Sunday, August 26, 2012 By: Kate

Utah Half 2012

This was the event I have been planning and training for all year.  I have been dreading it for the past 3 months; afraid I wouldn't be able to accomplish it.  Surprisingly, the day before the race, I was able to compartmentalize my mind, so it didn't really hit me that the race was tomorrow until after I finished teaching for the day and started heading home from work.  Once THE RACE was the next thing on the agenda, that's when I really started stressing out.  So I guess it is a good thing I only had to go through the physical reactions to stress for a few hours instead of a few days!

It was like how I felt before my first half marathon, only multiplied by 10.  I thought I might be sick.

Early evening of the day before the race, my right hip started hurting deep in the joint.  It was more like an ache... it felt like it needed to pop.  That got me really paranoid!

(Hey guys, the next paragraph mentions female body parts and processes.  If you want, you can skip ahead to the next paragraph and we won't think any less of you.)

As if I wasn't nervous enough already, Aunt Flo stopped by for her monthly visit on the night before the race!  I hadn't even thought about how to deal with that kind of hygiene issue while on an all day kind of race.  I was worried about possible cramping during the race.  Not to mention how much more painful this was going to make my time on the bike, since lady parts get touchy and sensitive when Aunt Flo comes over.  In the end, I decided not to deal with Aunt Flo at all and just let that be one more layer of gross-ness that can be showered off after the race was over.  That strategy worked well for me, by the way.  Sorry.  I know that seems gross, but you do what you gotta do.

(Okay, guys.  You can come back now.)

The night before the race we had our normal Friday date night at Rubio's.  I packed my tri bag and my special needs bag.  Will loaded his windsurf board on top of the car (hoping for good wind while waiting for me during the race, it wasn't to be).  I had a second dinner of chicken and pasta.  I went to bed early.

On the morning of the race, I dragged myself out of bed at 5 am.  Bill did a last minute tune up of my bike and got it loaded on the car.  The kids slowly emerged from their bedrooms, and I actually managed to eat my entire breakfast and felt surprisingly calm.  I think it helped that I was alone in the kitchen at the time.  People talking to me about all things pertaining to the event seems to kill my ability to swallow.  I took a dose of naproxen sodium to keep swelling down and prevent joint pain, too.

We got down to the Provo marina just after 6 am.  The pre race meeting was scheduled to start at 6:20 and the race was supposed to begin at 7 am.  In the meantime, I had to get my number painted on (293), pick up and put on my timing chip (it goes around your ankle), set up my transition station, and get into my wetsuit.

It was a big transition station.  And mostly already full.  I wasn't the last to arrive, but the transition opened up at 4 am, so I was looking at just getting whatever space I could find.  However, I found just the perfect spot!  Transition is so big, and has so many bikes in it, that it can be hard to find yours if you aren't paying close attention to details.  The racks have row letters painted in the center aisle, starting with A, going through the alphabet, and repeating with double letters beyond that (I think mine was DD, or something like that).  But I had a better marker.  My bike was close to the lake and lined up perfectly with the exit ramp from the swim!

The pre-race meeting started late and because of that, the race also started late.  Instead of a 7 am start, I think the first wave of swimmers started at 7:27.  Or maybe it was 7:37.  Either way, it ended in a 7 because I did look at my watch.  I was in the last wave again.  Bill and the kids looked forward to watching me in the swim, but they weren't confident they'd be able to find me.  The joke was, "just look for the swimmer in the black wetsuit and the green cap."  Most people were in black wetsuits and the green cap was required for the race.  Still, with my pink goggles and the huge bump in the back of my swim cap made by my hair, they said they were able to spot me.

All my pre-race nerves washed away the moment I stepped into the water.  I had no thoughts beyond what was right in front of me... the swim.  I was committed.  It had begun.  The water was calm.  Flat.  Even if it was murky Utah Lake water.  Some final start line instructions through a megaphone and we're off!

