I found it hard to believe it was already time to race, and to race long when this race approached. I had only been in the water for 3-4 weeks by that time and that just felt weird. I had to take 10 days off swimming after my Lasik surgery in early March, but the truth is I hadn't been in the pool more than a handful of times before that. I did do a 2.4 mile open water swim race the weekend before Lonestar, which helped the half not seem so long.
I packed up my car Saturday morning and headed to Galveston. It was smooth sailing until I hit I-45. Surprise, surprise. Once I exited on the island traffic was awful too. All I wanted to do was get there and sit by the pool with Kim. I got checked in and registered and finally made it to the pool, by which time the clouds had come out. Oh well. We went to dinner with several of my Austin friends and had a good time. Kim and I were at the Moody Gardens hotel and Alisa, Mel, Vegas, Rhonda, and Carrie were at the Inn at the Waterpark - the somewhat ghetto but extremely convenient and much cheaper hotel near the entrance to Moody Gardens. With such a late swim wave start, I knew I was going to want a room close, and it was worth the money.
Race morning I headed down to transition to set everything up and then headed back to my room to sit. For over an hour and a half. Transition closed at 6:45 and I didn't start until 8:30. I was not the least bit thrilled about being towards the tail end of the starts for the second year in a row. The girls all came and hung out in my room beforehand too, and we had a good time. We saw the pros on their bikes by 7:25 and I was shocked, and getting excited that maybe the swim conditions were going to be good...or at least they were good at 7.
We put our wetsuits on and made our way to the start and showed up about 5 minutes before we jumped in. I don't like all the pre-race hype, so this worked out perfectly. Mel and I held hands and jumped off the dock into the water. The start was kind of chaotic because they just started counting down before anyone expected it, and several girls had drifted a good distance past the start line. I was not one of them. Oh well. The horn went off and it was time to swim. Immediately the swim was better than last year. Last year I came out of the water a good 7-10 minutes slower than I expected. The longest directional portion of the swim was straight into the wind last year. This year we had a bit of a push on the short way out, then a lovely side wind for the long stretch. It was better than a headwind though. I breathe on both sides, so had trouble breathing to the left, but just kept reminding myself how much better it was going than last year. I felt somewhat strong, but had no real idea how I was doing. I stuck to the buoy line the best that I could and oddly enough I was quite alone. It always amazes me when the packs swim wide - not sure why that happens, but usually I don't have to fight too hard for the buoy line. I made the final turn and had a little trouble getting going - we were straight into the wind at that point. The closer we got the better though because the water was protected. I swam until my hands hit the ramp and ran up it. I checked my watch and saw 37:xx. It certainly wasn't my best, but was far better than the 44:xx I saw last year. I ran to the wetsuit strippers, which were all high school kids, and pointed to the biggest guy I could find, hoping to get someone strong, but he was still probably a whopping 150 lbs at 6'3". He and his friends did a good job though and got it off in no time. I zipped through transition and was on my way.
