The seesaw battle: My 2nd Ironman 70.3 experience

                       
The journey to my 2ndIronman 70.3 was literally a seesaw battle right from the time I signed up for the event until I embraced the finish line. Probably that’s the reason why this is more memorable than my first Ironman 70.3 which incidentally was in the same place-Santa Cruz. 



When I signed up for Ironman 70.3 Santa Cruz in December 2018, I was confident that I’d be able to train for it better this time. I was looking forward to joining the Team Asha program and training with them in the peak season from April to August. 

While I was able to make it for most of the open water sessions on Saturdays, I couldn’t accompany them on the bike rides on Sundays due to some personal commitments at home. Balancing my time with training and entertaining family who were visiting, was proving to be quite difficult with no time for recovery. 

To do or not to do:When I did manage to go on a few rides in July, I covered not more than 20-26 miles. I decided to wait and watch how I fared in the 2 Olympic distance triathlon events in August, until I took that final decision. To my surprise, I attained a personal best at both Tri Santa Cruz and the Oakland triathlon by 30-34 minutes. 

I decided to go ahead with 70.3 and did a 50-mile bike ride 3 weeks before the event. I felt drained little realizing that it was around the onset of my menstrual cycle where the body tends to get fatigued more than usual. 

After talking to the coaches of Team Asha, with a heavy heart, I almost kissed my 70.3 event goodbye. In the meanwhile, when I finished my menstrual cycle, I did a couple of more rides and a swim around the wharf. I contemplated switching to relay but somehow that didn’t work out.

The last-minute decision:After a strong 40-mile ride and a 9-mile run, a week before the event, I felt stronger and decided to go ahead. The coaches and my hubby Amit were patient, kind and very motivating, considering how confused and fickle minded I was which was unlike me. Kudos to them. 



Ironman Village: Having reached Santa Cruz on Friday evening, I checked into the Ironman village and collected my things which included the swim cap, race bibs, timing chip and the t shirt. I met Coach Dan whose swim clinic I had attended on August 25that Cowell beach. He recognized me and wished me luck saying I was going to be fine. I smiled and thanked him. 

Attending the athlete briefing on Saturday morning gave me a good idea about the aid stations on the bike and run course.  I checked in my bike at the transition at Depot park the same day which was mandatory for all athletes.  I met the rest of the cohort from Team Asha who were participating in the event. When I expressed my inhibitions, Coach Sumit and Shashi asked me to take it as a training. So did Coach Char who assured me that all will go well. After chatting with them for a while, I headed back to my hotel Ocean Pacific lodge which was right opposite the transition area, to get some good rest. 

The D day: It was dark at 5 am in the morning when I looked out of my window. The sky seemed clear unlike the previous day where the fog literally touched our faces. This was a good sign which meant that the swim would not be cancelled or shortened due to visibility issues. Nervous knots began to form in my stomach while I tried to munch on a croissant.  For the umpteenth time, I wondered what I was doing at a 70.3 race. 

I was of course scoffed by my partner who sternly reminded me that I was a 70.3 finisher too. “Mark my words, you will finish better than last time," he said. “But my biking on hills…I began only to be interrupted with a stern “You will do great.”  It gave me no more room for further lamenting. I picked up my bags and headed towards transition.  


Transition: Athletes had already begun to stream in and were setting up their things. I found my way to my bike which was placed on the rack assigned according to my bib number 658. I looked at all those strong athletes in awe! How self-assured they looked! It seemed like they could wake up any fine morning and finish a 70.3 race in a strong fashion. Maybe someday I’d be like them.  Couple of them smiled at me kindly looking at my nervous face. I set up my things in the order of swim, bike and run. 

Out came my pink swim cap, wetsuit, body glide, goggles and ear plugs. Then I placed my helmet, gloves, glasses, fuel belt and biking shoes. After which I placed my visor and running shoes with a bottle of Gatorade. I checked the pressure on both the tyres that were damp from the morning dew. I had filled air the previous day so it seemed fine. I got my body marking done from a volunteer who incidentally was at the same swim clinic that I had attended a few weeks ago.  “Thank you for volunteering,” I said gratefully. These volunteers were the unsung heroes of any event without whom embracing the finish line would be impossible. 

