Braving the elements, surviving the duathlon

A few scattered thoughts about the 2012 Falls Duathlon I raced in last weekend in Cannon Falls (apologies for the tardiness, I was waiting for event photos I could add to to the post):

My running faces look weird

• It would be impossible to describe this race without mentioning the weather conditions. Simply put: They were brutal, among the harshest I've ever raced in (right up there with a 5K I ran the day after freezing rain turned the course into Level 4 of Super Mario 2). According to the Weather Channel website, temps at race time hovered in high 30s and low 40s, which would have been fine if Minnesota wasn't coming off one of the warmest winters on record. Like most Minnesotans, I was spoiled by a steady stream of "sunny and 60" days in March and early April. So when the weather turned south, it was a bit of shock to my system. Adding to the misery was a steady diet of rain and 10-15 mph winds coming from the NNE, which meant that the first half of the duathlon's 14-mile down-and-back bike course was almost directly into the wind. Add it all up, and racers were in for a tough day.
• For me, the weather conditions created an unnecessary conundrum when it came time to figure out what outfit to wear for the race. I initially planned for the usual t-shirt and shorts combo. However, when I checked the weather on race day before heading to Cannon Falls, I switched to a longsleeve running shirt in anticipation of the rain. I thought about bringing warmer clothes just in case (longsleeve spandex, stocking hat, gloves, ect.), but I've always been reluctant to layer up for a race. I tend to warm up quickly while running and once had to take layers off during a half marathon because I was overheating, leading to the wonderfully awkward situation of hopping a fence to get my shirt back after the race (my legs were pretty beat up from the run so it probably looked hilarious). Because of that mindset, I left the extra layers at home instead of bringing them along just in case. Decision-making was never my strong suit at 7 a.m.
• This was my first multi-sport event in almost three years and the first duathlon I've ever raced in, so I really didn't know what to expect. I felt like I was in pretty decent shape for it, but for whatever reason, I had a hard time getting into a regular running/biking training routine. It seemed like I would get three or four good workout days strung together, followed by taking a weekend off the visit family and friends. I did my fair share of 1-hour workouts on the trainer bike and got up to the point of doing 3-5 mile runs about four times a week, but I never worked up to my previous levels (at my peak, I was doing 40-50 mile bike rides followed by 8-10 mile runs). Pretty much all I knew was that I wouldn't have to do any swimming, which I was more than OK with.
• I've never been big on spending a lot of money to be a multisport athlete. I don't own high-tech running shoes or socks, never invested in brand-name running attire and my bike is still the $85 steel road bike I bought from a pawn shop four years ago (albeit with a fair amount of modifications on my part). I guess I'm a little weird in that way; I'm dedicated when it comes to training for events, but not so much when it comes to buying the equipment used by serious athletes. Consequently, I don't expect myself to take first place in race; usually I'm just racing against myself.



I'm probably cursing the weather
under my breath at this point

• As par for the course, Mark Bongers and the staff at Final Stretch put on a first-class event. The race was well-organized and every volunteer knew what they were doing. Final Stretch even had the state of mind to have have coffee and hot chocolate promptly ready at the finish line, as well as extra tents put up to help get people out of the rain. Really, the only complaint I have is that the race t-shirt I got was likely sized for a female (large-sized t-shirts should not be cutting off the circulation in my arms).

As far as my race experience goes, it breaks down like this:

• First run stage went about as well as can be expected. I kept a good steady pace and didn't wear myself out at all. I haven't done a 2-mile run in a race setting before, so I really didn't know what pace to go at. Might be something to work on in the future.
• First transition went smoothly; pretty much just grabbed my bike and went. However, because I warmed up from the run, I opted not to throw on a sweatshirt at the last second. Bad move.
• Bike stage was admittedly pretty rough. The wind started to wear on me after the first few miles and my legs and hands were pretty much numb by the end of it. The lone saving grace was having the wind at my back for the last seven miles.
• Second transition likely took several seconds longer than the first (I couldn't tell you exactly, the results didn't have transition times listed) because I was a little disoriented from the biking and it took me about 30 seconds to take my bike helmet off (stupid numb hands).
• Second run stage started off pretty rough because my legs basically felt like cinder blocks thanks to the biking and cold weather. However, I found a decent group of runners early on and managed to keep a steady pace with them.

Overall, I'm satisfied with how I did. I didn't handle the elements as well as I could have, nor did I train as well as I have in previous events, but I thought I did a good job hanging tough and getting through it. I finished 33rd out of 238 overall, so I can't complain too much.

Doing the Du

I've competed in a decent variety of races over the years: everything from 5K's to marathons distance-wise with a few triathlons sprinkled in to mix things up.

I've also signed up for stuff for reasons that went beyond traditional competitive motives. I did the Monster Dash as an excuse to see some outlandish Halloween costumes and did the Warrior Dash last year because the obstacle course sounded fun and registration came with a free beer (to be perfectly honest, I have no idea what my time or placing was in either of those events, nor do I really care). Likewise, I signed up for RAGBRAI two years ago instead of triathlons because I was burned out with competing and wanted to do something different.

This spring, I'll be breaking new ground again when I race in my first duathlon on April 28 in Cannon Falls. I juuuuussst signed up for it today after spending the last 6 weeks or so trying to talk myself into it (sadly, the registration did not come with free beer). It's a 2-mile run, 14-mile bike and 3-mile run, in that order. I picked this race in particular for three reasons: 1.) It's relatively cheap, 2.) It's fairly close to Faribault and 3.) The distances seem pretty easy.

It's a little weird that it's taken me this long to sign up for a duathon. After all, the skills required for it fit me pretty well. Swimming has always been my weakest event in triathlons, and by weakest, I mean slow to the point of being embarrassing. I've never been much of a swimmer and, if given the choice, I'd go biking everyday, run every other day and let my swimming gear collect dust in the closet.

If anything, it's a wonder why I competed in five triathlons and didn't think to myself: "Wait, if I did a duathlon I wouldn't have to swim. That sounds much better!"

Truthfully, disinterest would be the biggest reason why it took me so long to come to that realization. I haven't done a multi-sport event in almost three years, instead opting to focus on road races (my ill-fated attempt to qualify for Boston's Marathon) and using my bike for more adventurous endeavors (RAGBRAI and my Kato-to-Lanesboro trip, to name a couple).

I didn't really have an interest in doing another tri unless it involved racing with friends or doing a relay with friends. It was getting boring doing the training by myself and I reached a point where I knew I could complete triathlons and do fairly well in them. I also had no interest in building up to something like a full Ironman (too much time commitment required for the training).

Really, I just wasn't excited about multi-sport events anymore. To quote B.B. King: "The thrill is gone."

It wasn't until I got an indoor bike trainer for Christmas (again, thanks mom) that I started thinking about competing again. With each passing workout on the trainer, I began to get that old feeling running through my head: the curiosity of how well I'd do if I signed up for a race. After that, it was only a matter of time before I got over the metaphorical hump and actually registered for something.

Signing up for a race is always a big step. It means you've advanced beyond the "talking about it" phase and moved into the "crap, I should probably train for this" phase. You've committed yourself financially to it, so you might as well get your money's worth and commit yourself physically to it.

To be honest, I have no idea how the race is going to go. There are a lot of amazing athletes in those races and I certainly won't be at an advantage equipment-wise (remember, I'm still rolling with an $85 road bike from the '80's, complete with all-steel frame).

But at the very least, I'm excited for it. Considering I haven't been excited for multi-sport events in a long time, that's saying something.

Here's to hoping for some good training rides in the coming weeks!