I've decided for the time being that I miss blogging. Writing my race report reminded me how helpful it was and how much I enjoyed it. Reading my old entries really brought the whole Ironman experience into perspective.
It's been three days since the Ironman. I haven't experienced my usual post race let down. I'm surprisingly calm and happy. I find myself a little more easy going at home and at work. It's a nice feeling. Mostly I just miss the people, not the race. I had such a good time that regular life seems ordinary.
Most people are amazed at the distance. Each of the three seems to overwhelm them. Putting them together makes it a mystery. It's hard to explain to people why you like endurance racing. Sometimes I can't even properly explain it. It's all about the suffering and getting through it and trusting yourself not to give up.
I pretty much destroyed my left pinkie toe during the race. I'm trying not to mess with it, trying to let it come back from "omg that's blister is gross" territory on its own. My scratches and bruises are fading. I'm still wearing my participant bracelet. Because I want to, that's why.
I'm still not very hungry, it's hard to explain. Maybe I actually met my caloric needs with nutrition and fueling beforehand. But not being hungry is putting a damper on food amnesty week for sure.
I have a lot of nothing planned for this week. Catching up at work, catching up at home. Maybe going to the gym for the elliptical or swimming. Eating what I feel like when I feel like. It's a nice kind of freedom. I have a lot of sitting and reading to do about training and races and putting together something for next year early enough.
Instead of just guessing what I want to do, I know what I want to do. I want to look at taking the steps to do what I want to do in triathlon instead of just hoping to get there along the way. I'm enjoying the clarity.
I'd really like to get some swimming lessons, because that's where I differ from some of the better athletes. That's where my time goes. I really want to work on my 5k speed again. I'd like to be able to run 10K below 7:00 min/mile. It's possible, I've run that fast before. I just need to be diligent and work on it.
I want to run a spring marathon. To keep in shape over the winter. To qualify for Boston. I find that improving my 5K time and marathon training actually pair well for me.
But for now I'm thinking about getting out on these cool weekends and enjoying some time on my bike until the winter comes and I'm banished to the Pain Cave on the computrainer. And the only thing I'm racing to is dinner.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Monday, October 31, 2011
Beach 2 Battleship 140.6
This is painfully long. Get a cookie and blankie.
Leading up to Beach to Battleship I had a two week taper in which, true to form, I felt like junk and felt injured most of the time. I was having tendonitis flare ups and both my hips were angry for most of my taper. Running and swimming wise I was a mess, the only place I really felt confident was on the bike. I cut my distance way back but kept up the intensity so I wouldn't feel too out of it for race day. The two weeks preceding the race I was really worried about being undertrained and not prepared for the race. I think it was more the "cumulative fatigue" I hear so much about during ironman training, but I did feel unfit.
The closer we got to North Carolina the less anxious I got. The more Tri NE folks that arrived down there, the less anxious I got. I would go for a little jog with the group, I'd feel better. I'd sit on the beach and everything was ok. It was like magic. Going down early was the best thing we did, the bunch of us kind of dispersed the anxiety a little bit.
Tuesday we planned to swim in the am, but the surf at Wrightsville Beach was pretty rough so we suited up in wetsuits and played in the surf. It was a blast until I got picked up by a wave and slammed into the ocean floor on my left hip (also known as my BAD hip). I kind of brushed it off and kept body surfing. One huge bruise later I added a notch to my injury count.
We did some tune up workouts the week before the race. Most of them felt pretty good. Shorter efforts around Wrightsville Beach. We were able to swim the channel with Taryn at about high tide time to get a sense for the current for the swim leg. We were all terrified of the water temp from previous race reports. Most of us had done some cold water prep in Georgiaville Pond (brrrr.) The water was calm (and WARM) and the current was incredible. Swim anxiety was soothed almost immediately. Not entirely, 2.4 is still huuuge for me.
All week we were fortunate to have sunny skies, gentle breezes and warm temperatures up until Thursday. Everyone had been following the ups and downs on the weather for almost two weeks and it seemed more down than up so we started getting anxious about the wind, the air temp… Packing transition bags and planning what were wearing was the topic of choice most of the day.
I actually had a pretty decent nutrition and hydration planned out for the race, I just needed to execute it. It was pretty simple. Drink as much fluid as I can tolerate in the cool air temps and eat what I had planned for breakfast and laid out on the bike and in special needs. I ate well most of the week before the race, maybe a little more than I intended, but it was nervous eating and it wouldn't matter anyways. I figured I would easily blast through 8000 calories just racing alone.