I slipped on my wetsuit, cap and goggles and went in search of my cohort. I spotted Vineeta and Megha who were doing the relay. Martin joined us and we all headed towards the beach.  We were met by other Team Asha folks who had come to cheer for us. Soujanya hugged us and reassured me that I will be fine when I told her how nervous I was. 

Warm up swim: The water felt warmer than it was the previous week when we had all come for a wharf swim.  I spotted a sea lion in the vicinity and froze on the spot. Another swimmer humored me saying that we could probably trail behind them and attain our personal best in the swim. I chuckled and entered the waters chanting “Om Gan ganpathaye namaha” (salutations to the elephant faced God)-a mantra that I always chant before any event.  



I felt better after a few laps. However, my goggles seemed a little hazy that morning. I dipped it in water several times but it was still hazy. I prayed and hoped that my sighting wouldn’t come in the way.  Megha offered to lend me her other pair of goggles but I decided to stick with mine, not wanting to try anything new on race day. Just then the sun came out and I let a whoop of delight. It was a dejavu moment as something similar occurred last year. I made a mental note to go shopping for a new pair of goggles once I was done with this season.  



It was a rolling swim start and we parked ourselves in the timing slots according to our pace. Martin and Megha went ahead while I stayed behind with the 50 minutes slot. 

The actual race swim (1.2 miles): As I crossed the timing chip, I heard my cohort calling out my name. I waved to them and jumped into the water, preparing to put in all that I learnt in those swim sessions and clinics.  I soon found my rhythm as Coach Shashi had suggested at Donner Lake and remembered to keep my head down this time to go faster. I made a conscious effort to swim buoy to buoy to ensure that I don’t drift. 

During the middle of the swim, a seaweed which was shaped in a form on a human palm brushed against my face. For some reason, I was reminded of the horror flick ‘What lies beneath’ and literally choked only to realize it was a seaweed. I instantly remembered Coach Char’s mail where he had joked about the seaweeds and chuckled.  Getting back my rhythm, I continued swimming, overtaking a few swimmers who suddenly decided to swim using backstroke. 

I soon reached the turnaround point. This was the tricky part of the swim and the waves were choppy at this section. The entire churn made me experience the washing machine effect. I slowed down and focused on surviving this section until I reached the buoy from where I could swim straight. It was at this juncture that I heard the sea lions barking. That was enough to increase my pace. 

Darting nervous looks, I swam strong strokes and began to overtake a few more swimmers. I soon reached the famous buoy which was the swimming point during all those swim clinics and sessions. Gaining a psychological edge, I increased my pace and soon reached the shore. Standing up and glancing behind to ensure there was no wave to knock me down, I ran towards depot park, glancing at my watch. I had finished my swim in 00:52:47 just as Coach Char had predicted last week. I was faster by 7 minutes than last year.  I was happy as I wanted to get as much time possible to make the bike cut off. 



Transition 1: I waved at my cohort and started removing my wetsuit. Just outside the beach, a group of volunteers were pulling off the wetsuits from athletes. Bless them! They helped me yank my wetsuit off and I ran towards transition carrying it with me.  

“Great going Swe,” Amit called out. I crossed the tracks and ran barefoot all the way to my bike panting. After stuffing my wetsuit in my plastic bag, I slipped on my bandana, helmet, glasses, gloves, race belt fuel belt and shoes. Since the athlete guide strictly prohibited athletes from eating inside transition, I grabbed a couple of gu gels and wheeled my bike towards the mounting area. I took around 9 minutes cutting down a couple of minutes from last year. I had around 4 hours and 28 minutes to make the bike cut off. Muttering another prayer, I set off to cross another hurdle. 

Riding the wheels on highway 1(56 miles): “Have fun on the bike ride,” one of the volunteers shouted.  I mounted on my bike and soon began to find my rhythm. The first 4 miles were more or less fast so I upped the pace initially. I soon hit Highway 1 and was fine up to the 10thmile which was when the real seesaw battle began. 

I was greeted by fierce headwinds and rolling hills.  The winds were so unrelenting that it felt like I was being pushed back on my bike. I huffed and puffed my way up those inclines. I saw other strong bikers slowing down as well. A lady remarked to me cheerfully saying, “We are going to get a good tailwind on our way back.” I agreed and made up my mind to somehow get to the turnaround point in one piece. 

