Syracuse 70.3 report - long
It's ironic that I dislike driving more than 30 miles, but going 70.3 under my own power is an exciting adventure.
As I stood on the edge of Jamesville Reservoir eager to put my body to the test, I couldn't help but reflect upon these last four years. While building endurance, the hundreds of miles of running, biking and swimming deepened my resolve to live the healthy lifestyle for myself and for my family. There was no better way to celebrate the four-year anniversary of my escape from obesity than completing my first Ironman 70.3.
With my toes wiggling in the cool wet sand, I was excited, but not nervous as I prepared to embark on the first 1.2 miles of my journey. Over the last 18 weeks, I'd completed about 95% of the workouts prescribed by coaches Doug Bush and Trish Dugan. With their expertise, I arrived at the start with a strong, healthy body, a realistic pacing strategy and a tested nutrition plan.
Breakfast: 2 cups of coffee, 4 teaspoons of sugar, low fiber granola bar, banana (364 calories).
Pre-swim: 1 Hammer Gel (100 calories)
On the bike: 24 ounces Gatorade, 2 Hammer Gels, half Power Bar (380 calories)
On the run: A sip of water every aid station, 6 Shot Blocks, quarter Power Bar (260 calories).
It was a cool, misty morning. Having completed a practice swim in the reservoir Saturday in my sleeveless wetsuit, I was prepared for the shock of the 62-degree water. There were less than 100 women in my wave, so there was plenty of water to avoid the churning of arms and legs.
I found my rhythm pretty quickly. Glide. Glide. Glide. Determined to maintain an efficient stroke and position for the entire 1.2 miles, I chanted this one word in my mind over and over. I tried to keep a swimmer at 2 o'clock as a beacon to help me stay on course. The strategy worked well and before long, I rounded the second turn and was heading back to shore.
My heart rate was controlled and I was feeling great. So, I started to push the pace. As my breathing became more labored, I "heard" my cyber-friend's voice in my head, "STICK TO THE PLAN!" My focus was restored and I emerged from the water in 45:28, almost 5 minutes faster than expected. (Swim Division Place: 56th out of 86). One down. Two to go.
On my way to T1, I was pleased to see volunteer strippers, who peeled my wetsuit off with one quick "pop." In transition, I decided that I'd need long sleeves with the misty rain and cool temperatures. I methodically prepared for the bike leg as I'd practiced many times over the long hot summer. Helmet. Glasses. Long sleeve shirt ... Ummmmm... Start over. Shirt won't go over helmet. Shirt. Helmet. Glasses. Socks. Shoes. Ready to roll.
Having rehearsed the bike course several times, I knew every hill and turn and had learned how to climb with my double crankset. The first two miles were fast. Then, the festival of hills commenced for nine miles, rising from an elevation of 563 feet to 1754 feet. At the pinnacle, an eerie fog had settled into the valley limiting visibility. Though some riders were a bit tentative, I knew the next two miles of road were perfect to fly. Top speed for this descent was an adrenaline pumping 40.2 mph. But, it wasn't the fastest for the course. That would come at mile 20, where the course plays a mean trick on its riders. After rocketing down the hill at 45.6 mph, I encountered the familiar brick wall at the bottom, a short, but steep climb that always forces me out of the saddle just to keep my speed from dropping below 5 mph.
The bike course passed through the beautiful farmlands of Central New York. Even the cows came dashing across the fields to watch the parade of cyclists.
At the halfway point, I realized that I finished the hardest part of the course faster than any of my training rides thanks to the lack of headwinds. With time banked, I knew all I had to do was stick to the plan and I'd nail the bike without sacrificing the run.
The miles flew by. Before I knew it, I was on the final stretch, watching my average speed increase a tenth at a time, 16.7...16.8... I was ecstatic. My fastest speed previously, even on a calm day, had been 16 mph. 16.9 ...17.0... T2 ahead...17.1! Yeah baby!
I rolled into transition in 3 hours, 16 minutes - 14 minutes ahead of goal. (Bike Division Place: 44th out of 86). Two down. One to go.
On my way to rack my bike, I refueled with hugs from my husband, Art, and dear friend, Caren. My T2 time was just as slow as T1, since I still wanted to make sure that I had everything before heading out for the run. Socks, shoes, visor, shot blocks, Garmin. Ok. Go.
