Zwift: Where Have You Been All My Life?

I started working with a coach in 2010 and shortly after that I bought an indoor trainer for my bike. It would be great for intervals, strength training, and workouts that required hitting certain heart rate zones and later, watts. It was an essential, invaluable tool for becoming the triathlete that I wanted to be.

Except that I hated riding on it.

I hated riding on the trainer so much that I basically only used it if it was too dark to ride outside. Weather-wise, you could ride outside pretty much year-round in San Antonio. I knew a perfect flat, long road to do intervals on (Castroville!!). I remember multiple arguments with my beautiful, well-meaning, now bestie of a coach who insisted that I do certain workouts on the trainer and lost her patience with me when I repeatedly refused.

Not only was it boring to ride on the trainer, but because it was boring, it felt impossible to hit the heart rate zones and watts that I was being instructed to aim for. Sometimes loud angry music would help but usually my trainer rides were an exercise in trying to maintain focus (which I suppose is also a skill) and counting the minutes until it was over.

So, for the last five years when everyone has talked about how great Zwift is, I've resisted, feeling superior: riding outside is always better than riding inside, only weenies ride indoors because of bad weather. My trainer was gathering dust in the closet and I intended to keep it that way. I resisted with the same stubbornness as when I refused to watch "Forrest Gump" because everyone said it was a really good movie. 

After a few indoor rides of his own this winter, Trent insisted that I would love Zwift and that I should try it. He enticed me with the idea that we could ride "together" even while we're living in different states. So when my friend bought a Peloton and sold her Wahoo Kickr Snap at a bargain price, I snapped (heh) it up. I brought it with me to Kansas City for the Christmas break so that Trent could help me set everything up and we could ride together in his basement.

Zwift! Where have you been all my life?

For a $15/month subscription, you have access to workouts that encourage you to hit certain watts/cadence/heartrate depending on what you're training for. The smart trainer adjusts the resistance for you, making it challenging and interesting. It does the same thing when you're not doing a set workout - it adjusts the resistance to make it feel like you really are riding up and down hills. It's amazing how much more interesting and therefore mentally easier it is to ride like this than on a "dumb" trainer. 

And just like that, the Felty is back on the trainer.

Then there's all the video game aspects that appeal to your brain's reward center - you level up, you earn new kits and helmets and socks. Your energy output is measured in number of pizza slices earned. It's fun!

The best part about Zwift for me is being able to ride "with" friends. I have a weekly date with two of my besties who live in two different cities in Texas; another friend from down the road also joins from time to time. I started my Zwift experience this year with Orissa and Linda on the Tour de Zwift, an event where you got to pick a different stage every week and ride with other people from all over the world. We discovered that these events often have a separate women's ride and we've learned that we prefer those. 

The Zwift folks seem really plugged into the cycling and triathlon communities - there's a Norseman challenge coming up next month and I can't wait! I'm writing this as I wait for today's event to start. Yes, I could bundle up and go ride outside today. But I signed up for the three-day Haute Route challenge and today is Stage 2 and I'm looking forward to it.

Well, "Forrest Gump" is now one of my favorite movies of all time. I admitted I was wrong then, and I'm admitting I was wrong now. Trent was right. I love riding on Zwift. And now I'm going to be relentless about getting all of my friends on Zwift too, so that we can all ride together. Ride on!

Fuck Politeness: Safety First

I met you through friends that I trust.

I was nice to you because I was brought up to be a friendly, kind person. 

At first, I took your offer of friendship at face value. You were nice.

You said things that made me feel uncomfortable. I was polite.

You put me in a situation that made me feel unsafe. I extracted myself from it using caution, making sure not to let you know that I thought anything was wrong.

I made excuses not to see you, especially not alone, anymore. I tried not to be rude.

I set boundaries. You pushed them, tested them, tried to cross them. Tried to make me take them back.

I distanced myself as much as possible without being outwardly rude. You kept contacting me.

I decided it was okay to be rude. I ignored your calls and texts. I unfriended you. I blocked you. You continued.

Now, I'm afraid of you. I'm afraid that you're going to come to my home and hurt me and kill me, because that's what happens. It's a pattern, it escalates: we have all learned this. All of us have learned this but we still give the you benefit of the doubt. Until we don't.

I'm afraid of you. Read that again: I'm afraid of you. That is not hyperbole. I am not being dramatic. I am afraid of you, whether you're actually dangerous or not.

Now, I'll think twice before I'm open and kind and friendly and nice to any man I don't know. Forever. 

