I have a confession...before my race Sunday I had only ridden my bike once and swam once since Ironman 2017. The truth is, I almost sold my bike a few times. The only swim I did was last year before Lavaman to make sure my client would actually make a .9 ocean swim before her race. At least I'd been running...I did Honolulu Marathon after all in December (also with minimal training). Instead, I've been running my personal training business Trunk Trainers, and spending as much time with my boys as possible. But I signed up for Lavaman months ago and the hard to get spot was tempting to keep, even without training. So I haphazardly prepared for the day, excided to participate.
My Sherpa, Al, is off island, so I had to get out to Waikoloa on my own accord. Leaving at 4:30am is normal now, with our new training membership option at the gym offering 5am classes everyday, but this time I headed north. The early morning trip payed off, and I got my favorite parking spot right across from the transition area. It made it easier to get set up, even if I took 100 trips back and forward from T1/2 to my car. Eventually I was all set, and headed down to the swim start.
My expectations were low to say the least, but my excitement high as I went into my favorite race. I've competed in Lavaman around 8 or 9 times, including a few relays. I know the course and I figured I could swim leisurely, use my gears on my bike, and walk if I needed to. I sent Jeff a message that I expected to finish in about 4 hours and set off to race.
Nervous energy swirled around A-Bay as everyone milled around waiting to race. Some danced nervously to the beat without even seeming to realize it. Some stood stone still clutching their cap and goggles. All soon-to-be racers had eyes fixed on the swimmers who had already started. Golden pearl, white, red, blue, green then us...neon pink. Our heat seemed like a really fun group of ladies. Everyone was happy to be there. Everyone was jazzed up, being egged on by the announcer as we waited for the gun. We got ready, then were off.
Within 5 mintues my triceps were burning, but at least my goggles weren't leaking. I actually ditched the new goggles I had from Ironman. They leaked for 2.4 miles. I used an old pair I had leftover from a Costco 3 pack, sand from years ago still stuck to the seams inside. They were so foggy I couldn't see anything, but I there isn't too much of a view anyway. I chased bubbles, trying to conserve energy. The water was forgiving and I found the old familiar stroke let me glide like I'd been training for months. I started passing the frog men (those who do breast stroke the whole way and still manage to make the cut-off time), then started getting passed by the purple ladies. I tried to keep up with the purple bubbles to no avail, and made my way back to shore, sun glaring in my eyes the whole way. Just when I thought I wouldn't see a turtle, I almost ran smack into one surfacing for a breath. I saw one more ancient guy, chewing on the algae on the coral below. The swim was long and short at the same time, and as my fingers touched the sand I felt amazing. I sprinted to T1 and was ready to ride!
T1 was quick and at the mount line I climbed on Baby Blue, ready for a great ride. I pushed the pedal and....NOTHING BUT AIR. My chain was off. Great way to start a ride. I climbed back off and put the chain back on, greasing up my hands in the process. Yuck. At least that was my only issue on the bike that day (luckily, whew!). Someday I will learn how to ride a bike properly. I have figured out the best way to change gears. Maybe that's why I took 8 HOURS on the bike in Ironman. Whenever a big group was passing me I would fiddle with them a little, put it in the right gear and take off. Even without cycling quads and hammys I was able to keep up and get in faster than normal. There wasn't much wind and the course was pretty cut and dry. My proudest moment of the bike was jamming down Scenic hill WITHOUT USING MY BRAKES ONCE! I pedaled the whole way and stayed in aero the whole descent. To be honest, I didn't want to risk coming up on my handle bars for fear of swerving, and couldn't reach my brakes, so I kept pedaling, kept calm and talked myself through the whole thing. I really don't like going fast on the bike. I see all of the possibilities of a crash, and I don't like to risk it. Hence not getting on my bike but once since Ironman, and always having slower than average bike splits. But in the end I made it to race another day and for that I am proud.