The short mile or so to the seawall is awful. The road is just one big hazard. Thankfully it doesn't last long. You have to go up a very short hill to get to the seawall where you turn right. Someone had duct taped "BIG NASTY" across the hill. It was pretty funny. The seawall, however, was not funny. The wind was coming off the water and I couldn't keep my bike straight. I got very worried that it was going to be the longest, scariest 56 mile ride I'd done. My body hurt trying to keep my bike straight. Sure enough though, when the seawall ended and we were down on the road at sea level, the wind wasn't nearly as bad. I was at a whopping 14.0 avg or something when I got off the seawall, but was able to see that steadily rising as we headed off towards San Luis Pass. I had no idea how much it would rise, or how much I'd get on the way back, but once again I was telling myself (hoping) it was better than last year. I was surprised how crowded the course still was, and the fact that I was actually passing far more people than passed me. That rarely happens. At the last aid station before the turn around some jack a moved right to get a bottle and took a hard left once he had gotten his bottle. Really dude? Really? I yelled a not nice word and yelled "watch out dude!" That, thankfully, was my only near death experience. I was happy to see the turn around and was even happier when the wind in my ears was silent and I had a nice push. Tailwind, is that really you? I was so happy. Last year we had headwind on the way out and then the wind conveniently died down to nothing right around the turn around. It was awesome. Not. I think my average was up to 16.6 at the turn around. It rose to 17.3 very quickly, but as the road went on and I grew tired, it climbed more slowly. By about mile 48 my seat and shoulder had had enough. I was ready to be done. I had pedaled every foot of the last 48 miles - flat is definitely easier than hilly, but the one drawback is you never ever get to stop pedaling. I managed to get my average speed up to 17.7 by the time I turned off the seawall. It wasn't near the 18.5+ I've done in a few other races, but once again, was better than last year. I went down big nasty and held on for dear life as I took the wild ride on that bumpy road. As I got to Moody Gardens I took my feet out of my shoes and pedaled with them on top of my shoes, still attached to my pedals (this is normal for you non-triathletes - it speeds up your transition so you can get off your bike quickly and don't have to run in bike shoes).
All was fine and dandy with my dismount - I slowed enough to gain control, slowly (and gracefully, I might add, toe pointed and all) swung my right leg over the back of my bike and brought it around behind my left leg and hopped off to run alongside my bike. All was still fine. Until my shoe (still on the bike) caught the chip timing mat. My bike went down to the right, and I went down on top of it. My right knee went through the spokes of my front wheel and I was stuck in a very non-graceful mess on the ground on my bike. I couldn't get up. A volunteer came up to help and all I saw was his knees. I put my hands up and said "you're going to have to pick me up." I was stuck. It was awesome. He helped me up, I hoped I said thank you, and I hobbled on into transition. My knee hurt. Bad. I couldn't run. I was so mad because transitions are the one thing I'm usually good at. I racked my bike, put my run shoes on, and made my way to the run start. Looking at my results, I can see my fall time was in my bike time so that 17.7 I'd worked so hard for quickly disappeared. I did manage to hit lap on my garmin before I fell.
Was I really going to do this? 13 miles? Ugh. This began the 13 mile pout. My knee didn't feel the least bit good, but it still seemed somewhat okay to run - better than it had 2 minutes earlier. The run is 4 loops and I told myself to get through the first one and take it from there. I took walk breaks. Lots of them. But surprisingly, when I was running, my pace wasn't that bad. I had originally wanted to run a 2:05-2:10, but that went out the door when my knee went through the wheel. I hobbled along with my bloody knee and still enjoyed seeing all my friends both in the race and on the sidelines. I consistently slowed on each loop, but didn't care. I was doing the best I could, which honestly wasn't all that bad. I ended up finishing the run in 2:17 which I will take. My overall time this year was 3 minutes faster than last year. Last year this was my "A race" and this year I had wanted to do well, but only as well as I could expect while in the thick of training for a full ironman. I had biked 100 and run 18 the weekend before. So I was hardly rested. Granted my PR came after a weekend like that too, but that's another story (one that I can't exactly explain).
When I finished I went to the first aid tent to ice my knee and started to find my friends who had finished. I got to the athlete "tent" and they had potato chips and bananas left. Really? I paid how much for bananas and potato chips? And it wasn't like there were other convenient food options around either. I wasn't exactly happy. Also, the post-race area was just sitting in the middle of a parking lot. No tent. No shade. Hey, you've been in the sun for 7 hours already? Why don't you come sit out here for a few more hours. There is a huge tent structure they use for registration that sat empty. I'm not sure why they moved the post-race stuff this year, but I wasn't a fan. Last year you could sit in the shade under trees along the last few hundred yards of the course and cheer your friends in, this year not so much. I sat down at a table with some friends and found an unopened package of cliff blocks (not mine) and ate them for my post race recovery food. Hardly gratifying, but oh well. My knee stiffened up in no time and didn't so much want to bend. I didn't really care because I was done racing. Most of us were sunburned beyond belief. The first day or two, that worried me more than my knee. I was flaming. And yes, I did wear sunscreen. I've never really had to reapply during a half, but had I known what the end result was going to be I certainly would have taken the time to do so.
