Bassman Tri and a Farewell to 2011 Tri Season!

After Nation's disappointing demise into a duathlon and cluster-fest, along with Bart's itching to get one more tri in for the 2011 season, Bassman tri got written into the schedule. A smaller race, but within reasonable driving distance, and I just wanted one last dip in a clear lake before retiring to indoor pools for the fall and winter!

The day before the race, we drove through rain up to New Jersey; the forecast predicted cold and rainy weather, so I packed my bike gloves just in case! Turns out that race morning was beautiful - still a bit chilly, but launch time was 8:30, and the sun had warmed everything up by then.



The race director announced that the water was a tepid 70* - this was definitely worth the 3 1/2 hour drive up for the swim alone! There were only 3 waves for the International Distance Tri, and I was in wave 1 with Females and Aquabikers. We took off at 8:30, and I prompty ran over a swimmer who went out way too fast and then veered to swim perpendicular to the course. I rolled over her in a single stroke, recalibrated to make sure that I wasn't the one who was off-course, and gunned it for two swimmers up ahead.
Swim felt awesome - it always does. There were no currents, the water was warm and clear, and my strokes felt long and strong. I took the lead about 500 meters in, but sighting after the last turn became a problem. The sun was rising directly behind the exit water area. I couldn't see a thing - no silhouettes, no reference point, just a huge blazing ball of yellow every time I sighted ahead. Argh...since I was in the lead, there were no bubbles or feet to follow, and I was on my own.
Well, I must have a pretty good sense of direction, because I hit that exit area pretty much straight on. I waited until the last possible stroke until I stood up and ran out of the water clumsily, awkwardly high-knee-ing it to the beach with my elbows flailing. Running out of water has never been graceful.
First outta the water - thanks to my dimpled Xterra Vendetta! The race director had his megaphone in my face as I ran past him - he was saying something about others coming out of the water just behind me, so I booked it into transition. A bit of a struggle with my wetsuit around my ankles, but luckily my timing chip stayed on. I strapped on my patriotic aero helmet, hoisted Penelope off the rack, and ran out of T1.

Wow, this was cool. Since I had been in the first wave and had the fastest female swim split, I had a police car leading me for the first five miles. I knew that I'd eventually be caught by the men from the wave behind me and women who were faster on the bike, so I tried to hold them off as long as possible (Obviously, this is not the actual lead car!).
The flashing blue and red lights sped down the road ahead of me to clear nonexistent state park traffic, and I chased them as fast as I could. The glory of being in first and having a police escort only lasted an ephemeral five miles; soon enough, I was passed by the woman who eventually won the race and a pair of guys, and the police escort was no longer mine. It was fun while it lasted, Officer Friendly!

For the next 24 miles, I was by my lonesome, which gave me plenty of time to ease into a steady rhythym, only to realize that I had eased off a bit too much when another racer would pass me. I started to think about not wanting to be on the bike anymore, which is not good when you're less than halfway through the bike course. This would be much more entertaining if there were some hills or some deer in this forest, but the bike course was boring throughout - no hills, no scenery, no aid stations, no spectators; only the whoosh-whoosh of wheels as cyclists passed me.
I was looking forward to the run - if anything, at least my toes would dethaw and I'd be able to get out of this constant aero position! I hadn't even thought to pack my toe warmers and in T1 had decided to forgo my bike gloves, but now I was regretting my hands being so cold. My sniffles became snot rockets, which I had perfected while trekking in Nepal. I must admit that one of my snot rockets was an epic failure - it landed on my hand, got smeared across my tri shorts, and ossified into a white streak. Yet another reason not to bike when it's cold!

Coming into T2, my hands and feet were frozen - I had to concentrate just to get my helmet off. In the seconds that it took to realize that my hands were not quite as nimble as they should be, I decided not to wrestle with socks for the run. The mantra "Nothing new on race day" taunted me, but it was only a 4.2-mile run, and although I'd never run without socks before, I figured that my feet were too frozen to notice the difference of a thin layer of cotton.

Out of T2, I caught up with the last woman who had passed me on the bike. She courteously encouraged me with a "You go, girl."
"How many more women ahead of us?"
"Just one."
Just one! I picked up my turnover, but I always have trouble gauging my run pace - I don't wear a watch, and my legs just feel like Gumby's straight off the bike. I churned and thought of narrowing the distance between me and the first place female - where was she? Not far past Mile 1, I realized that she was much too far ahead to be caught. I couldn't even see her when I rounded the start of a loop that had a mini switch-back; she was more than a half-mile ahead. I shifted my focus to ticking off a skinny dude who had passed me on the bike.

Crossed the finish line with some juice left in my legs for a bit of a kick, and walked through a line of high school cheerleaders/race volunteers. They each stared at me as I made my way to the exit, studying my fashionable spandex. "Don't forget to give us your timing chip," one of them muttered with her hands buried in her sweatshirt pockets. I stuck my left foot out, but quicky realized that she and her teen comrades had no intention of doing any more work than was necessary. The blank look on her face told me, "Take it off yourself and put it in the bucket. That timing chip could have pee on it." (it didn't)

Bassman Triathlon: 2nd Female Overall; 2:08:30
0.5-Mile Swim: 13:44
29-Mile Bike: 1:26:12
4.2-Mile Run: 26:46

Bart got 3rd:


and I got 2nd!


Check out the awesome trophies that Bart and I got for our podium finishes:

Takes us back to high school days and cross-country trophies! Haha!



