Mission Accomplished! (Jesse James 2013)

So, way back in December, I came up with a list of goals for the year.   Some were lofty, some were not, but one of the ones that I had in the back of my mind all season was to finish a century before the massage people left.   After my stunning failure in Wisconsin to do a century, I was feeling a little gun shy going into the 2013 Jesse James Century ride.   In fact, as late as the day of, I hadn't even really decided I was even going to try.   "Maybe," I thought, "I just don't have the legs for 100 miles this year."

Saturday dawned with nearly perfect weather.   No wind, warm, and pretty much perfect for hammering some miles.   So, as I drove to Northfield, I decided I was going to tell myself I was doing the 100 mile route until it was too late to change my mind.   There was only one teensy tiny wrinkle in my perfect day.   The weather, which was lovely at 6:30 AM, was projected to get into the 90's by midday.   I, being a large person and (more importantly) Norwegian, do not handle heat well.    Still, it was a well supported ride and I figured with a steady supply of cold water I'd be fine.

There is absolutely no way one of those hats is touching my head.

The OBCers gathered for our picture and then rolled out en masse.   Natural selection took its course, and soon the group had sorted in to A and B groups, with a few folks like me strung between them.    I had already resigned myself to riding the century solo, so I tried not to worry about it, and just rolled at my own pace.   Ready to distract me from my solitude was Sogn Valley, or more specifically, the climb out of it.  Last year, the climb had seemed very difficult and as my climbing has been crap, I wasn't sure how it would treat me this year.   Of course, immediately before the climb, there is a rest stop, so I stopped to get a banana quickly and chat with a few of the bike club folks who rolled up behind me.   However, with my goal firmly in mind, I didn't waste any time, and was back on the bike shortly.

The climb was...anti-climatic.   After falling apart on the hills in Wisconsin, I was prepared to grind up the valley roads, but honestly, I didn't even really notice them.  I mean, I'm sure I wasn't setting any speed records, but I was able to spin my way comfortably along.     The only eventful part of the climb was getting to the top where, unfortunately, a couple of cyclist had crashed out pretty badly.   I was actually passed by the ambulance on the way up the road.   I did see one of them at the end, so hopefully they didn't have any serious injuries.   

Riders at a rest stop in the early morning

After Sogn Valley, the century route turned a new direction.   Instead of heading west, the route went east and south to Kenyon with a stop in Wanamingo.   These roads were perfect.   Mostly flat and buttery smooth, I was flying along and taking in the views around me.   I really do love the Midwest this time of year, and I had a perfect opportunity to see why.   As a product, I suspect, of the accident, I found myself in a large gap where I didn't see any other riders for a long stretch of time.  I did start to get worried I'd missed a turn, but just as I started to get out my map and check, I rolled up to the rest stop.

Two things happened at Wanamingo.  1) I ran into a couple of club riders, and grouped up with them for the rest of the ride and 2) I got cold water.   This is noteworthy because it would be the last time I got cold water for the better part of 4 hours.   

Surprise!

Sometimes, I make my best decisions on a whim.  Some who know me might say all my decisions are made this way, but that's another discussion.   Take, for example, last week.   After watching my friends do their half-Ironman, the tri bug was riding me hard.   So, sitting at work, I looked once again at the website for the St. Croix Valley Tri and at the weather forecast for the weekend.  Then, before I had time to stop myself I put an email out the tri group asking, basically, for people to peer pressure me into showing up for the tri.

Boy, oh boy, did they respond!  Suddenly I had not only race companions for the day, but a veritable army of spectators.    Gulp.   It was one thing to ask for people to come do the tri with me.  Having people watch me??   Something else entirely.  I was under no illusions -  this wasn't going to be pretty and I wasn't entirely sold on the idea of having my fast and talented friends on hand to witness my bumbling attempts up close and personal.  Still, it was nice to have the support.

A week of temps in the 90s meant that the water was warm - almost too warm, really.   The announcer said it was 78F and I believe it.  The swim leg took place in Lake Saint Croix, a wide, shallow portion of the St. Croix river.   The lake is so shallow, in fact, that the vast majority of the swim course was actually walk-able.  The swim was 1/3 of a mile, otherwise known as my longest swim on the year, hands down.   Buoyed by the fact that drowning would be next to impossible (see what I did there??), I decided I was going to just take it nice and slow, and slow it was.  I was 183 of 197 out of the water, which is actually surprisingly good.   I didn't stand, though, and I think I swam a pretty straight line, so I'll count it as a win.

Once on the bike, I had a moment to regret never doing a swim/bike brick.  My legs were jelly and my heart was racing for what felt like fifteen minutes.  I wanted so badly to take a drink of water, but the road was so bumpy that I didn't dare let go of the handlebars.   Eventually, I got control of my breathing and settled into my pace.  I had deliberately not brought my Garmin, because I felt it was best I just did what I could without electronics telling me to go faster (or slower!).   The nice thing about being out of the water so late is that I had plenty of people to catch.  I passed a lot of folks, and the only ones passing me were on shiny carbon tri bikes.   For the bike, I was 80th overall...not too shabby.  The only downside to the bike was that it was too short, only 10 miles.  I did learn that I desperately need to learn to a) corner and b) ride on rough roads though.

The run was...well, a run.   I don't really like running yet, and this run was a long one for me.  4.1 miles, which tied my longest run EVER, that was accomplished much earlier in the year and after I had been running an awful lot more than I have been lately.    Honestly, prior to Saturday I had run twice since getting the all clear from my doctor.   I did my best to keep running, but after a mile, I knew I was never going to finish if I didn't walk a bit to keep my heart rate down.   So, I walked, though I made sure I never walked for long, and I tried to make sure no one I knew saw me doing it.  The distance was hard, though the return trip on the out and back went pretty fast.   On the final approach to the finish line, a guy pulled up next to me and said something along the lines of "let's do this" and we sprinted in together.  This resulted in, amongst other things, some really unfortunate finish line photos of me.  

This isn't one of them - you don't get to see those.

Honestly, it was an awesome experience.   Crossing the finish line while the announcer said my name (first name only, of course) and my friends cheered me on was amazing.   I wasn't sure what to expect - I read these stories of people tearing up and feeling this great sense of accomplishment when they finish their first tri.  It wasn't that for me -- I can't really describe it.  Mostly, it was a sense of affirmation, coupled with a desire to do better next time.    I'll take it.    (I finished 174 overall, and 64/96 for women...so improving shouldn't be too hard.)

Superior Man Tri - Spectator's Report

I have to say, it's a rather daunting task attempting to chronicle the epic achievements of your fellows.   That is my excuse for sitting this long on my report from Superior Man Tri.   For those not in the know, a few weekends ago a large group of the local tri group went up to Duluth to pit themselves against the rigors of a half Ironman distance triathlon.   A half is no joke -- 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike and a 13.1 mile run.   It's a crazy thing to do at the best of times, and this particular day was brutally hot.

The day before - bright eyed and bushy tailed