Staying Sunday night was a very nice thing to do. We cleaned up and went and relaxed by the pool (in the shade!!). We ate dinner and had a fruity drink or two there then went up to my room and hung out for the rest of the night. Around 9 we decided we were still hungry and ordered pizza. It was pretty funny, but I think we all felt justified doing so considering they ran out of pizza after the race. I had Monday off work which was nice too. I slept in a bit and took my time getting back to Austin. It was nice having a free afternoon/evening at home in Austin too once I got home. That doesn't happen too often.
Monday and Tuesday my knee was HUGE. It wasn't really into the whole bending thing. I live on the 2nd floor, so stairs were fun. I was pretty sure it only hurt from the swelling though, from hitting it on both the lateral and medial sides. There didn't seem to be anything necessarily messed up on the inside of my knee. Wednesday morning I woke up and thought I had a new knee - the swelling had gone way down overnight. I hobbled out a little 3 mile walk/run that morning and it seemed to do okay. I was limping a bit, but the pain still seemed to be related to the swelling/brusing on the areas I hit. Wednesday night, however, I swam and got a pretty yucky feeling. Friday my PT looked at it again and figured I sprained my MCL. The good thing about MCL though is it will pretty much cooperate going forward, just not so much to the side. Fortunately, if I do the tri stuff right, I will only go forward, not to the side. Friday through the day it "wiggled" every 5-6 steps and by the end of the day I was really worried. I think the swelling had been stabilizing it and fooling me in a way. I had a 100 mile ride and 18 mile run on tap for the weekend and was worried how those would go, if they went at all. Fortunately though I made it through those workouts just fine and have had more non-wiggly times than wiggly times over the past few days. I still don't want to pivot, stand on the bike, breast stroke, or tread water, but I don't really have to do all of those things right now anyway. I've been babying my knee and will continue to do so, but I think overall I dodged a huge bullet with this one.
A month later...here are a few pictures from the weekend.
I packed up my car Saturday morning and headed to Galveston. It was smooth sailing until I hit I-45. Surprise, surprise. Once I exited on the island traffic was awful too. All I wanted to do was get there and sit by the pool with Kim. I got checked in and registered and finally made it to the pool, by which time the clouds had come out. Oh well. We went to dinner with several of my Austin friends and had a good time. Kim and I were at the Moody Gardens hotel and Alisa, Mel, Vegas, Rhonda, and Carrie were at the Inn at the Waterpark - the somewhat ghetto but extremely convenient and much cheaper hotel near the entrance to Moody Gardens. With such a late swim wave start, I knew I was going to want a room close, and it was worth the money.
Race morning I headed down to transition to set everything up and then headed back to my room to sit. For over an hour and a half. Transition closed at 6:45 and I didn't start until 8:30. I was not the least bit thrilled about being towards the tail end of the starts for the second year in a row. The girls all came and hung out in my room beforehand too, and we had a good time. We saw the pros on their bikes by 7:25 and I was shocked, and getting excited that maybe the swim conditions were going to be good...or at least they were good at 7.
