After my race (and subsequent visit to the med tent) in Tizsaujvaros, I was faced with two options: change my ticket to go home early and scrap the World Cup in Austria or stick with my plan and race. Once I found out that it would be vastly more expensive to go home than to spend a week in Kitzbuhel, Austria, I decided to stay and hope that I would feel dramatically better in a week’s time. Even if I had to pull out mid-race, I would be able to spend a week in a beautiful village in the Alps and gain some more World Cup experience. After surprising myself and finishing 11th in the race, I’m pretty happy that I stuck with the plan.
About an hour’s drive from Salzburg, Kitzbuhel is a scenic village of 8,000 residents nestled in the Tyrolean Alps. I was able to do a bit of sight-seeing in the lead-up to the race, taking a tram to the top of the Horn with Brian and Jun, the US coaches for the race. The view was incredible; a 360 degree view of 3000 meter peaks and green pastures complete with bell-wearing cows and wildflowers. Snipppets of songs from “The Sound of Music” had the annoying tendency to pop up spontaneously in my mind. The town of Kitzbuhel, with cobblestoned streets and well-tended, brightly colored buildings, was equally beautiful. Well-heeled tourists from Russia and Western Europe visit the town year-round, skiing, hiking and shopping. For athletes from countries with weak currency (oh, the poor dollar…), this made eating out difficult. Luckily housing was affordable, as the tremendous race organizers sent me to the Pension Erlenhaub, where the sweet proprietor took care of me. Unfortunately, her collection of taxidermied animals was not as charming, baring their teeth at me as I climbed the stairs.
Leading up the race, I was nervous about my ability to race well, as I felt exhausted and sluggish in training. The last time that I had raced soon after heat stroke, I had a terrible race, managing little more than a jog on the run portion of the race. With a start list packed with athletes using the race as a last tune-up before Beijing and taking into account how I was feeling, I took a more conservative approach to the race. Knowing that the field would most likely come into T2 together, my race strategy was simple: sit in on the swim and bike and use whatever I had on the bike.
For the race, the swim took place in the Schwartzsee (Black Lake), one of the most scenic venues that I’ve ever seen for a race. I tucked behind the Swiss Magali Di Marco Messmer and let her do the work of leading the swim (much to her dismay, as she told me after, as she counted on doing the same to me!). On the bike, it was cold and rainy (a far cry from the previous week’s race) and the front pack of 19 negotiated the course conservatively. Luckily, we entered the with a 2:30 advantage over the chase group, letting me feel a bit more comfortable about my ability to finish in the top-20. I started off strong, moving my way through the pack up after a poor transition, and held a comfortable pace. About halfway through the run, Andrea Whitcomb and Debbie Tanner passed me and I sat on their shoulders for the next 4+k. While they outran me in the end, I finished 11th, exceeding my low expectations going into the race. Throughout the run, I kept on waiting to feel bad and was surprised to find that I managed to pull off a good sub-36 minute 10k and feel comfortable doing so. It always feels good to exceed one’s expectations.
After too much bread and chocolate wafers and too little training recently, I am very excited to resume training. As my next race is in September, I should be able to get in a great block of training. The last big block that I had was in April, so I’m definitely keen to put my head down and train. I’ll keep you posted!
Unrelated tidbit: The slugs are massive is Austria, as thick as a big man’s thumb and as long as his thumb. Like slugs here, they also eat their own dead. Gross.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
Heatin' it up in Hungary
What do you get when you combine a small Hungarian town, some of the best triathletes in the world, a lap-counting lady in a dinosaur costume and beer? Surprisingly, you get one of the best triathlon festivals that I have experienced. After spending a few days in Tiszaujvaros, Hungary, I can say that, while the town might have something to be desired in the way of architecture (a decidedly stark eastern bloc motif) and restaurant offerings (I missed my veggies); they certainly know how to take one sporting event and turn it into a week-ling extravaganza. From dancing competitions, a junior triathlon, a triathlon-like event which involved beer kegs and paddles, live music, fireworks, free-flowing beer and strudel and jazzercise, the people in Tizzy know how to take one mere triathlon World cup and turn the event into an extravaganza.
