Race Report - Challenge Atlantic City, June 2014

Geezer and the Girl

This was the inaugural running of this 2.4 mi swim, 112 mi bike, 26.2 mi run = 140.6 mi race in Atlantic City, NJ.  This course was announced after I had my big races for 2014 scheduled, but when they opened up a relay option, I convinced my Dad to sign up with me.  Local to me, this was going to offer me an excellent long swim-bike workout opportunity as I build for my A-race 5 weeks later.  And since my Dad's motto for running is "will go far for flat", it was a neat way for him to be a part of triathlon for a day.  (That makes more sense when you understand he lives in Georgia.)

-- Race organization/details.  In the big scheme of things, this was like the other long/ultra/ironman courses I've done and was run equally as well.  A couple of differences included: a slightly lower price tag (for those registered as individual competitors); an easier and less time-consuming race check-in procedure; longer hours available to do race check in and bike check in; a venue that is not going to sell out of rooms; rooms with no minimum stay requirements; and without the registration-will-sell-out-in-a-day frenzy of some other races, you've got time to contemplate your life and ability to fit this event in without such a gamble as a 12-14 month ahead-of-time sign-up.  Also important to many people, the Challenge Family welcomes the athlete to cross the finish line with their family members.  WTC, who runs the Ironman-branded races, does not allow this.  I also want to point out the superb customer service presented by the event directors.  No question went unanswered without enthusiasm.

-- Course overview.  Topographically, this was a different course for me.  I like hills.  I like the variety of positioning on the bike they provide.  I like the landscape they frequently possess.  I may be Southern Californian by birth, but I'm not a fan of the beach - give me mountains.  From this point of view, I don't particularly find this course impressive.  It certainly has its attractive sections, but I would personally not travel a far distance for this scenery.  However, for those people who want a flat course, I have to think this one provides a nice alternative to IM Florida.  (But I don't claim to actually know what I'm talking about, having never seen that course.)  With a beautiful beach adjacent to the run and some amusement park rides up the boardwalk a bit, it certainly does offer your family something to do while you are off biking for hours and hours. 

-- Pre-race pump up.  The parachute drop by the Navy Seals was extremely cool.  But I'm not going to lie, Mt Tremblant also had an impressive air display and an overall much more amped environment, and still sits as the most dramatic race start I've been a part of.

Black arrows show current.
Black circle shows swim start/exit.

-- The swim course was a single-loop Y-shape run in the counter-clockwise direction in the back bays of AC.  I'll get straight to the point - this was extremely difficult.  The current pouring in from the ocean under the AC Expressway bridge made this the single most difficult swim I've ever done.  I train with plenty of open-water 1.2, 2.4, 3.0 mi swims in lakes, bays, and rivers; this was freaking hard.  The water was reported as 80 degrees but the race directors opted to allow a wetsuit wave which many people joined.  There were reports of difficult sighting due to the sun, but I had no problem sighting off the shoreline which the course followed.  Others complained of dirty water but they may not realize that just about all swims in NJ (that I've done) are silty like that.  The swim started at low tide and the course was shallow in places; some people opted to aqua-jog rather than swim.  I failed to lubricate properly for a non-wetsuit salt water swim and was chaffed well before the half-way point.

-- The swim exit & T1.  The bay is not a normal swim venue.  Floating docks were put in place with small floating ramps you had to swim up to get out.  This was strange.  I was so spent getting out of the water, and the dock was bouncing, that I was afraid of standing up for fear of falling over.  So I walked my transition to land (grassy field) instead of running it.  And I pouted all the way to the tent, stopping for awhile to shower off under the firetruck-supplied fresh water.  While I recognized the unusual difficulty of the swim and was in fact proud of myself for completing it without a wetsuit, I was mortified by my time: my worst finish by 9 minutes and 30 min slower than I expected.  My T1 was also terribly slow.  It's like I aimed to punish the bad swim by having an equally bad transition.  This was dumb.  But I was so exasperated trying to put my arm covers on over damp skin (sun protection) that I just hung my head in my towel for awhile and tried to calm down.  Ultimately, I did not do an adequate job reapplying sunscreen and would later find my back badly burned. 

Nice personalized bike rack spot.

