THE PANASONIC NYC TRIATHLON RACE REPORT
Yes, yes, yes...a million times YES! If you can do this race, by all means do it! I absolutely LOVED this race, even with the dead fish floating in the Hudson. So here we go:
PACKET PICKUP:
Was at the New York Hilton Midtown located at 1335 Avenue of the Americas. Everyone was required to attend the mandatory meeting after which you got your hand stamped as proof for packet pickup. No stamp, no packet. We arrived early so that we could do the 10:00 am meeting but what we didn't realize that transition didn't open until 2:00 pm, so we had to wait around a few hours before my brother (and team-mate) could rack his bike in transition. Everyone was required to rack their bicycles in transition the day before.
Since we had a few hours to kill, we walked around the expo and I bought myself a swanky looking NYC Tri-Kit. Can't wait to wear it :) After that, my niece (the runner) took the subway home while my brother and I went to the Hard Rock Café in Times Square for lunch. Transition opened at 2:00 pm sharp. He racked his bike and we both headed home.
RACE DAY:
I prepared all of my gear the night before and hit the sack early. I got up at 2:30 am and left my house by 3:00 pm. It sucked hard knowing that Tom couldn't be there. I had been looking forward to doing this race with him, so leaving him at home felt horrible. I arrived in Manhattan at 4:10 and my brother and I found street parking not far from the transition area.
RACE DAY TRANSITION:
The transition area looked amazing and was buzzing with nervous yet anxious triathletes. The relay teams had a special area designated just for them. Everyone got their own personal racking area and each one had a motivational saying. This was ours: THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE TRANSITION...
We met a lot of nice people in transition and hung out with them until it was time to leave. When transition closed, everyone had to leave except for the relay members NOT doing the swim. All of us swimmers left transition and made the 1 mile walk up to the swim start.
JUMPING INTO THE HUDSON:
I got to the swim start with a lot of time to spare. I had my wetsuit, goggles, swim cap and ear plugs in hand. I had a cheap pair of flip flops that I threw away when I got to the swim start. The water temp was 73.9 degrees, so it was wetsuit legal.
The corrals were set up and clearly marked. I waited near the Relay Team corral and chatted with a group of really nice folks. We all stared at the river and couldn't help but notice how many dead fish were floating on the surface, along with debris. There were a lot sticks, Styrofoam cups, plastic plates, an empty bottle of Sprite, all heading down stream. Everyone felt a little panicked about this, but it is the Hudson and we knew what we were getting in to. Suck it up folks!
After the professionals took off, it was our turn to go. I was in the last wave of swimmers. Once they started getting the age-groupers into the water, everything moved VERY quickly. There was really no time to reconsider what was about to happen.
I lined up with my Relay Team Swim Wave (silver caps) and followed the line onto the plank. Just before you walk the plank onto the dock, there are showers to get you acclimated to the cold water. We walked down the plank and there was a group of about 15 swimmers sitting on the edge of the dock. The whistle blew and they all jumped in. Next we stepped up and sat on the edge of the dock. Everything was happening so darn fast. I sat down in the middle and the whistle blew. I jumped in and held my goggles and nose. I popped back up to the surface and felt as if my goggles were too far down. The river began carrying me downstream, however my goggles felt really wonky. At first I tried swimming with them as they were, but I had to flip onto my back so that I could re-adjust them. I couldn't swim that far with them feeling so uncomfortable. Once I had them re-adjust, I flipped back over, stuck my face in the water and simply began to swim. I didn't really "feel" the current pushing me, although I knew it was. Very quickly I started catching up with other swimmers. I did feel a bit panicky at first, but within about 5 minutes the feeling started to subside and I was able to focus on just swimming.
The swim was going well at first and then I realized I had swam into a debris field. Suddenly I felt something on my arm and on my forehead. I stopped swimming for a moment and saw that a piece of plastic had wrapped around my arm and a there were sticks and cups floating all around me. I untangled the plastic and threw it aside and got back to swimming. For some reason I kept swimming too far to the left and that was where all of the debris was going. I tried getting myself to the right since there seemed to be less garbage in that area. I noticed a lot of people floating on their back and it was becoming difficult to get around some of them. One girl had a panic attack and needed the help of a lifeguard. As she clung to his paddle board a jet skier came flying over to help her...directly in front of me. We had to swim far right to get around them.
I did a lot of sighting because the river started to get a bit crowded and the people floating on their backs were being pulled towards the left (in front of me) . They were completely unaware of where they were heading. I saw one really panicked swimmer and stopped to ask her if she was okay, which she said she was. I continued on. Another woman who was floating on her back suddenly flipped over to start swimming just as I passed her and swam directly onto my back. I kicked hard and got her off of me. As we got close to the swim exit, there were buoys squeezing us in so that we could be guided towards the exit stairs. This was where it really started getting a bit bogged down. I swam all the way to the stairs, grabbed the railing, 2 volunteers yanked me out. I had brown gunk covering my entire face but I didn't care, I had SURVIVED THE HUDSON RIVER! I got out and start hauling ass, running towards transition. I was so excited that I kept yelling at everyone "that was so awesome". Every time I yelled, a group of people would cheer. I know I was acting like a big dork but I ran all the way to transition screaming. Yeah I was a bit excited! And the distance between the swim exit and yellow transition is far. But I didn't care. I was thrilled!!!
