The day started out with a clear sky - something we hadn't really seen since we arrived. A good sign? The forecast still called for 30% chance of rain and based on the previous few days, it seemed likely and so it was something to keep in mind. We got to the start with plenty of time to get things set up. Surprisingly, I wasn't really that nervous. I think at this point, I just wanted to get started. I hate waiting. There was also a slightly somber tone for me personally, which I had sort of prepared for. It's the 5th anniversary of my mom's death and I decided that it was in her memory that I was doing this. I wrote a little "in memory" inscription on my inner arm with the thought that it would be a reminder on the bike as I spend hours looking at my arms. Due to the cold, that turned out to be pointless. I was also slightly worried about my arm, which was still bothering me (I had hurt it throwing a stick for my dog. It was a large stick. A log one might say. I pulled something and I really didn't want to think about what I had done.) Regardless, I tried to pep myself up and get ready to enjoy the day that I've been preparing for. With the sun actually visible, by 7am it was starting to loo like might actually be a nice day. And so I smiled for the camera...
The Swim:
I ran into Kerrie at the entrance to the swim start and we headed out to the water to do a quick warm up. It was very quick. The water was cold and choppy, but bearable. 61 degress is what the lifeguard station had posted. I wanted to start off to the side (same approach as Florida) knowing that it probably wouldn't work out, but at least I wouldn't be in the middle. We were standing around yapping and I thought we had 5 minutes or so left. And the gun goes off. We looked at each other like "Oh s%@#" and headed back into the water with 2500 other people. My first thought in those 3 seconds or so was "Okay, maybe it's good to be in the front. I can just get ahead of everyone and not have to deal with pushing my way through.". What the hell was I thinking?!? Suddenly everyone was on top of each other and the swells were just getting bigger and bigger. I was trying to do breast stroke just to see and kept swallowing mouthfuls of water. The cold sunk in and I was having trouble breathing. There was nowhere to go. I've never really panicked in the water - I know how important it is to just stay calm. But let me tell you, I started to panic. I really thought I was going to die. I kept trying to calm myself down by taking deeper breaths, but this involved opening my mouth and more water just kept coming in. I was talking to someone a few days before who told me that sometimes you can see scuba divers underwater - they're there for our safety. However, I told myself that there's no way that they would even see me since there was so much chaos going on - they wouldn't see anything but lots of bubbles. Even if I had wanted to (and believe me, I wanted to) stop and get rescued, there was no way that I could because I was in ths midst of this mayhem. So I really had nowhere to go except with the flow. And then I got kicked in the jaw. I have a bad jaw to begin with - TMJ. With the added kick and cold water, it was starting to ache. I really thought it was going to lock up on me, so in addition to trying to breathe and swim and not drown, I also had to keep moving my jaw, which generally meant swallowing more water. Finally the madness slowed and I was able to get into somewhat of a rhythm. The swells were so bad at times that when I'd go and sight, all I could see in front of me was a wall of water. I got to the first turn and was prepared for the mass stop that happens. I tried to get more to the outside so I wouldn't be boxed in. It was then that I saw a silver wetsuit and decided that it was my friend Steve. I have no idea if it really was, but I needed something to focus on. And so I drafted for a while. The silver wetsuit makes it a lot easier. I eventually lost him, but found someone else and decided that this was what I needed to do to get throw the swim...just focus on someone else's feet. The first lap was over and Kerrie and I got out of the water at the same time. We looked at each other with a look that seemed to say "I'm not really sure how I survived that and now I have to do it again". The second lap was less crowded, but the swells had gotten bigger. There are parts of the swim that you can see the sand at the bottom. I would see this and feel the swells pulling me backwards and really thought that I was going to end up back on the beach. It really felt like I was making no forward progress. I was scared to turn around and check just in case it was true. The buoys weren't any help because I couldn't really see them over the swells. My arm was starting to hurt but I kept telling myself that it was almost over. Somehow I made it to the turns and let the swells carrying me back in this time. Thank god that was over. Aside: I talked to one of the photographers the day after the race. He had been up in the helicopter taking pictures of the swim. He said the chopper was all over the place because of the wind. He said he was actually scared. Now imagine being in the water...