Thursday was packet pickup, some errands, and beach time. I worked on breathing a little life into my tan and relaxed on the beach with Jenn, Jill and Sean. I really needed some nice, quiet time and that was perfect. The whole house went on an easy group run before dinner and I felt pretty good. I joked that ironman training made me feel the fittest and fattest I had ever felt.
The day before the race was cool and gusty and was a good prep day for Saturday. Most of the group did some race gear testing on the bike and some of us ran a little bit. It was nice to get out into the headwind and feel the tailwind. We dropped off our meticulously packed bags and set up our bikes at T1. These point to point races are getting to be somewhat of a nightmare.
I ate something healthy, plain and light for dinner. I tried to get to bed early, but I couldn't sleep. That's pretty usual for me, so I didn't sweat it.
I woke up super early, got some coffee, ate some breakfast. The anxiety started to set in. Somehow in all the fun and race prep I lost a little sight of the distance and the more I thought about the cumulative effort, the more anxious I got. I tried to keep it light and stay in the moment. We set up in T1, got the trolley to the race start and sat in the cool air for about an hour. When the sun started to rise I dropped off my Pre/Post gear bag and managed to find a small group of the dispersed Tri NE folks to do a pre race group hug.
My second biggest fear about triathlon is swimming. Honestly I don't work on it because I really do hate it. My absolute worst fear, my most panic inducing moments are mass swim starts. I have a hard time observing, never mind being in the fray. This is the point where races always happen so fast… There's the national anthem, the cheering, the raising of hands for first timers… But it was go time and to finish an ironman you have to swim. So I got in the water without any kind of warm up. It was a little cooler than the other day as I waded in a let the faster swimmers go. I breaststroked out and tried to get my face in the water. It took my breath away and it took about a quarter mile to get my breathing under control and calm myself down to find a rhythm.
Then the goggle leaking started, I noticed that it was super foggy aside from my goggles and my swim started to fall apart. I struggled to find the amazing current, and instead ended up sighting most of the time off of whatever landmarks I could find. All the amazing landmarks Taryn had shown us a few days earlier were totally obscured by fog and the buoys were difficult to see through my goggles. I found myself rolled on my back trying to calm down and sighting about every half mile. I did hit some currents. Some good and some bad. I wouldn't dispute it was helpful. I am not a good swimmer by any means and my swim time reflects the current. But still… I would not describe that as an easy swim for me.
Aside from the leaky goggles, other swim highlights included getting bopped in the chest by a jellyfish (a big one), losing all sighting, sighting a moving buoy, getting stuck in and then getting out of my group "island of misfit" swimmers, talking to paddle board and kayak volunteers (no really, I'm fine, I'm just floating)… I came out of the water at 1:16 and there were only twenty bags or so left in transition. More misfit swimmers like me. ;) I tried not to let my placing defeat my excitement to be racing.
I decided to use the wetsuit strippers and brave the cold air temps in my swimsuit. Honestly I didn't even notice. Getting dressed in the tent wasn't necessarily something I'd like to reminisce about. It's hard to get lycra on damp skin and it was cold.
I got out on the bike and knew I had a lot of work to do to catch up from the swim and keep myself relevant in the race. I knew what I could do, what I planned to do and what was realistic. I felt the headwind from the first pedal stroke. I warmed up for about five miles as we twisted and turned getting out of Wrightsville Beach towards Wilmington. Once I got my legs back from the swim I got down in aero and started hammering into the headwind. I joked with Kevan a couple of days earlier about counting people I passed and I started to pass the time as I biked. I lost count.
Up until bike special needs at mile 50, it was pretty uneventful. It was painfully cold. It was damp and rainy in parts… I pretty much wanted to quit triathlon at mile 30. I couldn't feel my toes and I had to pull over at the first bike aid station to open my nutrition ahead of time because I couldn't use my fingers. I tried to not push to hard into the headwind, I passed people, I tried to bike as smart as I could manage while still feel like I was being competitive. I drank despite the cool temps. I ate what I packed. I caught up to Leslie and Matt (both are much better swimmers than me, so I knew I was catching up) and I started to calm down a little. At Special Needs I refilled my Speedfil with Gatorade and switched out my trash with my fresh nutrition.
I came up to the half/full split and seriously contemplated taking the half turn. But I took the full turn and braved the head and cross winds for another 20 miles. The Beach to Battleship bike course is actually kind of boring and it's mostly highway, so eventually I got to some farmland and had something to look at. My wrists hurt from clinging to my aero bars, my back and neck hurt from being so tense in the wind. I was starting to become really unhappy. I ate my honey waffle, enjoyed our brief bike sunshine and finally hit the tailwind.