T1:
Like I said, the distance between the swim exit and the yellow transition area is FAR! But I ran all the way to the transition area and saw that my brother was waiting for me and ready to bike. I threw the timing chip on his ankle and boom, off he went!
BIKING ON RIVERSIDE DRIVE:
The bike along Riverside was hillier than my brother expected; and he's a good cyclist. You meet your first big climb immediately out of the transition area. They tell you at the mandatory meeting to make sure your bike is on a very easy gear. It's a steep upward climb.
The entire course is in the sun with no shade whatsoever. Plus it was a blistering hot day. Lester mentioned that most of the cyclists stayed towards the right except to pass. And when they did pass, most of them moved immediately to the right again so that everyone else could pass. There were a couple of turn around points on the course, but for the most part the bike ride was uneventful. He had a bottle of water and a bottle of Tailwind with him for electrolyte replacement. When he came back to the transition area, we noticed he didn't look too good. He stopped at the bike racking area and I removed the timing chip from his ankle and put it on my nieces ankle. She took off while I helped my brother rack his back
T2:
As my niece left the transition area for her run, I stayed behind with my brother. He was completely over heated and on the verge of passing out. I got him to sit down and I poured cool water on his neck. I got him cold water and Gatorade to drink, praying that he wasn't going to faint. After about 10 minutes he started coming around and we made our way out of transition so that we could go to the finish line to see Joanna cross.
THE RUN:
The run is pretty neat. You hit your first incline as soon as you leave transition and you head towards 72nd street. 72nd street is completely closed to traffic and there are a lot of spectators cheering you along. You enter into Central Park and do the long course heading uptown. Central Park is hilly, so be prepared! There are plenty of fluid stations along the way, but on 90+ degree day, there can never be enough.
The finish line is really nice. The finish chute is long and is line with flags from around the country. The announcer announces every finishers name as they cross the finish line. We saw my niece Joanna as she was ready to cross. I yelled out to her but she didn't respond. She wasn't feeling well and I knew it was a tough run for her. We met at the family meeting place and she was kind enough to collect medals for each of us.
There was a great after party area with so much good free stuff. We wandered around and enjoyed the after party, then decided to being the long walk back to the transition area so that we could leave. Its a really far distance between the finish line and transition. They began allowing everyone to leave at 11:00 am. We packed our stuff up and headed back to the car. I was amazed at how many random people stopped us in the street and congratulated us. It was like a big party for everyone in the area. 72nd street was re-opened to traffic and we had no problems driving or getting stuck in traffic. If we do it next year, we'll definitely street park again. But yes, the Panasonic NYC Triathlon is everything that it's cracked up to be!
SWIM ANXIETY:
Much to my surprise I didn't have any swim anxiety. I do admit that I wasn't thrilled watching all the dead fish floating down stream, but I really thought I would have been more panicked. Once we lined up and we started going in, the line moved quickly. Before I knew it, I was standing on the dock getting ready to jump in. There wasn't much time for procrastinating or overthinking. You just lined up and jumped. Once I was in I felt a slightly nervous but I managed to put my face into the water and started swimming freestyle. Other than adjusting my goggles when I first got in, I think I stopped twice (very briefly) just to see where I was in the pack. Each time I got back to swimming quickly and after my second look around, I didn't stop until the end. I was pleasantly surprised that I didn't have any panic attacks. There was plenty of room for everyone in the river and it didn't feel like people were swimming over you. There were times when people got close, but everyone had more than enough room to claim their own personal swim space. Honestly? The swim was MUCH better than I anticipated it to be.
SWIM: 26:36
T1: 4:31
BIKE: 1:56:42
T2: 1:08
RUN: 1:04:10
FINISH TIME: 3:01:59
The date for the surgery was set; July 8 at Memorial Sloan Kettering. Telling our families was the second hardest part...hearing the diagnosis ourselves was the hardest part. We still had a full week until the surgery and the 4th of July weekend was coming upon us quickly. For Tom, it wasn't quick enough.
The day before July 4th I noticed Tom suddenly didn't look good. He looked pale and sick. We spent the July 4th holiday with my family and even they noticed how ill he looked.
The days seemed to move in slow motion, but finally July 8 was upon us. It was time for Tommy to get his kidney and tumor removed. We arrived at MSK 3 hours early and parked in a garage up the street. The odd thing was that after months of Tom's tibia hurting him, it didn't hurt at all that day.
