Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Mission Accomplished.

I finished the Quad. All 42 miles of it. And I went faster than I thought I could; faster than I planned. As a bonus, I feel I held back too much at certain points (the ski up, the ski down, the run down) and could have gone faster.

My “95% sure I can do this” time goal was 6:30.
My “maybe if things go really really well” goal was 6:15.
My “if the day is perfect, and I am surrounded by butterflies and songbirds” goal was 6:00. But don’t even think about that, because there is no way it will happen.

I finished in 6:06:25, which was good for 2nd in my age group. My award was a really cool engraved Nambe plinth.

I was not surrounded by songbirds (which might have been annoying anyway) but I felt good all day. No cramps. No stomach worries. I made a few mistakes. Some were minor - I forgot my nutrition three times; some could have been serious but for other people paying attention.

Before leg number three of the race (the uphill ski) I had help in the transition area. Which was good. K was there, waiting for his relay team to arrive. I was taking my sweet time, and he was trying to keep me focused to get out of the transition area. He practically force fed me some Gatorade, and I decided I was ready to go. Took me 3:56 to get through that area. So I headed up the trail. I was going along, thinking, “don’t waste too much energy here, but don’t dawdle. Work hard, but don’t cream yourself…” And I had this niggling notion that SOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT. “Ok,” I think, “I’m just worried because I’m ahead of schedule. Let’s go through my next transition, ski to snowshoe. First, I get my snowshoes out of my backpack…” SOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT! Suddenly, I became fuzzily aware that people from the transition area that I have left a minute or two ago are yelling. They are yelling “213.” Wait, 213 is my race number! “Oh sh!t I forgot my backpack with my snowshoes in it!!!” I tried to quickly turn around – no mean feet on x-country skis – and started skiing back downhill asap. Here was K, charging up the hill to split the difference with me. “I just about had a heart attack when I saw your back pack,” he said, flinging the pack on my shoulders. “Thanks man, that would have been bad.” About face numero dos, and back up the hill I go.

My favorite part of the race was the bike down – no surprise there, you might think? Mais non, I was dreading it all day. Actually all week as I watched the weather forecast. Come on, the forecast has got to change. It’ll be windy on Sunday, not Saturday. Come on, the weather guys are never right 5 days out…
It was windy. 20 mph headwind all the way back into town. “I’ll have to pedal hard the whole way, I’ll get to 3 miles from the finish and not feel like I can go any farther, I’ll be going 8 mph on the flats and wanting to die.” Wah!

You know when you get to the thing you were dreading, and it turns out to be not nearly as bad as you expected? It was kinda like that. Oh, it was still windy, but I was flying. I passed people right and left. I felt the wind tugging at me, but I felt like a hot knife through butta! (Have I mentioned how much I love my new bike? It rocks.)

And crossing the finish line? It was sweet.

Full Blown Die-Hard Quadrathlon 2009 Race Report

(Starting to read this in no way condemns you to reading the whole thing.)
(pics to be added later)
I feel that I prepped well for this year’s Quad. We went out 4 times: did the bike & run, the bike & ski (the day after the Sandia Snowshoe race), the ski all by itself, and the bike, ski and most of the snowshoe. Race week I ran hills relatively easy Monday, tempo on Tuesday, and 7 miles easy on Wednesday. Did nothing Thursday and Friday.

All race week I kept checking the weather. While the precipitation forecast changed frequently (snow, rain, snow showers, rain showers, partly cloudy, etc.) the one constant was the prediction for high wind. 20 to 25 mph, and cold-ish 26 warming to 41 in town, so much colder on the mountain, and much higher wind speeds. Ugh. Race day dawned calm, but literally 6 minutes before the start, the wind came whooshing through town. Instant 15 mph tailwind. J was with me at the start, as the teams leave 1 hour later than the soloists. I was trying to drink as much water as possible before starting, as I know I tend not to drink much during the race. I took a gel, too. He was nice enough to take my still half full bottle from me at the start so I didn’t have to find a trash can. (Thanks!) I started both my watch for transition and leg splits, and my Garmin for overall time/distance/pace. I'll subject you to the split times as I go.