-- The bike course was great (for a flat course).  Well-marked, well-supported with aid, and police at almost all intersections.  Mix of surperb expressway pavement, tree-shaded roads, and business and farm roads.  We rolled twice through the little downtown of Hammonton which was set up beautifully like a professional ride was coming through.  We biked by a scenic lake and several blueberry fields (which are not quite as pretty as they sound).  As feared, the wind direction was such that the last 28-30 mi were directly into a head wind (11-17 mph) which was a tough pill to swallow.  I remember hitting mile 106 in Wisconsin and crossing over from this-is-ok to I'm-so-over-this like the flip of a switch.  I was pleased to have held this emotion off until mile 107 this time.  I entered transition happy that I felt good from a nutrition point of view, but as a sobbing mess from the fatigue of biking through the wind.

Just over 30 miles of the course used the shoulder of the AC Expressway.

-- T2.  I approached the fenced off "relay pen" to meet my Dad.  I was apparently in the minority of people who showed up when expected based on a predicted arrival time the tracking ap calculated off my 82.5 mi bike split.  I even split the last two bike segments to two decimal places.  I may have been slow, but damn was I consistent.  My Dad took off running while I took my sweet ol' time wiping off, changing clothes, and packing up my bike and gear bags before moving my car back to Bally's and catching up with friends to watch the run.  

-- The run course.  I can't comment too much here as I didn't run it.  The course left Bader field and headed over to the Boardwalk, where 3 laps of various lengths were run before hitting the finishing chute.  I don't think the Atlantic City beach goers had any idea what was going on.  They are used to milling about where ever they please and had trouble grasping that a race was taking place and that they should stay clear of the path.  One guy approached us ranting something about the US going straight to the crapper due to stupid events like this race, which backed up traffic and delayed his travel.  He suggested that we as taxpayers should all be outraged.  All of this will undoubtedly get better in the future as improved event advertising occurs, the general population comes to understand what a long-course triathlon is, and people plan their approaches accordingly.

The course went to the left, southern most end only on the first lap.
The other two laps turned at the middle circle.
The course went to the left, northern most end twice (I think).

-- The finish line.  I'm glad the tracking ap worked well for my Dad who was waiting for me in the hot sun to come in from the bike.  But I wish it also worked for me.  I was watching it, refreshing constantly, awaiting the update that he'd crossed mi 23.5.  Unfortunately I completely missed the "estimated finish" feature and I arrived at the finish line to hear my team name called.  He crossed without me and I was devastated.  We were able to re-enter the back end of the finish area so I could get a participation medal and we asked the photographer to take the picture below. 

Results
S, 2:01:58, pace 3:09/100m
T1, 11:47 
B, 6:50:40, 16.4 mph 
T2, 2:51 
Run, 5:03:32, 11:35 min/mi 
Finish, 14:10:48 (relay place 102/138).

My attitude... I owe almost everyone who interacted with me Sunday some degree of apology.  I forgot what my goals really were for this race and at each moment I thought I didn't meet them, I ran further down the rabbit hole of disappointment in myself and was a poor sport.  My goal for this event was to put in a long training day while demonstrating good nutrition - mission accomplished.  I also wanted that memory of crossing the finish line with my Dad, but catching up with him immediately afterward really was almost just as good.  I needed to remember that I never had the goal of doing well in this race, or at Quassy, or at American Zofingen.  I chose to do these events despite their difficulty b/c I thought those efforts would prepare me well for IM Boulder.  I have 5 weeks to go and my peak training volume weeks are still in front of me.  I will be so much better off for having this great long ride under my belt ahead of race day.  These races were not poor results; they were strategic steps in a larger plan.

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)

Race Report - Rev 3 Quassy, June 2014

1.2 mi swim, 56 mi bike, 13.2 mi run centered at Lake Quassapaug amusement park in Middlebury, CT.

Another hard course.  But since that description is relative and has been used recently (eh hem, Zofingen, looking at you!), I thought I'd share some elevation gain data from all the 70.3's and 140.6's I've done, including also the American Zofingen duathlon and the upcoming Ironman Boulder.  As anyone who tries to look this stuff up can tell you, reported elevation gain for any course is all over the place.  What I'm showing is either from my 910XT or information I found on the internet (in grey). 

