Race Reports 2015
Race Report: World Duathlon Championships 2015
7:13 AMWell, I did it. I flew halfway around the world to just to compete in a race. I was funded partly through monies that friends, family, and even strangers were generous enough to donate. I bunked with a racer and her family that I knew through college. I rode on unfamiliar bikes on the opposite side of the road. I climbed unfamiliar peaks. I dipped my toes in unfamiliar waters. Then I hopped a plane to stay with family I had never met in another unfamiliar country. I explored more. Bungeed. Rafted. Drank wine, and ate more food than I'd ever care to admit.
I had the most fun I've ever had in a long time. I delighted in every moment of it, and relished in the fact that I was lucky enough to get to ring in my 30s in such a spectacular way.
But most importantly, and this I'm truly most proud of: I raced the race of my life, and I was able to represent the USA while I did it.
A big thank you up front to every single person who supported me either with their words, their actions, or by donating to my cause. Another giant thank you to Madeleine Steele and her family for housing me for an entire week, taking off Uni, and going above and beyond to make me feel not only welcome, but like I was a visiting family member. You guys made me feel like I was sitting down to dinner with my in-laws, who I adore, and I will always be grateful for that. Another giant hug and and a thanks to my family of Desai's in New Zealand, whom I had never really had the chance to meet before this trip, for again taking me in and making me feel right and home and then some. You didn't tire at all during the trip, no matter how many crazy things we did, and you were so kind and so generous and so loving that I cried a bit when I left and I sincerely can't wait to return to visit again.
Below is the race report from the big day itself. In the coming weeks, you'll find jumps to the travelogue of the trip, including daily summaries, photos, and random notes as I try to show you Adelaide and then the North Coast of New Zealand through my eyes and those of the folks who hosted me. My wanderlust has happily been sated for the time being. I hope my journey inspires you to get out there and try something new. I was shown such incredible warmth from everyone I met that I never felt alone.
Enjoy, and feel free to leave your comments below.
Pre-Race
I awoke that morning and went through my usual race day routine, preparing a breakfast of oatmeal and coffee and getting my water bottles ready for the day's event. I wasn't particularly excited or anxious about the race - all the headaches I'd been through this week left me ready to just get it over it. As I sat down to eat I opened up facebook. And there, I instantly found my motivation:
My friend Sarah had collected photos from my friends and family and uploaded them to a facebook album. In them, they were all holding signs wishing me well!
I could hardly believe it. I was so touched! My heart swelled, and I immediately felt a renewed sense of commitment. There were people out there still rooting for me! I knew right then that I was no longer going to head out on that race course and just go through the motions, but that I was going to dig deep and push and find that extra 10%. You better believe those photos made all the difference.
The rest of race morning went off to plan. I had set out all my gear the night before, so once the bottles were prepped Maddie helped me to load everything in the car and we drove off to the race site. We made sure to load her bike, too, so that she could then drop the car off with her mom, get in a ride, and then guide me home post-race. As we drove, Maddie gave me one of the best pre-race pep talks I've ever had. I had yet another person telling me how much she believed in me. I was moved, especially since this came from someone I looked up to myself, and thought "Well, if she can believe in me so much, then maybe I should believe in myself!"
She knew exactly how to get to the parking lot across the street from transition and took me straight to it. Once there, she dropped me off, wished me well, and I carried my things to the bike to get prepped.
It didn’t take long. I borrowed an available bike pump to air up my tires, airing the back first and then the front. I had trouble getting the unfamiliar pump to grip the Presta valve on the front tube properly, and as I pumped it jumped off before I had time to properly inflate the tire to my preferred psi. As I went to replace the pump on the valve stem, I noticed that the valve had completely bent and broken at the top. Great. Couldn't get away without one last incident, I guess. No matter. It looked like the air pressure would hold, even if the tire was still 10 psi underinflated. Once I had triple checked that everything else was set (bottle? rubber bands? shoes? helmet situated just so? Garmin? Am I in the correct gear to start?), I went off in search of a few familiar faces.
I ran into Kirsten and Jerianne, who were finishing their setup and getting ready to warmup. Their races went off first, and I volunteered to take Kirsten’s bag to gear check so she could begin her warmup. It looked like the quick patch job on her carbon frame was going to hold up, so we were happy she was getting to compete on a stable bike . I waited a bit to warmup, taking in the day, then when the time came ran a bit of the course backwards, handed my bag over to gear check, and lined up with the volunteer who would lead us to the starting gate.
