Race Report - Escape the Cape, June 2014

The International distance event is billed as a 1 mi swim, 20 mi bike, 5 mi run in Cape May, NJ.  (The swim course is a bit variable, given its nature, and the bike course is actually 18.6 mi.  Steve the RD admitted to rounding up b/c it looks nicer in print.)  What sets this event apart is the 12 foot jump from the Cape May-Lewes ferry to start the swim.  

I joined a band wagon of hockey friends signing up for this event because of how cool it sounded.  Conveniently, my tri coaches chose this weekend to hold a camp for their long course athletes in Tuckahoe, NJ, so I got to make a whole weekend out of playing triathlon.  

Pre-race

Friday evening I drove to Ocean City, NJ, to join Ashley, Mark, and Anna at our rented condo.  Saturday morning we headed over to Tuckahoe for camp.  Mark and Anna tested out their new wetsuits prior to Sunday's race, and Ashley and I joined 8-or-so other athletes and our coaches for training.  The swim workout consisted of 2 x 1 mi, the first at endurance and the second at IM pace, and the point was to practice swimming in a pack and drafting off one another.  The short story is I can't hang; we'll leave it at that.  The swim location is interesting, a wide bay that's only ~5 ft deep, with a bottom surface so soft you sink in a few inches before finding firmer ground.  It felt pretty icky to walk over.

Next came biking which consisted of repeats of an ~15 mi loop.  The goal was 100-120 miles, but I and another participant needed to cut out early.  We completed ~75 mi and I quite frankly drafted 90% of the time.

I had to get down to mandatory packet pick-up, pre-race meeting, and bike drop off at the ferry terminal.  I would have been better off not following the GPS which did one of those You Have Arrived things when clearly I had not.  However, this wasn't anything that couldn't be solved by driving in circles while various people honked at me.  (Sorry!)  Security at the ferry site was a little intense, complete with not-entirely friendly parking personnel.  Race check in was otherwise a snap.  I was recognized stepping out of my car by a woman who has reffed a number of my hockey games.  More hockey players turned triathletes.  Small world! 

Back at the ranch (Ocean City condo) I reorganized all my things for an early departure Sunday morning.  Mark and Anna had made a yummy dinner to which we invited our tri coaches, Jack and Matt.  It made for a fun and friendly evening.  The morning was busy with condo unpacking followed by Mark, Anna and I leaving for the triathlon and Ashley catching a little bit more sleep before heading back to tri camp, day 2.

Race Day 

Parking for the triathlon was off-site and we had to take shuttles over to the ferry terminal.  This was not a first for me, except for the police and bomb-sniffing dogs which sniffed through all our things before we were permitted to board the shuttles.  I barely got out of transition (to set up the rest of my gear and top off my tires) prior to its being closed.  I joined the long cue to board the ferry and right after boarding caught up with Kate, Mark, and Anna.  After a seemingly-unamplified signing of the national anthem (which I couldn't hear at all), we set sail.

In no time at all we were staged at the swim start for the sprint distance event.  Many people crowded against railings in attempts to catch a view of the sprint jumpers, but we never saw Anna.  From what I could see, there was a single buoy to mark a turn toward shore, so it sounded easy: swim for buoy then hang a left. Except the current was strong enough (reportedly 6 mph) that people were being swept all over the place, including into a jetty (ouch).  The boat had to reset position twice, despite a tethered tug boat working hard to try to keep us in position.  This all took a long time, and we quickly learned that hanging out in the very hot sun to watch this for an hour, while wearing a wetsuit, was a bad idea.  Those who had done this before were sitting inside, chilling, watching tv.  Meanwhile, personnel in the water began directing swimmers to cut hard lines toward shore and one guy took it to an extreme, actually appearing to try to swim upstream!  A jet ski approached him, presumably telling him to turn around, and during the conversation the participant made far better movement in the right direction than they did while swimming against the current.  The jet ski left and the person returned to swimming upstream, after which the jet ski re-approached and towed him toward the swim exit.  Elsewhere, a kayak was overturned by a rogue wave, and the boat and spilled occupant had to be recovered.  It looked like total chaos.