As we waited to be called into the pre-op area, we met a lovely couple from Brooklyn. The wife was having lung surgery to remove a tumor that had spread from her bones into her lungs. The reality of everything was setting in. At 1:30 pm they called Tom into the pre-op area and allowed me to stay with him.
They hooked him up to his IV and prepared him for his surgery. We even took a selfie together. At 3:30 pm a nurse came in and asked if he was ready to head into the operating room. Tom and I said goodbye and off he went. I went downstairs and grabbed a quick bite to eat. I wasn't overly worried about Tom surviving the surgery because I had 100% confidence in him, Dr. Russo and the medical team. Dr. Russo commented several times that Tommy's excellent physical condition, thanks to all of his running, would work to his advantage.
A nurse found me in the waiting room at about 5:30 pm and told me that the surgery officially began at 4:20 pm and that everything was going well. By 7:00 pm, I received a phone call that the surgery was complete and that I was to meet with Dr. Russo on the 6th floor.
Dr. Russo came into the room and sat with me to discuss the procedure. He said Tommy did very well through the surgery however he lost a lot of blood. He said the tumor was huge. They removed the entire kidney with the tumor and didn't see any cancer in the surrounding organs. It was pushing up against the diaphragm and spleen, so that made the surgery a bit more tricky. If Tom recovered as well as expected, he would be able go home on Friday.
I was allowed to see him in the recovery area. He was awake and talking and in a bit of pain. I was actually surprised at how alert he was. I stayed with him as long as I could but eventually I had to get home to our kids.
The next morning (Thursday) I headed back to Sloan Kettering to see how Tom was doing. When I got there, I was pleasantly surprised. He was up and walking laps of the 5th floor. A physical therapist did a few laps with us and then asked him if he could walk up and down a few stairs. Tom passed with flying colors!
The next day (Friday) Tommy texted me early in the morning and said he was being released. I dropped our daughter off at camp and flew into the city as quickly as I could. When I got to Tom's room, he was READY TO GO! By noon that day, he was already home.
Tom's recovery continues to improve every single day. In fact as I write this, I can say that today was a really good day for him. He still has some soreness, but he continues to move as much as possible and his appetite is slowly returning. Our next step in the journey is to meet with a Radiologist to discuss cyber-knife for the tibia. Cyber-knife is essentially a strong targeted radiation. We're hoping to get moving on that as quickly as possible and then in 10 days we meet with the Oncologist to discuss immunotherapy to treat the disease systemically.
We're learning to take life day by day at this point and to appreciate the little things that life has to offer. The journey has just begun but there are still a lot of unanswered questions. Questions that may never have a clear answer. But that's ok. I'm just happy for today.
"I'm sorry, but I have bad news for you". That was how it all started, just 2 1/2 weeks ago. One small sentence and our worlds forever changed.
The story started back in mid April. Tom was having pain deep in his left tibia and attributed it to running. He eased up on the running (eventually stopping all together) but the pain didn't subside. By late May he developed a chronic cough and was severely fatigued. I scheduled an appointment with Dr. Swan, an amazing sports orthopedic doctor here in New Jersey. We went to see in June and after x-raying the bone he noticed a lesion on the tibia. He sent Tom for an MRI and wasn't happy with the outcome. Next came a series of blood work followed by a CAT scan and an full body bone scan.
The day after the scans we were scheduled to visit with Dr. Swan to hear the results. He walked into the room and paused. I knew by the look on his face he was deeply concerned. "First, how is your leg feeling", he asked. "Well it still hurts but Advil seems to knock the pain down", hubby Tom responded. Dr. Swan took a deep breath and said "I'm sorry, but I have bad news for you". And so we discovered at that very moment, on a random Friday morning in June, the reality of what was going on. "You have a very large mass on your left kidney and two masses on your left lung. The kidney is where this whole thing started".
Tom was diagnosed with stage 4 Renal Cell Carcinoma. The tumor in the tibia was the least of the problems at the moment. It felt as if someone punched me right in the gut. Dr. Swan had prepared and spoken with an oncologist from Robert Wood Johnson hospital. The kidney needed to be removed. "What about Sloan Kettering" I asked? He recommended we consider all options including Sloan Kettering.
On the ride home Tom insisted on going to Robert Wood Johnson hospital, simply because it close to our house. I told him we needed to consider Sloan Kettering. The commute was obviously longer, but people travel from around the world to go to MSK. Keep every option open.
We spent the weekend trying to act normal around the kids and trying to continue life as normal as possible. I even did the Philly Tri Rock Triathlon the day after the diagnosis, but it was the worst slog imaginable. Moments of sleep gave us a brief respite from thinking about it, but the second we woke up it was right there waiting for us again. There is no escaping the realities of cancer. For the next couple of days it felt as if someone had dumped us in the middle of the ocean and left for us for dead. It felt like Tom and I were bobbing against the tide trying to figure out which direction to go in, trying to figure out simply how to survive.