The Race
My wave included all the women ages 20-34. Despite the sheer number of competitors, this time I didn’t feel as sick to stomach with nerves like I had at Nationals. I knew most of them would blow right by me in the run, and despite this being Worlds, I was still confident enough that my bike was strong that it wouldn’t completely kill me. Besides, after the practice 10k race we had a solid race plan, and I was going to stick to it.
The bells chimed and we were off. I held my pace back, more than what was normal, to the sub-5k level I wanted to target. I eventually settled in to the 7:40 pace, noting how extremely easy it felt that morning. The weather was perfect: little wind, nice, cool temps, clear skies. The scenery was grand, running alongside the lake and even on an unpaved trail, noting the hundreds of spectators beginning to line the way. They all cheered like mad for everyone, calling out country names like they were genuinely excited just to have us visiting. I even spied Maddie, who had opted to stay the entire race to cheer and take photos (thanks!), and it made me so happy.
Eventually, by the 5k mark, I knew I had to turn it up a notch, and set about decreasing my split times for the last 5k.
The run course was two loops of a 5k course, and it was significantly hillier than advertised. The second, faster 5k began to hurt. I welcomed the pain, knowing I was still hitting my target splits, knowing that I couldn’t sit back and smile the entire race, but I also started cursing each of those damn inclines. I thoroughly regretted spending all my time training on such flat courses in Edmond. Definitely will fix that for Spain next year!
By the final 1k I was really starting to smart. The torment that is the 10k run was biting down hard on me, and I could not wait to hop on the bike for a reprieve. I ran onto the grass onto what was hands-down the Longest Transition Ever. I ran all the way up a steep, grassy incline, across to my row, and then all way back down to where my bike was racked to slam on my helmet, grab my bike, and go. I then had to run the bike down, across to the exit line, and then all the way back up that same steep, steep incline. I reached the bike mount line in a pant, but hopped on fast as I could and took off, wiggling my feet into my shoes and securing the straps quick as possible before the first turn…
…which was fast, crowded, and to the left. I’m shit with left-handed turns. It had been absolutely impossible to practice the bike course at speed due to traffic and lights, and this corner was much trickier than I anticipated at speed. On top of it, the course was riddled with competitors. All of the sprint athletes and all of the standard athletes were on the tight 10k loop at the same point in time, which meant that at that stage there were about 1000+ bikes all out on the course at once. It was downright scary.
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| Official course map |
I held back ever so slightly that first loop, getting used to the feel of the tightness of the 12+ turn course and learning to deal with the competitors. One lap done and a switch had flipped in my brain. Mentally I turned ON then, and dug in, my power slamming up and wide grin spreading across my face.
I was having fun.
The next 3 loops of the bike course were an absolute thrill. You couldn’t beat it. The course was fun, fast, and technical, but my cycling background helped me tremendously to manage it. I could handle the downhills faster than virtually anyone else around me, and I was able to adjust to take most of the corners fully aero. Even more spectators lined the street than before, and it was loud, and crazy, and I loved every second of it. I was sad when the last loop was up and I had to head back to transition again. I knew I had emptied out a lot on the bike, and that last run was about to huuurt.
Those inclines on that run course? They were now monstrous hills, winding their way up the mountainside. I saw my 5k splits and balked. This was quite possibly the slowest 5k I’ve ever run in a race. I started seeing paces as slow as 8:00min/mi pop up, and try as I might the willpower was not strong enough to make my legs move any faster. I felt like I was crawling. My face was contorted in pain. My stride had become choppy. I wanted desperately to just stop, completely, and take a breather. I reminded myself of every other instant I had felt that way and yet continued on, and convinced myself best I could that it would, in fact, all be over soon, and that I would always regret stopping, if even for a moment. I continued on, ticking off kilometer after kilometer on my watch…
Finally the last 1/2 k was upon me. I knew soon I would be running up to the line and be handed my American flag by Tim Yount, who would be cheering wildly for me to finish.
As I finally neared the last quarter mile, I saw the incline and I had to run up and nearly cried real tears.