I started to haul. In some of the flatter sections I hit 30+ mph. I passed even more people (some guy yelled at me, but turns out he was joking). I lost count past 75 people and I didn't count people stopped at aid stations or bike special needs. I was pretty happy with the ground I had made up on the bike. Once I hit 80 miles the bike became bearable and I was looking forward to running. I counted off the mile markers in fives. Jenn and Lily (the dog) drove by in the car and we chatted as I passed other cyclists.
I finally started to see Wilmington and made my way into the Battleship. I saw Luis and Jill heading out on the run. I knew I was doing better. I had spent the last five miles up on my bars trying to calm myself and get my heart rate down and pick up my cadence a little to get ready to run. They took my bike from me in T2 and handed me my transition bag. I didn't change much (just shoes and Fuel Belt) from my bike getup, but I was overjoyed to see Norine in the changing tent. I was excited to have somebody to run with. We found Dean outside, even better. We started running and I knew right away our paces were a little mismatched and I didn't want to mess up anyone's race plans, so I just ran how I felt.
I had no idea then that, really, the ironman distance race is all about the run.
I started out doing 8:30s, realized it hurt calmed down a little, ran closer to 9:00s. My first lap felt like forever. Sean passed by on his way to his second lap as I started, looking effortless. I finally saw Kevan, I was relieved, I got my high five and felt better that I knew he was doing well and not injured. Every time I saw someone from the club or I got a cheer I welled up a little and kept going. I was so excited to see everyone cheering on that first lap I managed to see everyone supporting us and it was awesome.
I started making deals with myself. Run one lap of the marathon and you can walk, I promise. Run one lap of the course and you can have some soda and candy… So I did. I picked up my feet and I moved. I took in all the awesome volunteers and spectators, I made sure I did my nutrition, drank water, did everything I planned. I took salt tabs because I knew it would be smart for me to do that, even though I don't usually. I saw teammates and I kept running. I made it back into the Battleship. I was tired of Gatorade so I ditched my Fuel Belt and my chocolate gel was helpful but I was verging on tummy trouble, so I put it in my special needs bag and switched it out with M&Ms. I headed out on the second lap.
The run course has two bridges. One steep. One not so steep, but it had terrible grating that hurt my feet to run over. Not to mention I could see the river below. It continued past the PPD building through a kind of barren area of highway and convention center. Then it passed through Downtown Wilmington that was lined with volunteers and spectators cheering you on. You ran up a short, steep hill as you ran through a residential section. You went through an industrial area then back into a tree lined park next to a lake with a bike path (my favorite part), you turned around. It was easier for me to break down the race into these smaller chunks in order to tackle the marathon.
The second lap things began to hurt. My knees, my right ankle, my feet. I slowed a little to a 10ish minute mile, but I was still running. I stopped a time or two to address some tummy trouble and walked an aid station, drank some coke, ate some "reward food". I started having trouble picking up my feet, I tripped downtown but recovered well. Embarrassed a little, sure, but I just stubbed my toe and kept moving. I decided to walk the steep uphill the second time so I wouldn't drive up my heart rate and lose my breath. I kept my running form and was doing well. I went into this zone of just moving and keeping aid stations as my goal. I got to the industrial part again and boom! I slipped and fell flat on the ground on a railroad track. Runners stopped and helped me up.
My knee is bleeding. I limped. I panicked. I walked/hobbled a little bit and started to hyperventilate. All I thought was I would have to walk the rest of the race. I would have to quit. Everyone was watching and I had set up these expectations for myself and I would fail. I walked and caught my breath and then it happened, I started to run again. I'm not sure how, but I didn't care. I kept passing teammates who were wrapping up, I was getting high fives, I was bolstered and really getting excited to finish. I definitely was somewhere in the high 10's for pace. I felt fast, though...
I saw Nick heading in at one of his last aid stations and all I could muster up was, "Triathlon is stupid and we're going to die." It was meant as a joke, but it made us laugh and it made the volunteers laugh and lifted my mood a little.
I hit the run turn around. I thanked almost every volunteer on the way back. I'd say "last time you'll see me, thank you!" and kept going. I had slowed a little more, but still running. I would pick up runners, I'd drop them, they'd drop me. I made a new friend every half or quarter mile. We'd learn about each other, we'd part in some way.
I hit mile 21 and it started to sink in. This is the farthest I've ever run. This is my first marathon. Three years ago a sprint triathlon was an all day affair. I did one and took a nap afterwards and called it a day. I really started to get a little emotional.
I ran into one of the last aid stations on the way in and found Matt running out on his second lap. I stopped for a second to take a salt tab. We talked for a minute and the only real relevant thing I could think to say was, "This is much harder than I thought it would be." We laughed, I tried to be encouraging and I kept going.
