Wildness

Wildflower is just wild. It's more than the flowers. Or that you're in the middle of nowhere. Or that there are 15,000 crazy nutcases, just like yourself, camping in club tent cities. Or that it's one heck of a wild race.

I was looking forward to a good aggressive race at Wildflower. Then I got sick. Then "allergies" took over. Knew I've had some sinus issues, especially when it comes to swimming.. but this??!? Four weeks later, I'm still coughing, sinus are still not in control. It's gotten better, but just not fast enough. A little over 2 weeks before the race I was out at the velodrome trying to get in a workout and I couldn't. I simply couldn't breath. I went home and sulked for while. All workouts between that moment & a few days before we left for Wildflower I did all workouts to keep my heart rate low. Swimming felt ok. Cycling was easy, just push a bigger gear. Running, well a little challenging to get a decent workout in when you can't get your HR up to get a workout. Finally the weekend before I go for a "hard" run with coach Peter where my respiratory condition was still evident. My advice from the coach, "you're going to have to race smart, because you don't have the condition to race hard."

My expectations coming into Wildflower were neutral. I wasn't sure what to expect. Perhaps the swim would be fine, haven't had too much of an issue being back in the pool the last couple of weeks. The bike would probably be decent. All the big gear work would surely carry over in strength. The run I was dreading. It's a hard run. Progressively uphill for the first 5 miles and straight downhill for the last mile. Ain't pretty. Luckily I was doing the Olympic (qualifying for Nationals). Long course was even worse.

There are always large age groups at Wildflower. There are also no "Elite" divisions, so elite racers race with age groupers which makes it as hard as any national level race. I don't know how many started, but in my age group 30-34... there were results for 231! Yikes. That's a lot of peeps. Two football field length racks of bikes for 1 age group. We were sent off in 2 waves, I got the first wave. As we were waiting in the last few minutes I hear the announcer call my name as a returning competitor. Last year I managed top 10. I wanted to better my result but could I do it? Last year I had a great swim here, a PR. I thought to myself, "this lake likes me".

The horn sounds and splish spash in we go. First 100 meters, feeling good. I round the first buoy and am nicely position on some one's feet. Drafting is the key. Another 100 meters and then a strange sensation envelopes my chest. I can't breath. I take a breath but just can't get enough air. I start to panic. This has never happened before. My sinuses are burning and my chest won't take in the air I want. I pop my head out of the water, stop swimming and gasp for air. "My race is over? No, get it together" I think. "Calm down, you're fine. Just start swimming again and stay relaxed" I tell myself. I start again. The feet I was following are long gone. Relax, nice calm breaths every stroke, get your rhythm back. Then it happens again. I can't breath! I stop again, yank on my wetsuit in the back (which is a strange place to be yanking, usually if you can't breath, you pull on the front). Now panic has turned into frustration. F&*%^!!!!! "What's wrong with me??!?". I calm down and start swimming. Yet again, a third time I have to stop and get air. All this before the second buoy. Now I'm pissed. Usually being pissed is a good thing for me and allows me to push harder. In this case, it was a bad thing. Pushing harder was tapping my lack of lungs. I calm down, start again and just try to keep my head in the game. "Just finish the swim". By the time I got out of the water my heart rate was pushing 190 and I'm 6 minutes down from last year. I exit the water in 87th place. Chances of making the top 10 are over. This sucks.

In transition I try to recover a bit. Once on the bike it's straight uphill for a mile so there is no recovery. My sinuses are burning (like you have to sneeze, but can't) and my HR is not recovering very quickly. Screw it, get on the bike and just go. I head out and start climbing. My heart rate is ~195 for the mile climb but I'm passing girls. A lot of girls.

Half way through the bike and I'm still cranking. There are 6-7 hills on the course and easily make it one of the hardest Olympic bike courses. One woman from a different age group passes me. I let her go. She's not important. I hit the hills and grind in my big chain ring. Save the cardio I don't have. I'm flying. I pass a lot of age groupers. I see coach Peter & his wife Neily as I make the turn back into the campground. That lifts my spirit. "You're going to have to race smart" I remember Peter saying. I let up off the gas. I need to recover before the run otherwise I'll be in big doo doo, especially since I wasn't considering the swim to be a problem and it was. Next was the run, and I was already expecting problems as I haven't been able to run hard in nearly a month. I cruise the last couple of miles into T2 and get a big spirit booster. I just took 10 minutes off my bike split from last year and finish with the 6th fastest bike split in the entire age group. Not bad for 40K.

In T2, I refuel, collect myself, wave at JT (owner of Moment Cycle Sport) and set out on the difficult run. Last year I did this run in just under 50 minutes. Normally that would be a horrid 10K split. At Wildflower... that's not to bad considering the fastest women will run it in 42-43 min (instead of 38 minutes for a flat 10K). I take longer strides than I normally would. I need to run smart. I get doused with water at every water station. I pass more girls in my age group. At mile 4 my heart rate is back up to 190+ and the road is getting steeper. I see Devin Riley from TCSD and he gives me a cheer and a few words of wisdom, "don't loose your form, stay focused, now's not the time to get sloppy, drive through!!!" He was right, dig. I somehow pick up the pace fueled by the madly cheering spectators and know that at mile 5 it's all downhill. I pass a lot more people, none of whom are in my age group. I finish strong and notice I matched my run time from last year (within a few seconds). I'm happy with that. I have to be. Drowning felt like an option earlier, so to finish strong is a successful finish.

All said and done, I managed to do ok and finished in 10th (or 11th?? they were still screwing with the messed-up timing weeks after the race so not sure what their final positions were). I'm thinking I was channeling a little Mine That Bird for a come back that wasn't expected. It wasn't a win, nor was it a podium. And to be honest, I'm not sure that I could podium here. But I did learn a lesson - even when you're "out", you're still "in", just keep your focus.

Huge congratulations to Lynne Branchflower (Velo Bella racing for Moment Cycle Sport) who not only recently got engaged (to JT), but had 3 solid performances and finished 2 places in front of me in 8th.