Note to all: I am little behind so I need to catch up. I still have to write about the Long Beach Island Sprint Triathlon and the Ragnar (this weekend). I know everybody is head over heels to read my race reports so I don't want to disappoint my fans.
Moving on...
It's been a while since I ran a road 5k seriously. I ran a trail 5k last year with my running club, Raritan Valley Road Runners, and did that race in a pretty respectable time. This year, I was pretty much forced into it by my family. My little sister and mom has gotten into running and they signed up for the race. Due to my pathologically competitive juices, I had no choice.
It is tradition to run the Labor Day 5k race in the small town of South Plainfield since it kicks off the over the top festivities. The celebration is nationally recognized with TV crew covering the event multiple times. SP is one of the few towns who go all out and put together a party for the holiday. I used to make fun of it ( alright...I still do), but it gives the small industrial town an identity and sense of community. So by seeing everyone in the town, as well as surrounding towns, come to have a great time on a day to remind us that we need to take a day off from our crazy schedules is admirable and I am proud to be a citizen of South Plainfield.
That being said, I have not run the 5K on Labor Day since 2011 and I did it as a training exercise. My friend T-Money and I ran 4 miles before the race, the race itself, and then 3 miles after to make it a 10+ mile day. The last serious 5K I've done is not since high school cross country. To be accurate, the Labor Day race was a jumping off point for the fall sport, where our famous Coach Mike Capizola sees who ran over the summer and who was a lazy bum (I was always the lazy bum....something I regret).
So needless to say, it's been way overdue to run a serious 5K.
When I ran this in 2011, about 190 runners did the race.
On September 1, 2014, over 300 runners did the race making it a bigger and more exciting event. It is a testament to how big Labor Day is in this town.
It's also another clear cut sign that running is continually growing in popularity; a plus in this increasingly unhealthy nation (1).
(1) Oh snap, did I just use three adverbs and a semicolon. This is getting out of control!
The race is organized by a mom and pop organization, which always creates a nice and relaxed atmosphere.
It also means that the race will not start on time.
The race was billed to go off at 9:30.
The gun went off closer to 10:00.
Brilliant.
Normally, I wouldn't mind the late start (very common in sprint triathlons) but the day I pick to run a competitive 5K for the first time in 10 years, it had to be the hottest day of the year.
Ideally, a 5k should start at 8:30, so even the slowest of runners will finish right before the heat sets in. Starting the race near 10:00 brings the heat close to its apex, which is no fun for anyone, especially after the 70s Summer of 2014 where I was continuously deceived to believe we were living in California.
I had already warmed up with a 2.5 mile jog and since the organizers had gathered us together to go off at 9:30, starting near 10:00 made a lot of people tight, including myself.
The gun went off and I quickly remembered why I don't do serious 5k's anymore. They are way too fast for me.
See, the strategy of running half marathons and longer is to start slower and slowly get into to your goal race. That is right in my wheel house. I love starting out slowly and finishing strong (2). It gives you a huge confidence boost and you pass a lot of people in the meantime. Always a plus.
(2) For half marathons and longer, every running coach in the world agrees this is the way to go. I know a lot of people who think and vehemently defend that starting out fast and getting comfortable into your goal pace is the way to go. Due to the distance of the races, you will almost always have a positive split, or run slower in the second half of the event. It never ends well, yet so many runners consistently make this mistake.
5K strategy is almost the complete opposite. You have to start out fast, survive the middle, and finish with whatever you have left. It sucks. I hate it. I suck at it and again, there is a reason why I will only do these in sprint triathlons. Add to the fact, the combination of the heat and natural speed of the race and it equals pain and discomfort. Granted, it's a big part of the reason I sign up for these races but when you run at increased speeds, it brings a level of discomfort that I rather not endure (3).
(3) I am pretty sure I am coming off like a little bitch. Well...it's because I am acting like a little bitch.
I finished with a time of 20:14 which resulted in 16th place overall and 2nd in my age group (4).
(4) I want to note that I am not proud of the enormous trophy they gave me. It's about the same size of the trophy you give to a youth basketball team after they won the league championship (I should have taken a picture...wasted opportunity). I ran a semi-fast time. Hell, I ran a mediocre time and to place 2nd in my age group (20-29), was embarrassing. I almost wanted to give the trophy away but that's dumber than the trophy itself, leaving me to present it in my bedroom with a sort of unintentional comedy.