The run course was mostly downhill, so it was easy to make the transition from biking to running. I don't remember much of the first six miles. I found my stride and just kept putting one foot in front of the other. I spotted my chiropractor in the first two miles. I sipped water at every aid station, popped my shot blocks and ran. I was able to stick to the plan for the first half of the run with an average pace of 10:22.
Between mile 7 and 8, the run got more challenging. Though my pace had slowed, my heart rate was racing and I felt dizzy. I did a quick assessment. Fatigue had set it, but the legs were fine. I was still sweating. So, I just dialed things back to get my heart rate under control. The last 5 miles, I took a little more time at the water stations to hydrate, which kept the dizziness at bay.
Although the run course was less than scenic, the volunteers and spectators were wonderful. Folks from the local tri club and stores chalked the main road with words of motivation.
I urged myself forward by thinking about the gift of life that I'd been granted and the many hours of training that brought me to this day. I thought about my training partner and friend, Mike, who at age 60, learned how to swim this year so he too could claim his first 70.3 medal. I found strength reflecting upon all the support that I've received from my family, friends, coaches and training partners.
The last leg of the race took 2 hours and 27 minutes. (Run Division Place: 65th out of 86). Three down.
As the finish line passed under my feet, an irrepressible shout of victory escaped from deep within me. I felt an overwhelming sense of pride and ran into the waiting arms of my husband and hugged Caren. Despite being a little slow in transition and running the last five miles conservatively, I finished my first Ironman 70.3 in 6:43:55, a full minute and five seconds ahead of my goal.
My calves cramped a little bit after I stopped running, but my body held up pretty well considering what I put it through. I slipped into an ice bath that night and slept in compression tights. Monday's post-race massage relieved any residual soreness. Saturday, Mike and I resumed our running to get ready for the Nov. 7th Hamilton Marathon in Ontario.
Cassie
As I stood on the edge of Jamesville Reservoir eager to put my body to the test, I couldn't help but reflect upon these last four years. While building endurance, the hundreds of miles of running, biking and swimming deepened my resolve to live the healthy lifestyle for myself and for my family. There was no better way to celebrate the four-year anniversary of my escape from obesity than completing my first Ironman 70.3.
With my toes wiggling in the cool wet sand, I was excited, but not nervous as I prepared to embark on the first 1.2 miles of my journey. Over the last 18 weeks, I'd completed about 95% of the workouts prescribed by coaches Doug Bush and Trish Dugan. With their expertise, I arrived at the start with a strong, healthy body, a realistic pacing strategy and a tested nutrition plan.
Breakfast: 2 cups of coffee, 4 teaspoons of sugar, low fiber granola bar, banana (364 calories).
Pre-swim: 1 Hammer Gel (100 calories)
On the bike: 24 ounces Gatorade, 2 Hammer Gels, half Power Bar (380 calories)
On the run: A sip of water every aid station, 6 Shot Blocks, quarter Power Bar (260 calories).
It was a cool, misty morning. Having completed a practice swim in the reservoir Saturday in my sleeveless wetsuit, I was prepared for the shock of the 62-degree water. There were less than 100 women in my wave, so there was plenty of water to avoid the churning of arms and legs.
I found my rhythm pretty quickly. Glide. Glide. Glide. Determined to maintain an efficient stroke and position for the entire 1.2 miles, I chanted this one word in my mind over and over. I tried to keep a swimmer at 2 o'clock as a beacon to help me stay on course. The strategy worked well and before long, I rounded the second turn and was heading back to shore.
My heart rate was controlled and I was feeling great. So, I started to push the pace. As my breathing became more labored, I "heard" my cyber-friend's voice in my head, "STICK TO THE PLAN!" My focus was restored and I emerged from the water in 45:28, almost 5 minutes faster than expected. (Swim Division Place: 56th out of 86). One down. Two to go.
On my way to T1, I was pleased to see volunteer strippers, who peeled my wetsuit off with one quick "pop." In transition, I decided that I'd need long sleeves with the misty rain and cool temperatures. I methodically prepared for the bike leg as I'd practiced many times over the long hot summer. Helmet. Glasses. Long sleeve shirt ... Ummmmm... Start over. Shirt won't go over helmet. Shirt. Helmet. Glasses. Socks. Shoes. Ready to roll.