Funniest part of the day was when the 3rd place female went up to accept her trophy and it broke - the gold running woman fell right off the trophy! The race director tried to cover it up by laughing and casually saying, "We'll just tape it back together". To which the race photographer standing next to me mumbled, "It already broke before and was taped together." Ha!
She's trying to figure out what to do with the running woman in one hand and the trophy base in the other...Oh well, doesn't take away from the pride of a podium finish!

Huge thanks to Katie Palavecino for letting me use her race wheels - I Snapple'd them up with some sweet stickers!

A Patriotic Cluster: Nation's Duathlon 2011

Nation's Tri holds a special place not because it's in my backyard or because this year, it fell on the 10th anniversary of 9/11; Nation's was my first triathlon, and we all know that the first anything is memorable. In 2008, I came home to the USA with a big red backpack, no plans, and bedbug scars running up and down my legs. I was out of shape, had cholesterol levels that caused my doctor to question my diet while living in the Middle East, and was eager to start working out again and to meet people whose first language was English. I registered for the Nation's Tri with Team in Training, which became the catalyst for my passion for training. I've met some of my best friends through triathlon, and there's no better way to start the day than riding through North Arlington hills with Katie Palavecino or to end the day swimming at Haines Point until the lifeguard kicks me out. I never thought I'd embrace spandex so lovingly or spend as much time looking forward to my lunchtime runs as much as lunch itself. Triathlons have whipped me back into shape post-living-abroad, and they've created a happy haven.

Six days before Nation's, it rained steadily and heavily for four consecutive days. My two training rides before the race left me with mud lining my spandex and Penelope caked in splattered gunk from the roads.
The Thursday before race day, I got the devastating news: the swim in the Potomac had been canceled. I was irate; how could you cancel the swim that early in advance? The weather could clear; the Potomac could be rid of debris in four days time; the triathlon could go on!
I have to concede that the race directors made the right call on this one. The morning of Nation's, I was warming up by jogging along the Potomac River and saw 4-foot long tree logs floating downstream in the muddy, sewage-filled waters of the Potomac. I love swimming, but there was no way that I would have jumped into the bacteria-infested waters that had logs waiting to wipe me out!
At 6:50 am, the race director announced that transition would close in five minutes, but throngs of people were still sprinting to the transition entrance to drop off their gear. Suckers, you shouldn't sleep in! I always set 3 alarms on race morning.

All 5,000 participants clustered around our wave flags and huddled together as we tried not to lose our fellow wave members. What a mess! I was standing next to 50-54 year-old men who were in wave 29, but had somehow managed to fight their way into the corral for the elite wave!
Since the swim was canceled, the racers went off in packs of 20 about 15 seconds apart straight into T1. I started off with the Elite wave, blasted through mud that stank of sewage and 3-day-old-backwaters from the Potomac, and grabbed Penelope. Off we went!

Oh yeah, and that aero helmet is growing on me. I still look like a dork, but it makes me laugh whenever I put it on. Heehee, it makes me laugh just looking at that picture.

Bike course carried us straight through DC, out onto the Clara Barton Parkway, up to Bethesda, and back to DC. I won't harp on the blatant drafting by waves of Cadets or the riders who were constantly weaving throughout the course, but this picture, taken 300 meters from T2, aptly describes the Nation's bike course:

That's what happens when you create a triathlon and drive it to sell out at 5,000 registrants!

Off the bike, my legs felt loose and ready to hit the pavement. Goodbye, aero helmet. Hello, rockin' pink Zoots! Woohoo - I was ready to blast through this 10K!
Run felt fast the whole way through, and my pace felt good. There was a younger Elite female ahead of me who I tried to keep pace with so that I could poooosibly dig deep and put the hurt on her in the last 1/2 mile, but her 22-year-old legs were just too quick for my short legs. I conceded to the hare and let her go, but was able to tick off two female elites who had passed me on the bike. Yeah! Take that!

Finishing stretch was long - hearing the race director announcing names crossing the finishing line always creates a false belief that you're closer than you really are. Thankfully, Bart was waiting 200 meters from the finish line with Snapple! NOW I was ready to kick it in!


Crossed at 1:50:27, grabbed some water and Gatorade, and hung out with the Snapple crew to cheer on friends streaming through.

Finishing Duathlon time: 1:50:27
9th Elite Female, 17th overall
40 Km Bike: 1:06:21
10 Km Run: 41:40


Special shout-out to training buddies Sarah Brown, above left, who finished 10th Elite Female, and Jen Yip, above right, who finished top 10 in her Age Group!

Nation's was a great way to commemorate the 10th anniversary of 9/11 by racing through the National Mall, but I left with a bittersweet feeling. The bike course was replete with rampant drafting, the course is too flat, and the swim in the Potomac is always a gamble. My original plan was for Nation's to be my last tri of the 2011 season; but it's too painful to end a season on a tri-turned-duathlon. What a bummer! So Bassman tri, here I come in October!

Congrats to the Snapple crew who all raced well on Sunday!


And for those of you who want a blast from the past, here's my 2009 Nation's Tri race report!

Alaska Baskin': The Last Frontier

I knew I'd love Alaska when we landed close to midnight with the sun just starting to set. Perfect. Blast me with that Vitamin D!
On our first day in Anchorage, Bart and I met up with Megan, my best friend from the Peace Corps and fellow mountain junkie. As she headed off to her village in the Bush to teach 2nd graders for a second year, we set off north to Matanuska Glacier, a 27-mile long glacier flowing from the Chugach mountains.