We sat our kids down and explained what was going on. All I can tell you is that we have the most wonderful, caring kids in the whole wide world. This is a lot for them to take in.
Tom didn't want to tell any of our extended family or friends of his diagnosis until we had an idea as to which direction things were heading in. That Monday morning I contacted MSK (Memorial Sloan Kettering) and asked to meet with Dr. Paul Russo. Dr. Russo is a top kidney surgeon specializing in Renal Cell Carcinoma, or RCC. He read Tom's report and agreed to meet with us Tuesday evening. Of course, the 4 of July weekend was upon us and it seemed as if every doctor was leaving town. Dr. Russo stayed late and agreed to do the surgery the following Wednesday, July 8th. Tom would have a Radical Nephrectomy meaning the entire left kidney would be removed.
The next day, we met with a wonderful oncologist, Dr. Ellen Ronnen, at Robert Wood Johnson for a second opinion. She spent a lot of time discussing Tom's diagnosis but we felt that MSK was where Tom needed to be. Since the disease has spread, there is no cure. The best we can hope for is a treatment plan that will put the disease into remission. And for that task, we will be meeting with Dr. Motzer at MSK at the end of July.
So one day we were living a normal life, working, raising a family, running, enjoying the weekends together, then suddenly it felt as if someone ripped it all away. I lost my mother to cancer when I was 18 years old, I already knew life held no guarantees. Over the years I had re-establish that false sense of security, but that security is forever stripped away. I have strong feeling of anger right now. I'm not angry at anyone in particular, I'm just angry at life itself. This shouldn't happen to someone as kind, , gentle, good and loving as my husband. But I know life is life, and that's how life goes.
SAYING GOODBYE TO OPEN WATER SWIM ANXIETY
So last week I completed my first 1.2 mile open water swim competition (see blog post here). As race day got closer, my apprehension and anxiety over swimming in open water grew. I was on the verge of pulling the plug on everything...swimming, biking, triathlon in general. And then a friend at the YMCA talked me down.
I've spent the last year trying to understand and pinpoint specifically what caused my anxiety. But a conversation with my friend Dave revealed some very interesting truths. Dave is a triathlete who has completed close to 100 triathlons, Ironman included. If anyone would understand, he would! I explained that every time I got over one fear, another fear seemed to creep up to take its place. Somehow I believed that if I could pinpoint the exact fear, I could overcome it.
And here is where I discovered the truth of the problem...it isn't just ONE fear, its multiple fears. And that's very normal.
A fear of swimming in deep water, a fear of not having anything to hold on to if I need a break, a fear of not being able to stand up, a fear of being kicked in the face, a fear of someone swimming over me, a fear of being unable to complete the distance non-stop, a fear of not being able catch my breath. These multiple fears overwhelmed me on race day, and yet they all related to one very specific thing; confidence in my swimming ability. I've discovered that confidence is THE key!
MY BIGGEST HURDLE AT THE MOMENT
While I was improving during my open water swim practices at the lake, one big issue remained. Could I swim the entire distance without stopping? And if I did need a break, how would I handle it? Every time I swam at the pool I believed I needed to stop after a handful of laps to take a quick break. I had never pushed myself to swim long distance without stopping. And this terrible habit followed me to the lake as well. What's worse is that there's a sand bar at the lake where you can stop and take a break.
And this is where Dave stepped in. He told me that I really needed to mentally push myself and swim 2,500 yards in the pool without stopping. His exact words were "resist the urge to stop". If I did stop, it should be for a few very brief seconds and back to swimming immediately. The first 16 to 24 lengths would be the most challenging mentally, but once I was in a groove I shouldn't feel the need to stop and hang on the wall.
So I took Dave's advice and swam 2,500 yards without stopping. And he was completely right; the first 16 lengths or so were the hardest. After 8 lengths I desperately wanted to stop for a break, but I just kept pushing. "Resist the urge to stop". Once I found a groove, my breathing became rhythmic and controlled. Two days later I went back and ended up swimming 2 full miles non-stop. THAT was a HUGE confidence booster! The trick for me was to slow down my swim stroke every time I wanted to stop. Once the urge passed, I could pick up my pace again.
Going into the Nav-e-Sink or Swim race, I believed that if I could get over the initial shock of getting in with a mass swim start and if I started out slowly, I could swim the entire 1.2 mile distance without stopping. And that was what I did.
I'm beginning to realize that open water swimming, and swimming in general, requires more than just physical endurance. It's a mental game that requires self confidence in your ability so that you can handle anything that comes your way, especially in a race. So just keep swimming, resist the urge to stop and no hanging on the pool wall. Rivers, lakes and oceans don't have walls to hang on to. MT=Mental Toughness. Get your head right.
I cannot wait to share this race report with you! This was my first year doing the Nav-e-Sink or Swim 1.2 mile open water swim competition in Rumson NJ. Last year, when I was completely new to swimming, I remember thinking that there would never be a day when I (ME) could swim 1.2 miles...in open water. But here I was. Getting ready for my first ever 1.2 mile swim competition.