I wore tri-shorts under my CWX compression tights. I loved this – just the right amount of padding for the bike, but didn’t notice it for the rest of the race at all. I did use chamois cream too, and body glide all over my feet. Race belt with number. On top I wore the hoody like last year – again, I loved donning and doffing the hood as needed. I left it down the entire bike. Over that, I had on my new Castelli windbreaker. It was perfect on the way up. I wore knit gloves over my summer bike gloves, and took off the knit gloves at the prison. I had my mini pump, a second spare tire, and my car keys in my jacket back pocket. Also had on short smartwool socks – these are great but maybe next year I can get some taller ones so I can skip the gaiters on the ski and snowshoe?

Bike up 13 miles:
I kept my speed easy through town, tailing Ruthanne. We traded places the entire bike up. I only ate one gummy moon, so I did not stay on track nutritionally. I took two or three sips of water. I was so excited to be out there biking, feeling good, too busy to drink. Maybe a drink system on my aerobars can keep me on track with water? People started coming back to me right after the prison (4 miles out). Ruthanne and I just picked them off, and kept working. (But not too hard.) The down hill was screaming fun, got into my high gear, cranked it, then tucked and flew! The final few miles Ruthanne and I kept reeling them in. It didn’t feel too hard going up. I was in my easiest gear, but my cadence was fast. Excellent. My quads were not trashed. Check.
Split: 1:04:00

T1: Nice volunteer brought my bag and took my bike. Good bye bike! Keep safe! don't let anyone run over you! I did everything right except I forgot to take my gel out with me. Changed shoes, took off the jacket (which was wet inside – the wind layer doesn’t let anything out, either! But my hoody was dry, so I was ok.) I grabbed my water, took my knit gloves, and was off.
Split: 2:36

Run 5 miles: Oh, yeah, this is kinda tough running uphill right off the bike. I was trotting right along. Ruthanne left transition with me, but she had a much faster pace and scooted off into the distance. Others passed me too. I think I only passed one person. It was really windy and cold on the run. I was glad for the gloves. It took about a mile for my legs to come back, and I could relax my stride. I flipped my hood up and kept it there. At the mid-point aid station, I took an orange and kept moving. But at mile 3, I gave in to the desire to walk. Quickly, but still walked for a minute or two. Then I ran some more, then walked. The guy ahead of me stopped to put on yak tracks, which I had left at the T1 transition area. I hoped I wouldn’t need them. Ran through the corner, down the short descent, then faced the long slog steeply uphill (1.5 miles) to T2. Walk, run, walk run. Stop at the porta potty – stupid water. No cramping, but I convinced myself not to push – there’s a lot of race left! Don’t get too tired. There was snow/ice on the road here, but there were paths through it that weren’t too slippery. I sipped from my water flask, maybe drank 3 oz. The water was too cold to gulp down. Quads still not trashed. Check.
Split: 1:05:08

T2: I hiked into T2, and I felt disorganized. I’d forgotten to run through the transition in my head on the way up. Doh. K is there with my bag and skis. First, dig out my running wind jacket, and stick that on, as I was a little chilly. K says the wind is really moving up ahead. Took off the knit gloves, slip off my shoes and tie my ski boots on. I need to get cinches instead of laces here. Different boots? Lighter ones? I fumbled with my gaiters to get them on – maybe I should skip this next year. Is avoiding a little snow down my shoe in the snowshoe section really worth all this time? K had me drink some of K’s Gatorade. It had ice crystals in it. Meh. I put on my glove liners over my knit gloves. Again, didn’t take my gel as planned, didn’t drink my water. I’m bad at that. Next year, take caffeinated gel here. Finally slapped on my skis, grabbed my poles and left.
Split: 3:56