Having rehearsed the bike course several times, I knew every hill and turn and had learned how to climb with my double crankset. The first two miles were fast. Then, the festival of hills commenced for nine miles, rising from an elevation of 563 feet to 1754 feet. At the pinnacle, an eerie fog had settled into the valley limiting visibility. Though some riders were a bit tentative, I knew the next two miles of road were perfect to fly. Top speed for this descent was an adrenaline pumping 40.2 mph. But, it wasn't the fastest for the course. That would come at mile 20, where the course plays a mean trick on its riders. After rocketing down the hill at 45.6 mph, I encountered the familiar brick wall at the bottom, a short, but steep climb that always forces me out of the saddle just to keep my speed from dropping below 5 mph.
The bike course passed through the beautiful farmlands of Central New York. Even the cows came dashing across the fields to watch the parade of cyclists.
At the halfway point, I realized that I finished the hardest part of the course faster than any of my training rides thanks to the lack of headwinds. With time banked, I knew all I had to do was stick to the plan and I'd nail the bike without sacrificing the run.
The miles flew by. Before I knew it, I was on the final stretch, watching my average speed increase a tenth at a time, 16.7...16.8... I was ecstatic. My fastest speed previously, even on a calm day, had been 16 mph. 16.9 ...17.0... T2 ahead...17.1! Yeah baby!
I rolled into transition in 3 hours, 16 minutes - 14 minutes ahead of goal. (Bike Division Place: 44th out of 86). Two down. One to go.
On my way to rack my bike, I refueled with hugs from my husband, Art, and dear friend, Caren. My T2 time was just as slow as T1, since I still wanted to make sure that I had everything before heading out for the run. Socks, shoes, visor, shot blocks, Garmin. Ok. Go.
The run course was mostly downhill, so it was easy to make the transition from biking to running. I don't remember much of the first six miles. I found my stride and just kept putting one foot in front of the other. I spotted my chiropractor in the first two miles. I sipped water at every aid station, popped my shot blocks and ran. I was able to stick to the plan for the first half of the run with an average pace of 10:22.
Between mile 7 and 8, the run got more challenging. Though my pace had slowed, my heart rate was racing and I felt dizzy. I did a quick assessment. Fatigue had set it, but the legs were fine. I was still sweating. So, I just dialed things back to get my heart rate under control. The last 5 miles, I took a little more time at the water stations to hydrate, which kept the dizziness at bay.
Although the run course was less than scenic, the volunteers and spectators were wonderful. Folks from the local tri club and stores chalked the main road with words of motivation.
I urged myself forward by thinking about the gift of life that I'd been granted and the many hours of training that brought me to this day. I thought about my training partner and friend, Mike, who at age 60, learned how to swim this year so he too could claim his first 70.3 medal. I found strength reflecting upon all the support that I've received from my family, friends, coaches and training partners.
The last leg of the race took 2 hours and 27 minutes. (Run Division Place: 65th out of 86). Three down.
As the finish line passed under my feet, an irrepressible shout of victory escaped from deep within me. I felt an overwhelming sense of pride and ran into the waiting arms of my husband and hugged Caren. Despite being a little slow in transition and running the last five miles conservatively, I finished my first Ironman 70.3 in 6:43:55, a full minute and five seconds ahead of my goal.
My calves cramped a little bit after I stopped running, but my body held up pretty well considering what I put it through. I slipped into an ice bath that night and slept in compression tights. Monday's post-race massage relieved any residual soreness. Saturday, Mike and I resumed our running to get ready for the Nov. 7th Hamilton Marathon in Ontario.
Cassie
"Hard things take time to do. Impossible things take a little longer."
Congratulations Cassie, it sounds like you had an amazing race! Your race report brought tears to my eyes...you're one of the "veterans" I look to for inspiration and motivation!! Best of luck on your marathon in November!!
Katie
Katie
"Running has the power to change your life. It will make you fitter, healthier, even happier." ~Selene Yeager, "Let's Get Started," May 2010 issue of Runner's World
Thanks Katie. I love this forum because we learn so much from each other. I credit trailblazers like Chad, Scott, Dan and Marie for helping me have such a succesful race.
Cassie
Cassie
"Hard things take time to do. Impossible things take a little longer."
Andrew, I'll see you in Syracuse in 2011! If you get a chance, you'll have to come up one weekend in August or early September, so we can ride the course.
Cassie
Cassie
"Hard things take time to do. Impossible things take a little longer."
I think my arm could be twisted . . .that means volunteering in Placid in 2011 to secure a spot.
Cassie
Cassie
"Hard things take time to do. Impossible things take a little longer."
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