I signed up for the race last minute. My friend Mollie and Adele were doing it, so I decided to be a follower (not a leader) and give it a try. After hitting the submit button, I regretted my decision instantly. What was I thinking??? I'll tell you what I was thinking..."that's some cool looking 10th anniversary medal they're giving out". Yeah, this isn't the first time I've signed up for a race because of a cool looking medal.
PACKET PICKUP
Tom and I took a ride down to Victory Park in Rumson NJ the evening before the race. I picked up our race packets and tried not to get myself worked up over the swim. But yeah, I admit it, I was really nervous. I even had a dream that I kept going under water and popping back up again and Adele kept telling me that everything would be ok. As I'm sure you can guess, I didn't get the best nights sleep.
RACE DAY
The participant list looked long and once again, I was worried about parking. Eh hem, story of my life. We were out the door at 5:00 am and arrived at Victory Park at 6:15. The sun was coming up and the sky looked beautiful. The buoys were out and the course was set.
We laid our towels on the lawn (the smart people brought picnic blankets) and hung out together. At 7:00 am I decided to go for an easy 10 minute run. I just needed to be alone and shake off the nervousness. By the time I got back Mollie and Adele were in their wetsuits and ready to go. The air temperature was in low 50's (as in cold) and the water temperature was about 61 degrees (as in cold). It was a bit windy and the conditions caused the water to be choppy. I was having major second thoughts about this.
The race began with the 1.2 mile swimmers followed by the 2.4 mile swimmers at 8:00 am. The first wave (1.2 mile Age Group Men) lined up on the shore. The horn blew at 7:30 am sharp, and off they went into the cold, murky Navesink river. Next it was our turn. Nearly 200 women lined up and at 7:38 am, the horn went off. I stayed at the very back of the pack and let them all go in. Myself and 6 other women were the last to get in. Three minutes later, the 1.2 mile Buddy Heat would follow and at 8:00 am the 2.4 mile swimmers would get in. That river was going to get crowded pretty soon.
THE COURSE
I got in and decided to see if I could put my head down and swim. Nope. It was dark and murky and I had that horrible feeling in my chest. I took a few strokes with my head up then put my face into the water again. Nope. Still too dark and murky. As I swam with my head up, I heard a woman yelling for a lifeguard. A group of us tried to get a lifeguards attention. She was panicked and wanted to get out of the water. Slowly she calmed down and decided to see if she could continue. Meanwhile, the clock was ticking.
The first buoy was located at the corner of a dock that we had to swim around. I noticed most of the women around me were either doing a slow breaststroke, floating on their back, or bobbing and procrastinating. It felt crowded around the dock and I felt uncomfortable with the whole scene. I decided it was time to beat it out there, so I put my face in the water and swam freestyle. I found a jolt of confidence and decided at that moment that I wasn't going to stop swimming until the end.
I turned the dock and entered into a cove-like area heading upstream. It wasn't really difficult swimming upstream because the cove seemed to keep the current to a minimum. I *believed* that when I made it to the turn around buoy I would be heading downstream, thus having the current at my back. I didn't know how wrong my *belief* was.
Along with the choppy water, I felt these random waves but I wasn't sure where they were coming from. And then I realized the waves were caused by boats going down the river. Several times I tried to take in air and got a mouth full of water instead. Now add waves to that and it felt a bit surreal and insane. "Keep calm and think about technique" was what I kept telling myself. I swam along going buoy to buoy upstream without stopping. If a wave lifted me up, I stayed relaxed and went with it. If I got a mouth full of water, I spit it out and hoped for air on the next go around.
FINALLY I arrived at the green turn buoy. I swam around the buoy and noticed a few women had stopped for a break. Apparently the water was really shallow there, so you could stand up if you wanted to. Nope, I'm not stopping now.
After turning the buoy I discovered what was in store for the rest of the swim "downstream". I didn't know it at first but the Navesink river dumps into the ocean, and the ocean was pushing the current up against us. Essentially we were swimming downstream, against the current. Like an oxymoron. To boot, the sun was on the horizon directly in front of us so sighting was very limited, at best. Luckily I wore my polarized goggles which cut the glare down a bit. I just kept swimming but wasn't sure if I was making progress. It felt as though I was swimming and not getting anywhere.
When I made it to the first green buoy I was relieved to know that I was actually making progress. There was a bridge up ahead and since I couldn't see much because of the sun I decided to aim for the bridge. Oh look, another green buoy! I just kept swimming. There were swimmers all around me but I realized everyone wanted their own space. Eventually I made it to green buoy #3, and I just kept swimming. I saw a man taking a break for a moment and some lifeguards in a rowing boat off to the side. What I thought about during the swim? I still don't remember.
