went out for a long run. After the run (and after a shower), I pulled the socks out of the dryer and put them on. The washing machine and dryer had tightened them up considerably. I could feel my legs were tired after the run so I kept the socks on and after a few hours my legs were as good as new. That tired leg feeling normally would last the better portion of a day. I was very pleasantly surprised.

I’ve used the socks after almost every hard workout since, even had them on when I was flying out of town on a trip (supposedly the higher elevation of a fight makes your legs swell) and I’ve been happy with the results every time.

CEP makes a compression sock that is supposed to be more targeted with tighter areas around the calf and mid-foot and I think I’ll try them out. But as for Zensah, I definitely recommend them.

It sucked.

Sunday I had a great swim workout followed by a short run of 8 miles. The run didn’t get started until it was over 90 degrees outside. I was miserable in the heat and humidity. The whole run I kept thinking, “During the Ironman you’ll be starting the run at the hottest part of the day, in this same type of weather, but after having been already pushing for the last 8 hours. Yikes.

Whelp, tomorrow’s Tuesday and that means speed work is on the schedule with another 5am start time. One day at a time.

In other more exciting news, Katherine said, “Dada!!”