Crampons strapped to our boots and ice axes in each hand, we picked our way up glacier walls. This was fun!! I like slamming things (like axes) into non-living things (like ice). On my fourth climb, though, my grip strength faltered and my legs struggled to kick enough punch with each step to claw my way up the glacier walls - this was tough going!
Left is a picture of me trying to make my way up the wall, and below is a shot of Bart climbing the glacier wall:

Next stop: another glacier. I couldn't get enough! We hiked up the Harding Ice Field to Exit Glacier, where the top of the trail is a horizon of ice and snow that seems to extend to...well, Russia. It's quite awesome to feel like I can rock-jump off the edge of the trail into a glacier's crevasse, or to imagine myself sledding across the blanket of ice that lay in front of us. It's one of those rare moments when I think that life can't get any better. I've just walked up an "arduous trail" (according to the National Park Service) with little effort; I'm standing here with my best friend while eating trail mix; I can't see anything but snow and ice, yet I'm in shorts and a t-shirt - this is what I term a "Jack Brauer moment." When you feel like nature has just rewarded you for taking the effort to climb her peaks.



Our climbing hunger satiated, we headed south along Highway 1 to Seward, a fishing community bordering the Kenai Peninsula. I was looking forward to some delicious seafood and camping near the waters, but our campsite was more of a by-the-road community of squatters who were anti-hotel.
One of the more popular things to do while in Seward is to take a boat trip out to the glaciers to see the marine wildlife. Yes, it's touristy, but it really is quite stunning to spot humpbacked whales slamming their tails into the ocean against a glacial mountain backdrop. During our trip out to Northwestern Glacier, we spotted orcas (killer whales), humpback whales, sea otters, sea lions, and all kinds of birds (which didn't fascinate me as much as the marine mammals).

The best part of our foray out into the bay? As we ooh-ed and aah-ed at the size and texture of Northwestern Glacier, a tip of the upper glacier broke off and created an avalanche of tumbling ice boulders that slammed their way down the glacier, gaining speed and breaking off unstable chunks. The effect of a thunder of ice into the waters below was awesome; it's one of those moments where you don't blink or breathe because you don't want to miss any part of the awesomeness that's happening. Here's the avalanche!

The next day, we planned to go afternoon-fishing for salmon and halibut in the Bay with a hired boat. We figured that we would start off our morning with a climb up Mt. Marathon, a mountain that stands just over 3000 feet above the town of Seward. Every 4th of July, there is a race up and down this mountain - a 5K course that has runners crossing the finish line with bloody knees.
Bart and I thought we could easily fit this hike/run into our morning before our fishing trip...boy, did we underestimate this mountain. It's so steep that sometimes you take a step and slide back half a step on the scree. You climb 3000 feet in a mile and a half, and then go straight back down - add to this that we did it on a morning when the entire upper half of the mountain was shrouded in clouds. Not fun. I was in a grouchy mood, and I was hungry.
Well, we made it up and down the mountain, with a few minor detours, in about 3.5 hours - the winners of the Mt Marathon race are running this in 45 minutes! How they manage to do that is beyond me - I've heard that the average speed uphill is 2 mph, and the average speed downhill is 12 mph. Yikes!
We ran straight to the fishing dock to try to make our scheduled fishing boat departure, but we were 25 minutes late. My spirits were crushed, and there was no arguing with this lady; the boat was not turning back to fetch us. We could reschedule for tomorrow, or we could eat up the cost and just mope on back. I pouted, but Bart turned my spirits around when he said, "It's raining anyways and those people on the boat are probably miserable and wet and cold and seasick."
On our way out of town, while I was still a bit down about having missed our fishing trip, we stumbled on a blueberry festival! I quickly forgot what fish we were supposed to be catching that afternoon, and rejoiced in blueberry pies, blueberry pound cakes, blueberry salsa, and blueberry-chocolate-covered smoked salmon!

Next it was up north to Talkeetna, a small town just south of Denali that affords great views of North America's highest peak. We decided to splurge and retire our tent, and we booked a bed-and-breakfast neighboring an Iditarod-dog-training home.
The first day in Talkeetna, we picked up two heavy mountain bikes from our B&B and headed into town. Biking without any real intention or sense of direction, we found the local fishing hole. I don't like fishing, but having Denali as a backdrop while you catch fresh salmon ain't too bad a way to spend a weekday afternoon. After making conversation with the local dudes, one of whom was from Arlington, the best thing happened.
"Would you eat salmon tonight if I cut you a couple fillets?"
"Really?"
"Yeah, we have enough. Would you eat it?"
When something is offered, I believe in opening your arms and embracing it. In this case, "it" was a plastic bag with a slimy salmon fillet inside...we popped it in my backpack, pedaled to the local store to pick up some fresh veggies, and raced home to our B&B on our clunker bikes.
DELICIOUSNESS!! This was the best meal of the trip - the salmon was cooked perfectly, the skin peeled right off, and the meat disintegrated on my tongue. Nom-nom-nom; I was in Alaska heaven!

The next day, we scheduled an air taxi flight to view Denali - one of the best ways to catch a glimpse of Denali. According to locals, Denali is shrouded by clouds and not visible from the national park or sea level 95% of the year. When we woke up to relatively open and clear skies, our B&B momma ushered us out the door, encouraging us to take advantage of the great weather and fly up to stare at Denali. Our hour-and-a-half flight took us through the valley, straight up to Denali's south face, and landed on a glacier. I blame my obsession with mountains and altitude on my roots as a Utah girl who grew up skiing every Sunday. Flying with Talkeetna Air and weaving through the Denali and Alaska ranges is awesome - check out the vistas!