 As I crossed Davenport at the 12thmile, I kept a sharp lookout for the railway tracks a little ahead as Coach Char had instructed. I had earlier read some reports where a few athletes had fallen off their bikes at this point. Shuddering at the thought, I deliberately slowed down.  I picked up pace again until I reached the first aid station at Mile 14.5. Gulping down Gatorade and gu gels, I thanked the volunteers and spotted Megha. I asked her how she was doing and continued pedaling furiously. 

More hills and more headwinds. I wondered what on earth I was doing here sandwiched between the wilderness on one side and ocean on the other, battling headwinds while I could have been sleeping peacefully. I shook my head and followed other bikers. I kept glancing at other bikers and their placement of gears when they overtook me. This was something that I started doing recently even during my training rides. I wanted to see how other strong bikers battled the hills.  All of them were wearing cleats and I felt ancient compared to them.  I definitely had to switch to cleats else I could forget about getting stronger on my bike on these unrelenting and never-ending inclines. 

Last year I enjoyed the views of the ocean a lot more. Probably because it was my first time and I was just enjoying the experience. This time, my eyes were on the small computer device attached to my bike, ensuring that I don’t drop the average pace. At a couple of points, the device read 8 mph and 10 mph on hills which almost made me get a heart attack. Hell no! This can’t be happening.

 “Come on Rocky,” I coaxed my bike, choosing to name it after the Sylvester Stallone Starrer Rocky Balboa.  It was certainly a rock-solid bike that weathered a good number of terrains and mileages.  No matter how many times my bike gets knocked down, it bounces back stronger than ever. I still remember that crash on Foothill Expressway couple of years ago. I was dented and bruised but my bike was sturdy as ever. 

Any normal person would have dismissed me as a loony bin for talking to her bike but not a triathlete.  A bike is much more than just a 2-wheeler for such folks. It’s a friend and an ally to cross one of the major legs in a triathlon. 

I was soon at the 25thmile. Just 3 more to go before I could zoom down with the tail wind, just like I had seen other bikers whizz past me on the other side.  Like a person possessed I continued pushing hard, overtaking some other bikers with a pleading ‘On your left,’ remark so that I wouldn’t crash into them. They let me go. From a distance, I spotted the Pigeon point lighthouse standing tall and proud. I heaved a sigh of relief realizing I was close to the turnaround point at mile 28. 



“Turn around here,” the volunteers gestured. 

“Time to catch the tailwind Rocky,” I patted my bike and off we went. It was probably for the first time that afternoon that I began to enjoy my ride. I zoomed down those inclines and upped my pace. I glanced at my device. To my relief, the average speed began to increase. I paused at the aid station at mile 30 to stock up my fuel of water, Gatorade and gu gels. Thanking the volunteers again, I whizzed past while glancing at the pristine blue ocean that glistened in the sunlight. 

Nature sure had its own way of making up to you. While the headwinds made it tough one way, the tailwinds definitely aided bikers back home. I soon averaged at 14 mph. Apart from a couple of climbs, it was mostly flat and downhill. However, I was careful on these downhills especially since at one point, I felt I was going to be thrown off my bike. I made a stop at the last aid station at mile 42.  14 more miles to go. I pedaled hard and soon took a right from Highway 1, where I found myself on the quaint streets of Santa Cruz. 

I spotted Soujanya, Divya and Arvind waving and cheering. “Keep eating something,” Soujanya called out. I nodded and continued biking all the way on West cliff drive to the dismount area.  I had finished my bike in 3:50: 57, shaving off 11 minutes from my previous years’ time.  



“Good job. Great to see you back.” one of the volunteers called out. 

“I am so glad to be back too,” I panted wheeling my bike towards transition. 

Transition 2: I mounted my bike on the rack, removed my helmet and gloves. Slipping on my visor, running shoes, I grabbed a bottle of Gatorade and headed out to finish the last leg.  Time taken: 4:29.