I started in to downtown and stopped to take some last minute ibuprofen for my ankle. I was about four miles away from the finish. I could see the Battleship, I could hear other people finishing. I started running and I found my finish buddy, Dave from Boston. We start talking, we do all the same kind of races, he lives in Lincoln, NH now so he does the Kanc and Echo Lake… It's all easy conversation. We don't notice that we ran through the lonely part of downtown. We look and it's only three miles left, I can run 5K in my sleep.
We start making plans. He wants to walk an aid station, I say that's fine. I drink some soda, eat a doughnut. We start to run again. We talk some more and originally we planned to walk the initial uphill of the smaller bridge, but we look down and we've already crossed it. We walked and talk the last uphill of the steep bridge and we can see the floodlights at the Battleship.
We have no idea what time it is. I just know it's dark and it's after seven. I had all these goal times out there. Publicly, I wanted to finish. Semi privately I wanted thirteen hours (twice my half iron time plus one hour). Privately I wanted sub 12:30. And we look at my running watch and guesstimate we're running a little behind and I decided I was ok with 12:45, it's my first after all. Finishing is the big prize.
Dave explains he'll get a little emotional at the end. And if I wanted to go ahead, it was ok. So we high fived and I took off. I was flying to the end. I saw the very last aid station before the Battleship and ran with someone else who seemed to be struggling into the finish. He thanked me for the push to get him going again and then let me go first into the finishing chute. I got lost, of course, but got right back on track. All I could hear was my hometown and then it was medal, emergency blanket, water, finisher's tee shirt and I saw Luis at the end.
I get my finish line hug from Luis who tells me Kevan's in the heating tent. Which sounds lovely! So I go in there, and I'm like a lost little puppy. I find Jill and plop down. I'm surprised I'm not crying, I always pictured myself doing that. I was probably too tired. We sit and do little race recaps. My running buddy Dave sees me in the tent not long after and we high five again. I thank him for the push and the company.
Kevan finally finds me and it's hug time. I waddle over to get some pizza. Others start finishing. Kevan takes me to get my gear bags so I could get some warm clothes on. It's like 48 degrees and I'm shivering under the emergency blanket. We're waiting around for people to finish and spend some time in the tent. I check race times, because I'm all about the numbers. I look for a while, Jill finds my name and there it is: 12:29! I estimated like 12:49, so I was elated. I look later and see I have the 15th fastest bike split of all the women. I'm amazed.
Everyone starts to congregate together. All I want is hugs and high fives… We head home to the beach house in Wrightsville Beach. I call my mom, I try not to cry, it worked. I Facebook that I'm finished… I'm too tired to eat, or have the beer I'd been planning for so long. I know something is wrong with my foot, but I decide to wait until I get home to look at it.
Most of us get changed and sit like little cold zombies on the couch. I totally feel better. I eat a cupcake and start to get drowsy.
All in all it was a great day. To be able to have the opportunity to race with so many of your friends and so many supporters in a place pretty far away from home was amazing. To be able to convince myself to keep going through this distance through so many obstacles just leaves me so proud of myself. To see everyone on our team finish so well and happy was inspiring and so fulfilling.
I keep saying that being apart of that ironman marathon shuffle was really awesome. To be inside it and be cheered on by other athletes and total strangers is something I will never forget.
Sure… The weather was not great for this race but it really was just part of the experience. To perceive this race as easy because of it's flatness, or current isn't really accurate. Every ironman is different.
You can't do it alone.
I'd really like to thank my mom and dad for watching Norah and Ben so often. My brother and soon to be sister in law for taking care of them when I needed early am workouts or long days.
Kevan was amazing. He kept up with the encouragement, he took care of me when I crashed, and he kept me accountable for my training plan. For pushing me to keep going on those long runs when it hurt.
All of my training partners in the club. Kevan, Nick, Luis, Norine, Bob, Sean, Jill, Jon, Dean, Matt, Leslie, Taryn, and everyone else we dragged along (ahem Chris S.) for these insane workouts. For the cold group swims. The windy, long bike rides… Who sat through the aches and complaints and the worry about this distance and who all shared in accomplishment of completing it. We have such a great club and such an amazing community of athletes and friends.
All of our spectators (especially April, Jenn, Nuris and Dianne). Everyone at work who listened to my one topic of conversation: my ironman. Anyone from home that followed me online. My bike (love, love, love my Kestrel) and Todd Kenyon at TTBikeFit for fitting me so well on said bike.
Now that it's done, I know I can do it again. I know I can be faster. I had a hard time this year working on my endurance and not my speed, I felt slow and it was hard for me not to be in the front of the pack. But in the end it was worth it. I pretty much reached the ultimate distance goal in this sport. Now it's just faster. There is nothing left to be anxious about. Maybe I'll do something a little easier next time, just a marathon or something.
