Merry at the Cherry Capital Traverse City 70.3

“Some guys get all the luck

Some guys get all the pain

Some guys get all the breaks

Some guys do nothing but complain

Woahwoahwoah” -Rod Stewart

I was in an unusually goofy mood leading up to the start of the Traverse City 70.3. It was the inaugural year for the event, and there was a lightness to the mood as the pros lined up for the swim start after our warmup.

Joking on pause during the national anthem. Photo courtesy of Team Stellafly.

The Rod Stewart hit played on.

“Is this your song?!” I asked Curtis, a fellow male pro. “Did you make this soundtrack?” I asked the Ironman swim course director. “Yeah, we should get some reggae up in here, maybe some Amy Grant, some Christian rock!” Not the answer I expected to hear, but I laughed anyway.

The day before, I had spent nearly all day by the race area, doing my fair share of shopping at the cute stores and buying a ton of cherry-related food. Traverse City is the “Cherry Capital of the World,” so many shops and souvenirs are cherry-themed. To add to the cuteness, my host was a 71 year-old woman who picked me up at the airport and welcomed me in her home with her sweet dog, a half corgi, half fox named Pearl.

In addition to a short run and ride, I attended the pro athlete briefing. We were advised that a “gator” would be on the run course. Having little knowledge of northern Michigan’s reptile population and unaware of this word used for anything else, I asked what a gator was and received some laughs from about the room.

We were lined up at the start, jumping up and down to stay warm as the announcer acknowledged that the pro women looked antsy. I threw my hands up in the air and waved like an inflatable at a car dealership to show that I was excited, not nervous.

The cannon went boom and so did the front row of women, which was everyone but me. I lined up in the second row, and it felt like a good 10 seconds (it was probably 1.5) before there was clearance for me to plop in and latch on to some feet in front of me (and honestly I dont know why I’d been wasting my energy in previous races – starting with everyone in the front row, only to hook arms, have my goggles inadvertently smacked or kicked and purposely falling back behind someone to get a draft – in the first place!)

Still thinking about that Amy Grant comment. Photo by Team Stellafly

I was right behind feet for the first third of the race. After that, I saw a woman 5 yards ahead of me and I did what felt like 1:20/100 to get closer to her for five minutes but wasn’t making up any ground. It was like I had fallen asleep during beverage service on the plane and she was the beverage cart getting further and further away.

I focused on my form for the next 2/3 of the race and nearly went off-course when I started sighting for the first buoy after the final turn instead of the last buoy before the final turn. A paddleboarder redirected me and the next volunteer in a kayak said “you look so composed, great job!” which almost sounded patronizing but I’ll take it as a compliment that I stayed composed after a mistake that cost me 20-30 seconds.

My face when I look at any menu for the first time. Photo courtesy of higgybabyphotography

I exited the water and crossed the timing mat in sub-30: 29:59! I ran through the tunnel that goes under TC’s “West Side Highway” and into T1.

The bike begins with one flat mile and three miles with a 5% climb. After that, it’s a lot of rolling hills, 3300 feet worth. I got passed by Brittany Higgins around mile 5 and never saw her again. She was moving!

There were spectators in the most unexpected, desolate areas. The scenery was bucolic and traversed mostly farmland. The most memorable part was a man with a large plastic garbage can lying on its side with the opening facing away from the man. The man was rhythmically wacking the butt of the can with a large stick every 4-5 seconds. This man is my spirit animal.

Different outfit. Same bike. Photo by Laurel Wassner

The course was one loop with one out-and-back at mile 35, where I could finally get a gauge of how far behind the leaders I was in the race. Imagine my surprise when I saw 5 women all within less than a minute of each other going by the opposite way. I figured maybe there was significant passing as we all got a good vantage point with the U-turn, but I later heard that the pack was fairly condensed for the majority of the race. Women 2nd through 6th all got out of the water together and all biked a 2:34-2:35. I biked a 2:41.

Summertime in Northern Michigan

Other than Brittany and the passers-by on the U-turn, I didn’t see another woman the entire race. I estimated a 6-7 minute deficit at the U-turn and didn’t lose any additional time by the end of the ride. I pulled into T2 and set out for the run.

The course was a mile run to a lake, an out-and-back on the east side of a lake, an out-and-back on the west side of the lake, and back (almost) to T2. Repeat. It was like running the perimeter of a capital ‘Y’, so you had three chances per lap to see the gap between you and the competition.

I counted women and thought I was in 9th place with lots of opportunity to make up a few spots. The course had just enough hills, turns, and changes in terrain to keep it interesting. Every time I wanted to slow down, a kink in the path, a change from pavement to dirt, or a u-turn would shake things up. I was also running with my eyes up and looking for the next person to catch, which made the run an engaging, nonstop chase.

I ran between 6:30 and 6:40 consistently and caught 3 women. At times I’d get excited, like the time I ran a 6:22 when Curtis passed me and carved a path, as a lot of incoming traffic on the skinny bike path caused challenges when runners didn’t stay left. I saw Bec ahead after the u-turns and was psyched she was doing so well! I thought I’d run myself into the top 6, but I found out shortly upon finishing (because random spectators never tell you what place you’re in!) that I was in 9th.

I suppose the promise of placing in the top 6, the hope of a goal met is what kept me running hard. It makes one wonder what else one could do if one was told they’re doing better than one actually is. Of course, a blatant lie could make one complacent and have the opposite effect, but there’s something to be said for feeling the motivation of a job being well done in the moment, while the outcome is still unfolding.

Also, shoutout to all of the age group men who rooted me on during the run. I don’t miss you starting so close to the pro women and getting ego-bruised and retaliation-hungry when I pass you on the bike, but now that you start ten minutes after us pro women, it’s really nice to get the cheers on the run, and I’ll always mutter a “you too!” or a “thanks” back.

All the cheers and chasing led to a sub-1:26 finish: 1:25:59.

How obvious is it that I cut the ends of my braids because they were too long? Feels too late to ask.

My flight that evening was canceled, so Prscilla and I drove the peninsula where beautiful homes and wineries on Lake Michigan are. We went to a restaurant with local wine to have a drink. We got to know each other better, talked about each other’s boyfriends (yes, she has one!), and she is now my legally adopted grandmother. Which is convenient (spooky?) because my mother’s mother was named Priscilla.

You’re getting Instagram stories because my phone died for good before backing up. 😕

Fresh with newly claimed relatives, I loved my visit to TC and could totally see myself going back for a girls’ weekend or triathlon, and not just because I have place to stay at Cilla’s whenever I want! I did all I could athletically speaking on the day and that’s all this cherry-loving girl could ask for.

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