However, I am very proud of my sister for placing 1st in her group (5) and my mom finishing her first 5K faster than her goal time. A very positive day in the Smith household to say the least. My sister has already signed up for a 10k (which is this weekend) and is doing the Philadelphia Half Marathon with me in November. My mom is doing a 5k this weekend during the same race as my sister, which is fun because it's Marissa's 20th birthday weekend. Hell of a way to celebrate and I am proud of both of them for joining the lore of running.
(5) Call to all female Labor Day runners between the age of 20-29: Step up your game. 23 minutes for a 5k should not win first in anything. Do better.
Good day and good racing.
Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Friday, September 5, 2014
Race Report: Timberman 70.3
Alright, the race occurred on August 17, so yes, there has been some time since the race and the completion of this post.
I can explain.
I promise.
I wanted to dissect the race in more ways than one (654353 ways to be exact) and completely remember the experience with a clear head because the result of my performance is bittersweet.
So without further ado, the breakdown of the 2014 Timberman 70.3.
Pre-Race
In my previous post, I hinted that I felt this was going to be a game changing race. A break through performance that may send me to the World Championship in Mont-Tremblant, Quebec in 2015. My training has been solid (you can always do better), my diet was spot on with losing 25 pounds, and believe it or not, I got a solid 6 hours of sleep before the race, which is completely unheard of.
Everything was lining up for a perfect race. The weather was set to be cloudy, high of 75, and zero wind. A dream atmosphere designed for everyone to set a PR.
I couldn't be more enthused going into it.
I even took the ceremonial deuce before the race, which any competitor will tell you, is paramount.
The Swim
I was set to go off at 8:10 am which is getting pretty standard in Wave Formats for my age. The Ironman Race Crew start the professionals first and then go from the oldest to the youngest so I am pretty much used to the late start. They're positives and negatives for the late wave but you really start to take advantage of it (1) after a few races.
(1) Best Advantage: Not waiting in line to take the ceremonial deuce. When I first arrived at Elacoya State Park at approximately 5:45 in the morning, the line was 200 people long. At least. It was ridiculous. But by 7:30, more than half of the triathletes are in the water and the other half is getting ready to start their respective wave. Perfect timing
When the gun went off, I propelled myself with a few dolphin dives. Lake Winnipesaukee is pretty shallow in the beginning portion so executing this simple technique saves energy and prevents me from getting kicked and punched in the face, which is pretty standard. The stroke was working as this was the cleanest start I have ever experienced. I didn't get hit once. Of course, I few guys hit my feet and I hit theirs but that's going to happen. There is no pain involved and doesn't affect you in the long run.
Before I knew it, I was already 200 meters in and just starting to get into my stroke. I felt comfortable and got into a groove early.
Note: Lake Winnipesaukee is the cleanest lake I have ever swam in (well besides the lake in the France Half Ironman. That lake was the most unique color of blue I have ever seen...sorry...I am digressing. Back to the race) and you could easily 30-50 feet in front of you. It was beautiful.
In past races, I have suffered near panic attacks due to the darkness of some lakes. You can barely see your hands, even when they are right in front of your face. It freaks you out because the majority of the training is in a clear pool, where you can see everything. All the time, so when you start the swim surrounded by hundreds of people punching and kicking and you can't see anything since 90% of the time you are underwater, yeah, it's scares the shit out of you. You lose your breathing quickly. You lose control. It's like quicksand because the harder you try to calm yourself, the quicker your heart rate rises and mind races. Even as I am typing this, I am reliving past experiences. It is by far, the worst experience in triathlon (not including anything catastrophic i.e crashes, drowning, and heat stroke)
But due to the clear conditions, none of that occurred. It was a great swim. I completed the first portion with a personal best of 34:29.
Things are looking good and I am looking good...
Transitions
Last year, I broke down the transitions in great detail since both went awry. Not this year, both went smoothly. No trouble with the zipper of my swimsuit. No rocks in my socks. From swim to bike, I made it through T1 in 2:48. Not bad. Improvement is still needed but not bad.
In T2, I went from bike to run in 1:40 which could definitely be improved but comparatively to last year when I did both in a combined 6 minutes, I will take it.
The Bike
I lost the weight. I completed the hardest courses in the state and New York. I felt my biking was reaching new heights. I completed the bike portion last year in a blazing time of two hours and thirty three minutes (21.98 avg. MPH) and I expected to take close to 5 minutes off that time. It would propel me to Quebec. I was ready. The work had been done. It was time to leave it all on the course.