I totally earned that sticker!
Leading up to Beach to Battleship I had a two week taper in which, true to form, I felt like junk and felt injured most of the time. I was having tendonitis flare ups and both my hips were angry for most of my taper. Running and swimming wise I was a mess, the only place I really felt confident was on the bike. I cut my distance way back but kept up the intensity so I wouldn't feel too out of it for race day. The two weeks preceding the race I was really worried about being undertrained and not prepared for the race. I think it was more the "cumulative fatigue" I hear so much about during ironman training, but I did feel unfit.
The closer we got to North Carolina the less anxious I got. The more Tri NE folks that arrived down there, the less anxious I got. I would go for a little jog with the group, I'd feel better. I'd sit on the beach and everything was ok. It was like magic. Going down early was the best thing we did, the bunch of us kind of dispersed the anxiety a little bit.
Tuesday we planned to swim in the am, but the surf at Wrightsville Beach was pretty rough so we suited up in wetsuits and played in the surf. It was a blast until I got picked up by a wave and slammed into the ocean floor on my left hip (also known as my BAD hip). I kind of brushed it off and kept body surfing. One huge bruise later I added a notch to my injury count.
We did some tune up workouts the week before the race. Most of them felt pretty good. Shorter efforts around Wrightsville Beach. We were able to swim the channel with Taryn at about high tide time to get a sense for the current for the swim leg. We were all terrified of the water temp from previous race reports. Most of us had done some cold water prep in Georgiaville Pond (brrrr.) The water was calm (and WARM) and the current was incredible. Swim anxiety was soothed almost immediately. Not entirely, 2.4 is still huuuge for me.
All week we were fortunate to have sunny skies, gentle breezes and warm temperatures up until Thursday. Everyone had been following the ups and downs on the weather for almost two weeks and it seemed more down than up so we started getting anxious about the wind, the air temp… Packing transition bags and planning what were wearing was the topic of choice most of the day.
I actually had a pretty decent nutrition and hydration planned out for the race, I just needed to execute it. It was pretty simple. Drink as much fluid as I can tolerate in the cool air temps and eat what I had planned for breakfast and laid out on the bike and in special needs. I ate well most of the week before the race, maybe a little more than I intended, but it was nervous eating and it wouldn't matter anyways. I figured I would easily blast through 8000 calories just racing alone.
Thursday was packet pickup, some errands, and beach time. I worked on breathing a little life into my tan and relaxed on the beach with Jenn, Jill and Sean. I really needed some nice, quiet time and that was perfect. The whole house went on an easy group run before dinner and I felt pretty good. I joked that ironman training made me feel the fittest and fattest I had ever felt.
The day before the race was cool and gusty and was a good prep day for Saturday. Most of the group did some race gear testing on the bike and some of us ran a little bit. It was nice to get out into the headwind and feel the tailwind. We dropped off our meticulously packed bags and set up our bikes at T1. These point to point races are getting to be somewhat of a nightmare.
I ate something healthy, plain and light for dinner. I tried to get to bed early, but I couldn't sleep. That's pretty usual for me, so I didn't sweat it.
I woke up super early, got some coffee, ate some breakfast. The anxiety started to set in. Somehow in all the fun and race prep I lost a little sight of the distance and the more I thought about the cumulative effort, the more anxious I got. I tried to keep it light and stay in the moment. We set up in T1, got the trolley to the race start and sat in the cool air for about an hour. When the sun started to rise I dropped off my Pre/Post gear bag and managed to find a small group of the dispersed Tri NE folks to do a pre race group hug.
My second biggest fear about triathlon is swimming. Honestly I don't work on it because I really do hate it. My absolute worst fear, my most panic inducing moments are mass swim starts. I have a hard time observing, never mind being in the fray. This is the point where races always happen so fast… There's the national anthem, the cheering, the raising of hands for first timers… But it was go time and to finish an ironman you have to swim. So I got in the water without any kind of warm up. It was a little cooler than the other day as I waded in a let the faster swimmers go. I breaststroked out and tried to get my face in the water. It took my breath away and it took about a quarter mile to get my breathing under control and calm myself down to find a rhythm.
Then the goggle leaking started, I noticed that it was super foggy aside from my goggles and my swim started to fall apart. I struggled to find the amazing current, and instead ended up sighting most of the time off of whatever landmarks I could find. All the amazing landmarks Taryn had shown us a few days earlier were totally obscured by fog and the buoys were difficult to see through my goggles. I found myself rolled on my back trying to calm down and sighting about every half mile. I did hit some currents. Some good and some bad. I wouldn't dispute it was helpful. I am not a good swimmer by any means and my swim time reflects the current. But still… I would not describe that as an easy swim for me.