After a rainy next 2 days in Talkeetna, filled with hikes where waterproof boots proved to be water-retaining, we headed back to Anchorage for one last hoo-rah before heading home.
On our last morning in Alaska, Bart and I went for a 10-mile run along the coast...and ran smack into 6 moose on the trail! All of them were close enough that we had doubts about continuing on the running path, but we tentatively tiptoed our way across, casting our eyes down to indicate that we weren't the aggressive types - we just wanted to get our 10 miles in! What a great way to end our trip to Alaska!

Top 10 Highlights of Alaska:
1. Grilling fresh salmon
2. Denali!
3. Riding rickety mountain bikes on dirt trails
4. Running with moose
5. Climbing glaciers
6. Laughing at sea otters
7. Eating pizza in Anchorage after 3 days of eating cold sandwiches
8. Stumbling upon a blueberry festival when we missed our fishing trip
9. Protecting Bart from the moose
10. Mountains 360* around

Click here for pictures of our trip!

No Black Flies, but there was Maple Syrup!

Black Fly Tri in Waterville Valley, NH is my favorite tri, despite its too-short swim. It's a three-day racing weekend in the beautiful White Mountains where the whole valley is filled with CT and NJ license plates on cars with bike racks, clam chowder served at the post-race tent, never-ending music in the village square, and events such as a kid's pie-eating contest and a Firefly 5K.

The Lord/Lady of the Flies has triathletes racing a bike TT on Friday evening, a shortened International-distance tri on Saturday, and a sprint tri on Sunday morning. There's just enough time between each event to rest your legs and enjoy some light kayaking or hiking in the Valley. A whole Snapple crew going up to race together made this year sweeter than last year - although not all turned out to have such a great weekend (Zack's unfortunate turn of events below).

Our Snapple gang had a personal photographer in Chris Kyriacou; thanks for the pics, Chris!

The day before I left, Bart presented a very long Rudy Project box to me: "I have something for you, Mindy."
I knew what it was. A small aero helmet. That looked like a sperm.
I laughed. "I can't wear that, Bart."
"Why not?"
"Cause I don't want to."
"Why not?"
"Cause then I'll be a hypocrite. I laugh at everyone who wears an aero helmet who isn't pro so I don't want to be one of those people!"
"But it'll make you faster."
"Minimally."
"About 30 seconds faster."
Pause
"Really?" I'm always so gullible. He could have said it makes me 5 minutes faster in a 4.4 mile TT, and I would have believed him.
"Yes. Just wear it."
And so Black Fly is the first race where Mindy Ko wore a patriotic sperm helmet. And I do believe that it made me faster!

Friday night 4.4 mile Time Trial: First event of the weekend! Each racer went off about 15 seconds apart on an out-and-back course that took you down a hill and straight back up it. Two burly men on either side of me held my bike until the buzzer went off - then Right Man shouted "Go Snapple!" Pedal, pedal, pedal; grab some cadence; shift down; there's Chris's voice cheering from the side; I was off. It was hammer time - this was fun and fast! But alas, soon I turned 180* and I was out of my saddle, struggling up the exact hill that I had just cruise-controlled down.
Bike TT felt awesome - I have yet to master power or hammering on the bike; usually I just pedal as hard as I can and watch woefully as people with 45 on their calves pass me without even warning "On your left" because I'm such a non-threat. Tonight, though, felt awesome - early morning rides with Katie Davison on hills through Arlington have been awesome for my quads, and Penelope and a sperm helmet turned out to be a great duo!
4.4 mile TT: 12:34; 1st in Age Group 25-29, 11th overall.

Saturday "International Distance" Tri - 400 meter swim, 21 mile bike, 5 mile run.
At 7 am, the weahter was perfect: clear skies from the thunderstorm at 9 pm the previous night, low humidity, and almost no wind. I couldn't wait to jump in the water; swimming is the best way to start any day, especially race day!

Water a bit chilly at 70* - just how I love it. Those years in gymnastics and ballet classes have not paid off - sorry, Mom; water entrance was not graceful at all, evident by the belly flop and high butt in photo above. Arms felt strong - leveraging lots of water on my pulls. A wee bit o' difficulty around the buoys, where throngs of 5 were all competing to take the tightest turns. I have little patience for buoy-hogs who won't let me through! Final stretch - ate some seaweed.
Thanks to my Xterra Vendetta for the buoyancy and top female swim split!

On to the bike:
Penelope + Aero Helmet + Passing People + shorter bike course = Fun Times + Mindy smiles.

Run felt awesome - how could it not when I wear my pink Zoots?!? These things are awesome - light, laces less complicated than my Velcro shoes from elementary days, and pink!
My pace was consistent and I felt like I was ticking off the miles without getting more tired. Focused on the ponytails in front of me, then on anyone in front of me; I am not sexist!!

Shortened Intl Distance Tri:
400-meter swim: 6:02
21-mile bike: 1:03:33
5-mile run: 34:59
Total Time: 1:47:05 (1st AG, 8th overall)

Got me some maple syrup!

Not everyone had such a fun day, though:
Zack Desmond broke his toe three steps into the race on Saturday morning. He was running so fast into the water that he stepped on a sharp rock; thinking that he had just stubbed his toe or maybe cut it, he completed the swim...and emerged from the water with his second toe broken and somehow flailing bone-lessly under his 3rd and 4th toes. His foot is now in a cast after his toe surgery; good luck with the recovery, Zack!
The Black Fly Tri volunteer in the photo escorted Zack to his parents and then checked in when Zack was at the ER...such a great and dedicated race crew!

Sunday's sprint-distance tri:
Swim felt awesome - as good as the day before. Thanks, Xterra!

Bike: Legs a bit tired from the previous 2 days, and the sun was blazing. Tried to keep a steady and strong cadence so that I had some leftover for the run, then it was down to the final 3 miles of the weekend! Best part of the run was seeing Avery in her kid's Snapple shirt!