The ferry then moved to set the start for the international distance event.  We moved to poll position (car-deck and jumping level), wetting ourselves with the running hoses.  This was when we lost Mark.  Kate and I planned our jumping strategies in an effort to not look like 75% of the people who cover their faces in order to hold their goggles on.  So much for the fore thought though, as there are no pictures of us.  This is what the view looked like from the deck.

And here are a couple more pictures from water level:

As the next picture shows, the exit wasn't visibly marked from this distance.  We were told to swim straight for the ferry terminal, which meant there wasn't much to sight off of as the actual buoys marking the swim course were pretty far to our right (they aren't even shown in the photo below).  Many cut a trajectory for shore that had them land early, and they ran the rest of the way to the swim exit.  Simply being swept along at 6 mph would have been faster than my trying to run on that extremely loose sand, but unfortunately I got swept in and also landed early.  But not before being kicked in the face by the only participant within 15 feet of me.  Anyway, water with this degree of chop, even if the current is going the way you want, isn't very easy to swim in.  I would have shit my pants had this been my first triathlon.

-- The swim exit/T1 was across and up hill on extremely loose sand, then across black top, then across some plywood covered with astroturf, then to grass before going to the ferry terminal parking lot.  The start of our event was so delayed (>40 min behind schedule) that there were sprint-distance runners coming out of transition while international-distance swimmers were going in over the narrow astroturf path.  This made it a bottle neck.

-- The bike course was flat and fast.  2 loops.  I was unsure what pace I should hold and still have gas in the tank for the run, particularly as my hip was already feeling sassy from the swim/run leg of the race, when Kate passed by me.  Ego slightly bruised, I let her go.  The only hill on the course was an overpass that unfortunately ends in a 270 degree turn, so there was no opportunity to ride out the free speed you got coming down the other side.  This put us into a neighborhood section with several 90 degree turns on chip seal that appeared as though it might also have some loose gravel.  I took these turns with caution.  Coming out of the neighborhood and back over the overpass, there was more room to ride out the down hill before a wide left turn that was easy to take with speed.  This put us into a little head-wind, but it wasn't terrible.  The course veered again through a neighborhood, but these roads were better paved.  On lap 2 I found Kate nearly at the same spot where she had earlier passed me, and made sure to pass her with a vengeance.  Take that!  I spent the rest of the race wondering when she'd catch back up.  On a different day, I'd like to think 20 mph is not outside my wheel house for this bike course.  But the day after biking 75 mi, I was content with holding 18+ mph.

-- T2 was a bit congested with several finished sprinters sharing stories with friends while international racers were rushing through to rack their bikes.  Also, the astroturf pinch point now had exiting runners sharing space with those making their way to the finish line.  This would be a swell place for some route widening.

-- The run course was brutal, beginning with roughly 1/4 mi on that super soft sand.  It returned to pavement before heading on to the beach again for a quarter mile out and back.  I shuffled inside the edge of the water as it was the most firm footing I could find.  Back on pavement for the final ~2 miles I had hoped to open it on up, which I started to do until I understood that my feet were so blistered it felt like I was grinding my small toe right off my foot.  One guy I passed caught back up hoping to use me for motivation to keep up his pace to finish.  Ultimately it was he who kept me from stopping to take my shoes off.  Surely this would hurt less barefoot?  I sat immediately after crossing the finish line to remove my shoes.  I couldn't go one more step with those things on.   

  

-- Race organization/details.  This was a complex but nicely run event. It's definitely one to think of as "an event" vs a normally tidy triathlon else you may just find yourself highly irritated by all the delays.

My race... was not really a race.  Sure, I had aspirations of placing at the top 25% of my AG, and a more realistic goal to be in the top 50% of my AG.  But if this event were very important to me, I wouldn't have biked 75 mi the day before hand.  I had plans for a good run and held back a bit on the bike to support that.  My feet were just too blistered.  New learning for me is to wear socks for beach runs.  

 
Results

S, 21:03 (246th)

T1, 4:57 (202nd)  

B, 59:25, 18.8 mph (225th)

T2, 2:11 (243rd) 

Run, 50:33, 10:07 min/mi (246th) 

Finish, 2:18:09 (9/21 in age group, 52/125 women, 235/401 overall)