If you've been following me on twitter, you know that I have been working extra hard (biked 1305 miles, ran 765 miles, swam 82,700 meter , and lifted weights for over 23 hours in 6.5 months to be exact) on the #Road to Augusta and well, I've finally arrived!
After dealing with some
challenges leading up to the race, I was nothing less than excited the entire week before hand. By Monday that week, I was already packing and preparing and couldn't shut up about Augusta. I know social media loved the way I flooded the pages with everything Augusta related.
Although I was extremely excited I knew that I was also very anxious, so I decided to make a mini road trip of heading to Augusta to help break things up. Thursday, we headed out early from work for a pit stop in Jacksonville and then a late night check-in into Savannah. This put us just two hours away on Friday morning to Augusta. After a leisure morning, brunch on the riverwalk, and some site seeing, everything hit. Literally in the middle of a store while shopping, I looked at Josh and told him "we needed to go". Not sure why, but I had the sudden urge to get to Augusta and be there right then. Lucky for me, he knows I am a little narcotic when it comes to races, so he obliged and we were on our way.
We arrived to Augusta just as my parents were also arriving. Perfect timing...or great instincts to leave Savannah as quickly as we did. Back in December, I got a tip from my friend Dave about hotel location and we were able to score a room that was walking distance to the expo, the swim start, and the finish line (score!). So as soon as we arrived, we headed to the expo for packet pick up to avoid the Saturday morning/afternoon rush (not that I knew there would be a rush, but my IM experienced father expected one and well, I just trust his judgement). Registration was a breeze, literally no line at all. The moment we walked in, my heart sank...in a good way. It finally felt real. Just two years ago I couldn't even swim, just 16 months ago I did my first triathlon, and just three years ago I couldn't even imagine being in good enough shape to do any one sport of a 70.3 by itself. But here I was and I was so ready for the experience.
IM photo at the expo with my mom. She somehow was super calm this day and but was also super excited to be competing in her first 70.3. In fact, it was my dad's first IM 70.3. Yes, he has done like 12 IMs, a double iron distance, and 3 half iron distances; but never and IM 70.3. So it was a cool family moment.
More pictures. I mean honestly can you have enough?
My dad on the left and Dave on the right. Throughout the process and training for Augusta, both these guys have been super helpful and encouraging. My dad has given endless training advise and wisdom and Dave has kept me accountable for long weekend rides and making me push harder and faster. It was great for the two of them to meet.
Back to being a little narcotic about racing; turns out my father is the same (must be genetic) and neither of us like to do things last minute. Which means we usually show up early than necessary or the second transition opens. As you can see, we were at transition so early on Saturday to rack out bikes, the place was nearly empty. But with our bikes in place, the only things I needed to do was breathe, eat, breathe, stay calm (I hear breathing helps with this), breathe, and rest. Oh, and breathe some more.
And then there was time for more photos. Here is me, mom, and dad; all ready for the day ahead of us. After racking our bikes, I ran through both T1 and T2 to mentally prepare what I needed to do the next day. Following this we walked back to the hotel and then had dinner. The afternoon seemed to fly by but my restlessness that evening definitely slowed the evening down a bunch.
Just like that, race morning was here. The weather that day was great perfect. Low 70s in the morning and mid 80s mid-day with great cloud coverage. However, the water was only 68, so it was definitely a wetsuit kind of day. My mom and dad started the race at 7:48a and 8:00a, respectively; yet, I wasn't starting till 9:00a, so they were suited up and ready to go before me. Snapped a great photo (I had only cried once before this photo), wished them luck, and then I was stuck thinking about the race for the next hour.
It is funny that no matter how many times I swim or prove I can go the distance, I still freak out a bunch before entering the water. This day was no different. As I got in line and with the group of girls in my wave, the tears just started streaming down my face. Josh tried to comfort me as much as possible but I think that is just my way of dealing with all the anxiety and excitement. As we approached the dock my heart sank...in a bad way. Then everyone just jumped in the water and started swimming. I panicked and thought I missed the gun. Nope, just I missed that the start line was not the dock, it was some imaginary line about 25 yards out. Not wanting to be left behind, I jumped in. Something about just getting in the water changed me completely. I stopped crying and the anxiety disappeared. I was in race mode!
I had heard that the race had a strong current, but to be honest I couldn't see the water moving so I assumed I would finish the swim in about an hour. Once I was actually moving along, I felt great and all the nerves just became excitement. I focused on smooth strokes and not time. Although I underestimated the power of the current and finished in 38:16, I think there is a ton of room for improvement. Although a way better time than I expected; the slow, smooth strokes were more like an easy swim day not a race swim day and I know that I could have pushed a little harder. None the less, you learn something new at every new race...so next year beware.
With a swim time like that, I was pumped and ready for the bike. I don't have another race of this distance to compare T1 to, it felt like I hustled though and clocked in at 6:08 and headed for the 56 mile ride. I didn't use the
new bike since I didn't get a chance to use it before hand, but the Trek had just come from the shop and was ready to roll.