I made my way up the hill to the wetsuit strippers. My big concern with having them help me was that my shorts were a little too big and the waist and they are definitely overzealous in getting wetsuits off so there was a small fear of losing my pants. Fortunately that didn't happen. I grabbed my bag and made my way into the tent to change. I had so much crap in the bag in case it was cold or raining. It didn't seem to bad but the forecast still called for a chance of rain in the afternoon - it was probably to have extra that I could take off if necessary. I had already decided on arm warmers. And the volunteer helping me (I'm extremely thankful for them, but...), but I had my arm warmers rolled up so that I could get them on my wet arms and not have to struggle. She pulled them out of the bag and shook them out for me. So much for that approach. I did finally manage to get them on. I also decided to go with the rain jacket. It was already windy, and even if it didn't rain, the wind was likely to remain as it had been since I arrived. A quick memory of last year's Harvest Moon popped into my head did the trick. And I was off...
The Bike...
I got on my bike and started on the long 112 mile trek. Around mile 4, just at the start of the first climb on the smaller loop, I went to shift and hear a twing and then nothing. I was still in the same gear. I went to shift again and my shifter didn't have quite the same tension on it and I was still in the same gear. I pulled over and saw that my rear derailleur cable had snapped, leaving me with 2 gears: big and bigger since I managed to get stuck in one of the smaller rings in the back. My first thought was that I could do this in a fixed gear. But who the hell was I kidding. I knew there was no way that I'd make it up the larger hills in a fixed big gear. Maybe if it were an easier gear, I might have a shot (but I would have been so totally wrong). I had just passed a run aid station that they were starting to set up. I asked the woman if she could find tech support for me. She called the run coordinator who was supposed to call tech support and send them over. Meanwhile, the woman trying to help me looks up the hill and sees another rider heading towards us carrying her bike. And she says that this person had to be worse off than me. She was right - the rider had lost her rear derailleur entirely - it just snapped off and was dangling from the chain. A station wagon pulls up. He happens to be sag, but we didn't want sag. He told us that someone called for sag. And we said that we'd at least like to try tech support first in the case that there was a chance we could keep going. So off he went saying that he'd call it in. Meanwhile, I was starting to get really cold. The aid station woman gave me a garbage bag to wear to try and keep me warm. After about 45 minutes, a big guy in all black with a big grey mustache on a motercycle rides up. This was tech support. Fortunately he knew what he was doing and had lots of extra cables. Another aid station worked tried to help out while we were waiting and had unwrapped my grip tape thinking he could fix the cable himself. I have electrical tape at the ends because the grip tape had started to unwind on its own last year. He was not very careful in unwrapping this part. Maybe he thought I'd get new tape? Anyhow, tech support gets the new cable on but because of the stretching that was going to happen had to leave me with friction shifting. I said that wouldn't be a problem - at least I'd have different gears. He started to wrap the grip tape back but the electrical tape had sort of lost its stickiness. He didn't have anything so I would have to make do with having to try and restick it (This turned out to be really annoying on the ride especially when I couldn't ride in aero and hold it in place. The wind was whipping and just kept trying to unravel it more and more and I kept rewrapping and trying to hold it in place. And I'm OCD enough that this sort of thing bothers me and I had to keep trying to make it stick.). So, now that I had lost about 50 minutes, I was finally off. But I think the break had gotten to me mentally. I was now closer to the back of the pack and there are a lot fewer people heading the same direction as me. We start to get into the hills and my shoulder started hurting as I was expecting it to do. When I did a test ride a few days prior, I discovered that standing and pulling on the handlebars to get up a hill was what hurt the most. And there's a lot of that when you get to the hills. I was also having a problem staying in any position for too long. It started straining my neck on my injury side (the injury was in my tricep/deltoid region, but I could feel it pull in the back of my shoulder as well as my neck, so there were a few problem spots). The hills just kept coming. It was getting harder and harder to get up them. In addition, my friction shifting was kind