Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Oilman 70.3 & Team Tri Not 2 Suck

 Tranquility sounds at 3 a.m. Sunday morning but I had already beat the alarm to the coffee pot by 10 minutes.  Race days hold an absolute pattern for me: serenity and mental gaming calm me until I reach the parking lot of the site, then the ear phones go in and I lose myself in Eminem's depictions of fearlessness and abrasive focus empowering inner strength and superceding intenal doubts.   Oilman was my last of the season and the weeks leading up to were filled with work and strategy.


  We walked into transition united as team Tri Not 2 Suck knowing what was ahead of us was going to be difficult.   It wasn't the course or the distance, per se, but the knowledge that we would not let eachother down, and more over we would not let ourselves down.   2011 was a year of challenges for the 3 of us and somehow, at least in my head, this race signified redemption.



My efforts to keep my head down and my thoughts quiet were interrupted occasionally by fellow competitors, supporters and the giant strides of Bella in anticipaton of venturing the entire venue.   Of course I scoped out our relay opponents, but so often I misjudge the strengths of them and after reading Mark Allen's article on mental toughness it didn't really matter who the competition was, I was there to race my race.   Again, I quieted my thoughts and turned my focus to Carrie.   This would be her first 1.2 mile open water swim, and she was going to finish it for us and for her.   The day couldn't have been more perfect, in my opinion, chilly but not cold, overcast and a slight wind.   We snuck some pictures in as we walked our swimmer to her starting line.  It is truly amazing to see the focus in a competitor switch the second they toe the line.   My intuition was on fire watching my teammates prepare as we were all doing our least favored event.   At last, the gun goes off and so did Carrie.




Back in transition, I Gu'd up and checked my nutrition was in alignment with the plan Lori, Jason and I worked on.   2 bottles of EFS, 6 gu's, a bag a small pretzels (made a nice quasimoto hump in my jersey), and my salt tabs should get me through the 56 mile time trial I was about to endure.   My focus back to my watch and the transition line looking for Brad or Carrie.   38 minutes in I better gear up my thoughts proceeded my actions as I was already in my cleats and fastening my aero helmet.   I shoved 2 gu packs in te leg of my shorts for easir access and to make room in the bento box for a nutrition bar- better safe than sorry.   40 minutes.Gretchen and I watched the smooth chip hand off by an all male team  that we subscribed to: "When Carrie comes in I'll get the chip and put it on your ankle".  "Brilliant".   Stephen screams "Here she comes"!   And there she was Brad just a few feet in front of her cheering her on.   Gretch grabs the ankle strap, I grab my bike, chip fastened and I am off like a prom dress!  



Before I even get out of T1 my 2 gu's, strategically placed in the thigh of my shorts eject themselves, damnit- I guess they weren't up for a ride.   Of course the mount line was 6 feet further than where I thought it should be but overruling volunteers got me back on track....and we're off!   Don't go out too fast, have fun, remember what Lori said, you don't want Jason yelling at you my thoughts roared.   Left turn, thoughts continued 56 miles and no ipod, listen to the cars, the birds, why didn't you eat all of your breakfast, at least I don't haveto pee.   Right turn- climbing now.  It figures the one place in Houston I get to race at has hills, at least the wind is calm, I like her kit, hey theresa duck, where's the chip seal... shut up!   Right turn- solitary confinement.  No spectators, no cars, no ipod.  Remember Mark Allen "find the place between the positive and negative where it is quiet and stay there".  I've yet to master the meditation but I understand the place where negative talk and positive talk lives in me, I kept my head wedged between the two.  Calm.   I looked at my watch, 26.2 mph.  I guess there is a tail wind, slow down remember what Jason said.   I pulled back and settled in to a steady cadence.   It wasn't long before the scandaloous stretch of scurvy seal was staring me in the face.    Two weeks leading up to the race local athletes ranted about the 10, no 14, no 16 miles of new chip seal on the bike course, certain to rattle your brain and chip your teeth.   Will it be paved before the race?   Will they tear up more of the road?  What pressure should I put in my tires?   "SHhhhhhh, quiet place.   I endured it, it was not bad but I was greatful for the moment when I hit the slick street again.   Mile 28 self -scanning.  Legs feel good, knee is holding on, saddle is feeling numb but no soreness, where's my...oh my watch stopped- great.   Down 1.5 ish bottles, perfect, 3 gu's and 3 salt tabs-on target, all inner dialogue as I am sure any competitor watching me thought I may have been hallucinating what with my head nods and awkward agreement that everything was going...well...right.    Where's the turn around?   Shiiiiiiit- left handed turn, don't lose it! ( insert Zoolander tantrum in turning left) Whew.   I guess that's the turn around.    I grabbed my first water bottle from a sweet little boy that said " I think you're in the wrong race, this is all boys!"    I think, dear child, all the girls were in front of me, and you got here late!  Down the hatch the water went all 20 ounces and as I passed a couple of Bicycle World athletes I let them know it was "time to take it home".   Mile 40 my thoughts began to explode.  My calmness became calamity.  What times it, am I on track, I only have 2 gu's left, I need water, I need calories, why did I say I'd do this, is it sprinkling, I can't handle my bike in the rain, where... what...why...Shut-up! Focus!  Head down, find a target and pick them off....Oh I love Target! Focus, Jennifer, focus" .   Target in place, knee feeling achey and losing form but I reestablished my quiet place and knew this is where the mental game was going to take shape.  I contnued on my path to conquer my target.   As I passed him I asked the time, 2:42 since his swim began 20 minutes before I left transition.  PEOPLE, left turn, slick roads!   I was rejuvenated to see LIFE and feel the energy of the volunteers.   I picked up my cadence, shifted to a higher gear and took my last gu at mile 50.  My eyes began to weaken.   I was chasing that little dot in my left eye.  You know,  the one that appears in the periphery but when you try to look  it jumps further into the periphery.   My eyelids felt heavy, chills overcame my burning red legs ( so much for sport legs and no burn) and I began wondering what tools I had to stab into one or both of my tires and if my team would believe it.   You came to do a job...do it!   Down goes the rest of my EFS, all that was left of calories was the hunch back of pretzels and the bar that awaits me at transition because butter fingers dropped it in excitement!   My legs were heavy and  had to pee like a race horse.   Find the calm.  Finally, a long descent helped me find my cadence and I was back in action.   This is where I found out exactly howfar 5 miles was.  It was actually 8.  The climbs were harder, my legs were suffering bloody abrasions and numbness, my elbows rubbed raw and my mind, again, was defeating me.   Drop your gear, stop fo a second.  NO!  Shut the hell up and do what you came to do.   mailto:F*@# it, gear up, head down and hammer. it    I came here to compete, so I wanted to leave knowing I gave it everything I had.  Every injury I overcame,every friend I made, every friend I lost, every home I lost, every swim, bike and run I completed, everything right here, right now. 