Never in a bad mood while racing and finally saw the camera on this course to capture a rocking, happy photo. Just after this photo, I had some complications with the bike. Given the time I had to take off before the race, I didn't get a chance to ride the bike before the race and after I got it from the shop. Turns out it wasn't really fixed. I might have had to stop twice to try and look at it myself, twice to talk to a tech, and twice to replace the chain. True story. But that is neither here nor there (and it gives me a huge opportunity to PR the bike course next year). What matters is that no matter how many times I stopped or had issues, nothing could get me down that day. I was there to have a good time and a good time is what was had. Even when I found myself getting frustrated that I could only use two gears to make it up the hills, I was reminded that hard work and good health conquer races like these. And even if I was the last one off the bike, I still had the run and the right attitude to make time up. It was a very slow 4:01:37 and way slower than I would have predicted. T2 was 5:34 and I took a potty break, so faster than the first go around.
The run is always my favorite part and if this photo doesn't show how much I like this part and how much I enjoyed the race as a whole, I don't know what else would.
My favorite spectator, Josh, snapped a bunch of photos as I did the run. Augusta has such a spectator friendly course that I was able to see him like five or six times in the thirteen miles. I was also able to see others that came to cheer me on (and my dad who killed the race and finished before I even started the run...did I mention he also showered and changed clothes? He is fast!). It was an awesome reminder how great the athletes and spectators are and I hope they know how much I appreciate their support (thank you Josh, Anetta, and Alex for cheering me on)! And thank you for everyone cheering me on from home ('Coach Tammy, Heather, Melanie, Kristen and everyone I missed). It was too cool to get done with the race and see that my facebook and twitter feeds were loaded with messages of support, pictures of my progress, and endless comments. Now back to the run...again, a little (okay maybe a lot) slower than I expected. My legs were shot from powering up the hills on limited gears, so although I ran the whole thing (with the exception of aid stations), I ran slow. I guess, that just gave me more time to enjoy the best part. I talked with so many athletes out there and was so impressed with the positive spirit that they brought and the encouragement they gave. My total run time was 2:32:46.
What a great first 70.3 race. I officially crossed the finish line at 7:24:21. I wish I got a better finisher photo, but at about an quarter mile to the finish I passed my husband, mom, and dad all cheering me on and I just balled like a baby. Not little tears. Like the 'ugly cry that is uncontrollable that you aren't suppose to do in public' cry. I guess my first instincts were to hide my face. None the less the crying wasn't because of my 30 minutes slower than anticipated time, it was out of pure joy and amazement.
I won, I won (in Ralph Wiggum voice). Finished my first 70.3 and looked good doing it. What more could a girl ask for? A 140.6? Details to come...
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By 530 the temperature was already ready 79 degrees and the sun hadn't even come up yet. I am super paranoid of dehydration and decided to run with a bottle of water since it was only getting hotter by 7. They were expecting temps of 86 during the day with no cloud coverage. And when I say no cloud coverage, I literally mean there wasn't a single cloud in the sky. So the race was off (you can catch a glimpse of my mom in the picture as well to the left). My dad, who is like speed lightning, volunteered to help pace me to a sub 2 hour race. I was just off of this mark a few weeks earlier by 1 minute and 13 seconds at the Gasparilla half. The first two miles felt great even though the heat was brutal. My plan was only to do 9:15-9:20 for the first three miles but I wasn't complaining about the 8:56, 9:02, and 9:00 miles.
We made it down the coast and back into the neighborhoods and it suddenly wasn't fun anymore. There no longer was a sea breeze and the heat seemed to intensify. I seriously contemplated just stopping and walking the rest of the way. My father on the other hand thought he would stop and take a shot of rum. No seriously, at the "free rum shots" stand he stopped, told a joke, took a shot and then caught back up. What a daughter I am...I didn't even wait on him or attempt to slow down. So with that in mind and seeing him be such a sport (he doesn't drink liquor) I decided to tough it out. And tough it was. I was really started to struggle, but sub two hours could still be met. Emily dropped off a bit as well. Powered through a 9:10 and 9:13 mile but hit the 12 mile mark on my watch way before the sign. 
As we rounder the corner and came out from the neighborhood, the finish line was in sight. But I knew I only had a minute or two to get there and it wasn't going to happen. I wanted to just give up right there, nearly broke into tears and broke down. My dad wouldn't let me stop though and even with wanting to quit and getting hotter by the second I did my final full mile in 9:26 and the last stretch in roughly 2:39 (my watch says this was .34 miles). We picked up the pace and pulled the last little bit of energy out to finish strong ( I totally to kicked my dad's butt by one second). Final time 2:01:06; that is a 7 second PR. Not what I wanted, but it felt good. I raced a good race and had a solid finish to my first of what should be many seasons of running. 
And the race was on! Getting started on this race was by far easier than the previous race; people weren't crowded in, they weren't in a rush to get to the front of the line and there was plenty of road space. I quickly identified others that were that were intending a 2 hour finish in order to help with pacing and maybe make a friend if things got tough. I knew that I would slow down a bit after the the half way point, so my goal was to average 9:05 for the first 6 miles, then do a 9:35 for the 7 mile that took us over the bridge. When I got down the down the bridge and saw the beep for the 7 mile, I was surprised to see that I was actually a few seconds ahead of the time frame I wanted to be in. Great...then mile 8 happened and I started feeling a little, well just - done. 