Sprint Tri:
400-meter swim: 6:01
15-mile bike: 49:42
3-mile run: 22:02
Total Time: 1:20:14 (1st AG, 7th overall)

Lady of the Flies competition: for triathletes participating in all three events over the weekend, the times from each race are added to determine your final finishing time overall. I ended up winning another maple syrup for 1st in my AG for Lady of the Flies, and this cool crown that was probably made in China!

Thanks for a great weekend, Black Fly! I'll be back next year! Best part of the race is the entire Valley atmosphere - the volunteers are awesome, and the wetsuit strippers saved me at least a minute off my transition times!

Huge congrats to fellow Snapple teammates Jen Yip, 5th in her AG for Lady of the Flies and to Jessica McGuire, who placed 7th in her AG on Saturday's race!

Now it's time to whip up some waffles to pair with my maple syrup!

Chessie Currents beatin' me down

I tried to rally up my enthusiasm for swimming across the Chesapeake Bay on a humid summer day, but it just wasn't there. I love swimming; it's my daily detox from work and bike-commuting through DC traffic. However, swimming 4.4 miles into currents that cut into you sideways and head-on was not how I wanted to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon. This was just going to have to be one of those races that you push through despite its monotony and length.

The race director announced that the Chesapeake Bay waters had reached 78*, and half the swimmers chose to go sans wetsuit. I, however, love the advantage that my dimpled Xterra Vendetta wetsuit gives me, and wasn't about to sacrifice my wetsuit for a bit of overheating. Would I rather be hot and suffering for 2 hours plus change or suffering for 2 hours and 30 minutes? I chose the former.

I chatted with Snapple teammate Katie Davison while we waited for our Wave 2 to go off - we were following her fiancee Matias Palavecino's status in Eagleman 70.3, and he had just entered T2 with a bike split of 2:14. As we made our way across Sandy Point Beach, the race director's voice boomed over the megaphone: "You! With the red caps! You need to be in the corral in 7 seconds! The entire Coast Guard is waiting on you!"
Katie and I ran across the scalding beach sand as well as any bare-foot petite girls with goggles in hand and wetsuits only half-on can. I felt like I was in the military with my drill-sergeant yelling at me to not hold up the entire assault on the Chessie Bay waters. "Go! Go! Go!" Katie and I giggled as we ran toward the beach start.

The race director had announced earlier that today's race was the first time in 21 years that the current was coming north in the morning - which meant that the swimmers needed to counter the outgoing-current by staying to the left of the span between the Bay Bridges. At about Mile 2, the tide would shift and we were advised to shift our positions towards the right bridge to counter the inward current.

Swim Start:
Horrible. I didn't like the position I was in: surrounded on all sides by flailing elbows and violent kicking. I fought back with fists of fury and white-water kicks, but this only increased the attacks from all angles. After about 200 meters, the waters calmed as the swimmers spread out and found our grooves. I saw Katie's red cap and pink goggles a bit ahead and scrambled to catch her bubbles, but weaving through the 3 bodies that were blocking me off from her feet prevented a Snapple-Snapple train.

Mile 1:
I caught some bubbles from a dude with dry and scaly feet - every time my hands touched his feet, I felt like I was touching sandpaper. The water was a perfect temperature, the currents weren't too strong (yet), and my strokes felt solid and effortless.
Hi Kayaking volunteers! I'm still in a good mood and thank you for being out here!

Mile 1.5:
I lost feet to catch and the swimming mass became chaotic - I couldn't swim a straight line because the damn currents were unpredictable and stronger than I could handle.
Why am I doing this? Why did I break my promise to myself from last year to never do Chessie Bay again?
I already couldn't wait for dry land. The great thing about swimming is that it's calming, soothing, almost therapeutic. The bad thing about swimming 4.4 miles across the Chesapeake Bay is that it's boring - and the only thing worse than staring at the tiled line at the bottom of a pool is staring at green-brown water and steel poles as your sighting mechanisms.

Mile 2:
Shoulders feeling fine, it was time to get a little more kick in my swim. Focus on keeping my extension and pulling through.
Saw the aid station boat with yellow caps from Wave 1 clustered around like baby birds being fed bananas and gels. I just wanted to get this swim over with - we were only 1/2 way there!!?!?

Mile 3:
Want to know what's been going through my head for the last 90 minutes?
F*^# these currents!
I'm never doing this again, I'm never doing this again, I'm never do-...oh, hello seagull!
Has Matias finished Eagleman yet? I wonder if he crushed it...
Pizza. I want pizza.
That red buoy for mile 4 is no closer than it was 15 minutes ago!!!!

Mile 4:
Only 0.4 miles left! I can say with certainty and a touch of bitterness that this was the longest 0.4 miles ever. The currents were no longer coming from all angles, but just hitting me straight-on, causing my tired shoulders to scream for mercy.
I just want to get to those flags! I just want this next 600 meters to be done! Why am I not moving?
I tried to focus on something other than the never-ending home stretch: my stroke had gotten lazy since Mile 3, so I focused on extending and staying on top of the water. Don't let my hips sink, keep the cadence up, strong pulls, Mindy!
Finally! I'm getting closer!

Land, Sweet Land!
Oh, how I missed you, Sweet Soil!!!! I stripped out of my wetsuit that was suctioned to me, grabbed some Propel water and turkey subs, and was asked about 5 times by various attractive ladies whether I wanted Muscle Milk.

Bay swim 2011 conquered! (PS: no, this is not a picture from Chessie, but I put it in here for people who like pictures (Lucas!)!)
Final time: 2:09:36
7th in my AG, 36th overall - makes me realize how talented a field Chessie Bay brings. The first female swam a 1:47:10!!! That's probably faster than a kayak!!

