Dear God, Make Me a Bird, So I Can Fly Far…at Eagleman!

You know when Forrest Gump starts running for the first time in his leg braces? He forcefully bends his legs in a frenzy, willing to move forward despite the metal cages holding him back. That’s exactly how the start of Eagleman 70.3 was, with the first 100 yards of the swim only knee-deep. The cannon went off, and the 12 of us started skipping, hopping, and dolphin diving our way through the first 100 yards. It almost didn’t feel like a race. Once it was deep enough to start swimming, I lost contact with the few women who would have been good to swim with. I proceeded the rest of the race solo through the aptly-named (choppy) Choptank River and covered the 1.2 miles in 31:46 – probably a personal worst for me, but it was my first non-wetsuit legal 70.3, so it was expected.

Ninth out of the water, I jetted through T1 while Beyonce’s “Freedom” blasted on the speakers. It was nearly as good a soundtrack as Forrest Gump! I grabbed my bike and set off for a pancake flat 56 miles, with just 33(!) feet of elevation gain. My first 5 miles were just below 14 minutes, then once I warmed up, the next few 5 mile splits were just below 13 minutes (23.1 mph). I got passed by two women around mile 15-20, but since I was clicking off a fast pace, I didn’t react very much, though I was surprised by how much distance they gained on me. I maintained my perceived effort as my hips started to feel tighter and tighter, pinching at the top of my TFL with every pedalstroke. I tried to take standing breaks during the few turns and massaging them when I could. At mile 45, I had to sit up every few minutes to relieve cramps in my adductors (the inside of my thighs just below my groin). It was more uncomfortable than when Forrest met the president and said he had to pee. (I probably had to pee, too).

Bike: 2:32:53, 22 mph

I entered T2 and could barely swing my leg over my bike. I walked through T2, which was reconfigured to go around 2 of 4 sides of transition during the Bike-In and the other 2 sides of transition for the Run-Out. My adductors were so fiercely cramped that I had to walk through the entire T2. I pathetically whimpered and winced at the pain as I waddled to my rack in transition. The sight of me was sadder than Jenny’s drug addiction. I went through the motions and put on my running shoes (“Take care of your feet,” as Lietuenant Dan says!), an effort that felt completely futile at the time. I finished the tour de transition and walked the other two edges, letting the volunteers put sunblock on me while I rubbed my groin area (which probably looked questionable, now that I think of it).

I ended up with a 7:17 T2, when most of my competitors had a 3 minute T2.

I finally exited transition and started to run, then stopped because it felt like I was ripping every labrum in my hips when lifting my legs. I thought “I can’t run, I’m cramping so bad, this is so stupid! This is so pointless!” And I then decided – and maybe stupid is as stupid does – that I just had to shuffle, not even run, just get my feet off the ground and that I’d probably be going faster than I thought. Nope – my first mile was an 8:32, but my shuffle gradually started to mimic actual running, so I kept at it. 7:07. Then I told myself right then and there (and hence the inspiration for this Forrest Gump theme) that I’d yell at anyone I knew “Lieutenant Dan got new legs!” Now, you wouldn’t believe it if I told you, but miles 3 and 4 were 6:48 and 6:52, and I was told I was in 10^th. The idea of being top 10 pro was reason enough to keep going, so I, yes, like Forrest, just. kept. running! After an aid station at mile 5, I started running side-by-side with a man running the exact same pace as me. I was so relieved and happy to be running that I felt content to continue whatever pace we were both running, which was 6:57 pace, like clockwork, even with slowing down through aid stations at every opportunity. We chatted a little bit and it turns out he is from Alabama and has his own shrimp boat! Just kidding, but we ran side-by-side from mile 5 until 11. I was so excited to finish that I ran slightly faster, 6:49 and 6:38 for my final two miles.

I finished the run with a 1:32:01 for 7:02 average pace.

 

I finished the half ironman in 4:46:25 for 10^th place pro woman (#11 and 12 ended up dropping out, so I could have walked and still been 10^th). BUT! It was a two minute PR. Given this was over 2500 feet less elevation gain than each of my previous two half ironmans this year, a PR was more or less expected. However, it is not lost on me that this was still the fastest my body has ever covered the distance, and my momma always said that I cannot ever lose sight of a PR.

I’m nursing some strained hip flexors at the moment, but I’m glad I didn’t drop out. You never know when the body is going to “come around,” and I’m fortunate that it was one of those times that it actually did. There’s also always the fear that if I start dropping out of races, it will get easier and easier to do so. I also learned to not underestimate flat courses, because you’re using the same muscles the entire time! So next up: A bit hillier of a course with the NYC Triathlon on Sunday, July 1.

That’s all I have to say about that.