Summary:
Ride
66.5 miles on the Florida Challenge half ironman course.
Yes, I know a half ironman ride is 56 miles.
14.1 mph average.
Run
20 minutes along the lake. Don't know how far.
Astute readers will say, Half IM? 66.5 miles? Shouldn't that be 56 miles? Read on.
Saturdays ride had 3 goals:
Finish upright and without injury - Check!
Climb every hill, even Sugarloaf. Do not walk any climbs. - Check!
Don't get lost - hmmmm....yeah....see there was this jumbled course map....
Saturday was a great day. I'm so proud of my body. It's weird to be proud of my body as if it's not part of me but my mind is more than willing to sign my body up for craziness. Saturday my body lived up to the challenge. It's performance helped gave me confidence when my mind started to freak out. No cramps. Just go go go.
So much of my training was motivated by fear. Fear of the hills in Clermont. It's hard to explain my fear of hills. I live in a very flat place. It's as if told someone who can't swim "Why are you afraid of the water? You're a wimp. Water is everywhere." For most people, hills are a part of life. They can't leave their house without seeing a small hill. Hills push my heart rate to new limits and sucks endurance from my legs. And so I trained everything I could to make up for the fact that I can't train on hills.
The day started at 5:00 AM. It's a 90 minute drive to Clermont. Stumble around. Make coffee. Assemble all the items I couldn't find after closing the wine store Friday night. Fill mugs with coffee. Drive off in a borrowed Honda Element. Don't ask. My training partner rocks. Enough said.
Drive drive drive.
Arrive in Clermont where it seems that everyone else has a riding partner. Triathlon training teams are getting together. Hard core rodies cling to each other, staring at the triathletes, wearing the jersey of their favorite Le Tour team.
And me.
Fortunately, it was cool for the first time in months. Unload. Realize something fell on top of your transition bag during the drive. The sunglasses are toast. Piece sunglasses together for one last ride. Off I ride. The first 3 hours went really well. My strategy was simple:
1)Keep your HR under 80% effort unless you're on a hill. No pride. No matter what your speedometers says, keep your HR low. On race day you have to run a half marathon after the bike.
2)Maximize gravity assist. As you crest the hill, push a slightly harder gear to gain some speed. Descend as quickly as your novice cycling skill allows. Use this to counteract the tractor beam sensation on the uphills.
3)Pay close attention to false flats and tailwinds. Use the tailwind when you have it. Don't blow the legs on a false flat.
It worked really well. The little pistons kept spinning away. Some of the hills slowed me to 4mph but I used my triple. No pride. Just make it over the hills. It's a little tricky to plan nutrition with all the ascents and descents but that's why I wanted to ride the course. Fewer surprises on race day. Fortunately, the middle of the course is fairly flat even by my standards. This made it easy to keep my nutrition on track. Water was a big issue on the bike but I stopped at the world's scariest convenience store to refill along the way. The plan was to consume 4 bottles of sports drink in about 4.5 hours plus Gu and Lava Salts. More sports drink at the car for the run. Easy enough.
I saw plenty of riders. Only 2 other women. I was the only woman riding alone. It gets kinda lonely out there so I talked to myself to encourage me. Out loud. Good job legs. Keep it going. Don't be macho, slow down here. Positive self talk worked well. Along the way I discovered why I love Just Plain Gu. Because everything else tastes so strong. So nasty. Strawberry E-gels? Starts like a sour berry, ends like cough syrup. Bleah. Strawberry Gatorade? Ick. Too strong. Almost hurled. Every now and then I'd consult my map to make certain all was well. And it was until I missed a turn due to a poorly marked section of the course map. It seemed a little long before that left turn but maybe the map wasn't to scale. Gee, it seems kinda long until the next turn. Well the last turn took a while. Just keep going. Hey, isn't that the Turnpike? What the hell?
At this point I thanked God for my investment in a local map. Only $7. Sure enough. I missed a turn. My analytical brain started to freak out. My legs weren't ready for this. Why couldn't I get lost on a flat section. Now the legs will cramp. We'll have to walk the climbs. It will take a long time. It's miles back to the course. We're running out of water. What does the map say? How far is it back?
At this point my inner triathlete took over.
Don't look.
What?
At the map. Don't look. Does it matter how far we have to ride? Are you going to call Dave to come get you?
No.
Just ride. Come on. Just ride.
So, I rode. Back over 2 big climbs, back to the missed turn. It wasn't scary but my mind really thought my legs would give out at any moment, you see, the turn I missed begins the path to the infamous Sugarloaf climb.
I had plenty of energy gels and salts. They are easy to carry. Water was the issue. It was approaching noon in September in Florida. And then I saw the climb. Another brain freakout. And it should have freaked out because it's the hardest climb to this point in my life. It's not just 4mph. It goes on and on. I couldn't look up because my mind would start the whole gloom and doom scenario. So I started picking mini goals. Ride to the driveway. Too far? Ride to those little yellow flowers. Now the shade of the lightpost. DON'T LOOK AT YOUR HEART RATE. RIDE. Now the driveway. So on and so forth until I did. Fujisawa crested the climb in good form. She is much more qualified for this course than I.
At the top of the ride was a turn. My heaving dry mouth screamed for water but I knew there were 45 more minutes to ride. That's when God sent me a sign. Literally. A yellow sign, professionally printed that said something like:Water. Free. Help yourself. There was a large Igloo cooler filled with cool water and cups if you need them. I later learned that this guy does it every weekend. He checks the water several times to keep it filled. Amazing. My brain laughed, believing it a mirage until it sunk in. What a luxury. What a life saver.
After that, my mind and body started working together. The mind would take whatever the body offered without question or ridicule. My legs were trashed from the Sugarloaf climb. Many of the subsequent lesser climbs reduced me to a crawl. But we rode them all. No walking. No cramping. Just a big dose of "I think I can." I did.
I even ran 20 of the slowest minutes in my life. But I finished the entire planned workout and then some. Go me.