Before I dig into my race recap, let me first profess my love for Wildflower. Last year was eye opening, and this year was just as much fun. Camping with about 4,000 fellow triathletes/nuts in one of California’s most beautiful settings…what could be better? What a great excuse to skip out of 1.5 days of work and blow a bunch of money at REI.
It was great to hang out with Marty Taylor (who came out of his hole in the the mid-west), meet his girlfriend Linda, and goof around with Denner (implants), Patrick, Bryan, Greg (the tree hugger), Damian, Carl (I’m invisible to chicks when standing next to him), Sandra, Paul, Carrie and everybody else at our TNT alumni campsite (of which I am an impostor).
I skipped out of work early Thursday to drive up and meet Marty at the Wal-Mart in Paso Robles. After stocking up on food (we bought beer but forgot dinner for two of our three nights), we headed towards Lake San Antonio to set up camp. We showed up just in time to unload the vehicles before it got dark. The campsite grew as a steady stream of various acquaintances streamed in.
Friday morning was devoted to race prep, which was smart because Friday afternoon brought rain. A bunch of us were hoping it would hold out until race morning, hoping to feed off of everybody elses collective discomfort. It didn’t, and race day ended up being pretty ideal.
My goals for the weekend were to 1) Have fun and relax (mission accomplished) and 2) race smart enough to run hard. I have vivid memories of the horrors of miles four through six on the run left over from last year. This year I had dreams of effortlessly bounding up the ranks as everybody else succumbed to the grade and the trails. This was to be a “B” race for me (Oceanside was my early season priority, and my next major focus will be Ironman Louisville), so placing well wasn’t as important to me as the self confidence boost that would come from tearing up the run course.
The swim was realitively uneventful. I finished in just over 28 minutes (slower than last year, a bit concerning), continued my trend of slow and awkward T1s and started what was supposed to be a calm bike leg. I did a pretty good job avoiding some early idiocy and settled into what I thought was a good tempo which would leave plenty of gas in the tank for the run. Nasty grade would have its way with me though, and even when trying to hold back the last 15 miles or so of the course took a rough toll on my legs.
I finished the bike and moved quickly through T2. I could tell I was in trouble as my “cruise” pace wasn’t so easy to maintain over the first four miles. Sure enough, when the trail turned up and away from the lake things went south for me. I ended up walking the same sections as last year and my moral plummeted. As I emerged beaten into the meadows above, I was not a happy camper and plotted along the flats at about 7:30 minute miles.
The quiet thuds of a big approaching group snapped me out of my funk. I looked back to see a bunch of female pros I recognized from the bike leg, approaching in a pack. “Why not?” I thought as I tried to latch onto my overtakers. Amazingly, after following for a few minutes I ended up in front, shoulder to shoulder with a shorter and seemingly floating woman. We built off each other and soon enough we had dropped the group behind. I had my rabbit and I didn’t want to let her go.
It is pretty common for me to end up mixing it up with the lead females, especially since I’m usually in one of the first age group waves to start the race. Their race always seems more important than mine, and I get uneasy when I think I might be in the way. So as we made our way along the course I was being very mindful of the line I was following and the line she was following. I tried to stay unobtrusive through aid stations and shared the trail when we were side by side.
And the 7:30 pace dropped to 6:30. We were hauling ass.
We exchanged names; I didn’t recognize hers. “Gina”. In my year and a half in this sport I’ve become familiar with the identities of some pros. Since I didn’t know who my guide to the left was, I figured she was a mid-level pro. Turns out she was also a 40 year old mother of two! A fact made even more impressive as the miles wore on and she drove the pace harder and harder. When the broken and labored conversation turned to past races she surprised me again. She had finished 4th at Kona! In under 9:30! CRAZINESS!!!
Gina was awesome. She was adamant about how thankful she was to have somebody to run with, even though I felt like I was just hanging on. I guess some women pros have their own regular age group men to work with and she was happy to stumble into me.
Somewhere around mile 11 the course descends and then runners backtrack up the hill. At the bottom we caught Rachel Challis (another mother of two) and Gina surged. I guess she didn’t want Rachel to latch on. I couldn’t match Gina’s effort and Rachel and I were left on our own.
Although Gina dropped me like a bad habbit, I fought through the last mile or so and salvaged a pretty decent run. Gina greeted me in the finishing chute and I got a big ‘ol hug. She had fought her way into 7th place and got to take home a bit of cash.
I finished in 4:49:49. Seven minutes and four seconds faster than last year. Improvment isn’t as easy or rapid as it used to be. I’m not to worried though, since I was more “rested” than “tapered” for this race. The big positive from race day was running alongside an American Ironman Champion, who, more importantly, turned out to also be a very kind and good human being.
Ryan Denner had an awsome race. Like breakthrough awsome. He finished a scant minute and change behind me. When we passed on the out and back on the hill, he looked VERY strong. I’m sure if we would have started together, I would have been in his sites and he may have run me down. If his calves weren’t so damn huge he may have had the power to weight ratio to overtake me in the hills. I can only hope that this is the beggining of a very, very competitive relationship (in the most healthy of ways).
I stumbled around for the rest of Saturday (consuming several “Wildflower Burritos”) and splurged on a few beers that night. Sunday I watched the Olympic Distance Race with the friends who were left before heading home.
A Solid Weekend.
