Race Coverage
Resilience is a Choice...
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Wednesday, 09 April 2014 20:10
By Ruth Brennan Morrey
Following Panama 70.3 in February, Texas 70.3 was destined to be my second race of my second pro season. High hopes for a podium placing existed as recent performances and training data were telling me that I was pretty darn strong at this point in the early season. Over the past year, improvements in all three disciplines have changed my mental approach and confidence to racing. Entering and finishing a race being happy to have placed in the top 10 and admiring those who place ahead of me no longer exists. This season, I have arrived at a new level of endurance, strength, and drive. I have a heightened desire for ‘come from behind’ racing excellence by slamming it down on my dangerous run! Last weekend in Galveston, this hunger was palpable, however, I had no results to take home. I was disqualified after I had reached the finish line. ....
A pro triathlete simply has no excuse to make silly mistakes. The disqualification was certainly unintentional but certainly justified and left me feeling pitted and pierced. Now, I have a sore body, temporarily warped morale, and nothing tangible to show for an overall decent performance. My legitimate swim and bike splits are no longer even posted on the Ironman website. In the books, it is as though I was never there. Fortunately, as a low points/low prize race, it will not impact my season a great deal and there will be several opportunities to fight back with a vengeance! The DQ is more of a personal devastation than anything else. To my fortune, I have a phenomenal cheering squad who has rallied me to heightened spirits.
Truth Be Told: The Texas 70.3 DQ Details
1.2 mile SWIM:
The entire field woke up not knowing what the day would hold—anticipated thunderstorms and 17-20mph winds delivered a whole host of contingency plans for race officials. If the race changed to a duathlon, that was fine by me. If it stayed as a triathlon, that was fine by me—I was hungry and on fire for whatever the day would hold. The weather conditions were atypical for Galveston—even the locals were intimidated by the fierce forecast. To my surprise, upon arrival to the transition area race morning, it was apparent that we would be swimming, biking, and running despite rough conditions. Everyone knew the weather would expose weakness and inflate attrition. Looking out into Offatts Bayou at 5:30am, my eyes witnessed 2-3 feet of angry chop and high winds. Athletes would be heading 600 meters straight into a 16mph wind to start the friendly race. Unfortunately, if I were Superman, my Kryptonite would be rough choppy water—not in a fearful way, just in a weakness exposing sort of way. Lex Luther delivered!
The cannon fires, and the pro ladies are off. It seemed as though the whole group was barely progressing forward. High turnover, max effort, and slow numbering of six yellow buoys summarized the first 600m until a left turn shifted our navigation of the current. We were now fighting the current to stay in line with the next set of yellow buoys for the largest segment of the race (900m). Another left turn, and we had 400m with the waves shoving us toward the swim finish, finally to my liking. It was just one of those swims you have to endure if you would like to take your bike for a spin. A cluster of pink caps were long gone, another group was still in sight and 5-6 caps trailed me—always a positive swim position indicator for me. A 34:17 ‘Little Engine that Could’ swim split.
56 mile BIKE:
A mighty reward met us on the bike—a strong tailwind taking me, my bike, my new LG P-09 helmet, and my Hed sailing equipment (Jet 9 and disc FR wheel choices) on a 30mph thrill ride for 28 miles. It was like a carnival ride that was so exhilarating that it ticked away much too quickly. Taking in nutrition safely and keeping power up were the only challenges on the outbound. Then…a deep sadness set in at mile 28—turn around time. Athletes had to put up their best fight to stay upright on the way home. 2:17:20 bike split. 4th fastest, 5 minute PR.
13.1 mile RUN and The DQ:
The ride ended in a bumpy, awkward, and abandoned airfield. The last ½ mile of my ride is a time when I typically visualize a smooth transition and prepare for landing. Twisting my Garmin 910xt off of the handlebar clip and slapping it onto my wristband is among a short list of tasks. Instead, large cracks and uneven pavement on the airfield created the need to tightly grip the bars to make it safely to the dismount line. Further, I was also focused on three female pros I had finally closed in on and wanted to create a gap out of T2. With all the hustle, mistake #1 occurred: My Garmin was left on my bike and realized it immediately after I exited T2. Too late Ruther, plan B.
Both at the track and in races, I am usually keenly accurate about my run pacing, down to seconds, therefore, I wasn’t too worried about deserting my watch. Since I knew I needed a lightning run to catch the frontrunners, this knowledge became my new race data. Most definitely, I would have caught on much earlier that something was amiss when I passed mile markers and noted the timing incongruences if I had my watch. However, I didn't chop so much of the course that the mistake was blatantly obvious.
The actual DQ mistake occurred only .25 miles into the run at the very start of the 13.1 mile chase. No excuses now, but the run course was complicated and confusing. Even after the third lap, I was somewhat uncertain where to go at all times. Driving the full run course was virtually impossible because there were so many ins/outs/in-betweens—mostly on paths, behind buildings, not on real roads. I should have done what the pro briefing officials suggested and biked the course. Instead we drove a portion of the run course, and I studied the run course on the map until I thought I knew it.
At the start of the run, I knew the first turn around was coming up shortly. The course exited the transition area, then did a strange short loop I wasn’t anticipating. After the loop, we hit some pavement where we were met by a succession of 6 orange cones, then no more. This must be the turn around. No doubts, no hesitations. No one was in sight ahead of me as far as I could see (600m or so) to give me alternative visual cues. BUT, the six-cone sequence was not a turn around, it was a divider for the first out and back segment. This move curtailed ¾ of a mile, a critical timing mat, and led to my demise.
After I finished the first lap (4.3 miles), there were now age groupers in view running straight past the six lined up cones, and it was at this point when I started to have some question whether I had made a major mistake. If I stopped, and I was actually correct, then I would have lost significant time. During the intensity of the race, though, I just kept running, let it play out, and when Emma Kate Lidbury (2nd position) and Sarah Piampiano (3rd position) entered my vision, they now became my mission, and I forgot about everything else. I was able to take second 
position after a steady fight, but even after I finished the race, I wasn’t sure whether a transgression had been made. Shortly after the finish line, I was approached by the race officials with the 1:14 half marathon split time, 4-5 minutes faster than my self-predicted pace, and surrendered my anti-climatic 2nd place faux finish.
Another little bugger of a detail was the race official informed me that there was a volunteer who saw the mistake happen, but instead of correcting me right there and then, she reported it to officials. This kills me—not just the fact that she didn’t correct me, but that there was a viewer who thought I was intentionally taking a short cut. Character, integrity, fair play, and hard earned success are fundamental values I strive toward daily to teach my own three kids.
So what now?! Will RBM bounce back? Has she ever encountered such adversity and disappointment? Well, of course I have, even though this one has been a tough one to swallow. The psychologist in me has prescribed the same plan I often dish out to my own patients. I have allowed a finite number of days to deal with the disappointing event instead of pushing emotions aside and denying its impact. With contemplative prayer and my own choice to display resilience, I will be using the event as a fuel source for the next one. After all, resilience IS ultimately a choice. Next up: US Pro Championship on May 3rd---you better believe I will be ready and focused to do some damage!
Much appreciation for coach Dr. Phil Skiba of Physfarm LLC and sponsors/supporters: Hed Cycling, Louis Garneau, TerraLoco MN, Rochester Athletic Club, Swim Coach Tom Walsh, Rochester Cycling and Fitness, and Moyerland LLC! Such fabulous teammates!
Thanks for reading.
You can follow RBM’s 2014 season via Twitter using @Rbrennanmorrey