I'm just a being nice guy, you think. She's misinterpreting my words and my actions, you think. I just wanted to be friends, you think. But I'm trusting my instinct on this one. Even one story about "the nice guy who snapped" is one too many. So as the podcast says, Fuck Politeness. Fuck politeness: safety first. Even at the risk of you thinking I'm not a nice person.

If you're reading this and wondering if you're the guy I'm talking about? Yes, you are. And if you're reading this and thinking that sucks for all the really nice, harmless, well-intentioned guys out there, like me? Yes, it does.

Green is always for Mary, who I didn't know well, but who inspired everyone she met. 💚

Odyssey Swimrun Austin Race Report 2020

I didn't think I'd get to post a race report in 2020. Like everyone else as the months of this endless year dragged by, I watched my races get cancelled or deferred: a half marathon in Kansas City, Ironman St. George, the Leadville Marathon. Yes, I know in the scheme of things that cancelled races are a tiny inconsequential thing. But for someone who has built a whole lot of their happiness around training and racing, it was just another sign for me that the world was ending. With more curiosity than hope, I kept my eye on Odyssey Swimrun Austin, for which my friends and I had joyfully signed up more than a year in advance. Eventually it looked like the race was definitely ON so I purchased my $57 ticket (!!!) to fly to Texas and we booked rooms at a hotel near the race venue. 

Add to the many reasons that I love my friends: we met up at a Whataburger to kick off the weekend!

Pre-race shenanigans. Aixa, Sanaa, Orissa, and Julia raced the short course and I'm certain they're hooked on swimrun now too!

This was the first swimrun race in Texas and it was organized by the same company that put on the Orcas Island race that was so amazing two years ago. When the inaugural Austin race open for registration last year and it happened to take place on Linda's birthday, it was a no brainer that I'd fly home to race it. Linda and I signed up immediately as Team SUPERSTOKED. We'd picked the long course which was made up of approximately 13 miles of running and 5 miles of swimming broken into 13 segments. This would be Linda's first swimrun experience.

One of the long course competitors made stickers with the distances of each leg for everyone to use. Look how cute the little cliff-jumping figure is.

Team SUPERSTOKED: masked up at the time trial start for safety.

As we took off at the 7 am time trial start, I immediately regretted that I'd spent the last six months "exercising" while Linda had spent the time training. I huffed and puffed beside her through the first 2-mile run, and as we entered the first swim of the day in the Colorado River, I realized that I had only one gear for swimming and it was much slower than hers. So I got on her feet and just tried to stay there for the rest of the race.

Linda and I are running on the left in this picture. I am SUPERSTOKED that our picture made it into a Slowtwitch gallery! Photo by Aaron Palaian.

We made a good team. We worked our way through the day together, watching the fluttering yellow and orange course markers and only going off course once. We decided to make a "game time" decision at the optional 30-foot cliff jump - we jumped and it was probably the coolest experience of the whole race. We scrambled up rocks and navigated rooty, rocky trails. We entered the swims with joy - it was a warm day and we were grateful for the cool water (62 degrees) on each swim entry. Linda pushed the pace on both the swim and the run, and I gamely followed. I pushed us to move quickly through aid stations and transitions.

Linda dragged me around the course for four hours until she got tired too, and then we cussed our way together to the end of the race for the last half hour. Our middle of the pack finish was so exciting for me that I ran across the finish line and practically tackled one of the race directors, yelling, "Lars! I came in last place at Orcas Island!" to which he charitably replied, "well you're definitely not in last place today." 

Mom and Dad drove over to cheer (and kept their distance for safety). The last time I saw them in person was for the Kerrville Tri last September, so this was just the most amazing treat at the end of the race.

Swimrun Austin was the only swimrun event that took place in the United States this year and I'm so grateful that it did. To steal a phrase from the Low Tide Boyz podcast, for the first time in months, for four and a half hours on this race course in Texas, life felt completely normal. It was as if the pandemic and the election and everything else had just been placed on hold for a few hours, and it was exactly what I needed. Now I'm sitting here writing a race report with a full heart after seeing my friends and family in Texas in the familiar environment of an endurance race venue. It can't get much better than that.

Awesome finisher's sweatshirt that I've now been wearing for 6 days straight.

California International Marathon Race Report: Brave or Stupid?

As usual, I've started and deleted several posts about the California International Marathon, the race that I trained for all year in 2019. A few posts started with "I tried and failed, but at least I was brave enough to try." I couldn't complete those because I'm still questioning whether I was brave or stupid, or maybe both.