There was lots of thrashing.  Lots of accidentally kicking someone and being kicked.  Or hit by flailing arms.  I think there is just no way around that.  I have a bruise on my left forearm that must be from someone kicking me.  We had to do 2 laps around the buoys.  My wave got into the swim course as the pros and men were starting their second lap, so the course was crowded.  I kept swimming off to my left and getting farther from the buoys than I wanted to.  However, it did get me out of the heavy traffic flow and I was able to settle down into my swim rhythm, which is something I couldn't do in last week's sprint.

Here's a secret about the Utah Half swim.  One fourth of the course is in shallow enough water to put your feet down and walk.  If you don't mind deep, soft, slimy mud, that is.  I found this out when I went to practice the course several weeks ago.  Apparently, there were plenty of people willing to put their feet in that mud, too.  I saw several walkers on the back stretch.  And, I admit it.  I did put my feet down for a few moments to rest on the second lap.  I even walked a few steps to catch my breath.  But only a few, I promise!

I know.  CHEAT!  Ah well.  It was only a couple of steps.  I didn't walk the entire section, as I saw others do.

Another thing I have noticed about the swim portion of triathlons is... backstroke is a BAD IDEA.  I can't tell you how many backstrokers I've seen headed off in the wrong direction!  Some into the center of the course, others out to sea (so to speak).  So, unless you are rockstar at keeping a straight course while stroking on your back... stick to front crawl and breast stroke so you can see where you are going!!!  Work out whatever issues you have with technique or breathing, because it is NOT worth it to end up massively off course in the middle of a race.  I do front crawl all the way, using breast stroke only to take a breather if I need one.

I had one bad moment in the swim halfway through when I suddenly started gagging and retching.  I don't know why, but I did manage to get it under control and keep swimming.  Finally I was in the last stretch of the swim and headed to the exit ramp.  Oh, that was the longest part of the swim!

I finished the swim in just under 51 minutes.  Not as fast as my pool swims by a long shot, but I was happy with how I'd done.

Will was waiting on the ramp for me.  He wanted to help me out of the water, but an official got to me first.  It was just as well, because I had forgotten to mention to the kids (and Bill, for that matter) that it was against the rules for me to accept help from anyone except officials and volunteers.  I gave Will a big, wet hug anyway and jogged off to the transition and my bike.

Helena came running up to congratulate me on the swim.  She and Will kept me company (through the fence) while I stripped off my wetsuit and got into my cycling gear.  It took me longer in transition because the kids were there, but I don't care.  I'd rather have my kids there showing me their love and support than have a fast transition time.  Bill was down at the car getting his bike ready.  The bike course was all on public roads, so I asked him if he would ride it with me, for moral support.  Besides, if I got a flat, I'd need him to fix it for me, rules or no rules.  I haven't learned that skill, yet.  I know.  My bad.  He was not the only non-competitor along the course.  There were lots of locals taking advantage of the policed course to get their personal workouts in.

Fortunately, I didn't get a single flat.  But we found other people stranded on the side of the road, and Bill always stopped to help them.  I'd keep going and he would catch up as soon as he could.  The first time was just right outside the marina park.  Bill said it took him 3 miles to catch up to me that time.  Another time Bill stopped to help a rider, the guy had already had 4 flats (we hadn't gotten to the half way point, yet) and a torn side wall on his tire.  Bill offered to give him a new tire (he was packing one for me... just in case), but the guy said 'no thanks, I'm done' and quit the race.  That was the first one I saw that could not complete the race.  Not the last.

The bike was 56 miles of beautiful rural countryside.  Mostly.  There was a little city riding, but there were cops at every intersection stopping traffic for us.  I loved that!  Early on I decided to go around 17 mph and keep to that pace.  That's only 1 mph over my training speed, so I felt it was doable.  I ended up averaging 17.5 mph, so my plan worked!

