From atop Mount Finlayson |
For the race this year, race directors moved the start and finish back to the north end of Elk Lake. This allowed for an improved swim, both because of cleaner waters and a more accurate swim course distance. They also maintained the single loop of cycling, which traversed all types of roads and took us through nearly every type of environment this small peninsula of British Columbia has to offer. I appreciated the scenery of this course with the stretches of thick, lush forests that enveloped the road. Finally, the run continued to follow the 10k path comprised of gravel, dirt, and a short stretch of asphalt. This year, we ran in a counter clockwise direction, which is what we did the first year, in 2015.
Regardless, we made fast time setting up and walked down to the swim start. The corrals that forced athletes to cozy up far too close last year in our efforts to self seed into a rolling start position had widened this year. The extra accommodation allowed us all to position ourselves appropriately to enter the water when we wanted to. Seeding myself in the under 30 minutes section allowed me to actually, for the first time ever, swim a true 1.2 mile course in 28:13. For this reason, I know I'm now a firm advocate for the rolling start format rather than the wave start. Nine times out of ten, my wave start has screwed me. Trying to swim my way through schools of people who swim far slower than me has never seemed fair. With the rolling start, I actually had the opportunity to swim with people like me, and this time, I actually swam with the same people the entire swim, shifting positions no more than three to four times.
Perhaps I ran angry. I likely ran determined. Within the first kilometer, I encountered Kendra Goffredo, a professional woman I'd had the pleasure to meet last year in Coeur d'Alene. We'd ran together for a bit there before she drew away from me on our way to the finish line. Here, it appeared I had the opportunity to return the favor, seeing as though I felt terrific. She thanked me for my presence on this lonely stretch of the course, and we continued to run together until the fifth kilometer or so, when I started to pull away in my efforts to find the two other women I knew of in my age group who had passed me on the bike.
The first lap: fantastic! |
The home stretch: brutal. |
With one kilometer to the finish, I passed them both. Most notably, however, I ran my fastest run split to date, in a time just shy of 1:32. My mixed feelings after this race stem from the fact my two break through performances in the swim and on the run were not enough to overcome my poor performance on the bike. In addition, I realized the downside to a rolling start when, despite crossing the finish line as the third woman in my age group, I ended up in 4th place. I don't think the satisfaction of passing both those ladies on the run will be tainted by the seconds that inevitably deprived me of third place, though. I remind myself to embrace the small victories that ultimately mean I'm making progress toward my bigger goals. The big picture alludes me sometimes, but generally, I find myself filled with excitement for the potential I have not yet
discovered.
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