Sunday, April 11, 2010

Finally starting my year!


Triathlon is one of those great sports that leaves you guessing during your race. Where am I? Who's in front of me? Hell, who's actually racing? Am I being hunted? You start, swim, bike, run, finish and have no clue how you did. In that respect, it's rather an uneventful race. Not like a road race where you generally know who the heck just dropped you on your fanny and proceeds to pull away from your wrecked body. Nope... gotta wait. Go back to transition, deck change out of your wet "diapers" as I call the wet, cold, salty encrusted kit that was clung to your sweaty body. Put your bike away, come back, have a beer at the garden, eat a hot dog and then wedge your way back to the results board in hopes that they have listed the tentative results. It's always good news however, when your name is at the top of the list for your division. Even better when your BFF Stacy Dietrich (Velo Bella) placed 2nd right behind you. I actually expected her to run me down, but considering she just had a big, beautiful baby boy November 1st, I'd say she's ahead of schedule. Ladies, if you want to know the true definition of "pump and go"... ask Stacy!

I can say, I didn't expect to defend my win from last year. Mid January I wrecked my left ankle. (Yup, my clip in/out ankle). I sprained it. It was one of those injuries you just close your eyes and know it's not good. It was stupid too. Just not looking where I was going. I never had it x-rayed, but it wouldn't surprise me if a fracture was involved. On crutches & air cast for a month, and another month before I could run a simple 30 minutes. I dare not say easy, even that 30 minutes was hard. Under the watchful eye of
Gino Cinco, my saviour ART physical therapist, my recovery progressed and each week felt better than the last. Turns out your toe flexors stop firing and little things like standing on one leg are frustratingly challenging. Doh! So hi ho, hi ho, it's off to pt I go. Or went...

Needless to say, it ended up being a good day. Stacy & I exited the water together. We grabbed our bikes together. We left transition together. From there, she always had me in sight. Nothing eventful on the bike, outside of the nasty head/cross wind on this straight forward 2 loop, flat bike course. I tried to keep slightly easier gears & higher cadence into the wind, and push the biggest gear possible downwind. That happened to be my 12 since I couldn't shift into my 11. And I was sooo proud of myself, I cleaned my bike, changed cassettes, changed brake pads (for carbon wheels), adjusted my brake cables for the wide Zipp rims, and slowly, and meticulously graced my TT bike with my new 404/808 Zipp wheelset. Next time I should probably make sure I have all my gears too.

Then I got to the run. It hurt. Slower than last year. Nothing to write home about, just good enough to hold off the field. I survived the sand thanks to the extra rain we've gotten this spring (a little extra vegetation over the sand kept most sections a bit more firm than last year). I've only started training again one month ago, and was lucky enough to be invited to train with Sergio Borges with X Training. I've had great experiences with coaches Lesley Paterson & Peter Clode, but this was an invite I couldn't turn down. Sergio is a very hands on coach with 3 coached workouts a week. After my ankle debacle, I needed all the support I could get. And just as promised, Sergio was there on the run course, "just stay focused" he advised. Oh, so true. By mile 4 I had the "puky" feeling. It stayed with me the rest of the run.


So, since you've read all the way to the bottom of my superseal-bellaventure, I must profess, I'm a dork. In my effort to "stay off my feet" the day before the race, I decided to march my not-so-suzy-homemaker rear to the fabric store and buy a yard of plush terry cloth. See, Vela, or "Princess Vela" as I call her, loves her doggie-baths. I think she rolls in the stinkiest crap on purpose. 'Cause after the bath she virtually runs into a towel to be dried off. So, I figured the task of hand sewing velcro on a yard of terry cloth to make her her very own robe would keep me seated for awhile. It did. Along with many many finger pricks. Note to self... not recommended. Stick to cycling. :-)