Big congrats to Katie Davison, who crushed the swim in 2:02:34 and placed 2nd in her AG!

Post-race conversation with Katie:
K: "I'm never doing this again."
M: "Oh, and this time I mean it: I'm never doing this again."
K: "Oh my God, that was endless."
M: "The last 400 meters? No joke, it took me 10 minutes."
K: "I threw a temper tantrum. I kept standing up and being like 'Why the hell is it not any closer!??!!'"
M: "Buoy 3 was the worst."
K: "I thought it was Buoy 4."
M: "But it was Buoy 3."
K: "Ugh."
M: "Never again."
K: "I KNOW!!! Never again. I'm not swimming for a week. I'm only doing hot yogs and biking."
M: "I'm not swimming for a week either."
pause
M: "Well, I'll probably be back in the pool by Wednesday."
K: "Yeah, but we won't be back here next year."
M: "No."

Thanks, Chessie Bay swim, for a wonderful 2 years of swimming from shore to splendid shore. I might grumble and complain, but really, both years had their own highlights.
2010 was an accomplishment because it proved to myself that my mental toughness could overcome 2 hours of strokes, sighting, and seagulls. And of course, the first time conquering anything always holds a special spot.
2011 was more fun because I actually had someone to banter with before and after the race. It's never fun to go to a race alone, and it's somewhat depressing to cross a finish line without familiar faces to congratulate you. Although Katie and I fed and encouraged each other's "eh" attitudes towards the swim, it wasn't all negative - it made us hungry to go biking and running!!!

Rollercoaster Hills at Quassy

At 5:15 am, Chip's head poked into our bedroom.
"Guys? It's 5:15..."
"WHAT!?!? What time is it?"
"It's 5:15..."
"No. It's time. Uh. Get up."

This race day was not off to a good start. Bart and I scrambled out of a way-too-comfortable bed and into our Snapple spandex. I'd set 3 alarms for 4:45 am, but must have slept through all three of them. We had planned to leave for Quassy Half-Rev transition area at 5:15 - obviously, deep sleep had delayed us. Thanks to Bart's mad driving skills and fearlessness of speed, we made it to the transition area only several minutes behind Chip.

I met my two racking neighbors who both had bikes with 650 wheels as well. Oh joy, the world is a better place with more tiny bikes!

Quassy's atmosphere was electric. The pro's transition area was surrounded by giddy fans with cameras, while age-groupers peered over from our congregate transition area to the coveted corner of pro tri bikes. It's not every triathlon in which you're racing alongside (or 2 hours behind!) Mirinda Carfrae and Matty Reed. Volunteers were spraying racers' ankles with some type of wetsuit glide thing-a-ma-hairspray. Quassy's focus on creating a family-friendly weekend was evident in the dozens of kids trailing their dads, holding parents' goggles and water bottles as we all filtered toward the beach start.

Quassy's pro men went off at 6:50 am. It's pretty awesome to see 35 pros dolphin-jump their way from beach to water, then funnel their way to a streamlined pyramid. The females took off 3 minutes later, a bit less graceful in their water entrance but no less impressive. I took a little dip in the water before my wave went off, taking care of some necessary business and getting a couple of strokes in. Chip, Bart, and Sean were already 15-20 minutes well into their 1.2 mile swims, so I hung out by myself and kept track of the gray swim caps in my wave.

At 7:27, my wave lined up. I grabbed a spot toeing the water's edge on the outer right side, and as the race official yelled, "GO!", tried to high-knee-run into the water. Unfortunately, having disproportionately short legs on an already short frame meant that two steps took me thigh-deep, and I dove in. Stroke, stroke, recalibrate, and I was in a comfortable position.

Swim:

Happy times in the water. Clear, warm, and relatively calm. I beelined for the first buoy and quickly found another age-grouper's feet to catch onto. She was holding a steady pace and I just followed her bubbles.
Round the first turn buoy and heading into the sun - sighting became a bit difficult now. I picked up the pace a bit and left my comrade's bubbles.
Final leg of the triangle swim: age-groupers from the waves before me were really struggling. I ran into a crotch, side-swiped a breast-stroker, and tried to avoid the stalled traffic.

Out of the water in 30:17, 2nd in my age group, 10th overall female. - Thanks to my Xterra Vendetta wetsuit for getting me out of the water in good time!

T1:
Per the norm, my wetsuit took a bit of wriggling and pulls to get off, but I was in my bike shoes and Penelope was ready to hit the hills!

Bike:
It sucks to have cycling as your weakest leg because a. it's the longest and b. it doesn't seem that difficult. Swimming is a lot about technique; running about efficiency. Biking? To me, you just turn the pedals. More revolutions per minute mean you go faster, right?

Well, today I was fighting. I'd never ridden more than 40 miles before, so Quassy's 56-mile-bike-leg might be a bit trying on my legs. Those Quassy hills are endless! It seemed like I was getting passed by everyone. OK, that is being generous. I was getting passed by everyone! The only people that I passed were several folks from the older generation who had started in swim waves well ahead of me, and an 18-year-old boy who made a U-turn on the course right in front of me to retrieve a dropped water bottle. I passed him as I swerved to avoid a collision.

Bike split: 3:18:52, dropped to 6th in my AG and 47th overall.
Instead of bemoaning my awful place dropping throughout the bike leg, I'll highlight my favorite bike moment: Accel Key Lime Gels!!! Those things are delicious. I had 2 and I felt like I was having dessert in a plastic baggie while suffering those hills at mile 20 and 40.
Lessons learned: Nothing but the obvious: I gotta work on my biking skills! Time to log 50 mile bike rides on Penelope in the brutal DC heat!