It never materialized. Something was wrong but I couldn't put my finger on it. I did not feel good. I wasn't moving as smoothly as I usually do. I felt off.
The entire bike ride, I felt I was constantly chasing last year's time. I kept looking down at my watch but it wasn't illuminating the time I expected. It quickly became frustrating.
Now, the first portion of the bike was tougher than I thought. I didn't underestimate the terrain but I could have sworn the bike ride was flatter in the beginning and didn't get challenging until the last 15 miles. Not the case at all. It wasn't nearly as tough as France or Syracuse, but challenging nonetheless. It stopped me from getting into a comfortable cadence where I can use The Weapon (2) on the course and hit speeds of 26-28 MPH. That had to wait.
(2) The Weapon is the name of my triathlon bike. It's real name is the Specialized Shiv but I enjoy calling it The Weapon. Cheesy...absolutely...but I don't care. That bike is so bad ass. Thanks again to Knapps Cyclery down in Lawrenceville, NJ (They also have a location in Cranbury) with hooking me up.
It took about 15 miles to get to the flat part I remember so fondly. I did my best to make up time but it didn't amount to much. I was constantly chasing last year's pace. Just couldn't get there. It's fun as hell traveling at high speeds but this was business. I needed to do better.
Crazy as it sounds. I made up the most time in the last 15 miles. The hardest portion of the course. I attacked the hills brilliantly and used the downhills to my advantage. It was beautiful. I felt good and it gave me confidence going into the run. The only problem, I finished the bike portion exactly one minute slower then I did last year.
Disappointment reigns in my heart. I will delve into this later on.
The Run
When I pulled the bike into the transition, I saw the time on the clock and I knew right away that I was easily going to break 5 hours.
Relief sank in even though I anticipated this.
Before the race, I estimated my finishing time would be between 4:45 and 4:55. I was well on pace to do that. If I can just string together a great run, I may be able to shock myself and beat those times sending me into euphoria in the process.
The run started off well. I ran the first two miles at a pace of 7:22. I felt good. I felt strong. I could do this. If I stay on this pace, I could finish the race with a 1:35 half marathon and be at the target time of 4:48. A great time with a great chance of qualifying for the World Championship.
The next few miles were hard to gauge. See, my GPS watch broke a few months earlier when I rode my bike in the freezing rain. The watch tells me current pace, overall average pace, and exact distance covered. I didn't buy a new one so I was using a simple stop watch and measuring myself every mile once I passed each marker. I could tell I wasn't keeping the 7:22 pace but was still moving swiftly enough where I can save energy for the 1.5 mile downhill finish.
Look at that butt....
I felt good and was passing people. I charged up the last hill and propelled myself down the long, gradual downhill. I wanted to reach another gear but my body didn't allow it. I was moving but not the way I had imagined. The length of the race and continuous pounding had caught up to me. I estimate I ran the last 1.5 sub seven minute but I wanted to closer to 6:30 to really finish strong. It just didn't happen.
Mathematically, it doesn't alter my overall time in a crucial way but it did hurt.
I made the turn to the finish, spotted my lovely wife-to-be, Lindsay (3), screamed a glorious Let's Go and crossed the finish line at a time of 4:55:09. A personal best of over 5 minutes.
(3) Lindsay is so incredible with these races. She helps me set up. Is very patient in the process. Lightens the mood constantly and is always present when I need her most. I 'm forever thankful for her supportive efforts.
Here is the breakdown of the race:
Swim: 34:29 (1.2 miles) 1:47/100 meters
Bike: 2:34:02 (56 miles) 21.81 MPH
Run: 1:42:10 (13.1 miles) 7:47 min./mile
T1: 2:48 (Swim to Bike)
T2: 1:40 (Bike to Run)
Conclusion:
The result is bittersweet since my projection of the race was between 4:45 and 4:55, setting the 4:55 time as worst case scenario. Therefore, I missed the worst case scenario time by 9 seconds. I effin missed my worst case scenario by 9 seconds. How the hell did this happen? I trained so hard this season. I pushed myself to new heights. I expected better and deserved to achieve a better time. There are obvious areas for improvement but with the time and type of training I put in, I earned to achieve more.
I was wrong.
Dead wrong.
The bike performance still baffles me. I don't know what went wrong.