 I could see the long line of cones leading me back to where I started with my team.   Just keep pedaling.  YOu're almost there.   In an instant I felt the hours of labor begin to creep up my digstive tract and I wondered if I would make it to the finish line in one piece.    Last turn.  My senses were off.   There was no auditory function, my tactility retreated, my taste was only of salt and my eyes were failing me- seriously, but I was still going.   I pulled my feet from my shoes, a small victory as I have only done this twice in a race, and I realized I was coming in very fast.   Where's the dismount?  You're coming in too hot, why can't I hear anything?  Puke when you get to Gretchen, they're counting on ...BRAKES!    Oh Shit!   I felt my bare feet hit the ground, my bike over my shoulder and  hussled what was left of me over the timing mat and made my way back to my team.    I handed the chip to Gretchen an collapsed to my haunches as the blistering tears filled my lids.  I did it, I did it.



Gretchen made her way out on the run, a 3 loop course, where spectators had plentyof face time.   We cheered for our gal pal to bring us home every moment she passed.   Her first 2 loops were on pace (so we assumed) and she looked strong.   Worry set in as we waited for her third loop passing and time was elongating.   Her calves had cramped and her back had ceased causing respiratory issues to boot.  Finally, we saw her bright colored ensemble hoofing in and we were relieved she was home.   Carri and I darted out to run along side our fearless friend into her finish ne.  The specatatos got a good laugh when the announcer congratulated team, Tri Not 2 Suck, on our finish!   We ran around to great Gretch with a big sweaty hug and a delaration of redemption!  We did it. It didn't suck, and we brought home some hardware.








I want t give a sincere thanks to all that have supported me through 2011 and also those who doubted me ( including myself).   I want to thank, first, Stephen.  It has been a very long, bumpy road to recovery but you have been there every step of the way always believing in me and telling me to "stay on your wheel".   I want to thank my coaches Lori Cooper and Jason Watson for prepaing me, believing in me and being the voice of reason and the hard ass, respectively. :)   I want to thank Greg Pennington for hosting a tough race and just being a generally awesome dude.   Thanks to John Cobb and his ingenious VFLOW max saddle that kept me comfy during my ride.  Thank you to Athletes Honey Milk and Bay Area Multisport for the supportive nutrition and workouts that got me here.  Thank you to Tri on the Run for addng me to their team.   Thank you to my second family and caregivers Dr. Weinstein, Debbie,Shayna,Andrew,Zach, Rachel, Peggy, Goldie, Marv and the rest of them for nursing me back to health both emotinally and physically.  2011 was a big year for me.  I couldn't have done it without any of you.   Stay tuned for 2012 season and the holiday adventures to come!  All my love, Jenn

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.