T2 was even better than T1. I only brought 2 gels with me on the run, knowing with this race the aid stations are regular and reliable. I dashed across the lava start and onto the road. The split for my first mile was nearly 9:30! I haven't been able to break a 11:15 pace consistently from all the slow paced training from Ironman. I know not to go out too fast, but I also didn't train enough to know what too fast was. Plus, my plan (if you can call it that) was to not leave anything on the course. I schooled my breathing with yoga technique and pushed myself to the max. My calves were heavy and crampy during that first mile. I ran it out, knowing a running race has an evolution of sensations. If you can keep going, try, because mile 3 might be easier than mile 1. That proved to be true until mile 3.5. At that point I was starting to feel the heat. Literally. It was so hot my heart started feeling weird and nausea was beginning to set in, not from GI distress. I decided I better cool off to avoid heat exhaustion. If you know me I am always cold, so it was a little disconcerting to stuff ice in my kit and carry it in both hands, never feeling it's sting of frozenness. Nevertheless, I started to feel better and went on to my favorite part of the course: the coral and lava in the last mile (after the usual jokes with other racers within the resort about stopping for a mai tai of course).
Growing up in Oregon my brothers, cousins and I would play for countless hours each summer on a riverbed at our family campsite. Hopping from rock to rock, we would make believe we were stranded on the river and had to live off the land, or shoot the rapids on innertubes or fish for trout. So rock hopping is my forte. Knowing most competitors have to take it easy in the home stretch, I feel that I am home. Sure footed and swift, I head to that sand with a skip in my step. I followed a woman wearing an Oceanside 70.3 top (we lived in Vista for a year and loved taking a trip out to the pier in Oceanside for fun) and she was as sure footed as I. It was fun to chase a rabbit, and we encouraged each other until we hit the sand. Then I bid her au due and let her and the lady tailing us both head past to the finish line. To be honest, I had almost nothing left in my legs as I dug through the sand with a smile, blown away that the race had gone so well.
My time of 3:13 was astonishing! My PR is around 2:57 from about 8 years ago before I was a mom or owned a business. My priorities have changed, and I am ok with it. I did the best I could, and can't believe it wasn't actually half bad. I might not be fast, but I've never really applied myself to getting faster. So seeing my current raw potiential is inspiring, and racing has initiated the inspiration to start a new chapter: speed training. I thought about throwing in the towel on triathlon for a while, but my support crew insists we give it another go. In fact, the whole family and the team at the gym want to do Lavaman with me next year. And Jason will be 7, so he can do the Original Lavakids race for the first time Who can argue with that? Things to look forward to.
What does an Average Ironmom do after a nice race? Clean her gym and take her boys to keiki ponds for being so patient to let mommy do something she loves of course. In true Ironmom style. Until next time, keep swimming, biking, running, and smiling!
My Sherpa, Al, is off island, so I had to get out to Waikoloa on my own accord. Leaving at 4:30am is normal now, with our new training membership option at the gym offering 5am classes everyday, but this time I headed north. The early morning trip payed off, and I got my favorite parking spot right across from the transition area. It made it easier to get set up, even if I took 100 trips back and forward from T1/2 to my car. Eventually I was all set, and headed down to the swim start.
My expectations were low to say the least, but my excitement high as I went into my favorite race. I've competed in Lavaman around 8 or 9 times, including a few relays. I know the course and I figured I could swim leisurely, use my gears on my bike, and walk if I needed to. I sent Jeff a message that I expected to finish in about 4 hours and set off to race.
Nervous energy swirled around A-Bay as everyone milled around waiting to race. Some danced nervously to the beat without even seeming to realize it. Some stood stone still clutching their cap and goggles. All soon-to-be racers had eyes fixed on the swimmers who had already started. Golden pearl, white, red, blue, green then us...neon pink. Our heat seemed like a really fun group of ladies. Everyone was happy to be there. Everyone was jazzed up, being egged on by the announcer as we waited for the gun. We got ready, then were off.