Aside from the leaky goggles, other swim highlights included getting bopped in the chest by a jellyfish (a big one), losing all sighting, sighting a moving buoy, getting stuck in and then getting out of my group "island of misfit" swimmers, talking to paddle board and kayak volunteers (no really, I'm fine, I'm just floating)… I came out of the water at 1:16 and there were only twenty bags or so left in transition. More misfit swimmers like me. ;) I tried not to let my placing defeat my excitement to be racing.
I decided to use the wetsuit strippers and brave the cold air temps in my swimsuit. Honestly I didn't even notice. Getting dressed in the tent wasn't necessarily something I'd like to reminisce about. It's hard to get lycra on damp skin and it was cold.
I got out on the bike and knew I had a lot of work to do to catch up from the swim and keep myself relevant in the race. I knew what I could do, what I planned to do and what was realistic. I felt the headwind from the first pedal stroke. I warmed up for about five miles as we twisted and turned getting out of Wrightsville Beach towards Wilmington. Once I got my legs back from the swim I got down in aero and started hammering into the headwind. I joked with Kevan a couple of days earlier about counting people I passed and I started to pass the time as I biked. I lost count.
Up until bike special needs at mile 50, it was pretty uneventful. It was painfully cold. It was damp and rainy in parts… I pretty much wanted to quit triathlon at mile 30. I couldn't feel my toes and I had to pull over at the first bike aid station to open my nutrition ahead of time because I couldn't use my fingers. I tried to not push to hard into the headwind, I passed people, I tried to bike as smart as I could manage while still feel like I was being competitive. I drank despite the cool temps. I ate what I packed. I caught up to Leslie and Matt (both are much better swimmers than me, so I knew I was catching up) and I started to calm down a little. At Special Needs I refilled my Speedfil with Gatorade and switched out my trash with my fresh nutrition.
I came up to the half/full split and seriously contemplated taking the half turn. But I took the full turn and braved the head and cross winds for another 20 miles. The Beach to Battleship bike course is actually kind of boring and it's mostly highway, so eventually I got to some farmland and had something to look at. My wrists hurt from clinging to my aero bars, my back and neck hurt from being so tense in the wind. I was starting to become really unhappy. I ate my honey waffle, enjoyed our brief bike sunshine and finally hit the tailwind.
I started to haul. In some of the flatter sections I hit 30+ mph. I passed even more people (some guy yelled at me, but turns out he was joking). I lost count past 75 people and I didn't count people stopped at aid stations or bike special needs. I was pretty happy with the ground I had made up on the bike. Once I hit 80 miles the bike became bearable and I was looking forward to running. I counted off the mile markers in fives. Jenn and Lily (the dog) drove by in the car and we chatted as I passed other cyclists.
I finally started to see Wilmington and made my way into the Battleship. I saw Luis and Jill heading out on the run. I knew I was doing better. I had spent the last five miles up on my bars trying to calm myself and get my heart rate down and pick up my cadence a little to get ready to run. They took my bike from me in T2 and handed me my transition bag. I didn't change much (just shoes and Fuel Belt) from my bike getup, but I was overjoyed to see Norine in the changing tent. I was excited to have somebody to run with. We found Dean outside, even better. We started running and I knew right away our paces were a little mismatched and I didn't want to mess up anyone's race plans, so I just ran how I felt.
I had no idea then that, really, the ironman distance race is all about the run.
I started out doing 8:30s, realized it hurt calmed down a little, ran closer to 9:00s. My first lap felt like forever. Sean passed by on his way to his second lap as I started, looking effortless. I finally saw Kevan, I was relieved, I got my high five and felt better that I knew he was doing well and not injured. Every time I saw someone from the club or I got a cheer I welled up a little and kept going. I was so excited to see everyone cheering on that first lap I managed to see everyone supporting us and it was awesome.
I started making deals with myself. Run one lap of the marathon and you can walk, I promise. Run one lap of the course and you can have some soda and candy… So I did. I picked up my feet and I moved. I took in all the awesome volunteers and spectators, I made sure I did my nutrition, drank water, did everything I planned. I took salt tabs because I knew it would be smart for me to do that, even though I don't usually. I saw teammates and I kept running. I made it back into the Battleship. I was tired of Gatorade so I ditched my Fuel Belt and my chocolate gel was helpful but I was verging on tummy trouble, so I put it in my special needs bag and switched it out with M&Ms. I headed out on the second lap.
