Finish Line Fantasies : Things Don't Always Go as Planned: Rev3 Williamsburg Race Report

Well, you win some you lose some – one of the beauties of life I suppose. This past weekend I participated in the half iron distance tri at Rev3 Williamsburg, this was a big race for me as the pro prize purse allowed it to be designated as an elite qualifying race. Having had a month off since school ended and the past two weeks to just relax with Ian in Virginia Beach, I felt very strong going into the race; everything just felt like it was falling into place. When race morning arrived, I felt very ready to go. I had a new (to me) bike computer, my nutrition was well planned out, my bike was ready, and I had a plan for the entire race.

Unfortunately things do not always go as planned. Before I start, I need to state that I am not blaming my end result on anything I am about to state - I have never had a race go perfectly as planned so I cannot imagine anyone else's do either. It all comes down to how we deal with the cards we are dealt on race day and I did not deal overly well.

To begin, the swim was a bit rough to say the least. The race began with a beach start in an area where the water did not reach knee depth for about 30-40 yards and was not waist deep (even on me) for at least 100. This format resulted in many of the athletes opting to wade out into the water for several minutes before beginning to swim. Further, there was a delayed start and consequently condensed sendoff times. These two factors resulted in a perfect storm of four waves of athletes converging at once at the first turn buoy about 400 yards into the race; I had to all but crawl over a mess of at least 100 athletes converging within a 10 foot radius of the buoy before being able to swim again. Once free, it was a fight against was and a cross-current forcing me to sight about every four strokes. That said, I swam smart and gave it my all despite being broiled from inside my seal suit (the water was about 77.9 degrees – barely wetsuit legal) and was pleasantly surprised to be told I was in the lead position coming out of the water (despite a time nearly six minutes slower than I had expected).

Transition started well but I hadn't accounted for running my bike over some fairly bumpy grass and the banana pieces I had attached to my bike somehow flew off leaving me down two rounds of race nutrition. On the bike, I quickly realized that my bike computer wasn’t working so I was without distance and speed data. Fortunately, I was still on a high over being in the lead and was able to keep from panicking and recalibrate my nutrition plan. Though the course was much more rolling and a bit more technical than the I expected, the ride was overall very lovely and fun to ride. After passing a pro athlete about fifteen miles in, I started to get visions of myself not in third as I had hoped but instead on top of the podium – bad idea. Not long after, I was passed for the first time. I did my best to keep the gap at a minimum but eventually decided it was best to not ruin my run legs chasing after another cyclist.

Around mile 25 I experienced my next nutritional difficulty. I had split my Powerade between two bottles and watered it down meaning I was carrying two full bottles with the plan of picking one more up along the course. However, when it came time to delve into my second bottle, I managed to break the nozzle and drop it. Crap. By the time I reached the aid station a bit past mile 35, I was parched and starting to feel light headed. I had a perfect hand-up only to find the bottle I received was all but child locked and I spilt half of it in my attempt to open the bottle itself which meant I had a half bottle of water to get me through the next 20 miles. Other than that, things were going fairly well until about mile 50 when I nearly hit a deer and was overtaken by another woman bringing me into third place. Needless to say, I was beyond relieved when I finally saw transition approaching ahead of me.

Out on the run, all started fairly well; I was maintaining my goal pace and gaining time on the women ahead of me. While I was definitely hurting, there was still a smile on my face until right around mile 8 when it all fell apart. Despite taking in a few gels and grabbing water at every aid station, I bonked pretty hard and my splits became dramatically slower. While I was still gaining on the leaders, the amount of gain had become marginal and the woman behind me was coming up fast. I held on as hard as I could, but with about .3 miles of the 70.3 mile race left to go, I was overtaken and slipped into fourth.

Crossing the finish line, I was too delirious to be devastated. A fancy wheelchair trip into the med tent uncovered that I was extremely dehydrated and had a body temperature of 103 degrees. I was quickly put into an enormous ice bath and an IV was stuck into my arm. Before long, I was physically feeling good enough for the tears to come. More than anything I felt disbelief; in a race that neared five hours, I missed my dream by a mere 28 seconds.

I’ve gotten used to letting my body heal after a race but this past week I also had to allow space for my mind and my heart to heal. The thing is, I have faced disappointment before. While I never see it in the moment, every time I have faced failure or heartbreak it has lead me on a path of something so much better. I am confident that what is meant to happen will happen when it is meant to happen. There are many lessons to be learned through failure. For example, I know there are small tweaks in my nutrition, sleep, training, and recovery that I have let slide in the past – there’s nothing like a 28 second margin to inspire you to address them. Though my ego is still a bit bruised (hey, maybe my ego was the lesson), I am more determined than ever and I just keep pushing forward!