I started 2019 with the goal of running a Boston-qualifying time at CIM. CIM is a point-to-point race from Folsom, CA to Sacramento. It's known for producing PRs, BQs, and OTQs. Last February, I ran a "test race" marathon in Mesa, AZ, on a downhill, "easy to qualify" course. I went out at my BQ pace of 8:50 and blew up around 13 miles. I knew I had my work cut out for me for CIM in December. 

Over the next 9 months, I trained hard. I ran more miles last year than I've ever run in my life. I got stronger and faster. I earned new PRs at the 10K and half marathon distances. I prepared as well as I could. But my times on my training runs weren't fast enough to go into CIM confident about a BQ and I knew it would take a perfect day to achieve running 26.2 miles at BQ pace. But it was just so tempting. My previous best marathon time was 3:51 and my age group's BQ time is 3:50. If I got just a one minute marathon PR, I'd also get a BQ. It was sooooo tempting.

Kudos to my coach, Nell Rojas, for being very patient with me when I claimed that that was what I was going to try to do. She told me that if I ran conservatively in the first part of the race I could definitely run sub-4. But that's not what I wanted: I wanted 3:50. Because I tried for 3:50, I ended up with a 4:14. I ran strong for 12ish miles, started to try to hang on from 12 to mile 19, where I knew the hills would end. I expected it to be downhill from there, which might help me pick up the pace again...but it wasn't downhill. It was flat. I lost all momentum and fell off my pace. If my amazing friend Shelly hadn't caught up with me at mile 24 and dragged me to the finish, I would probably have run 10 minutes slower! 

Pre-race with Orissa and Shelly. This race was very well organized, including the buses to the start and the many many porta-potties available before and during the race (porta potties! Porta potties everywhere!).

Feeling happy before mile 13.

I wasn't unhappy with my time. I had a lot of fun running the first half of the race with Shelly and I felt like I could fight until mile 19, which is an improvement over my performance in Arizona in February. I missed my time goal by nearly half an hour, but I ran faster than the race in Phoenix, which means I'm getting stronger. 

So I still don't know if I was brave or stupid to race for a goal that is currently outside of my limits. After the race, Nell and I debriefed and she talked to me about the importance of patience: I'm improving, I'll get there, it will take time. We talked about how you should never hope for a miracle on race day - you should never hope to have a breakout race to get a goal. You should prepare and be ready and confident about what you can do.

Of course I know this is true. Every coach I've had has told me this. But after 15 years and 20 marathons, I still needed this reminder from Nell. How many times have I had to hear that I should be focused on the process and not on a specific time goal? Focus on the process and improvement will come.

Having a specific time to race for makes this difficult. It's not like triathlon, where it's understood that times at different races will vary because of the terrain and conditions. At an Ironman, there is no set time for each age group for a Kona qualification - you race against your competitors on that day and that's how it goes. In some ways I know that makes it mentally harder, but it also takes off some of the pressure. You can say "I'm going to do my best today" and then you do it.

So, what's next? Winning a slot to Ironman St. George through my awesome triathlon team, Big Sexy Racing, is probably the best thing that could have happened to me right now. I have no choice but to focus on the process and see what I can do with the bike/triathlon fitness that I can build between now and May. 

For the first time ever, I'm going into a season where I'm doing an ironman but it's not my "A" race. I decided that in order to focus on process and improve my skill at racing a marathon, I need to stop signing up for "easy BQ" races. My next stand alone road marathon race will be the Kansas City Marathon in October. Between now and then, I'll "race" two more marathons - one at the end of Ironman St. George in May, and one on the trails around Leadville in June. Let's see if I learn anything along the way.

It was so much fun to look forward to a girls' trip to Sacramento all year. Racing with friends and having friends on the course for support was priceless! Thank you to Aixa and Sanaa for being awesome Sherpas!

Kansas City Half Marathon Race Report: When You Know You Can Do It, You Can Do It

Nearly a month has passed since the Kansas City Marathon where I ran a 1:55 and earned a five minute half marathon PR. I went under two hours at a half marathon race for the first time since my first attempt at the distance in 2005. It's taken me a few weeks to write about it because I'm not really sure what to say. Here's what's in my head: It's not really even that good a time. It shouldn't have taken this long to achieve this. I've been capable of this for a really long time.

I haven't run that many stand-alone half marathons. I've run almost 20 of them at the end of a half ironman, and I've grazed the 2:00 mark a few times - my personal best time previous to this was 2:00:27 at Buffalo Springs in 2014. I've run 3 sub-4 hour marathons, which means I've run at least the first half of 3 marathons in under two hours. Logically, I thought, if I just enter a half marathon and try to run it in under two hours, I should be able to do it. In the spring of 2017, I decided to make it an actual goal for the season. And then for the next 3 years, every time I tried, I failed.