With the run, I felt I was going to get a much better time. I stated before that a 7:45 min./mile was a given and was predicting a 7:30 pace. I even suggested I might get down to a 7:00 mile. OK, fine. That was overzealous, but that's how confident I was entering the race. I felt good. My tapering was spot on. I felt fresh. I couldn't pray for better race conditions. The course is tough but it's nothing compared to some past races. This was supposed to be my race and I fell short. I didn't even stay for the awards ceremony because I knew it wasn't good enough to qualify. I also didn't feel I deserved it. And that's including the fact that I gave everything I had. I left it all on the race course. I had nothing left to give. I am damn proud of my efforts but my body couldn't take me where I wanted to go.
With all of this being said, I have come to the fact that I had an off day. When you enter the elite of anything competitive, this is going to happen. It's the nature of the beast. I didn't have it. Which sucks. Lindsay put it very well though. She stated that this was my only race. I put everything into this event. How fair is that? I couldn't compare this performance with any other during the 2014 campaign. That never works out. She was spot on.
I also don't think that's the only thing. I know for a fact that I can complete a faster bike ride than I did. I put into way too much work and saw the results as the season transpired. Again, the performance just didn't come together when I needed it.
They're other factors too.
I did a lot of great things with biking outside in preparation but rarely did any indoor bike workouts.
Indoor workouts are paramount when trying to increase lactate threshold, VO2 Max, efficiency, RPM's (revolutions per minute), and power. I did a total of 2 indoor bike workouts. I should know better. I am not sure how much this affected my time but it does nonetheless. No doubt in my mind.
The most important factor that I continually forget. Dislocating my knee took a big toll on my running and biking. I couldn't really start training until May. I started my training at the mid point of February but the break in between pretty much restarted my running fitness.
The day before I dislocated my knee, I did a really tough, hill repeat workout. I destroyed it. I was averaging sub 7:00 mile pace while going up hills at least a quarter mile long. I haven't done that since high school. I was on cloud nine and came crashing down less than 24 hours later. It took me nearly 3 months to get back to that pace.
Doing quick math, that takes us right before the race. So, it killed me. I have no idea what my pace would be if I didn't hurt myself but I can tell you, it did it's damage. A lot more than I could have possibly comprehended.
Lesson Learned
Overall though, this race will appear more brightly as time passes. I forgot the bad stuff and remember that I still made great strides. The half marathon was a personal best in the Half Ironman distance. I beat my personal best in the swim by a minute. My transitions are getting better. It's exciting. I feel the rift in the air. I just need to be smarter and work harder.
We'll see. I signed up for the Long Beach Island Triathlon on September 14 and look to place in the Top 10. Again, we'll see.
Thanks for reading.
I can explain.
I promise.
I wanted to dissect the race in more ways than one (654353 ways to be exact) and completely remember the experience with a clear head because the result of my performance is bittersweet.
So without further ado, the breakdown of the 2014 Timberman 70.3.
Pre-Race
In my previous post, I hinted that I felt this was going to be a game changing race. A break through performance that may send me to the World Championship in Mont-Tremblant, Quebec in 2015. My training has been solid (you can always do better), my diet was spot on with losing 25 pounds, and believe it or not, I got a solid 6 hours of sleep before the race, which is completely unheard of.
Everything was lining up for a perfect race. The weather was set to be cloudy, high of 75, and zero wind. A dream atmosphere designed for everyone to set a PR.
I couldn't be more enthused going into it.
I even took the ceremonial deuce before the race, which any competitor will tell you, is paramount.
The Swim
I was set to go off at 8:10 am which is getting pretty standard in Wave Formats for my age. The Ironman Race Crew start the professionals first and then go from the oldest to the youngest so I am pretty much used to the late start. They're positives and negatives for the late wave but you really start to take advantage of it (1) after a few races.
(1) Best Advantage: Not waiting in line to take the ceremonial deuce. When I first arrived at Elacoya State Park at approximately 5:45 in the morning, the line was 200 people long. At least. It was ridiculous. But by 7:30, more than half of the triathletes are in the water and the other half is getting ready to start their respective wave. Perfect timing
When the gun went off, I propelled myself with a few dolphin dives. Lake Winnipesaukee is pretty shallow in the beginning portion so executing this simple technique saves energy and prevents me from getting kicked and punched in the face, which is pretty standard. The stroke was working as this was the cleanest start I have ever experienced. I didn't get hit once. Of course, I few guys hit my feet and I hit theirs but that's going to happen. There is no pain involved and doesn't affect you in the long run.