Ski up:
About a minute later I hear the transition area yelling for me, and I realize I’d forgotten my back pack + snowshoes. I turn around and pole hard back down the hill. K runs up, cutting in half the distance, and gets me into my backpack. Whew. Back up I go. I realize soon that my hands aren’t getting warm inside my gloves. Instead, they are getting colder. I keep moving. Nope, the hands are definitely not warming up, even given my activity level. My core is warm, but arms are cold. So I stopped, got my heavier windblocker fleece gloves out of my backpack, and ripped open a handwarmer packet I had stashed there and shoved that in my left glove palm. That was perfect. Apparently my body likes being symmetrical in blood flow, as my right hand warmed up too. I just needed a little help. And after all my bravado about not fearing the cold, too. I wondered how Kurt was fairing – he struggles in the cold to keep his hands from going numb. I kept trying to move forward with lightness – no dragging the feet. I was starting to feel the tiredness. I passed a few people, and some passed me. The course was so familiar now, after training on it. Ok, here’s the flat and downhill part, now the meadow. Just uphill here to Heartbreak hill. Around the corner, there it is. I hope the photographer is up there again, they take cool shots from up here. Tired now. It’s not that I felt I couldn’t keep moving forward, it’s just that I was breathing hard, and the legs were heavy. How much should I push? I still have the snowshoe. I decided to keep it steady and not push. (theme for the day, for better or worse.) Heartbreak hill is WINDY. Cold. I feel the warm heat packet in my hand, and push up the hill. I do what Kurt’s mentioned, really dig in with the poles and push myself up with my triceps. Hike! The guy in front of me has kicker skins on and is herringboneing up the hill. With not much skill. He almost falls over multiple times. Doug passes me, and then I see Doug try to pass the herringbone-ing guy,who almost falls again, and Doug almost falls. There isn’t too much snow on this windswept section. Rocks are poking through. Oh, here’s the photographer, Hi camera man! Almost to the top, and I’m definitely feeling the altitude and effort. I try to get a little glide going into the transition area. Hup two!
Spit: 51:34

T3: Again, I feel disorganized. Also didn’t review this transition. (Another theme? You betcha.) Backpack off, lay snowshoes out. One ski boot off of ski, two, then change shoes. Hm, hard to get feet in shoes. I forgot to get a shoehorn like K told me to. Can I leave my boots in my skis during this? Not unclip, just untie, and switch? Practice and see for next year, I guess. La la la. Take some gummy bears from the nice man in transition area. (I know, you shouldn’t take candy from strangers, but he seemed nice. Was worried I might bite him.) DP comes over and asks how I’m doing. Good. D must be coming shortly? Yup, there he is! I can’t seem to get my skins to go together nicely. No nutrition here but gummy bears. I’m really bad. Fiddle with the gaiters again after switching shoes. Stuff skis into snow. Check I have everything. Gloves back on, heat packet in. Hood up. La la la. Off I go. Finally.
Split: 7:55

Shoe up:
I hiked, not jogged, to the edge of the world. I considered jogging, but talked myself out of it. Myself didn’t put up much of a fight, I must say. It was very windy, and very cold here. I could feel my lips and face getting stiff, though the wind was mostly at my back. It's cloudy now, no sun to warm us up. I wondered if my lips were turning blue. They might match my hoody. I trudge up the hill. No, mountain. Let’s not kid ourselves. It would be nice to be able to run to the edge of the world and hike to the top with purpose, instead of plodding. I must work on this. Seriously. Up up up. I passed one or two people. A few passed me. I paused several times, but you know, it doesn’t do much good. You can’t really catch your breath in a few moments up there at 11,300 ft. There just isn’t enough O2. So really, next time, just keep moving. It’ll get better when you’re going down. The snow was icy and crusty. Tufts of grass poked through. And then, just past the treeline, there’s the top. Whew. Wow, its gorgeous up here, even without sun.
Split: 28:45

Shoe down:
Heh, now the fun part. Run downhill in snowshoes. Keep the toes up and your legs apart, or be ready to roll. I passed a bunch of people here. They had us go down a different way than the route up. This was through the trees, out of the wind somewhat, and there was more snow here. Much better! I hope they keep this route next year. Run run run! Pick up some speed! I think I was a little too cautious here (really? No kidding….) and could have kicked it harder on the steep part. The flatter part from the edge of the world to transition, I ran, but slowly. I was feeling pretty good, and I was trying not to get anxious about the downhill ski.
Split: 12:58

T3’:
Back into the skis. K comes in just after me – I thought for sure he would pass me on the uphill ski, so I’m doing pretty well! I don’t look at my Garmin for total time, as I don’t want to know just yet. La la la. (Oh, no, not again? Yup. Transition fog in place…) Hmm, the strap on my gaiter has come unthreaded and untied. I’ll retie it. (WHY?!? You don’t need the gaiters for the downhill ski!!! *$&%#&^#) Oooo, more gummy bears, yes please. Barry comes by – he’s waiting for his snowshoer to get done so he can start the ski for his team. Nutrition? What’s that? Huh, I guess I need to put on my ski boots. Into the skis, yup. Oh, don’t forget your ski poles. I leave, K has got to be right behind me. Come on, lets move!
Split: 5:32

