Race report: Rochester Autumn Classic Duathlon

A rainy morning. 

I am now a du-athlete. And once I get that pesky swimming thing figured out, this half-iron is in the bag!

On Sept. 30 I finished the Rochester Autumn Classic Duathlon in 2:15:02 (had I not forgotten to take my helmet off at one transition I could have been under 2:15... gah!!! Yes, I know my goal was 2:30.) Many apologies to the few who care about taking forever to get this report up, as mentioned in my previous post, life has been busy busy busy!

The du was a 2 mile run/10 mile bike/2 mile run/10 mile bike/2 mile run.

Here's the breakdown:

• 2 m run - 19:17
• Transition - 40 seconds
• 10 m bike - 37:35
• T - 60 seconds
• 2 m run - 18:43
• T - 41 seconds
• 10 m bike - 38:38
• T - 28 seconds
• 2 m run - 17:58 (negative splits wee!!) 

I wake up to the clank clank clank of rain pounding against my air conditioner. Always encouraging on race morning :-/ I got there, caught up with a friend, and it's still pouring. But as time to line up nears the rain is down to a light drizzle. 

I size up the competition. Lots of hardcore looking people there. I was one of the few on a hybrid. For the Formula 1, the longer race that I did, it was mostly men. They yell go and everyone takes off. For the first tenth of a mile or so I'm at the back of the pack running an 8:00 mile. Crap! I don't want to finish last. Panic sets in. I ease up to about a 10 minute pace and since they started the sprint distance people five minutes later it was hard to tell where I ranked. I run most of the two miles with another guy who kept saying "yea, I run a 10 minute mile I know I'm slow". We're running just under a 10:00 pace and all I kept thinking was "slow down slow down slow down or you'll never make it." But the pace felt comfortable. 

We get into transition, I go through seamlessly, and the guy I was running yells "hey, Ohio!" as he whizzes by me on the bike. I'm riding in a steady line of people so my fear of being in last place subsides. I get over the hills without a problem, and go back to transition. This is where I almost ran off with my helmet, thank you awesome guy working the transition area who stopped me! I take a Honey Stinger, kick it up and...

Owww.

This does not feel good. I knew what to expect from practice but I didn't account for the hills. I cannot feel my legs. My quads are burning. It was a weird sensation only comparable to the last six miles of a marathon. I have no sense of how fast I'm going. I feel like I'm barely shuffling along, but when I look at my watch I'm still running sub-10s. I get through the first mile, and my legs ease up and then the second mile is quite pleasant. 

And then, just as I'm back to the running groove, it's time for the bike. In the 18:43 I spent running some sinister jacka$$ went out and doubled the size of the hills. This bike was rough. I was shifting on hills that I hadn't shifted on the first time.

Further, all the sprint distance people were done, and I'm all by myself. Fear of last place sets in again, until I pass someone fixing a flat. Thanks to the wonderful Fleet Feet crew I didn't get lost since I could no longer use my usual follow-the-person-in-front-of-me strategy. 

The whole 10 miles are a struggle. I just want to be done. I run in my bike, barely stop and kick it out for the run.

Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. 

It's even worse than the second run. I feel like I can barely control my legs and my knees are knocking together, something I have never felt before. The only thing that's keeping me moving is me wanting to be done, "you haven't walked yet don't do it now" I keep telling myself. Somehow, some way, I find the energy to make it through the two miles and kick in in. Matt the trainer is there cheering, yay! 

Age group award! 

I catch up with David, who finished 15 minutes ahead of me and is up on the results. He tells me that he didn't see any women my age ahead of me... hmmm.... There weren't a lot of women, period. I stay for the awards ceremony.

They call my age group and go immediately to second place, which means there was only one other woman. They call a name, and it's the girl in pigtails I passed during the final run. Then they call first place for my age group and it's me! I never win anything... and first out of two is still first :)

It was all in all a great race, I'll definitely look for the spring classic!