2006 Bucker Mission Man Race Report

(Note: This is probably going to be pretty long, since I don't know how to tell a story in anything but painful detail. Also, some of the pictures that follow are pretty unflattering, but I will still share them in the spirit of documentation. I got my tri top for free, so I wore it, but I sure hope next time, Randy can hook me up with a free FULL-LENGTH top. I'm just saying.)

The morning of the race, Randy woke me up at 4:30am. Turns out he was too nervous to sleep and got out of bed at 4:15. I was nervous too, but sure wasn't having any problem sleeping!

I'd packed everything up the night before, so after a quick breakfast of an english muffin with peanut butter, we were ready.



It took us about 45 minutes to get to the site and we arrived right around 6:15. There were only a few dozen people there at that time and I was glad we'd come early, because later, it got a lot more crowded.



As we walked in, I was surprisingly un-nervous. Maybe because I spent the entire week before the race being really terrified, I was able to relax and have fun on the actual day. A lot of the people I saw when we first got there didn't seem to share my attitude. I'm guessing they were probably new, too, since it seems like the seasoned people arrived a lot later. When we first walked over to pick up my packet, I was smiling and saying "hi" to people and nobody said "hi" back. The tension and anxiety were palpable and everyone looked super serious. That was when I decided that I did not want to be nervous or scared and I definitely didn't want to take myself too seriously.



And having your fiance document the trip to the porta-potty certainly helps keep you humble!

I have to say that, in every way, having Randy with me at the race was amazing. He kept joking that he was my domestique, taking the pictures, helping me carry my bags, putting on my timing chip and a million other things. But I was so thankful he was there, since it was easier to stay grounded and not be too nervous with him standing next to me.



It had rained the night before, so the ground in the transition area was still wet. The second I put down my towel, it immediately became totally soaked. In fact, by the end of the day, everything I had was soaked.

I'd thought about the transition a little bit, but just kind of set everything out in the order I thought I would need it. Seeing my time in the transitions, I think I probably need to work on that a little bit!

I laid out my transition, then went off to warm up. I did a quick spin on the bike and a short jog up to the parking lot and back. Then it was time for the swim warm-up. I wanted to get at least 15 minutes in the water, partly because it takes a few hundred yards for my stroke to smooth out and partly because I wanted to get as comfortable as possible before the race. I came out of the water a bit out of breath and worried that I'd worn myself out before the race. But I drank some of Randy's magic potion of energy, also called Accelerade, and then it was time for the race!!



We got in the water and lined up all along this retaining wall. I stayed over to the side and as out of the way as I could get. The seconds between when they called "30 seconds" and the starting gun felt like seven hours. I focused on breathing deeply and remembering to start my watch.

The gun went off, I started my watch and we were off! It was a little messy at first, with hands and feet and grasping arms everywhere, but it smoothed out pretty quickly.

I spent the first few minutes of the swim just getting in my groove. Mojo had told me to go out and swim like the Little Mermaid, and that's what I thought about as I swam.

And before I knew it, we were at the first buoy. A couple times during the swim, I'd end up in the same spot as somebody else and, after struggling with them for a few strokes, I'd stop and breaststroke for a second so they could get ahead. It just wasn't worth it to me to fight them. But I kept going. I never stopped to rest. I never had to roll over on my back. I even passed a guy from the wave in front of me who was doggie paddling his heart out!



Randy caught this picture of me at the end of the swim. I'm the one in the light blue swim cap. Those two people are both from the wave behind me, but I don't care. Look at that nice high elbow!



At the end of the swim, the exit narrowed considerably and there was a bit of a traffic jam, with everyone coming in from all different directions. I'm right there in the middle, with the teal goggles. Note that I am not the only baby blue cap and also note that there is a baby blue cap behind me.

Because I did not come in last!! I came in 23rd out of 27, but I did not come in last!

As I ran out of the swim exit and up the chute into the transition area, I was so happy the swim had gone well and so proud that I had stayed calm and comfortable and hadn't panicked, that I threw my arms in the air and just yelled "WOOOOTTT!"



(Thanks to the Burlington News Times website for this photo)

A bunch of the spectators started wooting along with me and I couldn't help myself. I yelled "I DIDN'T DROWN!!! I'M ALIIIVEEEE!!!!" and I ran into the transition area with a giant smile on my face.

My goal for the swim was to finish in 20:00 and I came out in 20:01. Which is okay with me because I really didn't push it at all. I stayed calm and smooth and wasn't exhausted when I came out of the water.



The thing that was hardest coming into T1 was how WET everything was. I was dripping from the swim and everything on the ground was soaked from the humidity. I know TriDaddy said he didn't think it was that humid, but that's only because he's a super badass Ironman in training. I, who am of a more mortal variety, was there and I can tell you -- it was insanely humid.

I didn't rush in T1. I took a second to eat a ClifBlok and have some water. Then I strapped on my helmet and my sunglasses, my bike shoes and I was ready to go. Except for the fact that my sunglasses were completely covered in water and completely fogged up and I couldn't see a damn thing.



Randy caught this picture of me leaving T1. He caught it right before the stupidest thing I did in the race. Note that, in this picture, my sunglasses are in my hand. That's because I'd just taken them off and was just about to, like a dummy, THROW them toward my transition spot. Of course, because I am a total weakling, they didn't land anywhere near my towel. Oh no. They landed exactly in the middle of the transition aisle. So I had to walk back the 15 feet to get them and throw them more accurately at my towel. So that's why my transition took almost 2 minutes. Gotta work on that.