I picked up a bottle of Gatorade at the fueling station at the 15 mi mark.  I'd never snatched a bottle mid-ride before.  The volunteers hold them out to the riders as they ride past.  I'm proud of myself for managing to do it without crashing.  Most riders squirt as much of the liquid as possible into their mouths (or water pouches if they are on fancy/expensive tri bikes), then chuck the bottles to the side of the road for the volunteers to pick up later.  I stuck it in my extra bottle cage and kept it for the rest of the ride.

The ride was an out and back.  At the turn around (28 miles), there were volunteers waiting to bring special needs bags to the riders when they call out their bib number.  Most riders quickly stuff whatever they had packed into their jersey (or where ever) and are on their way in 30 seconds or less.

Not me.  I full on stopped and unclipped.  I was probably there for 10 minutes, just eating what I had packed.  I'm not good at eating while I'm riding.  So I stood there and ate my banana, protein drink, and whatever else I'd put in there for calories to make it to the next refueling back at transition.

I have to say that during the first half of the bike, I'd passed a lot of people.  They all blasted past me while I had my picnic at the turn around.  But the interesting thing is...

... on the second half of the bike, I passed them all back again, plus a few more people as well!  Many of them weren't able to sustain the same speed in the second half of the bike as they had in the first.  I maintained the same speeds throughout.  So I think the picnic turned out to be a good idea in the end.

Oh, and I can't tell you how good it felt to pass those 22 and 23 year old men.  And that one 36 year old guy that got so upset about me passing him, yet he couldn't manage to catch back up to me.  Hee, hee.  (Sorry.  Not very sporting of me.)

I can't thank Bill enough for coming with me on the bike!  He made it fun and relaxing, just like one of our normal training rides together.  So, thanks again, sweetheart!  You rock!

The watering station at mile 41 came up much faster than I'd expected, and before you know it, I was counting down the last 6 miles of the bike.  I wasn't sure what my increased pace on the bike was going to do to my running legs... the segment of the race I dreaded the most.

Back in transition, I took another dose of naproxen sodium, since I knew it had been 6 or more hours since the last dose.  I ate another banana and some other sport beans & Gu while I switched from my biking gear to my running gear.  I really spent a lot of time in transition this time, nearly 10 minutes!  But the kids were so happy to see me and hear about the bike that I spent some time talking to them while Bill put his bike away in the car and hurried to join them and wish me luck on the run.

Okay, I was also stalling because I really didn't want to do the run.  I still had to run a half marathon and all I really wanted to do was go jump back in the lake!

But, I couldn't stop now, with the swim and bike over, I was 2/3 done.  And, early that morning, I had written a message to myself on my left forearm.  "YouCanDoThis".  Just in case it was ever in doubt.



So, finally, I said goodbye to the family and headed out on the run.

Running without music is HARD.  I spent most of my time counting my breaths.  Sixty breaths of running.  20 breaths of walking.  Repeat.  I knew if I just ran without taking breaks, I wouldn't make it. So, I created intervals that I could sustain over the long haul.  I knew my time would be slower than a normal half marathon, but I thought it would be acceptable considering what I'd already gone through that day.  I was just hoping to come in under 3 hours on the run.  And I did!  2 hours 54 minutes.

The run is by far the most social part of the race.  The competitors can finally see eye to eye and chat with one another as they pass on the route.  Don't get me wrong, we were friendly on the bike, too, but the run was more so.  It was a two lap course, so there we were passing each other coming and going.  Lots of high fives and encouragement for each other.  Care and concern when you could see someone struggling.  I saw a man give up on the race during what I think was his second lap of the run.  Others were doubling over with nausea, but managed to keep going.  One awesome older gentleman was hobbling along with both knees in braces and a grimace on his face, but he never gave up.