T2: I was so happy to be out of the saddle and in my Zoots! I'll admit, I was a bit worried because I'd just completed the longest bike ride in my life, and I hadn't run more than 10 miles for the past 6 months. Were my legs ready?

Run:
Oh Sweet Hallelujah! A blue Port-a-Potty awaited me at Mile 1 aid station - I couldn't have asked for a better positioning. I had been unable to pee in my wetsuit on the swim (it's impossible, try it someday), and obviously I was not going to defile Penelope by going on the bike, as I've heard some people do. So I was quite excited to see a Port-a-Potty at the first aid station. In and out of that boiling closet; that 30 seconds was well worth it!

Miles 1-6 felt awesome. I was ticking off people like crazy, and it felt like the perfect revenge for my having been passed by the masses on the bike.
Around mile 6, there is a turnaround. I saw 2 girls in my AG who had passed me on the bike about 3/4 mile in front of me. I thought they might be within catching distance, so I set my goal for the next 7 miles as "Gain on and Pass Ms. Pink tri kit and Blue sports bra."

Mile 7 - more than halfway through! Mentally, I was using Mile 9 as a highlight - I knew that the Snapple volunteers would be there with water, Coke, Gu, and pretzels.
Mile 8 - massive, endless hill. Head down, feet churning, then at the crest I turned a corner and we flew downhill.
Mile 9 - thanks to Bill's sister for the water and Greg for the 2nd water!
Mile 11 - another turnaround, and I saw Pink tri kit about a 1/2 mile in front, and Blue Sports bra about 400 meters ahead of me. Time to go!
Last two miles - I couldn't wait to be done. I just wanted water and my stomach was feeling a bit...jammed...like all the Gus that I had taken on the bike were just congealed.
Mile 12 - Passed Blue sports bra! Several hundred meters later, passed Pink tri kit! I was feeling fine now and started to think about Kensington Pizza...
Finish line! The great thing about Quassy is that you hear your name booming across the megaphone as you're coming in for the final 200 meters. Talk about feeling like the whole stadium is cheering for you (when in reality, it's only the race director's enthusiastic voice)! I tried to sprint as best as my limited stride-length legs could...and crossed the line to be met by the Muscle Milk ladies with a
Run Split of 1:39:57.


Finishing Time: 5:32:43, 3rd in AG, 24th overall.


Quassy is as hilly as it gets, but it makes it all the more rewarding. Congrats to fellow Snapple teammates Bart, Sean, and Chip for a great Half-Rev race and to Jim, Audrey, Kristi, and Loren for smashing the Olympic race the day before!

Thanks, Quassy staff and volunteers, for a great race weekend and sore quads!

*And a HUGE THANKS to Chip for waking Bart and me up that morning!

KO-lumbia!!! First Tri of 2011

Two days before Columbia, after a morning swim workout, Zack proudly announced that the Columbia Triathlon could turn into a duathlon. Beaming, he proclaimed that "as of this morning, the bacteria levels in the lake were too high for the water to be safe enough to swim in. It's all that rain from the past week." I glared at his smile, angry that the race I'd been looking forward to for five months might cancel my favorite leg. Bacteria? Psh, babies survive when they stick pennies and snot in their mouths! Columbia shouldn't - they couldn't - cancel the swim.
Sure enough, Facebook soon announced that Howard County had deemed the lake waters had passed the standards. Hallelujah! I danced a silent victory in my work cubicle, relieved that the Rain Gods hadn't caused too much damage.

Morning of the race:
At 4:23 am, Bart woke me up. "Aren't you supposed to be getting ready?"
I panicked. I couldn't have slept in; I'd set 3 alarms on my cell phone! "Whata buta it's not time..." I mumbled as I tried to rally up my senses to start the day. I brushed my teeth and put on my Snapple tri kit, made some extra-strong coffee, and went over my packing list for the fourth time. Turns out that I was the only one ready to do some conquering today; Bart's stomach had been bothering him all night, so I got a good-luck kiss before leaving him standing in his boxers and rubbing his stomach like a mute five-year-old.
Arriving into transition, I quickly found Penelope. It's easy to spot my bike - it's the only one whose front wheel (yes, those would be 650s) can't even touch the ground. She'd been racked the night before and at 5:45 am had dewdrops on her seat and body. I wiped her down, stuck my water bottle in its cage, and pumped up the tires. I'd bought Penelope only 3 weeks before Columbia, after a war with myself over the reasons why I should - and shouldn't - invest in a tri bike. Penelope and I are still very much in the honeymoon phase. Every morning when I see her hanging vertically in the laundry closet, I want to hop on her Adamo saddle and ride, ride, ride.

I set up my bike and run gear on a tiny towel, chatted with some old Team in Training friends, and took one last trip to the Port-A-Potty. Waves of age-groupers were heading out every 8 minutes at the swim start already.
My twin sister Phebe was roaming around near the swim entrance, and I was happy that I found her before I jumped in the water. I was giddy. I couldn't wait to swim a couple of strokes to get my shoulders used to my Xterra Vendetta wetsuit, which I hadn't worn in over 8 months. I pulled on my sexy latex swim cap as the wave before me took off, gave Phebe a quick rundown of where she should go after the swim gun went off, and then it was off to the waters!

