Jess Withrow's Not-So-Breakthrough Race at The Patriot Half
VENI, VIDI, VICI*
I had a score to settle with the Patriot Half course. Going in to Saturday’s race, it was Patriot Bike Course – 1, Jess – 0. I still can’t tell you exactly what happened last year that caused me to crash and ended with me leaving the race in an ambulance. In fact, I was apparently so concussed last year that I swore to JW after the race on Saturday that, “they changed the course because I did NOT see the spot where I wrecked. I looked for it both times and it wasn’t there.” He told me I was wrong. I argued. I told him to check his Garmin files from last year versus this year. They were identical.
Team John+Garmin Files – 1, Jess – 0 (I’m sensing a theme here).
Well. Come hell, high water, and/or a litany of injuries, I was determined to finish this race in any state other than on a stretcher. I will be the first to admit that it was probably a bad idea. I was undertrained, underprepared, and over the past several months my body has been broken in a multitude of ways.
By this point, almost everyone with ears has heard about my back issues that have all but halted my running. Add to that:
- Sesamoiditis as the result of my own idiocy/desire to be somewhat fashionable (ie – I wore heels).
- Sesamoiditis = No More NB Minimus. I had to find new running shoes, stat. I let JW talk me into getting a pair of the shoes he’s been wearing and loves, and consequently…
- ...aggravated a high hammy strain trying to run in these crazy shoes (On Running Cloud Runners, just in case you’re curious – and the hammy strain? Yeah. I didn’t tell anyone about that. People start to look at you funny when you have a multitude of injuries yet remain intent on training for an Ironman). Put simply, I had a difficult time walking let alone running the week of the race.
So… Thursday morning before the race, I took out an old pair of Brooks shoes I had sitting in the closet, cleaned them up, threw them on and hopped on the treadmill with an ace bandage wrapped around my left thigh in hopes that this combination would hold me together long enough to enact my vengeance. Two very slow miles later, I hopped (hobbled) off, convinced this could actually work. Little did I know I had more than 13.1 miles of running with which to be concerned…
Thursday afternoon: I get a call from the local running store. The 110% Quad Sleeves they ordered for me are in. I picked them up, wore them around the house for about three hours, was sufficiently impressed, threw aside all sage advice about not trying anything new on race day and tossed the Quad Sleeves in my bag.
Friday: Kiss the kids goodbye, give the in-laws the number for the pizza place, drive from Jersey to Massachusetts. Stop once for food/facilities and realize my hammy hates me. Spend the rest of the day hanging out at packet pick up, help the RD set up, get some ReserveAid info out, meet and greet with a few teammates… and my hammy hates me even more. Go back to the hotel and sit on ice while eating the pasta that I actually remembered to bring along.
Race morning we were up around 4:45. I think. I was up at whatever time JW decided to roll out of bed before his multiple alarms went off. He wanted to leave around 5:15, but having done this with him enough times to know that JW Time = Time+15, I knew we’d be leaving around 5:30. So I didn’t rush. Pulled the Quad Sleeves on. Got dressed. Fixed my hair. Did my makeup (o.k. – not really… but I probably could have if I’d wanted to). Had my bagel with strawberry jam, Gatorade, and a spoonful of peanut butter. Ate my Powerbar Energy Bites in the car on the way to the race and got mad at myself for eating that spoonful of peanut butter (I do this EVERY time. I eat it, it doesn’t agree with me, and I hate myself until ~mile 10 on the bike).
We parked and pumped tires at the car, then rolled into transition. Several of our friends were already there – what a trip to see all of those Team ReserveAid kits in transition! I vaguely remember EVERYONE asking me if I was nervous. No. Definitely not. I think that’s one of the benefits of being somewhere safely in the middle of the pack. I’m not competing. I’m participating. Zero nerves (now, however, I realize they were asking if I was nervous because of how last year’s race ended for me).
THE SWIM: 53:42 (ouch)
I don’t think I’ve ever had such a low anxiety swim in my life. Ever. Not in the pool, not in open water….. Literally from the word go, I was calm and in my box. Unfortunately, after the fact I learned that my box was a LOT slower than I had expected. I have no one to blame but myself… I’ve been slacking on the swimming big time – if I get in the pool and I feel so much as a tiny little tweak of pain in my back or shoulder, I’m right back out again. So that would explain why every time I’d breath to the right I saw a girl granny stroking just about as fast as I was swimming freestyle. I think I might have to bump swimming up the priority scale a notch over the next few weeks.
