Nabbing a BQ, foray into marathon racing

 Ironman Florida 2020

Racing in a Pandemic

It was a weird race from the beginning… the anxiety leading up to it that it may be cancelled very last minute, or that work wouldn’t allow us to travel… I mean after all, no other Ironman (full distance) races had gone off in 2020 (and would not), and only one other 70.3 had occurred (Arizona), so we were not feeling optimistic. But as the days dwindled down and it was finally the day to drive down, Kit and I were cautiously optimistic. Luckily, Florida was a place where covid cases were actually very low, and with us driving and staying in a complete house to ourselves, we felt as safe as anything. The drive down wasn’t bad, and it was so nice to be in our familiar area of 30-A, Rosemary and a place connected to so many memories for us. We enjoyed a few lazy days resting at the beach and going through the motions of check in before it was finally race day.

Pre Race 

 

The race started at 11am, a super weird experience and one I’ve never dealt with in an Ironman event. Kit’s race (the full Ironnman) started at 6am— which meant with our one car I had to drop him off at a very early 4:30 am in transition. Transition at that hour was a very dark but still surprisingly busy experience. I tried to drop him off as quickly as possible and then made my way back to the house to chill out as long as possible. 

As soon as I got back to the house I noticed it was only a few minutes before sunrise. I hopped on a cruiser bike and made the 0.2 mile trek to the beach for a lovely sunrise before heading back to the house for rest. It was well worth it. The next few hours were filled with anxious filled pacing in the house, attempting to rest, repacking my stuff several times. I finally ate breakfast around 8am, 3hrs before race start. I wasn’t hungry but knew I needed to get carbs in me for the big day. I left with plenty of time to drive back to the start at Pier Park. Our house was about 20 minutes away, but I was worried with the full Ironman already onto the bike course, there may be some road closures which would make my commute longer. I was pleasantly surprised at the ease of getting there, and I was very early. I sat anxiously in the car until transition opened at 9. Transition in the time of covid is a different experience, much like athlete check-in (which was scheduled). In good things, we had much more room at our racks and everyone was very spread out. I also had a very good spot next to bike out being an All-World-Athlete. As expected, we were required to wear masks anytime we were not racing, including in transition. Temperature checks and questionnaires ensued prior to entering transition, and because of the screening, once you entered transition you could not leave. It may have been prudent for me to realize the not leaving part before I excitedly entered transition right at 9am on the dot, because I had way too much time to sit and do nothing. I checked my bike quickly and pumped up the tires and arranged my things before sitting down for what seemed like forever until we headed down to the swim start.  

Swim

The swim was a rolling start, with the fastest swimmers (self-seeded) entering the water first and the slowest last. The race organizers had set up a large corral like maze for us to socially distance while waiting to enter the water. I seeded myself with the 35 minute group, which was optimistically fast, but I had been swimming well and felt confident in a wetsuit ocean swim. However, I felt slightly less confident as I looked at the once-calm-now-very-choppy ocean. It seemed like forever that they kept us on the boiling hot beach in our wetsuits, but finally as 11am rolled around they started letting the first swimmers in the water. Three people at a time with 10 seconds in between, and it was only a minute or two before I was in the water and going. Now I was glad to have practiced getting beyond the breakers in my wetsuit the day before, because it did feel much easier on race day to get out to deeper water. I found a rhythm and my own water, but felt like the water never seemed to calm down. Constant waves and multiple swallows of salt water left me feeling nauseous within the first ten minutes of the swim. I kept the effort comfortable, but it felt like forever to get out to the pier before the first turn. Some ironman swims I’ve done just seem to go by and end quickly, this was not one of those. While I don’t like to look at my watch much during the swim as I like to go on comfortable effort, I knew I was not going to finish this swim in 35 minutes. The waves continued, the nausea continued and I even saw some jellyfish (also touched one) and schools of fish. Luckily there was not a lot of human contact and sighting was extremely easy despite the choppy water. I came out of the water at around 40 minutes- definitely slower than anticipated, but hearing grumblings from other racers and later seeing the results, everyone had a slow time… likely in part due to  conditions and likely in part due to it being slightly long. Oh well. Onto starting the long sand and pavement run up to transition and onto the bike…