Ski down:
Ok, you know the course inside and out. Let it go. And the first part wasn’t bad. It was slow- they had had maybe 10” of snow in the last 6 days, and so it was easy to maintain control, but not easy to go fast. A good way to start for me, right? Get my feet under me? Settle in? instead I was fixated on keeping that control. It’s still cold, and awfully windy, enough to push me around on the exposed parts up top. I realize that I forgot to put the heat packet back in my glove, and my hands start to get cold. Just the finger tips, so I’ll be ok. But that was dumb. Just after the saddle, one guy goes down in front of me. I go around him to the left and get into some yucky crusty snow. Ken goes by me here, he’s flying. Argh. "Go go go," my brain says, and "SNOWPLOW!” my guts shout. I fell once and got right back up. But I couldn’t let myself trust that the whole course was going to be in these conditions, with loose snowcover that made it easy to slowdown. So my gut won. *sigh* I snowplowed almost the entire way. In some parts, the sun would come out, and I could see the drifts and grooves made by other skiers in the snow – and then I’d go a little faster. But when the clouds came back, I couldn’t see the tracks in the snow, and felt that I was certain to catch an edge and go down. I almost think training on Mt. Taylor this year did me a disservice, as I let the previous weeks’ conditions wig me out. I need practice going fast on skis. Badly. I lost time on the field on this section +T3’. I got some rhythm back on the road into transition. I was glad to be done with the skis for another year. Maybe I can find some ski races to try? Lessons?
Split: 27:19

T2’:
K is here, and with the volunteers, ushers me to my gear. This is easy – slide on the shoes, let them take the skis. K hands me some water. I take a mismatched set of gloves – one mini-knit glove, and one glove liner, but it works. I ask K to open my second heat packet for me – I want to make sure my fingers warm up on the run, or I’ll be sorry on the bike. He opens mine, and gets me a second from his stash. That was awesome. I take the chocolate gel with me for the road – but miss my water bottle. (What is it with me?) I didn’t see it in my bag, and I didn’t want to take time to look for it. Although it would have been worth it. Oh well. And I headed out.
Split: 3:10

Run down:
It hasn’t warmed up much, so the road is still snow and ice covered here at the steepest part. It felt so good to be running again. I relaxed a bit. Run!! I passed several people. One woman FLEW by me. Hm, I should be going faster. But there is that downhill bike into the wind. The 20+ mph wind. I hate biking into the wind. It saps me. It makes me whine. I convinced myself to save some for the bike. Myself needed even less convincing than before. I did not like the peanut butter cliff bar I took with me from T2’, and threw it into the woods half eaten. "I do not like it, Sam I Are, I will not Eat that Cliff Bar." I get to the mid point aid station, and start downing the chocolate caffeinated gel. I needed the water from the aid station to take with it. I actually had to stop, stand there, and down 2 dixie cups of water to get the gel in me. Yurgh. That aid station was put on by the rodeo association in Grants. I was there long enough to read their banner. And talk to the man and woman supplying the aid. They were very nice (all the volunteers are fantastic at this race.) Hm, they have a nice big campfire. She’s wearing a fur coat. They had a little Culligan water dispenser. I wondered if they had hot water. But I didn’t ask. MUST GET ON WITH THINGS! And off I went. I recognized the last hill to climb. The guy I was passing stops running to walk and groans. “Is it supposed to be this hard?” “Yup,” I say, “It is every time.” I felt like a little bit of a poser, cuz I’ve only done the race one other time, and uh, didn’t finish. But I’ve run the course several times… I meant it to be reassuring and funny, not snarky. Oh well. There’s the photographer – good form! And there, finally is the transition area. No cramping, my stomach handled the water and gel just fine. Woo hoo! Let’s get on my bike before something happens to it!
Split: 47:16

T1’:
Hey look – it’s my bike! It’s in one piece, it looks just like it did when I left it! DP and E are there, helping me take off my running jacket, put on my tight fitting wind jacket. Shoes, helmet. On with my bike gloves – no need for knit gloves over top. The hand warmers did their jobs, my hands were hot. DP zips me up. And reminds me to move my racebelt back to my waist from around my hips. Thanks, DP! Off I go. Not too quick, but not glacial, either. I look at my Garmin: 5hrs 24min total time. Hey! I’m going to be near 6 hours!! Move it!
Split: 3:45