(This isn't really the Columbia swim start, but a very large lake not anywhere near Maryland with green, instead of pink swim caps...I didn't have anyone taking pictures for me)

Swim:
Pink caps surrounded me. I was annoyed. My wave combined the Female 25-29 and 30-34 age groups, and I couldn't tell which pink caps lining up at the front row were going to be feet I wanted to catch, and which were going to be run over and clawed through as soon as that gun went off.
At 7:42, we were off. I targeted the first buoy, which happened to be directly in the line of the rising sun, and pushed. I love swimming. I love how natural it feels and how, when my head's underwater, all I'm doing is counting to three and watching the bubbles from my hands. Thanks to Bart's teammate Phil, who had given me a pointer several months back (focus on the follow through of the stroke and accelerate as your hand breaks the water), I settled into a good position. The waters were so muddy that I couldn't see anything, so I just focused on my breathing (1-2-3, 1-2-3) and sighted every 20 strokes. There were no feet to catch, which made me think that I wasn't swimming for the buoys, but soon I came across a struggling grey swim cap that had left in the wave before me. He seemed to be frog-kicking and working harder on splashing than on moving forward horizontally.
Fast forward to the finishing stretch. I saw swimmers merging into one zone, but I have such horrible depth perception that I couldn't tell if the swim finish was 400 meters or 50 meters away. Extend, extend, extend on each stroke, feet on the ground, initial feeling of disorientation as I go vertical...I was stripping out of that wetsuit.
I always struggle to get my wetsuit off because it gets stuck around my ankles. I don't think I have fat ankles, that just seems to be the problem zone for me. This time, I got the wetsuit off my left leg without a problem. Right foot. I tugged and tugged. Why wasn't my wetsuit sliding off? Turns out I was pulling on my chip anklet and my wetsuit, trying to slip both of them off in a rush to hop on Penelope. Oops! I finally got that wetsuit off, buckled my helmet, and hoisted Penelope off the metal rack and out onto the bike course.

Joy ride on Penelope:
Bike felt awesome. I don't believe I have ever said that before! For the first 5 miles, I was dripping from my tri shorts. That thin chamois pad can still retain a lotta water! I don't really think about anything technical, strategical, or worthwhile when I'm biking, so I won't pretend that I focused on my cadence or my aero-ness. Here's what really goes on in Mindy's world when I'm on the bike:
"I hate pointy helmets. That guy looks like a dork and he's getting passed by a 5-foot chick now."
"That guy has four water bottles for a 40K bike? A bit too much agua there, buddy."
"I wonder whether the pros are finishing now."
"Ooooh, nice bike."
"I wonder if Bart's feeling better."
"It's the Eye of the Tiger, it's the cream of the fight..."
"Is that a 15 on his calf!?!?! A 15-year-old boy is passing me?!?!"
"These roundabouts suck."
Alright, so the great thing about Columbia, besides the awesome hills, is the fact that it's a one-loop lollipop course. None of this double-loop crap.
Volunteers started screaming at me to "Slow down! Sloooooooooo dowwwwwn!!!" about 400 meters from T2. Alright, buddy, I'm not going to run into any spectators.
The bike dismount line was a disaster. There were four men trying to clip out at a dead stop on top of the dismount line. No joke. I ran between a bald guy and a hairy guy and into T2.

Run, Forrest, Run!
Pink Zoots on (love those babies), race belt on, visor in hand! I started on the 10K run course, grabbed a water from the first aid station, and slammed the water into my face. It was getting hot without any wind blowing in my face. I started to pass some of the guys who had passed me earlier on the bike. A lot of people seemed to struggle with the hills, choosing to walk. My pace felt good. I'd done some short brick workouts earlier in the year, but my legs didn't really feel like I'd just done 40K on the bike. It helped that there were plenty of aid stations - I grabbed a water at each one and splashed myself in the face with it.


Best part of the run course? Between mile 3 and 4, there were a couple of neighborhood kids with water guns. I locked eyes with one of the little punks and they both sprayed me, bending backwards like they were shooting full-ammo guns. Thanks, boys. That water was perfect.
Sometime during Mile 4, I got redemption. The skinny 15-year-old pre-pubescent boy who had passed me on the bike got chicked on the run. Never mind that I am nearly twice his age and have reached my full physical maturity; I wasn't about to be beaten by a middle-schooler wearing spandex that sagged around his skinny quads.
Mile 5 I got passed by an older guy wearing a red kit. No way, man. I hadn't been passed by anyone on the run yet, so I wasn't about to let it happen at mile 5. I stuck right behind him, thinking that he would break before the finish line. I could tell he knew I was right behind him, and we worked to push each other.
Mile 6, home stretch. Red kit guy and I started ticking off the people who were holding on for the last several hundred meters. He pulled away and I tried to match him, but let's be honest: my short, squat legs were never meant for sprinting. During the last 20 meters, I heard Phebe yelling my name: "Go!! Mindy!! GOOOOOO!!!"

Finish line: I love Columbia's volunteers. A girl handed me a water, another donned me with my finisher's medal, and a third unstrapped my timing chip for me. What a great crew. I congratulated my friend Scott, found Phebe (who had been worrying since T1 that I was still on the bike course with a flat, as she hadn't seen me enter or exit T2), and spent the rest of the afternoon with Beth and Kristen as we cheered Karmen into the finish.

Love this race. The weather was beautiful, the swim was soothing, and the hills were epic. I'll definitely be back next year!! It was awesome to see Snapple do so well at this race among the elite heats. Can't wait for summer as the tri season really gets going and Haines Point pool opens up for lunchtime swims!
Time: 2:30:06
2nd in AG, 26th female overall
Swim: 21:57
T1: 2:03
Bike: 1:19:44
T2: 1:07
Run: 45:17

Next stop: Quassy Half-Rev, June 5!