The Conditional PR
I just moved to Colorado, I'm not acclimated to the altitude, I thought. I'm just getting older. This must be what happens after 40. A friend of mine, Shannan, confirmed this suspicion. She told me that she used to run a lot faster, but after moving to Colorado and getting a little bit older, she too has slowed down. "We just have to be positive about our achievements in the present," she advised, "we can't compare ourselves to our younger, faster selves. Instead, let's say, this is my 'I'm over 40 and I moved to Colorado' PR!" Shannan is a gifted athlete and is significantly faster than me. If she was feeling this way, I could definitely take joy in my post-move, over-40 achievements. So that's what I did. This May at the Colfax Half in Denver, I got closer to the elusive two-hour mark than ever in recent times. On Facebook I happily chirped about my 2:03, my "fastest half since moving to Denver and turning 40!" A conditional PR.

Training
I've been doing a lot of running since May. For some reason, I have no problem believing that I can run a fast marathon, and I decided to focus this year on earning a marathon PR at the California International Marathon (CIM) which is coming up in about a month. (Because my age group has changed, just a one-minute marathon PR will earn me a BQ, so there's also that.)

My coach Nell Rojas pointed out early in the season that after a year of ultrarunning and all these years of ironman training, I seem to be pretty durable. I should be able to take on a lot of running volume. Let's give it a try. Mix in some fast track and tempo sessions, and I should get faster too. So that's what we did. I've been running more this year than I've ever run in my life.

Because 90% of what I achieve seems to come from what's in my head than what my legs are capable of, the midweek speed sessions are the ones that have really made a difference. In August, I remember seeing a midweek tempo workout with difficult descending times in it, then thinking, well, I'll try it, the worst that can happen is I walk home. I surprised myself by nailing the workout. Two weeks later when it appeared on my plan again, I thought, I can definitely do this. And I did. What a thrilling lesson to learn: when you know you can do it, you can do it. It's true! I really want everyone who reads this to walk away knowing that this is true!

When You Know You Can Do It...
In early October, my friends from Texas, Morgan and Mack, came to the Denver area on vacation. Morgan asked if we could get together and run; coincidentally I had registered for a trail 10K that weekend so they decided to race it too. Like Shannan, Morgan is a significantly faster runner than me. We follow each other on Strava and Instagram and she inspires me daily with her speed, tenacity, and dedication as she works towards her own marathon goal.

Thrilled to run with Morgan and Mack!

On race day, I looked around for Morgan and Mack, but didn't see them. I started the race by myself, and after several minutes passed, Morgan ran up beside me. They had started a few minutes late. We chatted for a minute and I told her not to let me hold her back. She and Mack (with his selfie stick!) ran ahead. My watch beeped with the time for that mile: 8:20. Whoops. That was faster than I was supposed to start, but was right around the same pace as those midweek intervals I'd been running. Morgan wasn't running away from me as fast as I'd expected. I'll try to hold on to this pace, I thought, let me try to keep Morgan in sight. And I did! Because (say it with me) when you know you can do it, you can do it!

I surprised myself by finishing that 10K in just under 53 minutes, within a couple of minutes of Morgan. She was the perfect rabbit to chase. On the out and back course both Morgan and Mack encouraged me to keep chasing and it was fabulous to high-five both of them at the end. I faded a bit at the end, but still ended up running at a much faster pace than I thought I was capable of. I didn't realize until logging my times later that day that I'd achieved a PR for the 10K distance. That wasn't an over-40, just-moved-to-Colorado, conditional PR. It was an actual PR. I have only run a handful of 10K races - but my 43-year old self had just run 6 minutes faster than my previous best time, and at altitude. There were no conditions at all on this PR.

The Louisville Endurance Race Series 10K was a fantastic local event with free, scenic photos as part of the entry.

...You Can Do It
Armed with confidence from that 10K, I flew to Kansas City two weeks later to make another attempt at a sub-2 half. There was no reason I couldn't do it. I would be running in perfect weather (cold and rainy) at sea level and Trent would be at the finish line. My legs and lungs were in shape and my head was in a good place too.

On race morning, I woke up to 50 degree temperatures and light rain. I intended to run from Trent's apartment to the start, about a mile and a half away. He offered to drive me because of the weather but I declined - I've learned the value of a warmup and some good dynamic stretching before a race or tough workout (thank you Nell).

