Ok, so about a month before my race I was seriously starting to doubt whether I would make it to the starting line. I was tired, I was cranky, I was ALWAYS hungry, and I was exhausted. I really wanted to do nothing more than take the days off from work and have a stay-cation, but I'm also very glad that I actually did my race.
Here's the short version:
Swim: 1:22:09
This was 12 minutes shorter than what I planned and anticipated, but I also did not swim in a straight line, and I hated everything. My watch measured 2.74 miles of swimming instead of 2.4 like it was supposed to be. I came out of the water angry and mad as a hornet because people suck.
Bike: OUCH 7:12:04
I was shooting to average 17mph for the bike, but I wrecked at mile 40 and that seriously dampened my already cranky spirits. I was hitting 17mph perfectly, but after I crashed I dropped down significantly. :( Grouchy Midget
Run: Also, OUCH 5:53:24
I was banged, bruised, tired, and grumpy. At this point in the race I was already out there an hour longer than I intended, and I was very sore and everything stung. Grrr
Overall: 14:44:20, a 30 minute PR over Florida 2012 on a much hillier course and after wrecking, so not terrible.
Long version (get comfy):
We decided to drive all the way from Cincinnati to Madison in one day. There were three of us that could drive, and Miller's truck is huge and very comfy, so it worked out really well. It took about 8 or 9 hours to get there, so in reality it was a really good drive. We were entertained by each other, and we didn't really get stuck in any traffic, so we were always moving which made it nice.
Once we got checked into our hotel I quickly realized that getting ready for an Ironman with Miller was not going to be the vacation I envisioned. We immediately changed into workout clothes and went on a 45 minute run. It wasn't too bad, kind of humid and hot, but overall a decent run. I need to run with him more often though because his loping pace was a 7:45, and I didn't feel like I was pushing to keep up with him, which was a nice little confidence booster. On Friday we checked into the race, checked out the expo, and headed out for a 45 minute bike and a 30 minute run. At this point I realized I was going to need more workout clothes, but decided to just wear stinky clothes twice instead of buying new stuff. On Saturday we were able to check in our bikes and did a 30 minute OWS to get used to our suits and just get in the water. When we dropped off our bikes the mechanics told us to let air out of our tires because the heat and the asphalt where our bikes were was heating up and was already causing tires to blow at 11:00am, and it was only going to get worse as the day went on. So we almost emptied our tires so there would be more than enough room for them to expand, and just planned on getting a tire pump in the morning to fill everything up. Yeah, on the list of things we forgot, all 3 of us forgot to grab a pump. Oops. Oh well, there were plenty to go around on race morning, and triathletes are notoriously helpful, at least the ones I've dealt with have been.
Race day morning: Wake up around 5:00am, breakfast, wander over to the race time. We dropped off our special needs bags for the bike and run. I added a honey stick to each of my bags and sadly forgot about the on each of them during both the bike and run. Miller and I went into transition, set up the water bottles on our bikes, I needed to hurry up and find a bike pump, and the guy across from my bike had a pump. So I decided that being adorable would be the fastest and best way to borrow it, so I looked adorable and helpless and stole it. It worked, I win. After I was done in transition I migrated over to Miller and we couldn't get his powermeter to work, that stinks, but then we migrated for body marking, gave our clothes to Red, and threw on our suits and glide.
The swim: Grrrr!!! So I was really thinking that I would hit closer to 1:10 for a 2.4 mile swim, I was at 1:22, BUT my garmin was reading 2.74 mile swim. I lined up far right from the jump and buoys because I knew I would be heading in at an angle and didn't want to get hit and punched for the first quarter mile. Well I didn't get any of that right. I lined up in some open water, and after the first 30 seconds I started getting punched, kicked, bit, hit, smacked, and pulled under for the remainder of the swim. I have never been so annoyed for that long in a swim EVER. I was hit, and smacked, and pulled on for the entire hour and twenty-two minutes. I actually tried to swim as far right for as long as possible, I was almost swimming with the guards and boats because I was so wide, but as soon as I migrated inward I was being pummeled. I didn't realize how much I was adding to it until I got out. At that point I was mad as a wet hen because I was so sick of being hit, I looked at my watch and saw the 1:20 time, and I was just beyond angry with the whole thing. The volunteers were great at getting the wetsuit off in a hurry. The volunteer in the changing area was a little less than useful, but meh, what can you do. Afterwards I got my bike and headed out. My favorite part though was running up the helix with all of the people lining it. I was super unhappy, but it was really hard to be unhappy while running up around all of those people.
