Things I learned at Vineman

whew - most of the weirdness has passed!

It's day 5 post ironman and I feel mostly normal. I go to sleep at a normal time and wake at a normal time. I haven't tried training yet, so I'm not convinced I'm all systems go, but I figure this weekend I'll take the kids to the pool, take them for a ride on their bikes, etc. Fun stuff. No pressure.

I am starting to feel the need to memorialize this as much as I can. I can remember thinking, after I had my girls, that I need to remember every moment as much as I could - every detail seemed so important at the time. The only way I'll be able to keep these details is to write them down, though I'm sure the flavor of the thing will fade over time.

Like childbirth, there are some things best experienced, but not lingered upon.

I've been reading Donald's posts about his Vineman experience. Aside from his freakishly fast times, it's as if we had the same race. I had the same gorgeous swim, the same logistical niggles, the same weather. Except I wasn't racing against Ultimate Fighter Nick Diaz!!!! I was racing against all the fast swimmers from Barb's Race, the women-only 70.3 that started about 20 minutes after my wave. And the Team In Training people, of which there were many. From my point of view, half the field were Team In Training. There was a whole lot of green and purple keeping me company.

Transition 1, at the beach, had a changing tent at one end of the transition area. Unlike NA Sports Ironman (tm) events, Vineman does not have assistants in the changing tent to help you - there were less than 100 women, about 500 competitors in all. So while the changing tents were small, they were plenty big for a race this size. It's no Ironman (tm). Knowing that I was doing a whole 112 mile bike ride, I decided to wear full-on cycling shorts and a cycling jersey with pockets to accommodate my nutrition. I spent a long 12 minutes and change in transition 1 before I headed up hill away from Johnson's beach and onto the road.

Lesson 0: Never ignore the call of nature. I really REALLY had to use a portaJohn coming out of the swim. I know - that's what a wetsuit is for, right? but I did. AGAIN. The portaJohns were located on the other side of the fence from the transition exit to the bike - which meant that I couldn't access them without abandoning my bike and going for a long trot around the fence around the transition area. It didn't make sense to waste this time, so thought I'll just hit the next one. Big mistake - this cost me huge time at the first rest area, where I had to wait in a LONG QUEUE to use that portaJohn. I passed a few Team in Training people early on out of the transition, and thought I'd left them behind for good.

I headed away from Guerneville to Sunset Road - there was lots of traffic for the first few miles - and then the rolling hills started. For the first 10 to 15 miles, I was just trying to find my legs. And my nutrition. And my first uncrustable. I didn't feel fatigued, I was just rattled by the fact that I was about to do 112 miles of cycling. And I was getting passed by all the fast ladies from Barb's race. So. Un. Fair! They aren't going 112 miles, they're just cycling 56, that's why they're so fast. Yeah. That's it.

I started into my nutrition routine as soon as I could: gel every 1/2 hour, e-cap every hour. My watch would go every 15 minutes, so in between gels and e-caps, I'd drink the water or heed or perpetuem I had on board. It took a good while for me to get used to eating on the bike on the rolling hills. After awhile the fast half racers stopped passing me, I started to stay with them and feel more like a rider, less like a passenger.

Lesson 1: Not all riding is equal. I found out, at Vineman, that I need to work on my climbing. A lot. Also, I found out that I'm awesome at time trialling! Every place where there was flat I was leaving people behind. Too bad it wasn't a flat course. On the part of the loop that heads north I found headwind. Headwind - that's OK, that'll mean tailwind on the south direction, right? Apparently not at Vineman. Headwind to the north direction means...headwind to the south, the east, the west. Yeah, pretty much everywhere. I felt like I was just making it on the hills, and tried to make up big time on the flat parts - but there weren't many.

The course, by the way, is really very pretty. The number of scenic areas on the course is ridiculous - vineyard after vineyard after trees after pretty. You can't swing a cat without hitting a winery or vineyard or scenic tree, or farm house.