Course	Date	Bike Distance	Bike Elevation	Run Distance	Run Elevation	Total Gain	Bike Gain/Mi	Run Gain/Mi	Course Gain/Mi
Buffalo Springs	June 2002	56	992	13.1	882	1874	17.7	67.3	27.1
De Diamondman	Sept 2003	56	1000	13.1	236	1236	17.9	18.0	17.9
IM Lake Placid	July 2010	112	4804	26.2	998	5802	42.9	38.1	42.0
AmZof short	May 2012	29	2885	10	1565	4450	99.5	156.5	114.1
AmZof middle		58	5770	15	2484	8254	99.5	165.6	113.1
IM Syracuse	June 2012	56	2306	13.1	834	3140	41.2	63.7	45.4
IM Wisconsin	Sept 2012	112	6437	26.2	1138	7575	57.5	43.4	54.8
IM Mt. Tremblant	Aug 2013	112	5686	26.2	981	6667	50.8	37.4	48.2
Rev3 Quassy	June 2014	56	4101	13.1	876	4977	73.2	66.9	72.0
IM Boulder	Aug 2014	112	3200	26.2	624	3824	28.6	23.8	27.7

(Distance is reported in miles.  Elevation gain is reported in ft.)

-- The swim course was a triangle shape run in the clockwise direction.  The middle leg had us swimming straight toward the sun which made visibility difficult for me.  The water was lovely, aside from a couple of moments of motor-boat gas/oil odors.  My wave (all women over 40) was last, which resulted in less contact than in other events I've done.

-- The swim exit/T1 was up hill on shoddy chip seal, which was very uncomfortable for my feet.  I wouldn't have wanted to run it.  Being in the last wave meant very few bikes in transition when I got there.

-- This translated to a pretty clean bike course, as 90% of the field had left me in their dust.  Many of the steep downhill segments had pretty nice pavement, which I scouted ahead of time by car.  Nice pavement + straight steep descents + few people --> new max speeds in the Cervelo's aerobars.  There are also a couple of dodgy sections involving tight s-curves descending to intersections, and I saw an injured participant pretty early on.  The course is a single loop with only a short out-and-back section between miles 35.5 and 41.5, so there is little opportunity to check for friends until you get to miles 53-56, which the run course shares (mi 0-3).

-- The run course is quite tough, and shaped something like a figure 8 with the first/top loop much larger than the bottom one.  It has 2 short out-and-back sections, at miles 4.8-6.1 and miles 10.0-11.7, and offers little opportunity to find friends in different swim waves on the course.  It is all on roads adjacent to the lake, with a mix of full sun and full shade.  A portion of one road, leading to the first out-and-back segment, was dirt and had some fairly prominent ruts, so I paid more attention to my footing than I tend to in races of this kind.  The final 100 yd or so were on a grass field.  

-- Race organization/details.  This was a nicely run event with bike aid stations at miles 15, 30, and 45, and run aid stations something like every 1-1.5 mi.  The event felt warm and friendly, an impression I gained b/c they let my friend Ashley do race morning check in (she flew in from France the morning of mandatory bike check in so without this accommodation, could not have done the event), and because they held the finish line open for the last participant to cross at clock-time 9:45.  Personally though, I could do without the pre-race prayer.

Why this event?
Once upon a time (25 years ago), I lived in CT and I used to go to this amusement park.  And while I rode my bike somewhat often, I never really went anywhere other than the 5 mi loop around my neck of the woods or the 5 mi loop over to my friend Kathy's house.  I also ran track in high school, but almost never ran anywhere but the track.  So it seemed somewhat fitting to go back and explore more of this place while enjoying a hobby I've been involved with now for some 13 years.

My race... was not a race.  I knew the course was tough, and my training just didn't go well over the winter.  This was a long, brutal and somewhat soul-crushing training day, but nothing more.  However, because my nutrition went well and because I managed to mostly skirt the sea of negativity, I can consider this day a success. 
 
Results
S, 46:47 (including wetsuit strip), pace 2:25/m (division place 41/55)
T1, 4:04
B, 4:00, 14.0 mph (division place 44/55)
T2, 4:12
Run, 2:42, 12:21 min/mi (division place 45/55)
Finish, 7:37 (gender place 157/197, overall place 640/745).

Race Report - American Zofingen Short Course, May 2014

This isn't exactly an easy race to describe.  The short story is that this is a duathlon offering 3 race distances, it's held just west of New Paltz, NY in Mid May, and it is a very hard course.  The specifics go like this.  