I met a 34 year old woman named Lynette.  We ran together for about 1/2 a mile until she had to drop back.  She said this was her third year doing this race, and she's come in dead last in her division every year, but she just keeps coming and doing it anyways.  She had a great attitude about it.  She said that she may be slow, but only 1% of the world's population has ever participated in a triathlon, and only 1% of that group has ever attempted 70.3 or bigger.  I don't know if her figures are accurate, but they inspired her to keep going.  Several people congratulated me after the race on joining the 'elite' athletes, since this was my first monster race.  I laughed at that, because I don't consider myself an athlete, let alone an 'elite' one.

I have to say that the aid stations on the run were the best I've ever seen! They were roughly every mile.   There was water, Heed (an electrolyte drink), Gatorade, Coke (I tried it at one station and decided it was a bad idea... carbonation, no), gels, ice, and salt tablets.  Oh, and every other aid station had a kid maning a hose to spray down any athlete who wanted it.  I was carrying Will's phone (I'd forgotten mine at home), but I mostly managed to keep his phone dry AND get hosed off every single time.

For a few miles towards the end, my left ankle was hurting, and so was my right knee.  But after a while, they stopped hurting.  It's as if they decided since I wasn't paying attention, they'd just play nice.

I used the phone to text my position to the family periodically, starting at mile 7, so they would know when to position themselves at the finish and cheer.  By the end of the run, I was counting 20 breaths running, 20 breaths walking.  But, I made it!  I crossed the finish line with Bill, Helena, Will... and my brother, Erik, and his wife, Deanna, there to cheer me on!  I thought it was so awesomely sweet of Erik and Deanna to make time in their day to come see me finish!!!

After cooling down and visiting for a while, I discovered that Helena had gotten some specialized markers and wrote messages to me all over my car!  She was afraid I might get mad, but I loved it!  We got so many curious looks from other motorists on the freeway as we drove home.





The finisher's medal is a seriously heavy piece of hardware.  It felt cool wearing it and I was proud to earn it, but I can't help wondering just what, exactly, I'm supposed to do with it now (along with the others I've collected).  I think I'll get a curtain rod and install it on a wall in the back hall and hang them from that.  Bill can hang his, too.

Now I feel sore, tired, and hungry.  I calculated that I burned between 5,500 and 6,100 calories that day.  I have no idea how many I ingested.  Not that many, for sure.  Not even by half.

So, everything I eat today tastes absolutely AMAZING.  Really.  I don't think scrambled eggs have ever tasted so good!

However, I feel amazingly good!  Not as sore as I was after my first ever half marathon two years ago.

 I still can't believe I did it.  It didn't feel so huge while I was in the middle of doing it.  Just one step at a time until you get to the end and realize you just traveled 70.3 miles!

I'll stop rambling now and move on with my life.  Thanks for sticking with this extremely long winded post!  And thanks to all of you for your kindness, friendship, and encouragement along the journey!



Oh, and what's next, you ask?

Red Rock Relay - Zion

in two weeks.

****

Official Record

PlaceBibName                       DivSwim   T1   Bike      T2   Run    Official

302293Katharina WatsonF404450:575:533:19:219:382:54:137:20:00.4

5 comments:

Bridget said...

Whoa Whoa Whoa. Hold the phone. First things first, you most definitely an athlete! And an amazing and inspiring one at that! You did so awesome!! Especially with Flo along for the ride. Just incredible.
I love how Bill rode with you and helped people too, and I totally teared when I read what Helena did to your car. I'm such a sap.
Congrats Aunt Kate!!

sariqd said...

Your family has been so super in supporting you with this. That made me tear up to read of them waiting for you, cheering you on and Bill being with you too.

Awesome.
Awesome.
Awesome.

Love you, girl. You inspire me!

Kate said...

Thank you ladies! Love you both! And Bridget, I just wish I had been a lifetime athlete like you instead of a late bloomer! Congrats on your marathon, too! I thought of you during my race.

Paula said...

WOW! You are an inspiration. What a great example you are to your kids and those around you. Thanks for sharing your experience!

BellaMichella said...

That made me tear up. I am so proud of you! Good Job!