Run along the cliff, trails and heat: It was incorrigibly hot. To an extent, it actually felt like running inside a microwave. I stopped at the first aid station and poured water on my head. Feeling cooler, I continued my strides. Around mile 2.5, I spotted Coach Sumit. “Good going,” he said. It motivated me to keep going. After a while I spotted Martin and waved to him.  At mile 4, I spotted Soujanya, Divya and Arvind and gave them a hi five. They asked if I was fine and I answered in affirmative.  

I had entered the Wilder Ranch State park.  On the way, I met Stan who encouraged me to keep going. “Don’t think about the headwinds. Just keep going. You will soon reach the turnaround point.” I was grateful for these encouraging words. 



The roads soon paved way to dirt trails. I watched my step especially on some of those stones. At one point, I caught sight of the surfers in the ocean. Squeals of laughter floated in the air and for a minute I felt pangs of envy. I longed to laze around on the beach. 

However  I focused and kept going until Mile 9 after which the heat began to get to me. I poured water again on my head and met Stan. “Just 4 miles to go. Remember its 4 repeats of 1 mile.” I nodded grateful to receive such motivating words.  I ran into Soujanya again who cheered me on. 

I passed a few people at the 10thmile. When I paused to catch my breath, one of them remarked “You are going strong.” Enough incentive to make me push. 3 more miles I told myself which was almost downhill.  

West cliff drive was filled with families who had come out to enjoy their Sunday. They cheered me on and I continued running overtaking a few more runners. I was nearing the beach and could hear the emcees voice. I ran and ran and prepared to sprint to the finish. “Good going Swetha,” I heard Coach Sumit and Deepak call out. 

Being a beach finish, it was tough to sprint on sand but I did my best and embraced the finish line in 7:34:59, shaving off 31 minutes from my previous years timing just as Amit and my mentor Viv had correctly predicted. 



After attaining my finishers medal and cap, I plonked myself near the volunteers and gulped an entire bottle of water. 



Post-race celebrations: It was fun to join the rest of the cohort and bask in the celebrations by congratulating one another. All of us posed around this beautiful carving on the beach that said Ironman 70.3 Santa Cruz, with our finishers' medal. As we got around to discussing our race experience, everyone agreed that the bike course was tough. In fact, tougher than Santa Rosa.  



While triathlon is a solo sport, training for it as a group and doing events together keeps you motivated. That’s the beauty part of the team spirit. 

Later that evening, I sat by the pier and celebrated with a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon at Ideal Cafe. The wharf around which I swam that morning twinkled in the lights and portrayed a pretty picture. 



As I look back on the past few months, I have learnt a lot and still have a lot more to learn especially with regards to my biking. There is definitely more scope for improvement. 

I also have a lot of people that I am thankful to for enabling me to overcome this seesaw battle. 


Acknowlegments: 



God-It is said faith floats and this faith certainly moved mountains. Thank you Ganpati bappa for ensuring a smooth journey to the finish line. 

My mentors Viv Menon and Ashok Someshwar from Mumbai who have been so patient with my confusion and fickle minded nature this season. 

Coaches of Team Asha-Coach Char, Coach Shashi and Coach Sumit-Big thanks for being patient and approachable always. And thanks for all your inputs especially during the open water sessions. Forever grateful. 

My entire cohort of Team Asha for coming out there and cheering. Meant a lot.  It was fun training and racing with you guys. Look forward to more such seasons.

Penni Bengston, Sharon Barclay, Coach Dan for all those swim clinics. Learnt a lot from each one of them.

Coach Jay and Pacwest team for helping me out last year with my first Ironman 70.3, when I was a novice. Will never forget that. 

My Mumbai road runners’ community for encouraging me always. 

Aditya Sahu deserves a special mention as he always felt I'd do an Ironman long back. Even today he encourages me saying that I will do a full Ironman distance soon. 

My family-Amit, Samara and my parents for being supportive always. 

Volunteers- As I mentioned earlier they are the unsung heroes of any event. The amount of energy and enthusiasm displayed at every aid station was remarkable! If not for them, I probably would not have crossed the finish line. 




Comments

Subhashini said…
Congratulations Swetha. Well articulated as while reading I was able to visualize the whole journey. It needs great amount of courage to do Iron Man half or full. All the best for all your future endeavors. Keep inspiring people like us

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