It’s already been over three weeks since my race at the Chattanooga 70.3. I thought I’d have a comprehensive analysis of my race by this point, but since I waited weeks to write it all down, I can’t exactly remember the play-by-play. (Not that anyone wants a play-by-play of a 4.7 hour race! “So I unclipped my helmet and lifted it in an upward motion…”)
So I’ll recap what I do remember. I remember having a lovely trip with my racewife, Cecilia, from NYC to Chattanooga. I remember having the most wonderful hosts, Rick and Katie, who are a reason I’m already considering coming back for the race next year. I remember being concerned about the projected 89 degrees on race day after a very cool spring in NYC. Finally, I remember feeling very pleased with my performance after I crossed the finish line.
That is, until I saw my swim and bike splits compared to my competitors.
Race Day
After a reasonable 4:30am wakeup, Rick drove me, Cecilia, and his wife, Katie, to the race venue. I set up my transition area from 5:30am through 5:45am and was done with plenty of time to take a bus 2 miles to the swim start. While I waited for Cecilia, I pumped tires for a fellow pro (and convinced her that 110 PSI was far too high!), helped Cecilia get settled, and witnessed the rest of the pro field scurry around adjusting every piece of equipment. It made me feel like the most Type B ever by comparison.
We walked down to the dock for our in-water start in the Tennessee River. The course began with 300 yards upstream. The current was much less severe than the day prior….at least during the warmup. I misjudged the current beyond the area that I warmed up in, which was protected by a chunk of land upstream. Once the race started and the group was past this point, I lost all contact with the group. I thought I could put in a surge or wait until congestion of the turn buoy to catch back up, but it didn’t happen. It was like trying to catch a bus that happens to catch all green lights.
Swim: 29:06, 21/27 female pro
I was a little bummed coming out of the water but ready to refocus on the bike.
I thought I was shifting well on the rolling course and staying in aero whenever it provided an advantage. I thought I was Alberto Bettiol, but I was riding more like Fat Albert. I passed one woman in the last mile of the race, and that was the extent to which I saw other women on the course. I saw my 5 mile splits between 13 and 14 minutes and was like, “yes, I’m doing great for 1600 feet of climbing!” I even told myself that I perhaps even made up some time despite not passing anyone, and I’d have more chances on the run. My optimism knows no bounds!
As helpful as positive self-talk is, too much can make one delusional. My only cue for performance aside from 5 mile splits was the fact that I was barely passing anyone, a signal that I should have taken to heart.
Bike: 2:36, 21/27 female pros
I was on the verge of cramping in my left hamstring for the last 10 miles of the bike, which I took as an indication that I was pushing enough. I ran about 10 minute pace out of transition and loosened up just in time for the climb out of the race area. I felt like I had stepped in gum and couldn’t lift my feet quickly enough.
It was about 10-11:30am that I was on the run course, so temps started to creep up to the low 80s. While this isn’t terribly hot, it’s a lot hotter than the 50s and 60s we’d had in NYC since February!
The run course, with 800 feet of gain total, was pretty relentless; you were either running a cruel, steep hill or a flat out-and-back where you could see your competition. I look two cups of water at every aid station – one to drink and one to pour on my head (only once did I inadvertently rinse my hair with Gatorade!). I grabbed ice when I could – twice each loop – and poured it into my hat.
I plugged away on the run, averaging 6:50-7:00 per mile, ranging from 6:36 for the net downhill miles and 7:30 for the net uphill ones. I passed a girl, then another. With the three out-and-backs per loop, I could frequently see my competition ahead. While I knew I was well outside the top 10, each woman I passed gave me a boost. My internal optimism persuaded me that I could get a top 10 spot if only 6 women ahead passed out from the heat, the mercury well into the high 80s by the run’s end.
Run: 1:30:42 for 4:42 & 16/27 pro overall
Immediately after the race, I felt like I had a solid performance. Then I compared my splits to others. And suddenly, I didn’t feel as accomplished. I felt less than, like I had underperformed. I texted Coach Cane and said that I changed my mind about my race, that I no longer was happy with it.
What happened in the moments between the finish and the analysis? What changed my mind?
I compared. I let other women’s performances determine how I should feel about my race. Rather than looking at my own splits and effort, I looked externally, and I immediately dismissed the effort that I had just put in for the last several hours.
While I still feel somewhat ambivalent about my race, the takeaways aren’t totally inconclusive. I’m going to pilot using a power meter on my tri bike so that I have unbiased data to draw from, rather than letting my comparison against my competitors dictate how I should feel about my performance. I use power for my indoor workouts on the Wahoo KICKR, so I have a benchmark of what is considered a good performance.
I’m going to get more open water swim practice and work on surging when I need to rejoin the group. I rarely work the extremes of my stroke, always in favor of threshold effort, but having a bit more explosiveness in my swim speed will help me bridge the gap when the group starts to drift away. (This is not to be confused with eh ability to build a physical bridge on which I could run and catch up.)
I may soon forget the sour feelings I had after the race, but I will remember the initial pride I had for finishing. I’ll remember how well I shifted my bike and stood up when the grade was steep. I’ll remember how much I kept pushing myself on the run, in relentless pursuit and hope to catch fading competitors. I’ll remember that I didn’t go to bed that night leaving anything to chance.
Thanks to Aaptiv for the opportunity to travel and race, nuun for keeping me hydrated (and head covered! and thighs tatted!), Pickybars for keeping me fueled – Chai & Catch me is my flavor of the month, and Zealios for keeping me from sunburn and chafing! Thanks to TYR for the super fast swim skin and mirrored goggles, Central Park Track Club New Balance for the best teammates and training/racing shoes, and City Coach for the workouts, support, and evaluating my physiology in-and-out.