We put our wetsuits on and made our way to the start and showed up about 5 minutes before we jumped in. I don't like all the pre-race hype, so this worked out perfectly. Mel and I held hands and jumped off the dock into the water. The start was kind of chaotic because they just started counting down before anyone expected it, and several girls had drifted a good distance past the start line. I was not one of them. Oh well. The horn went off and it was time to swim. Immediately the swim was better than last year. Last year I came out of the water a good 7-10 minutes slower than I expected. The longest directional portion of the swim was straight into the wind last year. This year we had a bit of a push on the short way out, then a lovely side wind for the long stretch. It was better than a headwind though. I breathe on both sides, so had trouble breathing to the left, but just kept reminding myself how much better it was going than last year. I felt somewhat strong, but had no real idea how I was doing. I stuck to the buoy line the best that I could and oddly enough I was quite alone. It always amazes me when the packs swim wide - not sure why that happens, but usually I don't have to fight too hard for the buoy line. I made the final turn and had a little trouble getting going - we were straight into the wind at that point. The closer we got the better though because the water was protected. I swam until my hands hit the ramp and ran up it. I checked my watch and saw 37:xx. It certainly wasn't my best, but was far better than the 44:xx I saw last year. I ran to the wetsuit strippers, which were all high school kids, and pointed to the biggest guy I could find, hoping to get someone strong, but he was still probably a whopping 150 lbs at 6'3". He and his friends did a good job though and got it off in no time. I zipped through transition and was on my way.
The short mile or so to the seawall is awful. The road is just one big hazard. Thankfully it doesn't last long. You have to go up a very short hill to get to the seawall where you turn right. Someone had duct taped "BIG NASTY" across the hill. It was pretty funny. The seawall, however, was not funny. The wind was coming off the water and I couldn't keep my bike straight. I got very worried that it was going to be the longest, scariest 56 mile ride I'd done. My body hurt trying to keep my bike straight. Sure enough though, when the seawall ended and we were down on the road at sea level, the wind wasn't nearly as bad. I was at a whopping 14.0 avg or something when I got off the seawall, but was able to see that steadily rising as we headed off towards San Luis Pass. I had no idea how much it would rise, or how much I'd get on the way back, but once again I was telling myself (hoping) it was better than last year. I was surprised how crowded the course still was, and the fact that I was actually passing far more people than passed me. That rarely happens. At the last aid station before the turn around some jack a moved right to get a bottle and took a hard left once he had gotten his bottle. Really dude? Really? I yelled a not nice word and yelled "watch out dude!" That, thankfully, was my only near death experience. I was happy to see the turn around and was even happier when the wind in my ears was silent and I had a nice push. Tailwind, is that really you? I was so happy. Last year we had headwind on the way out and then the wind conveniently died down to nothing right around the turn around. It was awesome. Not. I think my average was up to 16.6 at the turn around. It rose to 17.3 very quickly, but as the road went on and I grew tired, it climbed more slowly. By about mile 48 my seat and shoulder had had enough. I was ready to be done. I had pedaled every foot of the last 48 miles - flat is definitely easier than hilly, but the one drawback is you never ever get to stop pedaling. I managed to get my average speed up to 17.7 by the time I turned off the seawall. It wasn't near the 18.5+ I've done in a few other races, but once again, was better than last year. I went down big nasty and held on for dear life as I took the wild ride on that bumpy road. As I got to Moody Gardens I took my feet out of my shoes and pedaled with them on top of my shoes, still attached to my pedals (this is normal for you non-triathletes - it speeds up your transition so you can get off your bike quickly and don't have to run in bike shoes).
All was fine and dandy with my dismount - I slowed enough to gain control, slowly (and gracefully, I might add, toe pointed and all) swung my right leg over the back of my bike and brought it around behind my left leg and hopped off to run alongside my bike. All was still fine. Until my shoe (still on the bike) caught the chip timing mat. My bike went down to the right, and I went down on top of it. My right knee went through the spokes of my front wheel and I was stuck in a very non-graceful mess on the ground on my bike. I couldn't get up. A volunteer came up to help and all I saw was his knees. I put my hands up and said "you're going to have to pick me up." I was stuck. It was awesome. He helped me up, I hoped I said thank you, and I hobbled on into transition. My knee hurt. Bad. I couldn't run. I was so mad because transitions are the one thing I'm usually good at. I racked my bike, put my run shoes on, and made my way to the run start. Looking at my results, I can see my fall time was in my bike time so that 17.7 I'd worked so hard for quickly disappeared. I did manage to hit lap on my garmin before I fell.