I passed green buoy #4, and just kept swimming. "Aim for the bridge and look for the yellow buoy". Finally, there it was in all it's glory! Shining at me like a beacon in the sunlight. The yellow turn buoy where you begin your swim back towards shore. I was so happy at this point, that I kicked it into a higher gear (for me). I swung those arms and kicked those legs and just kept going until I reached the shore. When the water was about calf high I stood up and began running out of the river. As I ran towards the finish line, another woman started running as well. We both sprinted to the finish line together. My finish time was 46:09.
I received my beautiful finishers medal and felt elated at how well I had done considering everything I was up against. Wind, cold weather, cold water, I'm a head case, mass swim start, choppy water, waves, flailing arms, flailing legs, people needing lifeguards, nasty current, and water that was black as ink at times. In fact, our faces were covered with a black soot when we got out. What did we swim in? I have NO idea, nor do I want to know. Its too late now.
CLOSING THOUGHTS
With everything that I went through, I cannot wait to do this race again!!! Yes, it was that great! I'm still in a state of disbelief that I (ME) conquered this. Will I do the 2.4 mile swim next year? I doubt it, but hey who knows. Obviously a lot can happen between now and then. I think about all of the things that have happened between last year and this year. But you know what? I'll worry about it when the time comes...next year.
Well, another Brooklyn Half goes down in the history books. Just like last year, I still love this race. But just like last year, the logistics of it still suck! The whole packet pickup for this race is a real downer. But anyway here goes:
Packet Pickup:
Packet Pickup was at Pier 2 in Brooklyn. Same place as last year, only this year it wasn't raining outside, so that was one positive. The traffic to get there? Just as awful as last year! Between the construction in Staten Island and the never ending bumper to bumper traffic in Brooklyn, it's enough to give you heart failure.
This year we found a parking garage about 1/2 mile away from the pier and walked over to the expo. The expo was small and included New Balance and other small vendors. Our race shirts were really nice this year. Black tech shirts with the Brooklyn Half logo. Since there wasn't much happening at the expo, we got our gear and made our way back to the car. Before leaving Brooklyn, Tom found a subway station and pre-purchased metro cards for Saturdays race.
Race Day:
Since my brother and niece were also running the Brooklyn Half, Tom and I had to leave New Jersey extra early to meet them in Staten Island. We woke up at 2:45 am and were out of the house by 3:40. We arrived at my brothers house by 4:30 am and were on our way to Coney Island by 4:50. The first wave of runners was scheduled to start at 7:00 am and the second wave was scheduled to start at 7:45 am. With over 26,000 runners, the parking lot fills up really fast so we wanted to be there as early as possible.
We parked the car at the Coney Island Aquarium and walked across the street to catch the Q train to Prospect Park. The subway arrived within 10 minutes and a huge group of runners got on board. We exited at the Prospect Park platform and made our way to the corrals which were set up near the Brooklyn Museum. Tom and I were in the first start wave but we decided to drop back to the first corral (corral 20) in wave 2. Once again NYRR had a million porta potties at the start line and I heard people commenting how great it is that they had that many toilets. The weather was cloudy and humid with some darker clouds on the horizon. It was difficult to tell whether or not it was going to rain on us. It felt like a 50/50 shot at that point.
We watched the first wave of runners take off and it was about 25 minutes before all of the runners cleared out. The race officials moved wave 2 up to the starting line, but we still had to wait another 20 minutes before it was our turn to go. At 7:45, the horn blew and we were off and running.
Running The Brooklyn Half:
We made our way down Washington Avenue to head towards Grand Army Plaza. I didn't notice this last year but the road heading towards the plaza has a slight upward grade and my legs felt it this year. I looked down at my watch and noticed I was running a 7:04 pace. Needless to say, I threw the brakes on immediately. We looped the statue at Grand Army Plaza and headed towards Prospect Park.
This year running through Prospect Park didn't feel as long or as hard as it did last year. I don't know why, but Prospect Park felt a bit shorter and easier to me. Trust me this is all in my head because the course was exactly the same this year as it was last year. Prospect Park is a bit hilly and you meet the longest climb at mile 5. I remembered this hill from last year and knew that I just needed to make it over the hill before my race could really begin. And then I felt a few rain drops. It felt really cool and refreshing at first, but the rain started picking up. Suddenly it was pouring on us. I noticed my body temperature cool down immediately and I decided to see if I could push myself a bit harder to take advantage of the cooling rain.
After exiting Prospect Park we headed towards Ocean Parkway. I tried to avoid the biggest puddles, but that was impossible. It just was what it was. Once I was on Ocean Parkway the rain stopped and I felt as though I was in a groove with my pace. The skies were cloudy but I'm not complaining because there's very little shade along Ocean Parkway. And sunshine is my kryptonite. NYRR set up water and Gatorade stations at every mile marker along Ocean Parkway. As always the volunteers were spectacular! Another reason why I love running this race.