I lined up in the rain with all of the marathon and half-marathon participants. Many were wearing ponchos and garbage bags to protect themselves from the rain. As we started the first mile up Grand Blvd, I knew we'd be running slightly uphill because I'd run down the hill to the start. I kept my pace in check but still ran past the 2:00 pace group and left them behind. Okay, now I'm trying to outrun that pace group. I prefer to run scared than to chase, so I was in the perfect spot. I set my sights on chasing the 1:55 pacer.

As we wound our way through the streets of Kansas City, I recognized several places that Trent and I have visited on my trips here. It was fun to look around and take in the sights. I watched my watch, too - any number under 9:00 would be an acceptable mile pace. About halfway through, I started to feel a little bit fatigued and I wondered if I should back off the pace. Miraculously, right at that moment, the rolling hills turned into a 3-mile downhill segment, exactly when I needed it. By the time I hit the 9 mile mark and the course started to roll again, I knew that I had a buffer of several minutes and that I'd meet my goal. I pushed up the hills and took the chance of running fast on every downhill opportunity.

Finally, I reached mile 12 and the significant downhill stretch to the finish line. I smiled to myself; I knew I had done it. I knew I'd reach the finish line with five minutes to spare. I even ran past the 1:55 pacer (he had fallen off the pace!). I relaxed. Right at that moment, a guy ran by and said something like, "oh no Big Sexy, you need to keep on pushing to the finish line!" as he galloped by in his Hammer kit. Of course he was right. I was going to make my goal, but I should be running as fast as I can, trying to do the best I can! I chased him to the finish line and screamed with happiness when I ran across it. 1:55:07. A five minute PR. Under two hours. More than 20 races and 14 years after my first one. How awesome. I really felt the joy of the achievement.

The Kansas City Marathon Is Awesome
Obviously I suddenly have a special place in my heart for this race now because I achieved a PR here. But besides that, I want to make sure that everyone knows what a great event it is. There was awesome swag - a nice fitted cotton T-Shirt and Goodr sunglasses in the packet! A beer garden at the finish! A perfect course with perfectly placed rolling hills and fantastic volunteers. The race is sponsored by Garmin and they even had a Strava segment around mile 8 with a prime - the fastest male and female on the quarter-mile segment would win a Garmin. What a cool gimmick. Packet pickup in Union Station was easy and the expo was exactly the right size and had a ton of great local vendors. Oh, and did I mention free finisher pictures? I can't say enough good things about this race and I'm pretty sure I'll want to run the full here next year.

Nice swag!

#fasterasamaster
CIM is only a few weeks away and I'm looking forward to racing in Sacramento with my beautiful friends from Texas. We have one more 20-miler next weekend and then it's taper time, and I can't wait! Before CIM, I have a local Turkey Trot 5K where I'm tempted to aim for a PR as well. How cool would it be to get PRs in every distance in the same year? I absolutely love that I've developed the confidence to think this way.

Remember Shannan, my over-40 friend who taught me the value of conditional PRs? Well, she just ran a marathon PR a week ago in New York City. While the conditional PR may be a helpful tool along the way, Shannan has proved that #fasterasamaster is an actual thing. I'm so excited to set my sights on big goals and see what happens next.

A fast "easy" long run with my friends in Texas was another confidence builder the weekend before the Kansas City race. I can't wait to race in California with Shelly and Orissa!  

Kerrville Triathlon Festival 2019: The Family That Races Together

In all our years in endurance sports, Dad and I have never raced together. We've cheered for each other at running events and triathlons, and he slowed his normal pace to run a couple of 10k races with me at my pace when I was a beginner. He paced me twice up Zombie Hill at the end of Norseman. But we have never entered an event where we were both racing, until this one. It was awesome. 

When I signed up for the Quarter/Olympic/Intermediate distance race at the Kerrville Triathlon Festival this summer, I expected a "just for fun" experience on a borrowed road bike. Of course as soon as the gun went off, all of that went out the window and I went for it, competing at whatever level I could. Swimming in a race at sea level after training at altitude for nearly three years was incredible, and I ran out of the water second in my age group. 

It took about 20 minutes on the bike for the girls in my age group to start catching me, and I'd lose several places during the bike ride to end up 9th at the finish. Even so, I was really happy with my bike split - it felt great, and I told Orissa afterwards that I wanted to keep her bike that she had so graciously let me borrow. I think all the run training I've been doing this summer somehow translated into one good bike ride. 

I went out fast on the run and tried to hold it, but really fell apart towards the end in the heat and humidity that I'm no longer used to, especially running past the finish line for the cruel little out-and-back on the Kerrville River Trail. I'm familiar enough with the course to know at that point that the run was going to be nearly half a mile too long. I left everything out there on the course and I felt really good about my day, finishing in just over 3 hours, which is about 10 minutes slower than the last time I raced here...not too bad! 