About that big hill...The first time up Chalk Hill was not exactly a breeze, but it wasn't a deal breaker. Yeah, it's a hill, and yeah, it's steady, but it has a beginning and an end. I think, however, it sucked some of my brain cells out of my head. A few miles after I crested it the first time, I passed a guy holding a sign up that said "5 more miles" (to the end of Barb's, and therefore, 6 miles to my Special Needs) and I was kind of fed up with my gel every half hour routine and ready for a change. In my carb-depleted state, I thought, 5 more miles would be 5 more minutes.

Lesson 2: Don't try to think. I wanted a break from the gels, so I skipped my next gel feed thinking that in 5 minutes I'd be at special needs. Skipping this gel actually meant I skipped 2 feeds - 5 miles turned out to be 20 minutes. Oops.

At special needs I'd left myself a cherry coke and a sandwich, and 4 more hours worth of gels to stuff into my jersey pockets. My coke was hot and fizzy, my sandwich hot and squishy - but I did not care. I got off the bike and sat down for a few minutes (with the Team in Training people) to actually eat before heading back out (with more Team In Training people). I was maybe 10 minutes at the special needs before I headed out again. This was time well spent - I was hot, tired, I needed a little break. I put my hot fizzy coke into a spare bottle with ice, and then I rolled back out to attack the Loop of Heat and Hills and Wind, Part 2.

Lesson 3: 112 miles is more than 100 miles. The second loop was more exhausting than the first, as I knew it would be. As the day progressed, the headwinds picked up, the heat increased. Psychologically it was harder because I started to think about the run. It's gonna suck. I kept trying to think about it in positive terms. No it won't, you make your own experience. You don't know if it will suck or not. Yeah, but it's hot. It was also difficult because the back half of the bike was SO LONG. It wasn't until recently that I finally realized that 12 miles is a big chunk of an hour at my bike pace - it's not 12 minutes. D'oh.

I kept my nutrition routine for the remainder of the bike, even though I was really truly fed up with gels. I did my best to keep it interesting, I had a enough flavors of hammer gels to have something new all the time. Still, they were gels, and that much gel just got pretty loathesome after awhile.

I added water to my aerobottle put ice into all my bottles at every stop. While this meant that my nutrition was slowly being diluted, it made it more appealing to drink and it kept my temperature below boiling point. I also started putting ice down my bra, and drinking gatorade whenever I felt like it. My stomach, while it felt a little sloshy, never felt like it was going to reject its contents...

until I had to go back up Chalk Hill.

Lesson 4: Now I know what it feels like to work so hard I have to puke. As I approached Chalk Hill the 2nd time, I thought this is no time to be a hero - just spin it up. Get to the top. Keep your energy to a minimum. I put my bike in the lowest gear and took it as easily as I could - but I was toast - easy was all used up. Every part of me was hot, sore, pissed off, tired. As I crested the hilll, two guys in Gerolsteiner kit were waiting at the top, encouraging me (thanks guys). Still I could tell that the effort had raised my heart rate just enough to put me into the urp zone. I had never known quite that sensation until that moment. It's weird.

Yeah, it did take a few minutes to recover. I talked myself out of barfing, just spinning my legs for awhile. I figured losing that much nutrition would cost me, and it would make a mess. Ew. But it wasn't easy.

Lesson 5: Stay in the moment, have fun. By this time I had figured out that the "5 more miles" after getting past Chalk Hill would take me more than 5 minutes, so I was psychologically preparing myself for the run. There was something about this ride that felt unpleasant - all my training rides were mostly positive and happy, but this was not fun. Was it the heat? The hills? The wind? great. another effing vineyard. Please shoot me now. In retrospect, I think the weather exacerbated my own internal pressure. I ganged up on myself without realizing it - I worried about the run, about my own performance, and I was just not having fun. I broke an important rule: have fun, it's the whole point.


I rolled into Windsor High School pissed off and hot and walked my bike to the rack. Total bike time: 7:55:38. I'm pretty sure I have a faster bike time in me. It'll take some time and hill training to get it out of me, but I know it's in there.

time to crash...time for more cookies...