There were a couple of minor grades on Ocean Parkway, but for the most part it's a straight shot to the Coney Island Boardwalk and the finish line. "Here come all the sexy runners", "Are you walking? There's no walking on MY corner", "Hurry up, Nathans is almost out of hot dogs". The comments and signs along the way made me laugh.
Every time I looked down at my watch, I noticed my pace was in the 7:43 to 7:45 range. I kept pushing myself the best that I could to hold that pace. One woman said "that's it, just keep running that nice easy pace". I wanted to strangle her because it did not feel like a nice easy pace!
I got to the end of Ocean Parkway and followed the runners towards the Coney Island Cyclone where you hang a left and take the ramp onto the boardwalk. There were tons of people cheering, but I sort of drowned them out. I had that feeling that I just needed this race to be over with. I ran up the ramp towards the boardwalk and noticed it was slippery from the sand and rain. I got onto the boardwalk and saw the finish line not too far away. I did the best that I could and hurled myself across the finish line. I didn't feel too well. I looked at my watch and noticed that I was a minute and half slower than my Staten Island Half time. I know I sound like a big baby right now but I was bit annoyed with my finish time. Somehow I really thought I would PR, so I was disappointed in myself. Hey at least I care about my time.
Tom wasn't too far behind me. We grabbed an apple and pretzels and followed the runners into the parking lot to wait for my brother and niece. There are SO MANY people at this event and we really should have agreed on a meeting place beforehand. I think the gear pickup area would have been a good idea.
After Party and Getting the Hell Out:
The stadium is set up for 2 things; a family meeting place and after party. They put letters along the top of the stadium so that you could meet your family and/or friends in specific letter zones. But I'll tell you what. It was absolute mayhem in there. I felt this overwhelming need to get out of there because it was too crowded and people were aimlessly wandering everywhere. You could purchase beer, food, pretzels, popcorn and other items, as long as you were willing to wait on very long lines. Local bands were there to entertain everyone.
By the time we found my brother waiting for us outside of the stadium, the lot was nearly empty. We walked back to the car, which isn't the shortest of walks (especially after running 13.1 miles with soaking wet socks and sneakers). Our feet were cold and wet and I could feel a blister or two getting ready to take shape.
We got back to the car and saw that the race was nearly over. There were only a handful of runners on the road. They finally opened the parking lot and allowed us to leave but that was a nightmare because everyone was racing to get out of the parking lot.
Anyway, I know I sound a bit negative about the Brooklyn Half and I don't mean to. I'm just giving you fair warning. If you take public transportation you'll more than likely avoid a lot of traffic issues. But if you drive and park your car at the aquarium, forget about getting out of there quickly. The smart people probably take the train.
My closing thought is this: if you can avoid get stressed over the logistics of packet pickup and if you can enjoy the race and not get worked up over the endless slow moving traffic afterwards, the Brooklyn Half is one of THE BEST half marathons out there. I promise you that! So rock on Brooklyn. I'll probably be an idiot and see you again next year ;)
Yesterday I had my first open water swim of the 2015 triathlon season. I went back to Lake Ockanickon in Medford NJ. From my home it takes me approximately 1 hr and 15 minutes to get there and I wanted to go by myself because I wasn't sure if I was going to go into panic attack mode again this year.
Well I did go into panic attack mode...sort of. It started in the car as I drove to the lake. I tried pinpointing what my fear was and I realized something stupid. I was having a panic attack over the mere thought of having a panic attack. It's like a dream within a dream (one of my favorite Edgar Allen Poe poems btw). I didn't want to go through that horrible feeling again this year.
A PEP TALK FROM COACH JASON:
ETA coach Jason was there on the dock when I arrived. I told him about my panic attacks every time I swim in open water and that I couldn't do one open water swim last year without having to flip onto my back. His advice? If I had a panic attack today, just accept it and flip onto my back. Since the course was set up as a big triangle this year (last year it was a straight shot out and back), he told me not to swim the entire course. Just go to the first buoy and back again until I got comfortable. I threw a bit of a protest because I knew I could swim the course, I just didn't understand why this happened to me. "Because we're land creatures and this feels foreign and weird to us". I told him I hated people who learned to swim as kids because they had no understanding of what it felt like. He told me he didn't learn to swim until adulthood and he could relate to my frustration. AKA, quit your bitching and swim.
A MAJOR BREAKTHROUGH AND UNDERSTANDING WHAT CAUSES MY PANIC ATTACKS:
I got my wetsuit on and headed towards the water. I knew it was going to be double the suck because the water was very cold (58-59 degrees). I swam towards the sand bank (which is where the swim course begins) and tried putting my face into the water. Holy mama it was REALLY COLD AND REALLY DARK. No, no, no, I am not going there. The fact that I was wearing brand new, heavily tinted goggles didn't help at all. Way to go rocket scientist! The water depth at the sand bank is shallow so I stood up and looked out at the first buoy. "It's even colder out there" a young guy said. I wanted to bail on the entire swim and go home, but I didn't drive that far to give up.