But then it was time for the bike!



I'm glad the mount/dismount line was on the other side of that speedbump! At this point, I'd been wearing my socks for only 30 seconds and they were totally soaked. I'd trained in socks and my bike shoes were only a couple weeks old, so I didn't feel comfortable racing sockless, but now that I see how long it took me to put them on wet and how immediately they became uncomfortably squishy, I plan to get used to the sockless thing.

I mounted my bike and was on my way!



The bike was AMAZING. The course was smooth and fast and my bike felt so good and I felt so good on it. With a ClifBlok coursing through me, I just went for it.

I'd switched two weeks ago from mountain bike pedals and soft-soled shoes to road pedals and stiff shoes and had felt like I wasn't as efficient as I could be. Randy kept telling me that it was because my power transfer was so much better and I could push a lot harder gear than I had before, but was still in the lower gears. I didn't really get what he meant. But I finally got it during the race. Because I did almost the whole thing in my big chain ring.

I'd felt good during the swim, but it was on the bike when I realized that the race was going to be a success. I passed a bunch of people, first people on mountain bikes and townie cruisers, then women on bikes like mine, then women on aerobars. The best part was when I started passing the men and the very most wondrous part was when I passed some a guy on a fancy bike down in his aerobars.

My goal for the bike was 55:00 and my actual time was 47:41. My average speed was 18.2 mph.



I knew before I started that the bike was my strongest sport and had padded my goal, figuring I could use the time I gained on the bike. But I figured I'd be right around 50. I'm excited to train more on the bike, because, now that I'm figuring out how to push it, I know I can get a lot faster.



T2 was pretty good. I got to retrieve my sunglasses, which had dried out a little bit. Standing up, I was a little shaky, so it took me a couple tries to get my right foot into the shoe. I ate another ClifBlok, had a small drink of water and moved out of there in 1:45. I really need to get faster on my transitions. I just realized that I put on my race belt and my sunglasses and my headband in the transition, all of which I could have done while in motion.

I'd heard that the run course was pretty hairy, a trail run with lots of roots. Plus it had rained the night before, so I expected it to be muddy. And it was.

The trail was tight and twisty with a few uphill sections. I was really glad during the run that I had done most of my training on a very hilly trail at Duke Forest, so I was well prepared. There were tons of muddy spots and puddles, but they didn't bother me too much. Because I had my secret weapon:

I know it sounds dumb, but every time things get dirty and messy and I start getting tired, I like to pretend that I'm in a Nike commercial. So with every muddy step, I imagine a slow-motion shot of my foot striking the ground and mud slapping against the camera. With every ragged inhale, I envision a close-up of my sweaty face, eyes staring into middle distance, lost in a haze of determination. Whenever I start to think about stopping, about walking, I drown out those thoughts by imagining the eloquent V.O. I'd record for my commercial. It works surprisingly well!

The first half of the run was by far the hardest, with most of the uphill sections. A lot of people were struggling pretty bad. Effort-wise, I wasn't having too hard of a time. The main problem was my ClifBlok. I hadn't drunk enough water with it so it was, true to its name, sitting in my tummy like a block. But after a few minutes and a nice burp, I was fine.

I was interested to see that the men were having a harder time during the run than the women. I'll bet it has something to do with that testosterone-driven impulse to go out as hard as possible at the start, leaving you to burn out at the end. But what do I know?

We were off the trail and back on the road, nearing the halfway-point turnaround, when I heard a flapflapflap and looked down to see my left shoelaces whipping around. I'd been tracking right behind a girl in my age group and planning to pass her during the second half, but as I bent down to tie my shoe, I watched her keep plugging on and disappear into the distance. Cursing, I started running again and pledged to get some lace locks.


By the halfway point, I was ready for the race to be over, but still felt strong. My breathing started getting a little ragged, but I just focused on inhaling through my nose and taking belly breaths, which always helps right away.

Then I looked down at my watch and realized that it said 1:33:30. Which meant I could finish in under 1:40 if I booked it. So that's what I did.

At the 2.75 mile point, there was an aid station. I always feel bad denying the water the volunteers try to give me, but at the same time, I haven't mastered the art of simultaneous running and drinking and so have never been able to actually get any of that water into my mouth. But I hate to say no, because they are always so earnestly excited about giving us water. So this time, when I came through and saw that the aid station was manned by two teenage guys, I decided to have a little fun.

"Just hit me with it, guys!" I yelled. And they obliged. The guy on my right threw two cups at me, missing mostly, but giving my left thigh a nice cooldown. The guy on my left, however, must have much better aim, because he threw his cup of water and made 100% full contact -- with my face. The water knocked against the side of my head so hard that it whipped my head to the side and knocked my sunglasses off kilter a little bit. I had to run blind for a few seconds until the water cleared from my eyes. And I discovered that it's kind of hard to sprint when you're laughing your butt off.

I came around a corner, heard the yelling and realized my triathlon was almost over.



My goal for the run was 30:00. My actual time was 27:14.

I sprinted the last little bit and came across the finish line 1 hour 38 minutes and 38 seconds from the moment I pushed off in the water.



Randy caught this moments after I finished. After he snapped it, I joked that if he stuck around for a minute, he might get one of me vomiting. But, alas, I never did.

And even though Randy says this one makes me look like a man (which is I put the nice nice girly one in yesterday's entry), I'll finish with the picture I like the best:



It was an amazing day. I finished feeling strong and proud and capable. I met a lot of nice people, including TriDaddy and his family. And I can't wait until next year!