The bike: Ow. After I got out of transition we migrated to the bike. It was a little hard getting out into the main part of the bike because the first few miles were constant turning, a no passing zone, and really bumpy areas. I ejected my aero bottle within the first 5 miles. I immediately went back for it because I knew I needed it, and 5 miles in was way too early to lose it. If I was losing it 5 miles before the end of the bike and I had a good bike, then I may or may not go back for it. But 5 miles in for the bike, I needed it. There was a biker who had a bad accident 5 miles in, and he was being treated by the EMTs, in a neck brace, and his day was over. He was talking though and the volunteers were good at getting us around him safely. After that we were able to head into the main stretch where we would do the loop portion. I was feeling really good and hitting the times and speeds that I wanted. I wanted to hit 17mph as my average for the bike because that would have placed me at around 6.5 hour bike, and I knew the hills would play in my favor because I can climb well, and I was getting a lot better at the descents because they weren't nearly as technical as I had been told. Here comes mile 40ish and happiness came to an end. I had spent the last couple of hours talking myself into a good mood, then I went through an aid station and my good feeling was gone. I grabbed a bottle from a volunteer, did what I needed to with it, chucked it, then I think I hit something. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground sliding towards the curb on my side. I was fortunate to fall so quickly that I didn't know I was falling until I was down, which meant I didn't try to reach out and catch myself. Since I didn't try to catch myself I just ended up with A LOT of cuts/scrapes, and some pretty nice bruises. The bruise is pretty hard to see in the picture, but the cuts show through just fine. I ruined my favorite Betty Designs race kit because I put a giant hole in the hip when I fell.
I unclipped from the bike. Stood it up and tried to calm the woman down who was freaking out because she saw me crash. Her husband was far more useful and asked if I was ok, looked me over for a sec, held my bike while I checked it over really quickly, then I headed on my less-than-merry way. At this point I wasn't hurting too terribly because I was more in shock that I fell and that it didn't really hurt. I was very ok with it, but less than happy about getting on the bike for another 70+ miles. There was one kid who was cheering and went "yay! Go bikers! Goo!! Oh! Mom, look at her!", yep, that was my awesomely bloody leg. Ugh. I talked myself into going to at least the special needs and see how I felt. I got to the the "big" hills, was VERY unimpressed with the "Tour De France" style cheering on these hills, but they were still entertaining. I felt like there were at least 5 other hills that were harder than these 3, but it's all good. There was one Jamaican dude who was hilarious the first time through and called me the little engine that could, it made me chuckle and got me mentally over a hill. I came through special needs, swapped out my water bottles for fresh ones, and headed back out. It didn't really occur to me that Special needs would have been a good time to stop. I just kept thinking that I couldn't let Miller see me quit. So I carried on. We went through the second loop of the course, the Jamaican guy wasn't on the hill anymore which made me sad, then I migrated to the run.
When I came into transition one of the volunteers caught my bike and asked if I needed medical. I said no, and he asked if I was sure because I was bleeding. I told him that I was aware and that it happened a long time ago and everything was fine. Each person I came in contact with decided to remind me that I was banged up as if I wasn't aware already. I know I wrecked, I was there.
The run: Coming out of transition I seriously debated about even starting the run, but then I saw my watch said "Total time 8:44", I mentally went "Oh! I haven't been out here all day, I can still do this!" Yay!
I kept telling myself on the bike that I was looking forward to the run, because I can always run. That was my mini-mantra for a while, "I can always run". I got to the run and I reminded myself that I was looking forward to the run. I needed that reminder after the first 14 miles. When I came out of transition it was the first time that Red saw my battle wounds and he asked how I was doing. When I said I have been better he annoyingly responded with "but you're doing ok, so you can run, right?". Ugh. I wanted to slug him. A little bit later I ran into Miller, the run was a two loop course, I was starting loop 1 and he was about to the turn around to do loop 2. So for my entire first loop Miller was technically behind me and I kept waiting for him to pass me. As I passed each mile marker I made mental notes of things for the next loop. When there was a little hill I essentially gave myself permission to walk up the small hills, then I convinced myself to run down the hills even though it really hurt my leg to go downhill. Then I would do a lot of mental positive talk as I counted down the miles. I would hit mile 12 and go "good work! You're already to mile 12, let's at least run to 13", I would rinse and repeat this until about mile 17, then my body went "F you". Yep, I was done. I didn't want to run anymore. I was mentally and physically tired, I was hurting, I was kind of hungry, I was grumpy, and I wanted to be finished, and I didn't care if finished meant right there at mile 17 or if it meant crossing the actual finish line.
