Iron Girl Columbia Women's Triathlon - TriathlonSprint

Wave by wave, we filed onto a short dock and slid into Centennial Lake. Water quality was a bit icky, but nowhere near as bad as Culpeper. It was warm, too, so wetsuits were not allowed, nor necessary. The course was a rectangle around a mid-lake island and started toward the sun, making me appreciate my reflective goggles.

After situating ourselves and treading water for a few minutes, we were off. I had some confidence after Culpeper, so I placed myself in the middle of the group. So THIS is what they mean by "washing machine"! Even though I was in a group swimming at about the same pace, there was a lot of contact. Knowing that it was unintentional, it didn't freak me out. The water was too murky to find a pair of feet to draft off, so I gauged navigation in part by watching the swimmer to my right (buoys were on the left and I'm not a strong left-breather - yet).

I was fortunate to find my rhythm and settled into an easy freestyle, saving gas for the bike challenge to come. Like Culpeper, this was a swim that I really enjoyed and was sad to see end. But there I was at the shoreline, standing up as soon as my hand touched bottom and heading for transition. Thanks for the cheers, Mike! You boosted me toward my gator-bike.

T1 was a bit too leisurely (5:11), especially without a wetsuit to shuck, but I wanted to be methodical and ensure that I ate something before attacking those infamous hills.

To my surprise, the course seemed easier than it did the previous weekend. Not "easy", mind you, because it's anything but, but the psychological benefit of having experience was extremely valuable.

I ground that granny gear up the long uphills and pushed it down the
accompanying downhills. At one point, several cyclists passed me while I was toiling up an endless incline. I greeted their "on your left" with a squeeze or two on the gator squeaky toy. That got chuckles every time. I still had to use mind games stay focused, though. I looked at spot about three feet ahead of my front wheel and counted pedal strokes up to 100, then down again. But it worked - I managed to stay upright and never walked the bike, as many cyclists were doing.

The big payoff came on the downhills. In two sections, I actually exceeded the posted speed limit and (!) came up fast behind the women who had previously passed me. At one point, when a hearty "on your left" didn't work, I yelled "FAT CHICK PASSING!!!" to clear a lane. When that didn't work, I added, "Don't make me run you over!!!" That worked. I gave the gator a toot-toot squeeze for goodwill as I passed.

Race Result
Racer: Jamie Roberson
Race: Iron Girl Columbia
Date: Sunday, August 27, 2006
Location: Ellicott City, MD
Race Type: Triathlon - Sprint
Age Group: Female 40 - 44
Time: 3:28:49
Overall Place: 1254 / 1265
Age Group Place: 11 / 12
Comment: Fun, Tough Race


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Race Report:


Why IronGirl?

In 2004, I signed up for the 2005 Columbia Triathlon, in total ignorance of its punishing nature, then withdrew in favor of a lake swim clinic when I realized how ill-prepared I was. So when the inaugural IronGirl race was announced on a scaled-down version of the famed Columbia course, I jumped at the challenge. At a field of 1600, it was also the largest triathlon in which I had competed.

But why an all-women's race? It was targeted at newcomers, and according to Vigo (Robert Vigorito, the legendary Columbia Triathlon Association race director) 60% of the competitors were first-time triathletes. Though I've never felt it myself, apparently a lot of women feel more comfortable doing first-time events in the company of women. Me, I'm just happy to be out there. I really enjoy being around my RAT-peeps of both genders. But it was a huge new event on a part of the Columbia course, so I was there.

Pre-Race

Amy and I made plans to preview the course the Sunday before the race. Good thing. She and her husband had driven the course and marked a map to show the various ups and downs. But when she and I drove it, I felt nauseous. I knew that there would be spots where I was going to have to walk the bike. The sustained uphills were just too much. When I said so much, Amy told me to "just puke and get it over with".

Boy, was I glad that we previewed the bike course. Though the hills were challenging, I managed to grind out enough forward motion on my overworked granny gear to make it up and over those hills, all without walking, falling over, or - heaven forbid - puking. I was wheezing hard at the top of a couple of them, and pulling out every sort of mind game out of the bag to keep me focused on moving forward. It worked! As I cruised back to the minivan, where Amy was relaxing after finishing well before me, I was pumped. I wanted to do the race NOW!

The Day Before the Race

Packet pickup the following Saturday meant another trip up to Columbia. Things went smoothly enough. There was lots of neat swag, including a free Spinervals DVD for the asking. I wasn't too wild about the t-shirt, though - it was a nice wicking fabric, but cut too skimpy at the sleeves and hem for my taste. I like a baggier, more modest fit, but that’s just me.

Vigo gave a detailed, motivating pre-race talk, but as informative as it was, I couldn't sit still. I told Melissa that I didn't want to be around a bunch of nervous triathletes, but let's be honest – the most jittery one was me. So I went by a table where Olympic medalist Susan Williams was chatting with folks and signing autographs. She had spent some time growing up in Panama City, FL, my home town, so we compared notes. Turns out she was starting her swim career with the Bay County YMCA as a second-grader when I was in high school - in fact they trained in my high school's pool. Small world - while I was leading the Mosley High School marching band, a future Olympian was only a few feet away. What a nice person she is, too. Approachable, down to earth, full of genuine encouragement – Susan Williams rocks.

I was ready to race.

Race Day

What is the definition of a friend? Someone who will haul her butt out of bed at 4 a.m. on a perfectly good Sunday morning to ride with you to a triathlon in which she is not competing, just to take photos and lend moral support. That would be one Tara Lyn, who cheerfully arrived at a time when non-triathletes might just be getting home. Along with Heather, Farley, and Abby, we packed into the tri-mobile and swung through McDonald's for a biscuit and Diet Coke for sustenance.

