IRONMAN Oceanside 70.3 was my 2018 season opener. And I guess my main takeaway is... There's nowhere to go but up.

One major setback at this race cost me significantly, but there were plenty of positive moments too, and at the end of the day, I don't have any tears to shed about finishing 17th versus ... I don't know, maybe 14th? We all got the same burrito at the finish line.

Oceanside brings out the top competition, in both the age group and the pro fields. The front of the women's race was exciting this year, with former Oceanside champions Heather Jackson and Holly Lawrence, Olympians Sarah True and Paula Findlay, QT2 superstar Jeanni Seymour fresh off a win at IRONMAN 70.3 South America in January, and Anne Haug (the eventual winner) fresh off a win at IRONMAN 70.3 Dubai in February.

The race was supposed to start on the beach this year, but our swim course got changed at the last minute due to the threat of "four foot waves" at the original swim start. Apologies to the surfers in my Ohana, but I have no idea what this means. Four feet of snow is big snow, so four feet of waves must be big waves.

I mean, I'm sure Eddie would go, but I'm just a triathete; shredding the gnar isn't part of my agenda.

So we were back to a harbor swim (like last year), much to my delight. The water was smooth and calm in the harbor, and 62 degrees is about perfect for a sleeveless wetsuit. It's chilly in the morning, but the sun comes up just in time so we're not swimming in the dark. I lucked out this year and found my peeps -- five of us formed a tight little pod and I enjoyed the twenty nine minutes of bubble massage to my face from the kick of our lead swimmer (However, I could've done without the gash on my hand from one of my fellow swim twins who forgot to trim her claws).

I had a massively clumsy T1 as my pre-chilled (and mysteriously bloody?) hands fumbled with my race belt. This is unique to Oceanside; the requirement that the race belt be worn during the bike, due to strict security within Camp Pendleton where the ride takes place.

I had conveniently forgotten how hilly Oceanside's bike course is, but I remembered the hundreds of age group men blowing past me last year. Coach Tim had me make a drinking game out of it: every time a dude passes, take a drink of Gatorade (in other words, pay attention to your own race and your own hydration, don't worry about the guys who aren't even your competition). Things were peaceful for the first five miles, but a short little out and back section gave me a good look at the swarm of black and blue headed my way. Every Man Jack, a men's elite age group team, was fast approaching (despite my eight minute head start) and I was about to get real hydrated...

This year the three major climbs were marked with a sign identifying the hill's nickname, followed by "Enjoy!" I remembered Hell Hill, the first and worst (Ahem. Best...) of them. It's a long, steep grind that lasts for close to forever. After I hit the third hill in the series, and I'd been passed by what seemed like at least eighty Every Man Jack machines, I thought to myself -- this course sure is hilly... Why does it only seem to go up? In reality, the route goes up 2300′ and it also comes down 2300′.

However, unbeknownst to me, I dislodged my rear wheel torquing my way up one of those climbs, which meant that my rear brake was keeping my wheel nice and warm for the entire back half of the course. I averaged 21 mph on the net uphill for the first 25 miles, and 18 mph on the net downhill for the last 25 miles. Race day isn't the ideal time for resistance training but luckily I was paying more attention to power output than actual speed, so I didn't take it personally. I went out there to work hard and race fast, and at least I successfully nailed one of those objectives.



T2 had a surprise waiting for me. Although I hadn't detected the slightest wind out there that day, one of my socks had migrated away from its home in my left running shoe, and I was momentarily faced with the choice of wasting time on a scavenger hunt for my missing sock donut, or just enduring what could end up being a rather bloody 13.1 miles. Luckily, I spotted the rolled sock a few doors down just as I was preparing to head out, and I wormed my way under the neighboring bikes to retrieve it.

It turned out to be worth it, because without the fear of blistering up my foot, I was free to enjoy the ocean views, the mild morning weather, my tired legs, and the incessant beeping of my watch for the next ninety minutes.

I've been training with Garmin's metronome function to help increase my leg turnover, but I usually mute the beeping unless I'm running alone. For some reason, I couldn't disable it this time (No one has ever accused me of being tech savvy), so I ticked my way around the whole course like Captain Hook's crocodile nemesis, which prevented me from sneaking up on anyone.

In the end, despite a few mishaps, a fun time was had by all.