Bike

So the run into transition was easily a half mile. A hot and painful half mile in a wetsuit and with barefeet. After making it into transition and getting my wetsuit off solo (no strippers due to covid) I was able to make quick work of putting on my bike shoes, sunglasses and helmet. My plan going into the bike was simple- conserve effort into the wind and keep power consistent and never above 160-170ish watts. I knew a significant part of this course would have headwind, but there should be some tail to enjoy as well, and it would be constant pedaling with minimal elevation change. I was right on all accounts. The first 20ish miles out were into a headwind. I had suspected this, and was prepared for this so I just kept my power right on target and didn’t care so much about speed. I kept focusing on nailing my nutrition of 3 bloks or 1 waffle an hour (or some equivalent), and was  actually able to do this well on the bike. 

Turning around at the 25ish mile mark there was finally an aid station. We were prepared in all the athlete briefings to be self-sufficient as the minimal volunteers and lack of contact with covid made frequent aid stations impossible. I grabbed water and was thankful that the turnaround also brought with it a tailwind. The back half of this bike was easier for that reason, as I often find it mentally difficult to get through big headwind sections… to see slower splits despite effort, the extra tax on the muscles due to bracing from the wind… it was nice to have a break from this. By about mile 40 on the bike I was ready to be done as the flat ground and constant pedaling was fatiguing my legs. The pavement in sections was less than ideal and the roads open to traffic made some sections downright dangerous. The end was in sight though and was pleased with my bike split of 2:49.

Run

Transition 2 was uneventful other than a quick bathroom visit, but otherwise quickly I was out  to the run. My legs were fatigued, and it was hot now going on 3pm in the afternoon, but I felt ok. I was shocked at how quickly the first couple miles went… both 7:30ish miles. I was excited about the run leg as 2020 has been a very run heavy year, and I knew this was a spot I potentially had the ability to cut some time off my previous 70.3 splits and get that PR. While the aid stations were less in the run, they still occurred about every 2 miles. Definitely they were needed, as it was hot, humid and I was relying on the liquid nutrition for this run. The run featured a 2-lap 6.5 mile loop, flat as a pancake along Front Beach Rd in Panama City Beach. I wasn’t sure what to expect given we were racing in a pandemic, but I was pleasantly surprised to see many spectators along the run course to boost spirits. 

I did slow my pace a bit, but was still running fairly strong and consistent splits. I allowed myself to walk into the aid stations to make sure I got adequate hydration and fuel, but otherwise it was a constant run. I was running strong and felt good, passing people left and right. I obviously did start to fatigue in the second loop, but held it together even despite the calf cramps which starting really firing up around mile 10. My mindset changed as just staying in a mile at a time at this point, I’m not sure I would have survived if I told myself I had to run a whole 3 more miles. Finally as dusk started to creep in the finishing chute was in sight. It was a shockingly long way into the finisher chute, I knew my time was close to a PR but I wasn’t sure exactly where I was sitting. Finally crossed the line— official time 5:37- 70.3 PR.

Post-Race

After claiming all my stuff and finding Kit who had a stellar Ironman right at 11 hrs (well 11:00:32), we spent the rest of the evening at the house recovering. While initially being a bit hard on myself that I didn’t have a quicker swim or totally kill the run, I really later felt proud of myself because I knew I left it all out there. I nailed my race nutrition which has been a struggle for me, I nabbed a PR, and I also was 5th age group 30-34 and 10th overall female… which in an Ironman event is pretty crazy and my best overall finish. I was hoping for a World Champs spot for 70.3 Worlds in St George, but as of this writing I do not think I made the cut (rolldown was electronic and not in person due to covid). But there’s always another race and a new PR to achieve. I’m just thankful to be able to get some racing in this year!