Second Year Season Finale

The 4:30am alarm felt strange on a Sunday morning, but the blue-hued, artificially bright lights in the hallway felt even stranger. We tiptoed through the stairwell, careful not to bang the bike on anyone’s door while navigating the tight turns. At this hour in NYC, anyone could be waking up or just going to bed.

We drove across the GWB. Even the busiest bridge in America has its lulls. No one was on the road, and even less people were on the Palisades Parkway. We arrived at the race site in Harriman State Park at 5:40am. Despite my 6:45am start, all I wanted to do was sleep and avoid the impending 4.5 hours of effort.

Swim

The start was a run-in start from the water’s edge. With ten athletes in the elite start, I had feet for about 42 seconds. For the 42 seconds of sprinting, my whole body felt like it had a velcro blood pressure cuff on it.

After losing feet (it would turn out my closest competitor was 3 minutes faster), I settled into my usual “not giving up just yet” pace and sighted for buoys and feet. Someone from the second wave passed me, and I thought it was my second chance! Well, some things, like Full House, Lance, and used bandaids don’t deserve a second chance. My swimming carrot came and went and left me in its wake.

Swim: 32:08

Bike

My visor was foggier than my memory of being a cheerleader (I was 9 years old and it was the only fall sport!). As I ran out of T1 pushing my bike, I tried to look out below my visor, then through the vents at the top of my visor, and then I did a full swipe of the outside and inside of my visor so I could just barely see the lines on the road. I looked calm on the outside but I was practically walking, quite rattled as I tried to problem solve with one hand on my saddle while the other fiddled with my visor. I needed my vision for the next four miles more than any other stretch of the race.

The first four miles featured large cracks (more like gaps!), potholes, bygone repairs of older potholes, and grass peeping out of open seams in the pavement every 10 feet. My bike rattled and so did my brains. My chain slapped the chainstay. After each crack and bump, I pedaled 1/8th of a turn before my feet found tension on the chain again.

Once I turned onto 7 Lakes Drive – where two out-and-backs make up the next 48 miles – it was time to hold a consistent effort; the road was smooth. I gave my visor one final swipe on the inside with my middle finger that I could barely squeeze between my face and the visor.

I saw Colin three more miles up the road, and like a good boyfriend, he told me I looked good and he loved me. Like a bad race informant, he told me I looked good and he loved me. I think my reaction says it all:

But for real, it wouldn’t have helped to tell me at this point about my eight minute deficit off the bike. It was too early to strategize differently than my plan to do my own race, ride smart, and ride consistently like last year, where I won after a 14 minute deficit off the bike. Up to this point, this year was no different, wth Bec in the lead.

The next time I saw Colin, he reminded me of this strategy assigned by Coach Cane. I saw Bec on three of the next four U-turns and noticed the deficit wasnt as big as last year’s. I also noticed a woman not far behind me on the final U-turn. I suddenly had double the ladies to worry about!

I rode the final four miles of that damn minefield again into T2. I saw my parents and Coach Cane there, which is always a treat.

My first 24 mile loop was 1:09:58. My second was a 1:10:05.

2:47:40, 3330 feet of gain, 20.5 mph

Run

The first mile is flat for a half mile and then goes into a steep -10% downhill followed by a U-turn. I missed the U-turn and continued for 10 yards before the volunteers corrected me. I hit a 7:25 for a net uphill second mile and descended at 1-2% for the next 5 miles. It was warming up, and the difference between the sun and shade was growing faster than my love for Lizzo (she’s so awesome and I aspire to have her confidence!)

At the U-turn, I estimated that Bec was a mile ahead and the 3rd place woman was a minute behind. Too close for comfort. I kept pushing on for the next five miles using perceived rate of exertion as my guide. Having run a 6:59 average last year, ticking off 6:40s was assuredly faster, and I couldn’t imagine getting caught, but I always respect the competition.

I kept thinking about holding good form (thanks to my Motiv NY exercises and Aaptiv ab workouts!) I thought about seeing my parents, Coach Cane, and Colin again at mile 10. I thought about how I didn’t have to put myself through another half marathon on tired legs for several months after this. I thought about how accomplished I’d feel before sitting on a plane to Dallas for a work trip later that day and I thought about all of the meetings I’d have the next three days. Most of all, I thought about how badly I wanted it to be mile 13.

Upon seeing my fan fam at mile 10, they said I looked strong. No time gap. They weren’t wrong, though; I did feel damn strong. After the 5 miles of uphill, I hit the flat mile 10 and ran a 6:35.

The final 3 miles were an out-and-back on the other side of Lake Welch. I saw Bec at mile 11 (which was her mile 12) and decided back-to-back 3:30 miles weren’t in the cards.😋 Still wary of the woman behind me, I did my final race calculation after the final U-turn at mile 11.5 and determined I put another minute on her. I’d be damned if I was to get caught at that point!

1:28:01, 6:45 pace, 907 feet of gain

I finished second in 4:50:26, 2:06 faster than last year.

One of the things about the Toughman races I love is the laid back atmosphere which lends itself to a true sense of community. There is a delicious barbecue for the athletes which is free to everyone else once everyone has had their first plate. There is a bounce house for the kiddos and a free beer tent with two kegs. I met several athletes in town from Chile, including third place Piera (“Piera tercera!”) who nearly chased me down!

Bec (& James on the men’s side!) did a fantastic champagne spray and we accepted our flowers and plaques. Having the typical post-race hunger, I needed to eat in two hour intervals, so me, Colin, and my parents went to the Mount Ivy diner to celebrate the completion of my second pro season.

Sometimes trying your best leaves you second best. But what more could I give than my best?

My damned best.