Thank God for Red. Madison has this awesome bike share program where you can essentially rent a bike and tool around town for as long as you want so long as you return the bike to a rack every 30 minutes. This is how Red was able to keep tabs on both me and Miller even though we were hours apart during the race. Miller did an awesome job and finished in 11:37, which was a 9 minute PR for him! He looked good when I saw him on the run, and it looks like he felt good too. Red gave Miller his phone back so he could talk to his wife and let her know how he was doing, while Red came around and found me. That's when he found out that I really wanted nothing to do with the race anymore and was taking a lot of convincing to keep going. I was hurting and I hated EVERYTHING. Not just a couple of things, I hated everything. Red then informed Miller that I was thinking about quitting and suddenly Red's phone was blowing up with texts from Miller and other friends of words of encouragement for me. I was being told I was loved, that I'm the strongest person they know (seriously wasn't feeling like it), that I'm stubborn and don't know how to quit (Kind of right because I was trying to figure out the logistics of if I just told a volunteer that I'm done and if they went and got someone, or what), and all other kinds of encouraging words. It helped more than I could explain. My friend, Ashley, wrote inspirational sayings on slips of paper for me to remember during the race. Those definitely came in handy. Finally, one foot in front of the other, I was able to finally finish that blasted race. When there was only about a mile left I was able to see Red again and I looked at him and went "I love you, but if you're here and I'm heading towards the finish, how will you see me finish?". He asked if I wanted him to hang out with me for the next half mile or so where he couldn't really go much farther, or if I wanted him to see me at the line. I said of course the line! So he took off sprinting, and I honestly thought for a second that I would beat him to the finish, but that was just me being delusional.
When I finally made the final turn towards the finish chute, which by the way, making the second loop go within 100 yds of the chute is just rude, I finally felt like I could actually run again. Before I was slogging away between walking 15-18 min/miles and a very lame attempt at a jog around 12-13 min/miles. I ran towards the music because that works as more motivation than any positive talk I could come up with, and suddenly I see some wack-a-doo frantically leaning over the barriers and waving his arms like a psycho. I started cracking up because it was Miller. I needed to smile as I crossed the finish line, and that's what did it! Yeah! I ended up finishing 14:44 on a very hilly course, ejecting my aero bottle twice (I did it again after special needs while hitting a big bump, ugh), and wrecking. But I did it. I went through Ironman Florida in 15:15 with no actual issues, so I know that if I hadn't screwed up with the bottles and had my mid race nap, that I would have gone so much faster!
Afterwards I went to the food for the athletes and thoroughly enjoyed stuffing my face with pizza. It wasn't even that good, but it tasted delicious at the time. Miller found me and was super energetic about me finishing...then he saw my awesome right side that was banged up. He immediately jumped all over taking care of me, getting me more food (yeah!), and grabbing my bike from transition when I was ready to head out. Red let me lean on him even though I was a sweaty, stinky, wet, and bloody mess. I have some pretty awesome friends/family! The volunteers were awesome and were more than ready to help me around the finish area. The two girls who were my catchers when I crossed the line actually picked me up on accident because they were taller than me. They asked how I was doing and I joked by telling them that I could walk better if I was touching the ground. They set me down and laughed. When I was ready to get out of the finish area (when I was stuffed :D and happy :D) another volunteer helped me out of my chair and accidentally grabbed my right arm to help me up. He felt so bad when he realized why I yelled out. I felt bad for making noise, but they were so awesome!
Now I'm sitting here talking with my buddy Cathy and she almost has me convinced to do another Ironman next year. I'm torn because training sucked this year, but part of me wants to know how I would do if I hadn't crashed, because I was feeling really good before then, and I was right on pace. So we'll see what this next year brings. Since races aren't selling out within minutes of registration opening, that gives me a little bit of time to think about it and recover. Right now I'm enjoying my off season and just lifting and running whenever I feel like it instead of having a schedule. Next up, Dopey Marathon weekend with Red and his family!
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