The run course has two bridges. One steep. One not so steep, but it had terrible grating that hurt my feet to run over. Not to mention I could see the river below. It continued past the PPD building through a kind of barren area of highway and convention center. Then it passed through Downtown Wilmington that was lined with volunteers and spectators cheering you on. You ran up a short, steep hill as you ran through a residential section. You went through an industrial area then back into a tree lined park next to a lake with a bike path (my favorite part), you turned around. It was easier for me to break down the race into these smaller chunks in order to tackle the marathon.
The second lap things began to hurt. My knees, my right ankle, my feet. I slowed a little to a 10ish minute mile, but I was still running. I stopped a time or two to address some tummy trouble and walked an aid station, drank some coke, ate some "reward food". I started having trouble picking up my feet, I tripped downtown but recovered well. Embarrassed a little, sure, but I just stubbed my toe and kept moving. I decided to walk the steep uphill the second time so I wouldn't drive up my heart rate and lose my breath. I kept my running form and was doing well. I went into this zone of just moving and keeping aid stations as my goal. I got to the industrial part again and boom! I slipped and fell flat on the ground on a railroad track. Runners stopped and helped me up.
My knee is bleeding. I limped. I panicked. I walked/hobbled a little bit and started to hyperventilate. All I thought was I would have to walk the rest of the race. I would have to quit. Everyone was watching and I had set up these expectations for myself and I would fail. I walked and caught my breath and then it happened, I started to run again. I'm not sure how, but I didn't care. I kept passing teammates who were wrapping up, I was getting high fives, I was bolstered and really getting excited to finish. I definitely was somewhere in the high 10's for pace. I felt fast, though...
I saw Nick heading in at one of his last aid stations and all I could muster up was, "Triathlon is stupid and we're going to die." It was meant as a joke, but it made us laugh and it made the volunteers laugh and lifted my mood a little.
I hit the run turn around. I thanked almost every volunteer on the way back. I'd say "last time you'll see me, thank you!" and kept going. I had slowed a little more, but still running. I would pick up runners, I'd drop them, they'd drop me. I made a new friend every half or quarter mile. We'd learn about each other, we'd part in some way.
I hit mile 21 and it started to sink in. This is the farthest I've ever run. This is my first marathon. Three years ago a sprint triathlon was an all day affair. I did one and took a nap afterwards and called it a day. I really started to get a little emotional.
I ran into one of the last aid stations on the way in and found Matt running out on his second lap. I stopped for a second to take a salt tab. We talked for a minute and the only real relevant thing I could think to say was, "This is much harder than I thought it would be." We laughed, I tried to be encouraging and I kept going.
I started in to downtown and stopped to take some last minute ibuprofen for my ankle. I was about four miles away from the finish. I could see the Battleship, I could hear other people finishing. I started running and I found my finish buddy, Dave from Boston. We start talking, we do all the same kind of races, he lives in Lincoln, NH now so he does the Kanc and Echo Lake… It's all easy conversation. We don't notice that we ran through the lonely part of downtown. We look and it's only three miles left, I can run 5K in my sleep.
We start making plans. He wants to walk an aid station, I say that's fine. I drink some soda, eat a doughnut. We start to run again. We talk some more and originally we planned to walk the initial uphill of the smaller bridge, but we look down and we've already crossed it. We walked and talk the last uphill of the steep bridge and we can see the floodlights at the Battleship.
We have no idea what time it is. I just know it's dark and it's after seven. I had all these goal times out there. Publicly, I wanted to finish. Semi privately I wanted thirteen hours (twice my half iron time plus one hour). Privately I wanted sub 12:30. And we look at my running watch and guesstimate we're running a little behind and I decided I was ok with 12:45, it's my first after all. Finishing is the big prize.
Dave explains he'll get a little emotional at the end. And if I wanted to go ahead, it was ok. So we high fived and I took off. I was flying to the end. I saw the very last aid station before the Battleship and ran with someone else who seemed to be struggling into the finish. He thanked me for the push to get him going again and then let me go first into the finishing chute. I got lost, of course, but got right back on track. All I could hear was my hometown and then it was medal, emergency blanket, water, finisher's tee shirt and I saw Luis at the end.
I get my finish line hug from Luis who tells me Kevan's in the heating tent. Which sounds lovely! So I go in there, and I'm like a lost little puppy. I find Jill and plop down. I'm surprised I'm not crying, I always pictured myself doing that. I was probably too tired. We sit and do little race recaps. My running buddy Dave sees me in the tent not long after and we high five again. I thank him for the push and the company.
Kevan finally finds me and it's hug time. I waddle over to get some pizza. Others start finishing. Kevan takes me to get my gear bags so I could get some warm clothes on. It's like 48 degrees and I'm shivering under the emergency blanket. We're waiting around for people to finish and spend some time in the tent. I check race times, because I'm all about the numbers. I look for a while, Jill finds my name and there it is: 12:29! I estimated like 12:49, so I was elated. I look later and see I have the 15th fastest bike split of all the women. I'm amazed.