Dad's swim wave started 10 minutes behind mine, and Trent had urged him over the phone the day before that it was Dad's turn to to chase and pass me on the bike, like Trent always used to do. It was fun trying to hold Dad off. It was a really fun day, and I have to say that racing a triathlon really makes me want to race triathlons...

Dad was the real star of the show last weekend, earning first place in his age group. I'm so proud and here's his race report in his own words!

Big Sexy Racing on the podium!

Dad's Race Report: 1st Place Male 70+

So, here I am once again, at the start of my second triathlon. My goal is just to finish, but there is also a kick-butt element lurking in the background. Looking at the lake, the morning breeze is whipping up the top-current. The pre-swim the day before had me dreading the headwind. Who knew that wind could create a current like that?

Kristina’s flight had entered the water ten minutes earlier. And I knew she’d make up at least another ten minutes on the swim. Of course, by the end of the day, she would gain on every phase of the event. Go Kris, go!

The water was wonderful, warmer and clearer than last time, but those little waves could spell disaster. I took my first breath of water right after the first buoy. Luckily a kayak was there for me to grab onto to get air flowing again. My second breath of water happened moments later. This was going to be a tough swim. Swimming 1000m in a pool is like a warm-up, but the open water is a totally different story. And to think, I had actually been looking forward to this when I signed up a few weeks ago.

At about 600m my goggles steamed up and I could see just enough to make out the people around me. Hopefully they were leading me in the right direction. Swim-out is elation! The hand grabbing your wrist signifies that you survived once again, without embarassment.

The whole family cheering and high-fiving on the way to T1 is a blast. I took a full minute off my previous T1 time…and I got the whole thing right.

After that swim, climbing onto the bike is like finding an old friend to enjoy the next 29 miles together. The coolish weather made the ride fabulous, and these were my daily-ride roads. We headed out into a strong headwind, and I figured life would be fantastic coming back home downwind. I decided that I would wait until the turn so I could sit up and coast while taking an energy gel. It all worked great, except that we turned into even more wind. How can that happen? We really didn’t get a good tail-wind until the last seven or eight miles. I did plan to ease off the last mile or two - like that was going to happen.

Another chorus of cheers greeted me at T2. I knocked a minute off my T2 time, even though I went to the wrong bike rack. (For a few seconds, I was convinced my bag had been sabotaged.) And then it was off to the run (walk and jog). Six miles is a long way when you’re tired. After a mile, I met Kristina on her way home. She was smiling and looking great, as always. This was the first time we’d ever entered a competitive event together, what a joy to see her on the course.

I jogged as much as I could, always on the lookout for other 70 year-old guys. When I saw my competition coming towards me on the out-and-back course, I made sure to jog a little faster as we passed each other. I was a good mile ahead of my only rival at that point, but I kept up the pace always trying to maintain a small reserve for the end. Kristina came back to meet me on the way in - she’d finished an age ago.

The cheering squad was there at the finish, (Maria, Adam, Jen, William, Henry, Hazel, and Kristina) how cool is that? After crossing the line, Jen gave me the news that I was first in my age-group. It’s been years since I stood on a podium, and I almost lost my balance getting up there! My times were a minute or two slower than two years ago (even though I felt better at every stage). But I achieved my goal - to finish, with just a dash of kick-butt in there.

Now the only remaining question is…will I have forgotten how terrifying the swim can be before the August 2020 sign-up date?

Yes Dad, of course you'll forget! I can't wait to race with you next year. #familytradition

It was fun to find our names listed on the banner at the expo.

I loved riding Orissa's bike!

Orissa and I got to start the race together, and I love this picture snapped right before we ran into the water. I think we somehow look like Beavis and Butthead!

An added bonus, Adam, Jen and kids came all the way from Louisiana to cheer at this race. It was so great to spend the weekend with my family.

And it was so great to spend time with my friends as well!

Boulder 70.3 Relay Race Report: Finding My Way Back from Burnout

Before this weekend, Boulder 70.3 in 2017 was the last triathlon I raced. I didn't even write a race report about it. I started a draft, but a couple of weeks later I crewed at Leadville, started running trails and dreaming of ultras, and basically quit triathlon. After my tri bike spent a year collecting dust, I sold it. I thought I had moved on, I thought I was forever burned out on triathlon. Note: If you find yourself feeling this way, think really hard before you sell your bike and beautiful, fast race wheels! (That's foreshadowing, of course.)