Was I really going to do this? 13 miles? Ugh. This began the 13 mile pout. My knee didn't feel the least bit good, but it still seemed somewhat okay to run - better than it had 2 minutes earlier. The run is 4 loops and I told myself to get through the first one and take it from there. I took walk breaks. Lots of them. But surprisingly, when I was running, my pace wasn't that bad. I had originally wanted to run a 2:05-2:10, but that went out the door when my knee went through the wheel. I hobbled along with my bloody knee and still enjoyed seeing all my friends both in the race and on the sidelines. I consistently slowed on each loop, but didn't care. I was doing the best I could, which honestly wasn't all that bad. I ended up finishing the run in 2:17 which I will take. My overall time this year was 3 minutes faster than last year. Last year this was my "A race" and this year I had wanted to do well, but only as well as I could expect while in the thick of training for a full ironman. I had biked 100 and run 18 the weekend before. So I was hardly rested. Granted my PR came after a weekend like that too, but that's another story (one that I can't exactly explain).
When I finished I went to the first aid tent to ice my knee and started to find my friends who had finished. I got to the athlete "tent" and they had potato chips and bananas left. Really? I paid how much for bananas and potato chips? And it wasn't like there were other convenient food options around either. I wasn't exactly happy. Also, the post-race area was just sitting in the middle of a parking lot. No tent. No shade. Hey, you've been in the sun for 7 hours already? Why don't you come sit out here for a few more hours. There is a huge tent structure they use for registration that sat empty. I'm not sure why they moved the post-race stuff this year, but I wasn't a fan. Last year you could sit in the shade under trees along the last few hundred yards of the course and cheer your friends in, this year not so much. I sat down at a table with some friends and found an unopened package of cliff blocks (not mine) and ate them for my post race recovery food. Hardly gratifying, but oh well. My knee stiffened up in no time and didn't so much want to bend. I didn't really care because I was done racing. Most of us were sunburned beyond belief. The first day or two, that worried me more than my knee. I was flaming. And yes, I did wear sunscreen. I've never really had to reapply during a half, but had I known what the end result was going to be I certainly would have taken the time to do so.
Staying Sunday night was a very nice thing to do. We cleaned up and went and relaxed by the pool (in the shade!!). We ate dinner and had a fruity drink or two there then went up to my room and hung out for the rest of the night. Around 9 we decided we were still hungry and ordered pizza. It was pretty funny, but I think we all felt justified doing so considering they ran out of pizza after the race. I had Monday off work which was nice too. I slept in a bit and took my time getting back to Austin. It was nice having a free afternoon/evening at home in Austin too once I got home. That doesn't happen too often.
Monday and Tuesday my knee was HUGE. It wasn't really into the whole bending thing. I live on the 2nd floor, so stairs were fun. I was pretty sure it only hurt from the swelling though, from hitting it on both the lateral and medial sides. There didn't seem to be anything necessarily messed up on the inside of my knee. Wednesday morning I woke up and thought I had a new knee - the swelling had gone way down overnight. I hobbled out a little 3 mile walk/run that morning and it seemed to do okay. I was limping a bit, but the pain still seemed to be related to the swelling/brusing on the areas I hit. Wednesday night, however, I swam and got a pretty yucky feeling. Friday my PT looked at it again and figured I sprained my MCL. The good thing about MCL though is it will pretty much cooperate going forward, just not so much to the side. Fortunately, if I do the tri stuff right, I will only go forward, not to the side. Friday through the day it "wiggled" every 5-6 steps and by the end of the day I was really worried. I think the swelling had been stabilizing it and fooling me in a way. I had a 100 mile ride and 18 mile run on tap for the weekend and was worried how those would go, if they went at all. Fortunately though I made it through those workouts just fine and have had more non-wiggly times than wiggly times over the past few days. I still don't want to pivot, stand on the bike, breast stroke, or tread water, but I don't really have to do all of those things right now anyway. I've been babying my knee and will continue to do so, but I think overall I dodged a huge bullet with this one.
A month later...here are a few pictures from the weekend.
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