Everyone starts to congregate together. All I want is hugs and high fives… We head home to the beach house in Wrightsville Beach. I call my mom, I try not to cry, it worked. I Facebook that I'm finished… I'm too tired to eat, or have the beer I'd been planning for so long. I know something is wrong with my foot, but I decide to wait until I get home to look at it.
Most of us get changed and sit like little cold zombies on the couch. I totally feel better. I eat a cupcake and start to get drowsy.
All in all it was a great day. To be able to have the opportunity to race with so many of your friends and so many supporters in a place pretty far away from home was amazing. To be able to convince myself to keep going through this distance through so many obstacles just leaves me so proud of myself. To see everyone on our team finish so well and happy was inspiring and so fulfilling.
I keep saying that being apart of that ironman marathon shuffle was really awesome. To be inside it and be cheered on by other athletes and total strangers is something I will never forget.
Sure… The weather was not great for this race but it really was just part of the experience. To perceive this race as easy because of it's flatness, or current isn't really accurate. Every ironman is different.
You can't do it alone.
I'd really like to thank my mom and dad for watching Norah and Ben so often. My brother and soon to be sister in law for taking care of them when I needed early am workouts or long days.
Kevan was amazing. He kept up with the encouragement, he took care of me when I crashed, and he kept me accountable for my training plan. For pushing me to keep going on those long runs when it hurt.
All of my training partners in the club. Kevan, Nick, Luis, Norine, Bob, Sean, Jill, Jon, Dean, Matt, Leslie, Taryn, and everyone else we dragged along (ahem Chris S.) for these insane workouts. For the cold group swims. The windy, long bike rides… Who sat through the aches and complaints and the worry about this distance and who all shared in accomplishment of completing it. We have such a great club and such an amazing community of athletes and friends.
All of our spectators (especially April, Jenn, Nuris and Dianne). Everyone at work who listened to my one topic of conversation: my ironman. Anyone from home that followed me online. My bike (love, love, love my Kestrel) and Todd Kenyon at TTBikeFit for fitting me so well on said bike.
Now that it's done, I know I can do it again. I know I can be faster. I had a hard time this year working on my endurance and not my speed, I felt slow and it was hard for me not to be in the front of the pack. But in the end it was worth it. I pretty much reached the ultimate distance goal in this sport. Now it's just faster. There is nothing left to be anxious about. Maybe I'll do something a little easier next time, just a marathon or something.
I totally earned that sticker!
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Oh dear.
I've neglected my blog.
In the nearly two years since I updated last I've had some big changes. Relationship stuff, triathlon stuff...
I've raced all sorts of races and had some great experiences. I parted ways with my husband but we're working on making the best possible relationship for our kids. I've found another relationship in the process. I've relocated. I've been officially injured, and now I'm pretty much fixed. I've gotten a lot stronger as an athlete, but especially pacing on the run and power on the bike. I placed in nearly every race I did last year.
I had big plans for this year, but had a hiccup with some injuries that required some serious physical therapy.
This weekend I'm racing Ironman Providence 70.3, my second half iron distance race. My first big race after my injury. It's also my first official WTC Ironman brand race. I'll be riding my beautiful Kestrel Airfoil tri bike (big step up from my old roadie Trek). The distances and circumstances may have changed but I'm still a glutton for punishment. Farther, faster... The usual.
My goals have changed slightly... A full ironman at the end of this year... Age Group Nationals next year. Kona eventually.
Race report and some catching up to do on Sunday, I'm sure.
In the nearly two years since I updated last I've had some big changes. Relationship stuff, triathlon stuff...
I've raced all sorts of races and had some great experiences. I parted ways with my husband but we're working on making the best possible relationship for our kids. I've found another relationship in the process. I've relocated. I've been officially injured, and now I'm pretty much fixed. I've gotten a lot stronger as an athlete, but especially pacing on the run and power on the bike. I placed in nearly every race I did last year.
I had big plans for this year, but had a hiccup with some injuries that required some serious physical therapy.
This weekend I'm racing Ironman Providence 70.3, my second half iron distance race. My first big race after my injury. It's also my first official WTC Ironman brand race. I'll be riding my beautiful Kestrel Airfoil tri bike (big step up from my old roadie Trek). The distances and circumstances may have changed but I'm still a glutton for punishment. Farther, faster... The usual.
My goals have changed slightly... A full ironman at the end of this year... Age Group Nationals next year. Kona eventually.
Race report and some catching up to do on Sunday, I'm sure.
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