Within 5 mintues my triceps were burning, but at least my goggles weren't leaking. I actually ditched the new goggles I had from Ironman. They leaked for 2.4 miles. I used an old pair I had leftover from a Costco 3 pack, sand from years ago still stuck to the seams inside. They were so foggy I couldn't see anything, but I there isn't too much of a view anyway. I chased bubbles, trying to conserve energy. The water was forgiving and I found the old familiar stroke let me glide like I'd been training for months. I started passing the frog men (those who do breast stroke the whole way and still manage to make the cut-off time), then started getting passed by the purple ladies. I tried to keep up with the purple bubbles to no avail, and made my way back to shore, sun glaring in my eyes the whole way. Just when I thought I wouldn't see a turtle, I almost ran smack into one surfacing for a breath. I saw one more ancient guy, chewing on the algae on the coral below. The swim was long and short at the same time, and as my fingers touched the sand I felt amazing. I sprinted to T1 and was ready to ride!T1 was quick and at the mount line I climbed on Baby Blue, ready for a great ride. I pushed the pedal and....NOTHING BUT AIR. My chain was off. Great way to start a ride. I climbed back off and put the chain back on, greasing up my hands in the process. Yuck. At least that was my only issue on the bike that day (luckily, whew!). Someday I will learn how to ride a bike properly. I have figured out the best way to change gears. Maybe that's why I took 8 HOURS on the bike in Ironman. Whenever a big group was passing me I would fiddle with them a little, put it in the right gear and take off. Even without cycling quads and hammys I was able to keep up and get in faster than normal. There wasn't much wind and the course was pretty cut and dry. My proudest moment of the bike was jamming down Scenic hill WITHOUT USING MY BRAKES ONCE! I pedaled the whole way and stayed in aero the whole descent. To be honest, I didn't want to risk coming up on my handle bars for fear of swerving, and couldn't reach my brakes, so I kept pedaling, kept calm and talked myself through the whole thing. I really don't like going fast on the bike. I see all of the possibilities of a crash, and I don't like to risk it. Hence not getting on my bike but once since Ironman, and always having slower than average bike splits. But in the end I made it to race another day and for that I am proud.
T2 was even better than T1. I only brought 2 gels with me on the run, knowing with this race the aid stations are regular and reliable. I dashed across the lava start and onto the road. The split for my first mile was nearly 9:30! I haven't been able to break a 11:15 pace consistently from all the slow paced training from Ironman. I know not to go out too fast, but I also didn't train enough to know what too fast was. Plus, my plan (if you can call it that) was to not leave anything on the course. I schooled my breathing with yoga technique and pushed myself to the max. My calves were heavy and crampy during that first mile. I ran it out, knowing a running race has an evolution of sensations. If you can keep going, try, because mile 3 might be easier than mile 1. That proved to be true until mile 3.5. At that point I was starting to feel the heat. Literally. It was so hot my heart started feeling weird and nausea was beginning to set in, not from GI distress. I decided I better cool off to avoid heat exhaustion. If you know me I am always cold, so it was a little disconcerting to stuff ice in my kit and carry it in both hands, never feeling it's sting of frozenness. Nevertheless, I started to feel better and went on to my favorite part of the course: the coral and lava in the last mile (after the usual jokes with other racers within the resort about stopping for a mai tai of course).
Growing up in Oregon my brothers, cousins and I would play for countless hours each summer on a riverbed at our family campsite. Hopping from rock to rock, we would make believe we were stranded on the river and had to live off the land, or shoot the rapids on innertubes or fish for trout. So rock hopping is my forte. Knowing most competitors have to take it easy in the home stretch, I feel that I am home. Sure footed and swift, I head to that sand with a skip in my step. I followed a woman wearing an Oceanside 70.3 top (we lived in Vista for a year and loved taking a trip out to the pier in Oceanside for fun) and she was as sure footed as I. It was fun to chase a rabbit, and we encouraged each other until we hit the sand. Then I bid her au due and let her and the lady tailing us both head past to the finish line. To be honest, I had almost nothing left in my legs as I dug through the sand with a smile, blown away that the race had gone so well.
My time of 3:13 was astonishing! My PR is around 2:57 from about 8 years ago before I was a mom or owned a business. My priorities have changed, and I am ok with it. I did the best I could, and can't believe it wasn't actually half bad. I might not be fast, but I've never really applied myself to getting faster. So seeing my current raw potiential is inspiring, and racing has initiated the inspiration to start a new chapter: speed training. I thought about throwing in the towel on triathlon for a while, but my support crew insists we give it another go. In fact, the whole family and the team at the gym want to do Lavaman with me next year. And Jason will be 7, so he can do the Original Lavakids race for the first time Who can argue with that? Things to look forward to.
What does an Average Ironmom do after a nice race? Clean her gym and take her boys to keiki ponds for being so patient to let mommy do something she loves of course. In true Ironmom style. Until next time, keep swimming, biking, running, and smiling!
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