USAT Collegiate Nationals: A Waveful of Emotions

USAT Collegiate Nationals has always been a big race for me every year.  This year would be my last chance to represent The University of Iowa and I knew it was going to be an emotional day. I wanted to leave everything on the course and have no regrets for my last collegiate race. Of all of the times I went to collegiate nationals, this was the least optimal conditions heading to the race for me.  Obstacles kept coming up along the way but I reminded myself of how I always try to tell other people to not dwell on things that they cannot change but instead do the best with what they have.  I wanted that to be the message I sent from my race and it turned out to be a very difficult battle from the start.

The emotions hit real quick race morning.  Walking into transition I about started crying but had to stop myself.  I keep forgetting how good I've gotten at setting up my transition spot and was done within 20 minutes of transition opening.  I spent the next hour or so saying hello to different racers and making sure I quadruple checked my spot. During the women’s race I kept a bottle with me and kept hydrating so as not to forget my own race coming.  I made sure to stay in the shade and head back soon enough to start getting ready for my race. Even listening to my music before the race started was difficult.

Going to be a crowded start.

Had only I known that just to my right was some clear water.

For the swim start I remembered the physicality of the wave from the year before. Once again, I started a little back and let the major kicking from the guys upfront carry me forward.  This year was just as physical for the first half.  I thought for sure that my trying to get into position was going to start a fight with somebody and kept waiting for the other swimmer’s to mistake one of my strokes as a punch. During the swim I kept thinking how I could hardly get my face in the water with all the battling crowd and my arms were getting tired quickly. For a moment I thought about taking it easy because there was too much effort for such a little gain. Finally I started getting aggressive when I saw a little opening and just immediately thought, “That is MY spot!” so I just dove into it.  On the way back I caught a nice straight line draft from another swimmer as we made our way directly for the last buoy while the others seemed to swim from each buoy to the next instead of taking the most direct route to the finish.

Exiting the swim and onto the faster parts.

Coming out of the water I couldn't get a handle on my wetsuit.  I got to my spot with my heart racing and wanting to tear off my wetsuit.  Turns out I actually tore off my road id wristband that I found many hours later.  I got my bike off the rack and moved up quickly for the bike.

Taking Kristine out to destroy the course.

Heart rate was so high I could hardly hold onto the bike.

Getting on the bike was the most exciting part of the day for me.  I didn't want to swim but I really wanted to bike.  I got into a good gear and made my moves.  Within a few miles I felt the soreness in my glutes and thought that my PR was done for.  Again, I had to give myself an attitude check and keep working past riders but took a corner a little fast and nearly ran myself off the road.  Looking back I saw a rider right behind me go down at the same corner so my adrenaline shot up so much that I ended up throwing up in my mouth quicker than I ever had on the bike.  My breathing was getting heavy and I thought this was a lost cause until I had my teammate, Kyle Siefers, in sight.  I passed him and he came right back past me ready to go.  

Riding with Kyle during lap one (with my support team in the background in tutus).

At this point I actually cracked a smile; I had a riding buddy for the bike.  Soon after a rider from Texas A&M came by us and I went with him.  Another rider from Arizona State came by us and I encouraged the A&M rider to pick up the pace and start working a few bike lengths back from the ASU rider but he was quickly dropped. I then got up passed the ASU rider and encouraged him and the two of us then took off on the bike.  We really took it to the group and pushed past anybody who tried to stay with us. During the whole bike I kept thinking that I had a great bike split but my run was going to suffer majorly.  With about three miles left I passed Michael Tong from USC and got him to pick up the pace along with a Colorado rider and the four of us tore through the rest of the bike.  Coming in the second to last turn I came wide and really dug into the corner.  Turns out I dug a little too deep and my inside foot scraped the pavement. Luckily, I was able to stay upright and flew into transition.

Coming back on a mission on the bike.

In transition I started to get a little angry.  I've realized this past few months that I go a lot harder when I am ticked off.  My motivation for the race was to just race mad.  Within a few steps I knew I was in trouble for the run.  My legs were completely shot and I could hardly move. It was a tough pep talk but I told myself the legs would come and to get moving.

This portion of the race gets a little hazy from start to finish. As I came out of transition I tried to spit but it clung to the side of my cheek.  In any other race, at any other time, I would have wiped it off but at that moment I didn't care how I looked. All I wanted was to push myself as hard as I could.

Running with Karla's sign in the background. So supportive.

The first two miles of the run my cadence was good.  I was moving up and passing runners who I felt had a good pace already going.  Within about a mile though I noticed my quads cramping.  My sub 2:00:00 goal was not going to happen if this kept up so I really tried to walk on thin ice and not let the muscles go crazy. When I came to mile two my support team was there to encourage me.  I don’t remember all of what they said but I had told Karla the night before that I needed her to piss me off.  I knew she would be able to get me upset enough to tear into the last four miles so I made sure to tell her what to say. She didn't say it.  Instead as I ran past my mom I heard her yell something along the lines of, “I've been watching you do this for five years now. Kick it in. I’m right here with you!” Right when she mentioned the five years the emotions came, hard.  I was on the verge of tears for the next mile and it got extremely hard to breathe.  My legs were slowing and I just was losing it.  I thought about walking pretty hard but reminded myself that this was my last year here!  Sluggishly, I kept moving forward.

Looking stylish at mile two of the run. It only got worse from here.

As I came around the corner for the last bridge I was really dreading going uphill one more time.  I didn't think my legs could muster getting up and over this slight incline.  The pack I had passed was hot on my feet and I was worried they would catch me. Right as I took the corner I heard some guy yell from a truck, “Hawks suck!” Sadly, he didn't realize he just did exactly what I wanted somebody to do all day: piss me off.  I made an explicit remark to myself and stormed up the bridge.  It was the easiest portion of the entire run which right before I didn't even want to attempt.  For those last two miles I was determined to represent my school as best I could.  I knew there was a guy from Ohio State closing on me but refused to let him pass.  With a little over a mile left I really started to dig deep.  My breathing turned into a panting and I pushed myself to a new level.

For the last mile I completely lost care of everything. My appearance at this point was by far the worst I've looked in a race.  The spit on my face was now being accompanied by drool because I didn't even want to take the time to clear my mouth. My breathing was so heavy that the responses from the spectators was nearly comical looking back.  From afar they would see my kit and yell, “Go Hawkeyes!” but then as I got closer and they saw my expression and heard how much I was working it turned into more of a, “You can do it. Hold it together, man.” Regardless of how miserable I looked, I was moving faster than I had for the past five miles and all the years I've done this race before.

Coming near the finish I kicked it and tore down the chute.  Last year I slowed up before the finish since nobody was around me but I didn't want that to be the last thing I did in this race.  The spectators were all blurry at this point and I could only figure all the people wearing yellow were my teammates. I kept running hard and refused to stop until I fell into the arms of two volunteers who had to hold me up past the finish. For a brief moment before the finish I saw my time and realized that through all the rough patches of the day I still made my goal: I broke 2:00:00.

Done. Exhausted. Hot. Everything just came out.

The volunteers had to hold me for a while and dumped a bottle of water on my head. I wasn't sure if I could produce as fast of a race as I did last year but I did that and then some.  I actually was faster in every sport, even my run when I felt all was lost. Throughout the whole race I kept having to keep my head up and pushing harder and was able to get what I wanted out of the day.  My final time was 1:59:15; nearly four minutes faster than the year before. To finish my collegiate career with such a hard fought effort was a truly satisfying feeling.