Having racked my bike the day before, and not needing a wetsuit, setting up my transition area was a breeze. I kept my stv-endorsed "less is more" theme, with one exception: I bought a green plastic alligator squeaky toy the day before and mounted it between my aero bars. Not the most aerodynamic and certainly not the most dignified, but it reminded me to have fun. That, and now you can't miss my bike. It apparently guided Emma and Amy there earlier, as I was tickled to find a note of encouragement in my Bento Box. I kept the note and will carry it with me at Reston.

The gator attracted the attention of my rack neighbor, too. She explained that her husband was a graduate of the University of Florida, "one of those crazy ones." I smiled in agreement, being "a crazy one" myself, and wished her a "Good Luck" and Go Gators!" as I made my way to the start.

Tara Lyn and I found Melissa, who was looking like a little kid on Christmas morning, all full of excitement and ready to play with her new toys. I was also happy to meet Mike and Karen Tine after seeing their names so often in RAT-pages.

Swim (29:46)

Wave by wave, we filed onto a short dock and slid into Centennial Lake. Water quality was a bit icky, but nowhere near as bad as Culpeper. It was warm, too, so wetsuits were not allowed, nor necessary. The course was a rectangle around a mid-lake island and started toward the sun, making me appreciate my reflective goggles.

After situating ourselves and treading water for a few minutes, we were off. I had some confidence after Culpeper, so I placed myself in the middle of the group. So THIS is what they mean by "washing machine"! Even though I was in a group swimming at about the same pace, there was a lot of contact. Knowing that it was unintentional, it didn't freak me out. The water was too murky to find a pair of feet to draft off, so I gauged navigation in part by watching the swimmer to my right (buoys were on the left and I'm not a strong left-breather - yet).

I was fortunate to find my rhythm and settled into an easy freestyle, saving gas for the bike challenge to come. Like Culpeper, this was a swim that I really enjoyed and was sad to see end. But there I was at the shoreline, standing up as soon as my hand touched bottom and heading for transition. Thanks for the cheers, Mike! You boosted me toward my gator-bike.

Bike (1:39:29, avg speed 10.6)

T1 was a bit too leisurely (5:11), especially without a wetsuit to shuck, but I wanted to be methodical and ensure that I ate something before attacking those infamous hills.

To my surprise, the course seemed easier than it did the previous weekend. Not "easy", mind you, because it's anything but, but the psychological benefit of having experience was extremely valuable.

I ground that granny gear up the long uphills and pushed it down the
accompanying downhills. At one point, several cyclists passed me while I was toiling up an endless incline. I greeted their "on your left" with a squeeze or two on the gator squeaky toy. That got chuckles every time. I still had to use mind games stay focused, though. I looked at spot about three feet ahead of my front wheel and counted pedal strokes up to 100, then down again. But it worked - I managed to stay upright and never walked the bike, as many cyclists were doing.

The big payoff came on the downhills. In two sections, I actually exceeded the posted speed limit and (!) came up fast behind the women who had previously passed me. At one point, when a hearty "on your left" didn't work, I yelled "FAT CHICK PASSING!!!" to clear a lane. When that didn't work, I added, "Don't make me run you over!!!" That worked. I gave the gator a toot-toot squeeze for goodwill as I passed.

Run (1:09:26, 21:03/mile)

T2 was again leisurely (4:59), as I caught my breath, changed shoes, and sucked down an eGel. Then I was off, winding my way through the transition area to avoid finishers who were packing their gear to leave. That part of being slow really sucks - the party's started, and you still have work to do.

So I just focused on the task at hand. Running off the bike has always been my weakness. In fact, I don't think I've ever done a race in which I haven’t walked a significant part of the run course. Mostly that had to do with pain, which my recent fasciotomy was intended to relieve.

Today wasn't going to be much different, as I intended to baby my legs, being just 5 weeks post-surgery, with my A race - Reston - only 2 weeks after that. I tried a mix of slow jogging and walking, which seemed to work well enough. That is, until a relay runner with a "70" marked on her calf zoomed past. I called out to her, "Way to go! Keep it up!" to which she replied "I'm not only faster than you, I'm a lot older, too!"

I had been dissed by a smack-talkin' granny. Not only that, but she passed me again at two others points, having gotten lost on the run course.

So that was a little shocking, but my spirits were buoyed again when I saw a sign for a "Village People Aid Station". Sure enough, the volunteers were dressed as the Village People and dancing to "YMCA". As I reached for a drink from the Leather Man (who looked awfully comfortable in his dog collar and leather cap), he remarked, "We put the 'Gay' in 'Gatorade'!" I literally spewed my drink, I laughed so hard. So I got another "Gaytorade" and kept moving.

The aid station at the top of the next hill was similarly festive. A teenage boy in a hula skirt offered drinks if I would run, and so I did.

Finally the end drew near. As I crossed the dam and saw Heather standing patiently with Farley and Abby, I picked up the pace and headed for home. At the finish line, I could barely contain tears as I enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment at finishing my toughest race ever. Melissa and Tara Lyn guided me up the hill toward the popsicles (proof that there is a God and that He loves me), and as soon as we were done, it was over.

Aftermath

This report is long enough arreddy, but this event was profound for me, one who didn’t really place overly-much value on a women-only event. I thought that it would be fun, and it was. I thought that I’d enjoy being around my friends, and I did. I also met new tri-folk, including Melissa Merson, with whom I’d shared email about shared challenges.

There was so much to be thankful for. From start to finish, this was an incredibly well-organized and well-run event. I really appreciated that Vigo didn't "dumb it down" for "the girls". Oh no. This was a
*real triathlon*.

Best of all, Coach Debi expertly prepared me for the challenge. With everything that I’ve faced this year, with every vicissitude, Coach Debi adjusted my training schedule and had me ready to go - mentally and physically.