At the heart of the days of festivities, however, is the World Cup, the only event in which I participated. I placed 4th, my best finish to date at a World Cup, but not without some serious suffering. Anyone who follows my racing will have noticed that I have the tendency to race better when the temperature is below 80 degrees. I blame my parent's short-sighted decision to raise us in Upstate NY where I couldn't develop teflon-like heat resistance. When I was informed that the temperature would reach (98 F) 37C on the day of the race, I was very apprehensive but hopeful that I might have my first great warm-weather. Maybe, just maybe!
From the start of the race, I was off the front, gaining time in the swim and working solo until 10k or so into the bike, caught by a pack of four. During and before the race, I did everything I knew to do to combat the heat: starting the race well-hydrated, salting my food, taking liquids throughout the bike and dumping water on me. In my pack were three women I knew to be a real threat on the run: Felicity Abrams (Aussie currently ranked #1 in the world), Mariana Ohata (Brazilian known to race better as the mercury rises) and Andrea Whitcomb (veteran racer who represented the UK on the track in the Sydney Olympics). The first two kilometers of the run I felt good and took the pace out hard, leading the run of a world cup for the first time, until Felicity and Andrea passed me (fun while it lasted, though!). With each successive kilometer, however, my pace decreased and I felt increasingly worse. By the time I hit the last lap with 2.5 k remaining, I knew that there was a serious risk that I would be incapable of finishing, as I am unfortunately very familiar with the signs of heat exhaustion. Each step was a struggle, feeling as though I was running through mud, my cadence and form painfully reflecting that effort. As Boris, the assistant coach for the race, later described it, it was as though I was doing a very odd running drill the last few hundred meters of the race. Or, as I call it, I was performing the "prancing pony", a very deliberate, exaggerated running form with much activity but little forward movement. Miraculously, I crossed the line and then collapsed (and not vice versa), preserving my 4th place finish. I was an absolute mess for the next hour- needing IVs, medications and the close attention of medical staff, as well as Jillian, a fellow US racer, and Boris (thank you thank you thank you!). I'm not sure how I will recover and whether my exertions in the heat will have consequences this weekend in the World Cup in Kitzbuhel, Austria. To be part of a race in Tizsaujvaros, however, was almost worth the suffering.
At the heart of the days of festivities, however, is the World Cup, the only event in which I participated. I placed 4th, my best finish to date at a World Cup, but not without some serious suffering. Anyone who follows my racing will have noticed that I have the tendency to race better when the temperature is below 80 degrees. I blame my parent's short-sighted decision to raise us in Upstate NY where I couldn't develop teflon-like heat resistance. When I was informed that the temperature would reach (98 F) 37C on the day of the race, I was very apprehensive but hopeful that I might have my first great warm-weather. Maybe, just maybe!
From the start of the race, I was off the front, gaining time in the swim and working solo until 10k or so into the bike, caught by a pack of four. During and before the race, I did everything I knew to do to combat the heat: starting the race well-hydrated, salting my food, taking liquids throughout the bike and dumping water on me. In my pack were three women I knew to be a real threat on the run: Felicity Abrams (Aussie currently ranked #1 in the world), Mariana Ohata (Brazilian known to race better as the mercury rises) and Andrea Whitcomb (veteran racer who represented the UK on the track in the Sydney Olympics). The first two kilometers of the run I felt good and took the pace out hard, leading the run of a world cup for the first time, until Felicity and Andrea passed me (fun while it lasted, though!). With each successive kilometer, however, my pace decreased and I felt increasingly worse. By the time I hit the last lap with 2.5 k remaining, I knew that there was a serious risk that I would be incapable of finishing, as I am unfortunately very familiar with the signs of heat exhaustion. Each step was a struggle, feeling as though I was running through mud, my cadence and form painfully reflecting that effort. As Boris, the assistant coach for the race, later described it, it was as though I was doing a very odd running drill the last few hundred meters of the race. Or, as I call it, I was performing the "prancing pony", a very deliberate, exaggerated running form with much activity but little forward movement. Miraculously, I crossed the line and then collapsed (and not vice versa), preserving my 4th place finish. I was an absolute mess for the next hour- needing IVs, medications and the close attention of medical staff, as well as Jillian, a fellow US racer, and Boris (thank you thank you thank you!). I'm not sure how I will recover and whether my exertions in the heat will have consequences this weekend in the World Cup in Kitzbuhel, Austria. To be part of a race in Tizsaujvaros, however, was almost worth the suffering.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