It was brutal. Steep and backtracking on itself, before it reached a flat portion which also backtracked before the final run-in to the shoot. The space was overflowing with crowds now. I could see Kirsten and Jerianne yelling at me on the sides! There was Tim, screaming at the top of his lungs! He handed me my American flag and I felt a deep surge of pride. I scampered up the incline and fought back the dismay I felt at the remaining run to the line, which was longer than I had anticipated. Slowly it came closer, and closer…
I threw both arms up in a mixture of both triumph and pride when I finally crossed that line.
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| Go USA! |
I looked terrible (seriously, see the video!), I felt even worse, but I was done, and I was happy, and I knew I had raced with everything I could muster. I left nothing in the tank. I was empty. Done. And thrilled as hell.
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| Smiling, happy people |
For the next 90 minutes I couldn’t eat or drink anything. I had never felt so bad post-race. But I happily waited there with Maddie and Jenny for transition to open back up so I could grab my bike and head home. There was no printed certificate with finishing times here. I had to wait for an internet connection to view my final results. I knew I hadn’t podiumed – I hadn't caught as many women on the bike as I had hoped - though at this level I didn't really expect to, but I knew I could not have done anything differently, either. I raced the race I trained for, and I regretred nothing about my performance. As any athlete can tell you, there's almost no better feeling than that.
I placed 68/182 women and only 11/20 in my AG (click on those figures for links to the race results). Fortunately, we did have a competitor from the US score a podium spot with a bronze-medaling time, the always wonderful Jennifer Scuidero, who I hope will one day imbue me with her running prowess. According to the final results, my first run time had placed me in the near bottom of our category (and I even PR’d it!). I held steady and strong on the bike, pushing through for a 4th place spot on each loop of the bike course. Funnily enough, everyone must’ve felt terrible that second run, because I actually finished mid-pack on it, despite it being one of the worst 5ks of my life.
Goal for Spain: Run faster!
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| Overall standard distance event statistics |
Post-Race
After around an hour and a half wait, transition finally opened up and I was able to grab my bike and gear. I thanked Jenny and we made plans to meet up later that evening. Maddie and I hopped on our bikes and made our way slowly back to her place, even pausing at the local farmer’s market to quickly check out the wares (they were awesome, and no, I still had zero appetite). Bonus was I figured a post-race easy spin would make my coach happy.
By the time we reached home my guts finally settled and I became instantly ravenous. I raided the fridge and scarfed down all the wonderful vegetable dishes in sight, had more coffee, and eventually made my way to the shower to clean up. Maddie finally headed out for her own ride, and her dad John gave me a lift to the Team USA party back in town at the Playford Hotel when I was ready.
The party was fun. Getting to see all the Team USA athletes and hear their experiences was memorable. Plus there was free booze, even if they were limiting it to 2 drinks per person (I asked for more, but they were unrelenting!). I found out Kirsten had managed to podium, pulling out a second place win (!) despite all the trouble she’d had with first a broken collarbone and then a broken bicycle. We were ecstatic, and headed over to the Intercontinental Hotel across the street to see her get her medal at the official ceremony.
The ceremony itself was rather informal, much to my surprise. All the standard and sprint athletes were crammed into a small space round the back. There was live music, and the band shared the stage with the announcers and podium athletes. There was also booze and food flowing about, and those of us who weren’t on the podium busied ourselves with chatting and swapping our official gear for something else from another country. I saw Aussies fully decked out in a mix of Team USA and Brazil kits. I saw Kiwis wearing stuff from Ireland and Oz and the US. Apparently, the USA gear was THE kit of the games, and everyone wanted it. I wish I had brought more pieces. I had only my shirt to trade, but I managed to get a nice collared NZ shirt out of it. Kirsten scored an even cooler NZ hoodie for her windbreaker jacket. Sadly, neither of us managed to find a South Africa or Brazil kit, which we both desperately wanted.
Afterwards, Maddie and Jenny met Kirsten, her mom, Jerianne, and me for dinner at a local Thai restaurant, and then the 3 of us (Maddie, Jenny, and I) made our way to 2KW (a rooftop bar atop the Jaime Oliver restaurant) for drinks and taking in the sights. It was a good end to an even better day, and I hugged Jenny goodbye before Maddie and I headed back home.
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