-- The run course is 5 mi long, through the Mohonk Preserve on mixed terrain.  Mixed being grass/dirt/rocks, crushed cinder, over a downed tree and also over planks of wood that act as mock bridges.  It is not entirely run-able, as some sections of this hiking trail are just so steep.  The elevation gain is ~825 ft (by my watch).

-- The bike course is 29 mi long with an elevation gain of 2885 ft.  

Bike Course

 

Run Course

The 3 event distances are:
-- Short Course/CWD (= Canadian Women's Division, a.k.a. "hard") - 5 mi run, 29 mi bike, 5 mi run = 4535 ft elevation gain.
-- Middle Course/F1/Chris Gleason Memorial (a.k.a. "extremely hard") - 5 mi run, 29 mi bike, 5 mi run, 29 mi bike, 5 mi run = 8245 feet elevation gain.
-- Long Course (a.k.a. "sadistic") - 5 mi run, 3 loops for 87 mi bike, 3 loops for 15 mi run = 11,955 feet elevation gain.

Those facts however, don't quite do this event full justice.  Some of the color commentary collected over my years of attendance go like this: this race is where open running speed goes to die; if it were easy, if everyone finished, it'd be called Ironman; this event is harder than Ironman Lake Placid; the AZ course is like stapling your sack to the floor and standing up!!.  The national anthem is played on a bagpipe; the piper sometimes wears a kilt; the flag is a US-flag-imprinted umbrella.  Packet pick up used to be held some 12 miles away in a shack tucked away up a steep and narrow road that put you in a place where you expected to hear banjos playing and to perhaps be surrounded by a pack of ill-cared-for dogs.  See also this blog for additional comparisons to other sporting events.

Some some scenes from the course.

Transition

Road in park to transition area

Along Butterville Rd

Along Rt 44/55

Along Rt 44/55

Along Rt 44/55

Somewhere along Granite/Lower Granite (I think)

Why this event?
Well it started with Heather.  She does the long course and in Oct 2011 (when registration opened) suggested I give it a try.  I read the distance description and knew I couldn't tackle such a thing so early in the year, as hockey is my main focus over the winter months.  I signed up for the middle distance and conned my friend Ashley into doing so as well.  That first year (race in May 2012) I had no goal and also no honest understanding of what I had gotten myself in to.  It was really warm out and I took the DNF after completing the 2nd run lap instead of destroying myself to go for the event finish.
-- R1, 1:08:28 (stopping for nearly 10 min to help a girl who was cramping and freaking out)
-- T1, 3:52
-- B1, 2:13:40
-- T2, 3:51
-- R2, 1:18:12 (wiping out after tripping over a rock)
-- This DNF totaled 4:48:03 and would have been a 3rd place finish in my age group had I signed up for the short course.

May 2013 was supposed to be retribution, but I was technically a DNS as I was never going to be able to participate after the time I'd taken off from training while trying to sort out what my hip issue was.  I still went up there to ride one lap of the bike course while my friends raced.  The weather was terrible.  Cold, rainy, low 50's at the race site but colder and super foggy out on the bike course, and a drastic change from what was predicted for the weekend.  Most participants were inappropriately dressed for this reason.  I actually stopped for a bit b/c I was shaking so hard I was afraid I'd crash.  Read this epic race report for a better understanding of conditions that day.
-- B, 2:27:00.

2014 was about a legitimate finish.  And to make sure it happened, I registered for the short course.  Goals included dialing in my transition times, keeping both run segments <1 h, beating my DNF time and hopefully posting a better bike time.

My race
For starters, I veered from my normal pre-race dinner (salmon) to have the special (pasta), and also slept poorly, in an uncomfortable bed possibly wrapped in plastic; at least that would explain why I was so damp-feeling all night.  At any rate, my first run lap was terrible.  My legs felt super heavy and also too unresponsive to run over the varied surface.  I walked all the up hills and even most of the down hills.  I was dropped right away and within the first few minutes knew my whole day was not going to go to plan.  