T1: 2:42
I was COLD. Shaking, shivering, numb… couldn’t get my fingers to work, couldn’t get the wetsuit off (trust me – spend 53 minutes in a cold lake and that’s what happens).
BIKE: 3:10:30 (again, ouch)
NP: 118W (‘W’ as in WTH???)
IF: 0.67
VI: 1.02
THIS was the one area I was prepared for. I don’t have a current FTP thanks to everything that’s been going on with my body lately (most training has been low intensity and zero testing), but, after going over the data with JW and more or less extrapolating whatever (an ave NP ~145W for my recent 4hr rides) – I figured I could comfortably settle in around 140W and still be fresh for my first double digit run mileage in weeks, and he agreed (and he’s smart, so most of the time, I listen. MOST of the time). So… I had a plan and I was ready to do the one thing I KNEW I could do and had been going well for me. I had plenty of water, so there was no stopping at the aid station: 32oz Aerodrink between the bars, two 24 oz bottles in the X-Lab Sonic Wing and a 24 oz bottle of concentrated Infinit on the downtube. I had two salt sticks and a Powergel ready to go in my bento. My sleek carbon machine was loaded down in just about every way possible.
I ran out of transition to the bike mount, hopped on and BOOM. My quads seized up. I’ve never had this happen before. EVER. I forged on, had my gel, and waited for them to relax, still shivering from all the extra time I spent in the water. They never relaxed. At all. I ran through all of the possibilities in my head… Quad Sleeves? Can’t be. Compression is supposed to be a good thing, right? But then, they were the unknown variable… Cold, maybe? I’m a terrible swimmer (obviously), but the one thing I do have going for me is decent fore/aft balance. I don’t kick – especially in a wetsuit. So my legs were basically hanging out straight out behind me and cold for 53 minutes, and then I asked them to get to work. Maybe that was it? Hmmm. Maybe I should pull a page from the Matty Reed playbook and keep the wetsuit ON the next time? Fact is, I’ve been having great rides during training, and suddenly my legs crap out on me when it mattered most. Thanks, legs. Not much else to say about the bike other than I was pissed the entire way, contemplating giving triathlon up for good, drinking my Infinit and peed seven (SEVEN!!!!!) times.
T2: 2:28
Pulled in to T2 to find my wetsuit straightened out and draped over the rack exactly where I needed to put my bike. This confused me. Which flustered me. I think I said, “What the HELL?” rather loudly, and likely insulted the volunteer that was bored and meant well…. In the end it probably cost me all of ten seconds – which, given the race I was having, was NOT that big of a deal. I need to work on that overreacting thing.
RUN: 2:12:17
This was the big unknown. My only game plan was cross my fingers, hope the Quad Sleeves did their job, walk the aid stations, focus on nailing my nutrition, and hope for something between a 10 and 10:30 pace. That’s more or less how it went. Around mile 5 I remembered what happens to me when I slack on the running – my IT Bands remind me that they’re there. My quads were still on fire from the bike, so I had the Shut Up Legs conversation (to which they replied by sticking their fingers in their ears and doing the, “la-la-la-la-la…. We can’t heaaaaaaar you!” thing), and I kept moving. Shockingly, my back and hamstring were both relatively cooperative. Nonetheless, I’ve never been so happy to see a finish line in my life.
Until…..
JW sees me and tells me, “I was starting to get worried!” Wha….???? All I could do was blink, stare, and say, “did I really do THAT bad?” He said it was just my “history” with this course that had him worried when he didn’t see me earlier. He told me that he didn’t see me cross the finish line because he’d gone back to the car to get his cell, “just in case.” I was bummed because I wanted him to see the chick in the EN kit who was right behind me…. The chick I had seen on the bike and yelled, “GO EN!!!!” The chick who had TOTALLY paced me on the run. And whom I felt really, REALLY bad about passing around that final bend.
Luckily for me (and for JW), Coach P was there waiting for his wife and got video of BOTH of us as we came down the finishing chute….
Yep. That’s who that chick in the EN kit was. WHAT are the chances????
TOTAL TIME: 6:21:37 (*Looks like I still have a score to settle after all!)
Comments
Given your circumstances w/training this year, and the unknowns, this was really a big training day for you and, I'd say, you passed. You now have a better idea where you stand physically and have more trust that your body can perform. But, passing the coach's wife at the last bend - hmmm...that could lead to some bad karma! lol....
Thanks for the encouraging words!
And what's up with all the extraneous business in the post?
I'm with Pete - better be careful of that bad Karma....but then again, I think you pushed that aside from the year before...
Congrats and look forward to your IMNYC report! Let's get the NJ gang together soon!