Before I knew it, I was already 200 meters in and just starting to get into my stroke. I felt comfortable and got into a groove early.
Note: Lake Winnipesaukee is the cleanest lake I have ever swam in (well besides the lake in the France Half Ironman. That lake was the most unique color of blue I have ever seen...sorry...I am digressing. Back to the race) and you could easily 30-50 feet in front of you. It was beautiful.
In past races, I have suffered near panic attacks due to the darkness of some lakes. You can barely see your hands, even when they are right in front of your face. It freaks you out because the majority of the training is in a clear pool, where you can see everything. All the time, so when you start the swim surrounded by hundreds of people punching and kicking and you can't see anything since 90% of the time you are underwater, yeah, it's scares the shit out of you. You lose your breathing quickly. You lose control. It's like quicksand because the harder you try to calm yourself, the quicker your heart rate rises and mind races. Even as I am typing this, I am reliving past experiences. It is by far, the worst experience in triathlon (not including anything catastrophic i.e crashes, drowning, and heat stroke)
But due to the clear conditions, none of that occurred. It was a great swim. I completed the first portion with a personal best of 34:29.
Things are looking good and I am looking good...
Transitions
Last year, I broke down the transitions in great detail since both went awry. Not this year, both went smoothly. No trouble with the zipper of my swimsuit. No rocks in my socks. From swim to bike, I made it through T1 in 2:48. Not bad. Improvement is still needed but not bad.
In T2, I went from bike to run in 1:40 which could definitely be improved but comparatively to last year when I did both in a combined 6 minutes, I will take it.
The Bike
I lost the weight. I completed the hardest courses in the state and New York. I felt my biking was reaching new heights. I completed the bike portion last year in a blazing time of two hours and thirty three minutes (21.98 avg. MPH) and I expected to take close to 5 minutes off that time. It would propel me to Quebec. I was ready. The work had been done. It was time to leave it all on the course.
It never materialized. Something was wrong but I couldn't put my finger on it. I did not feel good. I wasn't moving as smoothly as I usually do. I felt off.
The entire bike ride, I felt I was constantly chasing last year's time. I kept looking down at my watch but it wasn't illuminating the time I expected. It quickly became frustrating.
Now, the first portion of the bike was tougher than I thought. I didn't underestimate the terrain but I could have sworn the bike ride was flatter in the beginning and didn't get challenging until the last 15 miles. Not the case at all. It wasn't nearly as tough as France or Syracuse, but challenging nonetheless. It stopped me from getting into a comfortable cadence where I can use The Weapon (2) on the course and hit speeds of 26-28 MPH. That had to wait.
(2) The Weapon is the name of my triathlon bike. It's real name is the Specialized Shiv but I enjoy calling it The Weapon. Cheesy...absolutely...but I don't care. That bike is so bad ass. Thanks again to Knapps Cyclery down in Lawrenceville, NJ (They also have a location in Cranbury) with hooking me up.
It took about 15 miles to get to the flat part I remember so fondly. I did my best to make up time but it didn't amount to much. I was constantly chasing last year's pace. Just couldn't get there. It's fun as hell traveling at high speeds but this was business. I needed to do better.
Crazy as it sounds. I made up the most time in the last 15 miles. The hardest portion of the course. I attacked the hills brilliantly and used the downhills to my advantage. It was beautiful. I felt good and it gave me confidence going into the run. The only problem, I finished the bike portion exactly one minute slower then I did last year.
Disappointment reigns in my heart. I will delve into this later on.
The Run
When I pulled the bike into the transition, I saw the time on the clock and I knew right away that I was easily going to break 5 hours.
Relief sank in even though I anticipated this.
Before the race, I estimated my finishing time would be between 4:45 and 4:55. I was well on pace to do that. If I can just string together a great run, I may be able to shock myself and beat those times sending me into euphoria in the process.
The run started off well. I ran the first two miles at a pace of 7:22. I felt good. I felt strong. I could do this. If I stay on this pace, I could finish the race with a 1:35 half marathon and be at the target time of 4:48. A great time with a great chance of qualifying for the World Championship.
The next few miles were hard to gauge. See, my GPS watch broke a few months earlier when I rode my bike in the freezing rain. The watch tells me current pace, overall average pace, and exact distance covered. I didn't buy a new one so I was using a simple stop watch and measuring myself every mile once I passed each marker. I could tell I wasn't keeping the 7:22 pace but was still moving swiftly enough where I can save energy for the 1.5 mile downhill finish.