And then I went for it! I put my face into the water and began swimming towards the first buoy. That's when I discovered one of my biggest issues! I couldn't blow any air out of my lungs and this immediately threw me into complete panic attack.
SO WHY IS BLOWING AIR OUT OF YOU LUNGS THAT IMPORTANT?
Here is a summary of what would happen to me: My heart rate would spike significantly before I even entered the water and a high heart rate instantly causes breathing issues, even if you're standing still. Then I would get into the water and my heart rate would spike again from sensory overload of everything happening at once around me. I truly believe these quick and constant heart rate spikes are what causes people to have a heart attack during the swim portion of a triathlon. They probably have an underlying heart condition that they are unaware of and the constant spiking of the heart rate triggers the heart attack.
So there I am in the water with a super high heart rate and I haven't even started swimming yet. I put my face down to swim and I do THE WORST THING POSSIBLE...I hold my breath!!! A super high heart rate AND holding your breath is a really bad combination! But I don't hold my breath on purpose. It happens because my heart rate and sensory issues are in complete overload and that overload causes me to hold my breath. But now I've identified the problem.
HOW I OVERCAME AND SWAM WITHOUT HAVING A PANICK ATTACK...FINALLY!
I decided to head towards the first buoy to see if I could overcome panic mode. I put my face in the water and barely blew any air out. I turned to take air in, but I couldn't breathe because my lungs were still filled. Instead of stopping and flipping on to my back as I would do the past, I immediately put my face back in the water and continued swimming. On my second attempt, I blew a little bit of air out and got a little bit of air in. I immediately put my face back in for round three. Round three I blew a bit more air out and was able to get a bit more air in, but not enough. I went for the fourth round. On the fourth attempt I finally blew a lot of air out and was able to get a decent amount of fresh air back into my lungs. When I was able to blow a lot of air out, I felt my body instantly relax. So there it was...4 attempts to blow air out and get fresh air in. I didn't worry about technique at that moment. In fact I thought "swim shitty, swim slowly". I just wanted to swim slowly and get my heart rate down and my breathing under control. I learned that the first several strokes (probably the first 25 yards) are the hardest but you have to stick with it. If you bail out too soon and flip on to your back after one or two attempts to get air, you start the process all over again.
And that was my biggest problem last year. I would only give myself 2 attempts to get air before I flipped onto my back. This year I decided I would give myself 6 attempts in a row. If I didn't get air by the 6th attempt, then would I allow myself to flip onto my back. But that never happened. It took me 4 attempts to get everything to click into place.
By the time I made it to the first buoy my heart rate was close to being normal and I felt as though I had a good breathing pattern. The longer I swam, the better everything got. I was able to complete 3 laps of the entire course without ever having to flip on to my back. And let me tell you that was a great confidence booster! I was freezing cold by the time I got out of the lake and my fingers and toes were numb, but I was elated at my progress.
Did I still feel a bit freaked out with my face in the dark water? Yes, but only for the first 50 yards or so. Am I saying that I'm 100% over my fear? Absolutely no. But I do feel better having some understanding of what's happening to me physically when I swim in open water. I know I have to focus on 3 key things: blowing air out to get fresh air in, establishing a good breathing pattern and swimming slowly early on to get my heart rate down. Plus I can't bail out if I'm unable to get air on the first or second attempt, I have to give it several attempts in a row. I also found that early on in the swim, I purposely over-rotated, just to give myself an extra second or two of having my face out of the water. Once I was comfortable, I tried not to over-rotate because it only slows you down.
So there you have it. Try focusing on those 3 critical components and don't bail out too soon. If it helps, have a friend swim next to you just so know someone is close by and watching. Hopefully you too will slay the open water swim dragon. Once you understand how mental fear affects you physically, it gets easier. I swear it does.
Since we had a few hours to kill, we walked around the expo and I bought myself a swanky looking NYC Tri-Kit. Can't wait to wear it :) After that, my niece (the runner) took the subway home while my brother and I went to the Hard Rock Café in Times Square for lunch. Transition opened at 2:00 pm sharp. He racked his bike and we both headed home.
I prepared all of my gear the night before and hit the sack early. I got up at 2:30 am and left my house by 3:00 pm. It sucked hard knowing that Tom couldn't be there. I had been looking forward to doing this race with him, so leaving him at home felt horrible. I arrived in Manhattan at 4:10 and my brother and I found street parking not far from the transition area.
The transition area looked amazing and was buzzing with nervous yet anxious triathletes. The relay teams had a special area designated just for them. Everyone got their own personal racking area and each one had a motivational saying. This was ours: THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE TRANSITION...
I got to the swim start with a lot of time to spare. I had my wetsuit, goggles, swim cap and ear plugs in hand. I had a cheap pair of flip flops that I threw away when I got to the swim start. The water temp was 73.9 degrees, so it was wetsuit legal.