In January, a couple of my Big Sexy Racing teammates brought up the idea of a relay at Boulder 70.3. Both ladies were traveling from out of town and weren't excited about swimming at altitude, so I happily agreed to be the swimmer for their relay. Then, a few months ago, our runner dropped out due to injury, so I asked my friend Laura to step in and she agreed. Laura is a fairly new runner who's been toying with the idea of doing a triathlon, so I thought this would be the perfect first step (that might be foreshadowing too).

Exactly one month ago, my parents suggested coming down to Texas to race the Kerrville triathlon in September. I put it on the calendar and pulled my road bike out of the closet. After not riding my bike for nearly a year and a half, I immediately rediscovered the joy of riding. My coach agreed that the Kerrville tri would be a fine idea and that a little bit of biking would only help me towards my marathon goal at CIM in December. I found myself looking forward to the bike rides on my plan more than anything else. In the last month I've joyfully discovered some of the great roads to ride around Lafayette and Boulder. It's literally the only thing I want to do right now. I love riding my bike!

It should be no surprise, then, that when our cyclist for the relay dropped out due to injury two weeks ago, I jumped at the chance to do the bike leg of the relay in addition to the swim. I was not happy that Nina is hurt, but I was really excited that the opportunity to ride a bike in a race had just fallen into my lap.

On race morning as I was setting up my bike and equipment in the transition area, Whiting, who was doing the swim on a relay team of her own, pointed at the running shoes and hat that I'd laid out and asked me if I was intending to run too. "I don't know," I said, "I might be crippled after riding my bike for 56 miles." I had a 4-mile run on my training plan that I'd missed earlier in the week, so if I was able, I intended to at least run to the Big Sexy tent that was about 3 miles away from the transition on the run course. I secretly dreamed of being able to complete the entire race - a relay of one. As someone I admire very much recently said, I like to do stupid things. But we'd see what the day would bring.

The water was barely wetsuit legal and I headed to the beach in my sleeveless wetsuit, accompanied by Laura who was soaking in the experience of the day as she waited to run hours later. Although I'd been worried about time when we entered the transition close to 6:30 and stood in a porta-potty line until 7, the race didn't start until 7:15ish and I found myself standing happily in a pack of five or six Big Sexy teammates on the beach with plenty of time to get in the water for the rolling start. We'd seeded ourselves with the 37-40 minute pack for the 1.2 mile swim.

It was the perfect way to start a race. We laughed and chatted our way to the water's edge and then lined up in chutes to start the swim four at a time, with five seconds between each pack of starters. Although my plan had been to swim on my teammate Tony's feet, I lost him as soon as he started the race and instead I swam off by myself to swim far to the left of the buoys. I think if I ever want to be competitive in one of these things, I'll need to re-learn how to swim in close proximity to others, but today was not that day.

The swim was peaceful and my lats, arms, and hands felt strong as I pulled myself through the water. I did feel like I was drifting to the left, but I sighted enough to correct it before I went too far off course. I felt my Garmin buzz each time 500 yards passed, and when it buzzed a third time on my way back to shore, I thought to myself, "okay, get to the finish before it buzzes again." This would not be the case and I finished the swim in 37:30 with 2214 yards recorded on the Garmin. Everyone says the swim was long. I don't really know if it was, but I do know that I was very happy to be on my feet, running to the wetsuit strippers.

I saw Whiting as I approached the transition; she had finished a couple minutes before me. She'd already handed her chip off to her relay cyclist, and she cheered at me to hurry. I laughed as I immediately stopped at a porta-potty before even reaching my bike. I'm not considering this to be a race; I'm going to take the time to stop and pee. Then I ran to my bike where Laura and Whiting were waiting. I put on my aero helmet, gloves (it takes a long time to put on gloves when your hands are wet), sunglasses, and race belt with bib (which was not necessary on the bike! Whoops). I put a few packs of honey stinger chews in the back pocket of my kit. Pulled on my socks and shoes, started the Garmin on the bike, and ran out of transition.

Based on previous races, I assumed my split would be around 3 hours. I know I'm slower on my road bike than on a tri bike, and I didn't have aero bars or race wheels. I did have my aero helmet, which made me laugh. My bike split at this race two years ago was 2:45, but the course was two miles short and, more importantly, I had actually trained for the bike portion of the race. For this race I had ridden a total of 135 miles distributed among seven rides, all within the past month. My longest ride before the race was 38 miles. There was really no telling what would happen.