In this "run" I pondered how I could be so drastically under trained for this, decided I would not do Boulder, quit triathlon and training in general, and also decided to quit hockey and be a fat/lazy slob for the rest of my life.  Yes, I was that unhappy.  I also contemplated cutting through the woods to quit without even finishing out the first run leg.  I wonder what I would have done if I hadn't carpooled with Ashley, but at the time I realized waiting around for her would be boring, so I may as well keep plugging along.  Since I knew I was last, I squatted in the woods for a moment of relief, so I could try to keep other portions of my race on track.

Specifically, T1.  Stopping for the bathroom during transition would have killed my time goal.  As it was, I did a great job here even though I split my focus to tell Mindy what had happened to me.  (I was sooo late she was worried about me, and I appreciate that someone was).  I exited transition with a celebratory fist pump in the air which motivated the crowd to cheer me on.
 
I found the 2nd to last person on the first climb of the loop, weaving dangerously all over our lane of travel, but it took me until most of the way down the first decent to catch up with her (mi ~2.5).  By this point she was riding just about in the middle of the road, and the car and I had to move into the on-coming lane to get around her.  I wasn't feeling as good on the bike as I did my first year here, as my finger splint affected my breaking a bit which led to reduced confidence in bike handling.  My max speed on a course like this is usually about 40 mph but it was only 35 mph this time around.  I was also cold and grumpy that I had ripped off my long sleeved shirt out of defiance after finishing the first run lap.  There may have been some head winds along the southern edge of the course that also contributed to my slower-than-desired pace.  

Emotions on the bike ranged from "yay, at least I'm biking now and in my element", to "damn, wish I didn't take off my extra shirt b/c now I'm freezing," to "I hate this and why the F do I keep signing up - I'm never doing this again," to the total boost of FINALLY passing someone round about mile 27.  I was not going to be last!  But I sure didn't hit my desired average bike pace.  

I hit my T2 goal time and felt really good coming off the bike.  Seriously good.  Legs felt strong, feet felt light.  I decided to cast aside all things that had not gone as planned today and shoot for the new goal to negative split the run.  I power marched all the serious up grades and ran down them confidently.  I pushed hard for the finish, completing this run 10 min faster than the first one and feeling really proud that despite the bad start and missed goals, I came very close to hitting my desired overall race time (which was 4:29).

Results
R1, 1:10:23, pace 14:05 min/mi, (last place)
T1, 1:22
B, 2:18:05, 12.6 mph, (60th place)
T2, 1:06
Run, 59:56, 11:59 min/mi, (50th place)
Finish, 4:30:55, 3rd to last place.

This event is small enough (67 short course participants, 65 finishers) that I managed to get a mug for being 3rd in my age group.  Never mind there were only 3 of us, total.

Lessons for next time
Next time?  I'm sure you wonder why I would ever come back here.  This question gets asked whenever I talk about this course, and also by myself while I'm doing it.  I suppose I have to start with "why do anything?"  Why do any race a first time?  For the beautiful venue?  For the race organization?  For the personal challenge?  Yes, those things, but also because merely attempting this one makes me stronger both physically and mentally.  I also get a kick out of this small event where I recognize some faces from the few years I've been a repeat customer.  And let's not forget this reason - the middle distance course and I have unfinished business.

To that end, I've got the following take away lessons.  First off, doing well at this event requires sincere off-season focus.  This isn't a "nice little event to throw in the beginning of the season, to start things off".  Sure, it can be one hell of a work out.  But doing my best here means this event will get A-race status next time around.  Secondly, what ever kind of winter we may have, I think I can look forward to plenty of off-season squats.  Or maybe I can find a 20-story building that will let me run up its fire stairwell.  Third, I should stick to what works for my pre-race meal, even if the special on the menu sounds yummy.  Finally, I guess I'm now at an age where hitting the ground running requires a pre-race warm-up, so I'll bring my bike trainer and spin for some minutes before moving my bike to transition.  I used to think only the people hoping to win races did this, but now see it might also be for people who need to start out a crazy trail run with a good amount of agility so they don't break an ankle.

Pre-amble to 2015 race
Hey Zofingen,
I want you to know I hear you over there, whispering and giggling in your little group with my other inner demons. I see you smugly swinging your satchel of crushed souls without a care in the world. It only seems fair to warn you, I'll be taking mine back tomorrow. No, I don't expect it to be easy. In fact I'm pretty sure it's going to hurt. A lot. It's still gunna happen though. Until then...,
-Sue.