So, well, here it is.
First of all, my heart just wasn't in it.
I've been feeling kind of burned out since Ironman Louisville. I know this because I've been looking for reasons not to do ones as they came up. I found them, most of the time. Even as I toed the start line, I just didn't feel like it.
I had a slow swim and went wayyyyy off of a course that was apparently as much as 300 meters long. That was somewhat discouraging. Also, during the swim, I got smacked, which happens, but when it happened I then choked on some water. Once I choke my asthma kicks in and starts producing lots of flem and I spend the rest of the swim trying to clear it out of my throat and windpipe, and my throat got sore, but that wasn't why I quit.
In t1, I used my inhaler. A lot. This may be why my heart rate wouldn't come back down later on. It was a long, slow bike. For some reason, even though there is a cutoff, they send off the women ages 30 and up last. Throughout the bike I felt my confidence and enjoyment lagging. My stomach felt bloated. I would wait until it felt less bloated and then drink some, but I know I wasn't drinking enough. I finished just in time, as usual. It was almost 1:00 when I reached mile 1 on the run.
At that time it was around 93 air temp, but 99 closer to the ground. My legs felt strong, but, every time I started running, I would heat up fast. There was no relief from it, and I knew that there was no shade to run in.
I started getting goosebumps, which means hyperthermia is on the way. I stopped at the first aid station and put ice in my bottles, and then ice in my bra, and when I stood up, got a sudden head rush that almost knocked me over. I was dehydrated.
I contemplated 12 more miles in the heat, even walking it seemed like a miserable prospect. Then, in a surprisingly unemotional moment, I said to myself, this isn't fun. I'm not enjoying this. This sucks.
I took a deep breath, walked over to a guy with a radio, and handed him my chip.
It was supposed to be a dramatic moment. But, he didn't know what to do with it. "I don't know what to do with this," he said, and handed it back. He asked if I wanted a ride back. Yes. I waited about 20 minutes for that, sitting in the shade, and considered briefly going back out onto the course.
No. I just didn't feel like it. I'd stopped having fun.
They asked if I needed medical attention. No, I said, but if I stay in this race, I will. Plus, I was hating every second of it. All my training for the heat was out the window since it was Autumn in New Mexico. I just wasn't used it.
Could I have finished safely? Probably - by walking 3 hours or more in the desert heat. Did I care enough to do it feeling miserable? No. I have a SOMA medal from last year. I don't have anything to prove. So, I headed back to the hotel for a shower.
So that's it. I got a ride back with fellow Outlaw Hartley, who pulled a muscle on the run. That sucks for him because it was his first half iron. I felt bad for Pirate, too, who had a mechanical failure and stood around forwever waiting for help. I'll let her tell you about that, in her time. Another fellow Outlaw, Seth, had a bad cramp and had to leave. But Sweet Baboo had a great race. I'll let him tell you about that.
So, I don't feel bad about it. It was a pragmatic decision. As many of you had pointed out, it wasn't fun anymore, so what's the point? I wasn't trying to win; I wanted to have fun, and I did, the night before at the dinner where I met Stronger, Momo, Commodore, and said howdy to several other bloggers: Duane (who finished the quarterman!) Bolder, 21st century Mom, and many more. I enjoyed that. I didn't get to meet Nytro, but am MUCHLY impressed by her 3rd place finish among the Athenas.
One thing I did learn, though. If I'm going to do more triathlons, I really, really need to work on my bike. The Royal Gel seat cover that Pirate found was great. This winter, I'll be doing lots of strengthening stuff that I think will help. Lunges, squats, and such.
...
First of all, my heart just wasn't in it.
I've been feeling kind of burned out since Ironman Louisville. I know this because I've been looking for reasons not to do ones as they came up. I found them, most of the time. Even as I toed the start line, I just didn't feel like it.
I had a slow swim and went wayyyyy off of a course that was apparently as much as 300 meters long. That was somewhat discouraging. Also, during the swim, I got smacked, which happens, but when it happened I then choked on some water. Once I choke my asthma kicks in and starts producing lots of flem and I spend the rest of the swim trying to clear it out of my throat and windpipe, and my throat got sore, but that wasn't why I quit.
In t1, I used my inhaler. A lot. This may be why my heart rate wouldn't come back down later on. It was a long, slow bike. For some reason, even though there is a cutoff, they send off the women ages 30 and up last. Throughout the bike I felt my confidence and enjoyment lagging. My stomach felt bloated. I would wait until it felt less bloated and then drink some, but I know I wasn't drinking enough. I finished just in time, as usual. It was almost 1:00 when I reached mile 1 on the run.
At that time it was around 93 air temp, but 99 closer to the ground. My legs felt strong, but, every time I started running, I would heat up fast. There was no relief from it, and I knew that there was no shade to run in.
I started getting goosebumps, which means hyperthermia is on the way. I stopped at the first aid station and put ice in my bottles, and then ice in my bra, and when I stood up, got a sudden head rush that almost knocked me over. I was dehydrated.
I contemplated 12 more miles in the heat, even walking it seemed like a miserable prospect. Then, in a surprisingly unemotional moment, I said to myself, this isn't fun. I'm not enjoying this. This sucks.
I took a deep breath, walked over to a guy with a radio, and handed him my chip.
It was supposed to be a dramatic moment. But, he didn't know what to do with it. "I don't know what to do with this," he said, and handed it back. He asked if I wanted a ride back. Yes. I waited about 20 minutes for that, sitting in the shade, and considered briefly going back out onto the course.
No. I just didn't feel like it. I'd stopped having fun.
They asked if I needed medical attention. No, I said, but if I stay in this race, I will. Plus, I was hating every second of it. All my training for the heat was out the window since it was Autumn in New Mexico. I just wasn't used it.
Could I have finished safely? Probably - by walking 3 hours or more in the desert heat. Did I care enough to do it feeling miserable? No. I have a SOMA medal from last year. I don't have anything to prove. So, I headed back to the hotel for a shower.
So that's it. I got a ride back with fellow Outlaw Hartley, who pulled a muscle on the run. That sucks for him because it was his first half iron. I felt bad for Pirate, too, who had a mechanical failure and stood around forwever waiting for help. I'll let her tell you about that, in her time. Another fellow Outlaw, Seth, had a bad cramp and had to leave. But Sweet Baboo had a great race. I'll let him tell you about that.
So, I don't feel bad about it. It was a pragmatic decision. As many of you had pointed out, it wasn't fun anymore, so what's the point? I wasn't trying to win; I wanted to have fun, and I did, the night before at the dinner where I met Stronger, Momo, Commodore, and said howdy to several other bloggers: Duane (who finished the quarterman!) Bolder, 21st century Mom, and many more. I enjoyed that. I didn't get to meet Nytro, but am MUCHLY impressed by her 3rd place finish among the Athenas.
One thing I did learn, though. If I'm going to do more triathlons, I really, really need to work on my bike. The Royal Gel seat cover that Pirate found was great. This winter, I'll be doing lots of strengthening stuff that I think will help. Lunges, squats, and such.
...