Look at that butt....
I felt good and was passing people. I charged up the last hill and propelled myself down the long, gradual downhill. I wanted to reach another gear but my body didn't allow it. I was moving but not the way I had imagined. The length of the race and continuous pounding had caught up to me. I estimate I ran the last 1.5 sub seven minute but I wanted to closer to 6:30 to really finish strong. It just didn't happen.
Mathematically, it doesn't alter my overall time in a crucial way but it did hurt.
I made the turn to the finish, spotted my lovely wife-to-be, Lindsay (3), screamed a glorious Let's Go and crossed the finish line at a time of 4:55:09. A personal best of over 5 minutes.
(3) Lindsay is so incredible with these races. She helps me set up. Is very patient in the process. Lightens the mood constantly and is always present when I need her most. I 'm forever thankful for her supportive efforts.
Here is the breakdown of the race:
Swim: 34:29 (1.2 miles) 1:47/100 meters
Bike: 2:34:02 (56 miles) 21.81 MPH
Run: 1:42:10 (13.1 miles) 7:47 min./mile
T1: 2:48 (Swim to Bike)
T2: 1:40 (Bike to Run)
Conclusion:
The result is bittersweet since my projection of the race was between 4:45 and 4:55, setting the 4:55 time as worst case scenario. Therefore, I missed the worst case scenario time by 9 seconds. I effin missed my worst case scenario by 9 seconds. How the hell did this happen? I trained so hard this season. I pushed myself to new heights. I expected better and deserved to achieve a better time. There are obvious areas for improvement but with the time and type of training I put in, I earned to achieve more.
I was wrong.
Dead wrong.
The bike performance still baffles me. I don't know what went wrong.
With the run, I felt I was going to get a much better time. I stated before that a 7:45 min./mile was a given and was predicting a 7:30 pace. I even suggested I might get down to a 7:00 mile. OK, fine. That was overzealous, but that's how confident I was entering the race. I felt good. My tapering was spot on. I felt fresh. I couldn't pray for better race conditions. The course is tough but it's nothing compared to some past races. This was supposed to be my race and I fell short. I didn't even stay for the awards ceremony because I knew it wasn't good enough to qualify. I also didn't feel I deserved it. And that's including the fact that I gave everything I had. I left it all on the race course. I had nothing left to give. I am damn proud of my efforts but my body couldn't take me where I wanted to go.
With all of this being said, I have come to the fact that I had an off day. When you enter the elite of anything competitive, this is going to happen. It's the nature of the beast. I didn't have it. Which sucks. Lindsay put it very well though. She stated that this was my only race. I put everything into this event. How fair is that? I couldn't compare this performance with any other during the 2014 campaign. That never works out. She was spot on.
I also don't think that's the only thing. I know for a fact that I can complete a faster bike ride than I did. I put into way too much work and saw the results as the season transpired. Again, the performance just didn't come together when I needed it.
They're other factors too.
I did a lot of great things with biking outside in preparation but rarely did any indoor bike workouts.
Indoor workouts are paramount when trying to increase lactate threshold, VO2 Max, efficiency, RPM's (revolutions per minute), and power. I did a total of 2 indoor bike workouts. I should know better. I am not sure how much this affected my time but it does nonetheless. No doubt in my mind.
The most important factor that I continually forget. Dislocating my knee took a big toll on my running and biking. I couldn't really start training until May. I started my training at the mid point of February but the break in between pretty much restarted my running fitness.
The day before I dislocated my knee, I did a really tough, hill repeat workout. I destroyed it. I was averaging sub 7:00 mile pace while going up hills at least a quarter mile long. I haven't done that since high school. I was on cloud nine and came crashing down less than 24 hours later. It took me nearly 3 months to get back to that pace.
Doing quick math, that takes us right before the race. So, it killed me. I have no idea what my pace would be if I didn't hurt myself but I can tell you, it did it's damage. A lot more than I could have possibly comprehended.
Lesson Learned
Overall though, this race will appear more brightly as time passes. I forgot the bad stuff and remember that I still made great strides. The half marathon was a personal best in the Half Ironman distance. I beat my personal best in the swim by a minute. My transitions are getting better. It's exciting. I feel the rift in the air. I just need to be smarter and work harder.
We'll see. I signed up for the Long Beach Island Triathlon on September 14 and look to place in the Top 10. Again, we'll see.
Thanks for reading.
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