Bike down. The Dreaded Head Wind:
The moment of truth… And?
I was cruising. I got in my aerobars. Into my biggest gear. Let’s motor! Huh, the wind… well, I feel the wind but… I am like a hot knife through butta! No breaking. I’m passing people right and left. Literally, because some yahoos think it’s a good idea to ride in the middle of the road, or even to the left of the yellow line. Weirdos. That was a blast. The uphill was still uphill and kinda hard, but I motored right along. At this point, I realized I needed to stuff my hood in my jacket to keep it from catching wind. Check. The hill sheltered me from the wind until just near the top, and it came back with a vengeance. I got right back into my aerobars and cruised. At the prison, 4 mi from the finish, I looked at my watch and saw I’d have to do more than 24 mph to get 6…. But I’d be close either way. Wahoo! I worked pretty hard through town, though now I think I could have hit it harder, of course. I had to sit up 3 times as I went around corners to avoid cracks and potholes. But otherwise, I was glued to my aerobars the whole way. I powered up the short hill, and down to the finish line. Woot! I felt great.
Split: 42.28

Official: time (Overall Female rank)
Overall time:6:06:23 (21/41)

Bike +T1: 1:06:25 (25/41)
Run + T2: 1:09:04 (25/41)
Ski up: 51:34 (23/41)
T3+ Shoe up: 35:23 (24/41)
Total Up: 3:42:25 (24/41)

Shoe down: 12:58 (15/41)
T3’+Ski dn: 32:51 (22/41)
T2’+Run dn: 51:31 (18/41)
T1’+Bike dn: 46:40 (21/41)
Total Down: 2:23:59 (18/41)

Lessons/Notes for next year:
Get taller smartwool socks. Avoid the gaiters.
Get more heat packets, one each in ski and snowshoe bags.
Get more practice on skis going fast.
Get better running hills.
Check out lighter ski boots.
Check out kicker skins.
Practice transitions.
Practice nutrition. Put gels in jacket pockets – preload!
Put thermos in run/ski bag for warmish water?
Make transition bags that are smaller, and all one pouch – no side pouches so I see everything at once.
Can I preload ski boots on skis and leave them there between transitions?

Nutrition notes:
1 gel before start.
1 open bag of cliff blocks on bike. Take endurolytes, too.
2 gels in run gear. Take one at start of run, take second (caffeinated) at end of run. Carry 6oz water flask.
No nutrition while skiing.
Pack ziplock of gummies in snowshoe bag. Eat in transition T3 and T3'.
No nutrition on ski down (I have enough to worry about.)
2 gels in run down gear (pack in bike bag, or preload in ski jacket and remove.) Take one at start and one and end of run. Carry water bottle.

Totals: 5 gels, plus gummies ~600 cal.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Quad resolutions. Or restitutions.

The Quad WILL go better for me this year. How do I know? I just know. There will be no schmucking of my new bike by a random truck. Or car. Or other bicycle. It will not "get squish like grape." In fact, I am so confident, that I have a list of reasons as to WHY the Quad will go better this year.

1. That guy won't be driving that truck through that transition area. Ever. Again.

2. I can now snowplow down the entire downhill ski section without losing feeling in my quads and hip flexors.

3. I have a new bike. It is faster than I am.


4. It even looks fast.

5. I have no fear of the cold. Just ask my training buds.

6. I have a plan.

7. It includes going faster than last year.

8. Faster on the bike.

9. Faster on the run.

10. Faster on the ski.

11. Faster ... ok, you get the idea.

12. It also includes finishing. I know, what a radical idea, right? Well, you gotta go out on a limb to get the fruit.

13. Given #12, I'm guaranteed to go faster overall than last year, no matter what.

14. I'm bringing emergency supplies this time. Rations. Water. Iodine tablets. Duct tape. You can fix anything with duct tape.

15. I've been watching MacGyver reruns, and I've been taking notes. I'll have chewing gum and paper clips on hand. With the duct tape, I'll be unstoppable.

Woo hoo! Mt. Taylor, here I come.