For the first 10 miles on the Diagonal Highway, I felt really strong. I got in my drops, got as aero as possible, and rode my way to a zone 3 heart rate. My teammates cheered as they passed by one by one. The first part of the bike is a really fast section of the course and I was feeling great. But around 15 miles into the ride, my back started to hurt. This is normal because I'm just getting used to riding my bike again, and being in the drops wasn't helping. I started to wonder not only if I'd be able to run off the bike, but if I'd even be able to complete the entire bike race.

I stood up on the pedals to stretch my back frequently. I backed off the level of effort. I took advantage of spinning up the hills. On my road bike, I'm more confident handling the bike on the downhills, so I took advantage of those too. All things considered, it was a good ride, but it didn't feel good to be passed by literally 1000 people. As a relatively strong swimmer, I'm used to being passed on the bike, but the effect was multiplied at this race by my lack of an awesome aero setup and, again, my lack of bike fitness. I did take the time to look around and take in the awesome views of the mountains that still have snow on their peaks in August.

Road bike, aero helmet, and unbeatable scenery around me.

With numb hands and an aching back, I was happy to roll into transition when it finally came. I posted my slowest half ironman bike split ever: 3:13. Even my first race in Austin was faster than that by nearly five minutes! But today was a day where I was just happy to be out there. I wondered what my back would feel like once I put on my running shoes.

As I jogged through the transition, I spotted Laura immediately; she was dancing a little bit next to the bike rack, looking happy to run. We transferred the chip to her leg, I changed my shoes, and we ran out of the transition area together. She asked if I was planning to run the whole thing with her, peppered me with questions about my day, and chattered about hers as I struggled to breathe. I looked at my watch, saw a 9:30 pace, and warned her, "you have to pace us. I always run too fast off the bike." She agreed and we tried to slow down.

Pretty much as soon as we started running I knew that I wanted to run the whole half marathon with her. I know that I was bending (okay breaking) rules by running on the run course with my relay partner, but I felt like this was a forgivable offense; I wasn't pacing her to a win or anything like that. I don't know. Judge me if you want to. I'm normally a strict rule-follower and I do feel guilty about it.

The first of two loops was relatively easy for Laura and harder for me. It took time to get into a groove running off the bike. Once I got there though, I became insanely happy. Starting at mile six, I chattered at Laura and to all the runners around us. As the temperature rose on the exposed, mostly gravel run course (it was reported to be 97 degrees but I'm not sure how accurate that is; it did feel like we were on the surface of the sun at times), it seemed like everyone was suffering except me. This only made me happier; I felt proud that I have the fitness to fake my way through a half ironman, albeit at a much slower pace than I've ever biked or run during one of these things before.

We ran to the aid stations and walked through them with purpose. I was unstoppably positive and managed to even annoy myself with it. I was just so happy to be out there. At one point I jogged ahead, bursting with joy and the realization that this is what I love to do! This is my favorite thing in the world! My heart was screaming with happiness and it started to overflow into tears. I forced myself to control my breathing and I turned excitedly to Laura to report to her what I'd just learned.

Laura had slowed to a walk, and I jogged back on the jeep path towards her. She made a little sound and I tentatively asked her if she was laughing. When she said no, I realized that Laura was crying too, but for the opposite reason. She hated it. She felt sick and she wasn't having any fun at all. I dialed back my enthusiasm and talked her through the rest of the run, walking when she needed to walk and running when she could. I was proud to see her run from aid station to aid station, refusing to walk until she really needed to.

After the race, we talked quite a bit about mental toughness, and although she thinks she doesn't have it, I saw it many times during the last five miles of the race. She didn't quit. She kept moving forward. She doesn't know how important that is, but one day she'll look back and I know she'll be proud. I hope she decides to continue with her plan to try a triathlon, because now she's already done the hardest part of one.

When we approached the finish line, she ran ahead and I jogged around to the other side of the fence to cheer her across the line. Whiting and the rest of our friends were there; they'd been finished with their relay for probably hours and had come in 7th place in the relay division! With a 6:51 total time, I don't even know where we placed, but of course it doesn't really matter, our day was never supposed to be about speed.

Talking to my coach, Nell Rojas, afterwards, I admitted that there were times during the swim and the bike where I asked myself, do I really like this? Those thoughts never came up during the run. "Maybe I just really love running," I told her. "No," she laughed, "if you were that happy during the run, I think you really love triathlon." She's right. The next one is in seven weeks in Kerrville. I can't wait!

My first relay finisher's medal. And the t-shirt has a PRAIRIE DOG ON IT!

The entire weekend was a super fun Big Sexy celebration. Teammates had come from as far as Australia to compete in this half ironman. The pre- and post-race team activities added a layer of joy to the event, and their cheering on the run course was second to none.

At bike check-in with Laura and Whiting.