of erratic. It wasn't always the same distance between gears, or a shift wouldn't hold, and I was still having trouble getting into my easier gears. But I kept plugging along. At around mile 50, I see Adam on the other side of the road, well into his second lap at mile 75. I think this is where I started to really lose it. He was clearly in the middle of the pack - most people were heading in his direction and a lot fewer were heading in my direction. It meant that he'd be close to the finish when I finally hit mile 75. The winds started to pick up on the second loop. There weren't a whole lot of people around me - I really could only see one or two riders in front of me at any given time and no one was really passing me, so it definitely felt like I was all alone. As we entered the hills for the second and final time, the winds were getting stronger, with gusts of maybe 20-30 mph. I was all over the road. To make matters worse, they were like CO winds where you never seem to be able to get out of the headwind, no matter which direction you're heading. My arms was really starting to throb and I was clearly slowing down. I started cursing loudly each time I turned a corner into another hill and more headwind. I was starting to get really mad and there were a few times that I was seriously contemplating getting off of my bike and throwing it into the cow fields. I would try and tell myself that this should be fun and I should just try and enjoy myself. But it didn't work. I was alone, in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but steep hills surrounding me, very few people remaining to cheer or even direct traffic, and this endless cold wind. To top things off, it started to rain. So honestly, I really can't blame myself for getting mad. Though it was so tempting to stop, I kept going, mainly because I figured I'd have to wait 2 hours to get picked up by sag. I've already done an Ironman, so I didn't have anything to prove. But there was something deep down somewhere that just kept pushing me on even though I knew at this point there was a chance I might not make the bike cutoff. I honestly have no idea where this came from - it was almost like a little nagging feeling saying that I wasn't quite cold enough or wasn't quite furious enough so that I didn't have a good enough reason to quit. There was also a sign on one of the hills that reminded me that pain is temporary and quitting is forever. With about 10 miles to go, I knew I was heading back into town. The rain and wind were picking up and from nowhere I decided that I had to get off the bike soon. And from nowhere, I just took off. From nowhere I started passing people. These were my best miles on the bike but it was too late for me to enjoy it. My mission was getting back to transition, where I eventually arrived.
I was cold at this point and my hands were completely useless. I headed into the changing tent and was completely helpless. My fingers were so numb, that I couldn't grab onto things. I had lost the advantage of opposable thumbs and felt like I was pawing at things. I couldn't even get my shoes on. A volunteer (bless her heart) had to hold my shoe and guide my foot in and then straighten out the heel and tongue. I ripped my HR monitor off - I really didn't need to see more bad news and it wasn't like there was a risk of me accidentally running Z4. I kept my arm warmers and jacket on since it seemed like it was just getting colder. I threw on my water belt (well, the volunteer did most of the work) and I was off again...
The Run:
I really don't think I've ever been more happy to get off the bike. At this point, it almost didn't matter what happened on the run - at least I was off the damn bike. I was about a mile out when I saw Adam starting his second lap and knew that I had a long way to go. The first 8 or so miles went really well and I was just chugging along. But the rain picked up and I started getting colder and my arm started aching again from the pounding. I had to start walking intermittently to give my arm a break. I ran into the real Steve around mile 11 and he was almost done. His knee had started bothering him and he had been walking for a while. And so we walked together in the rain. I entertained him with all of my misfortunes. Since there were so many, it really made the time go by. I asked if he was going to run the finish and he said he was going to try. Before we parted (him to the finish, me to round 2), he handed me his foil blanket (they had started handing these out, but I couldn't seem to find one). So at least now I had something to put over my hands to try and warm them up. But I must have looked pretty bad and really cold because at mile 14, two volunteers jumped in front of me saying that they were going to help me fasten the foil blanket so that I'd be warmer. They fashioned the most beautiful F&GB dress I've ever seen (foil blanket and garbage bag). They turned the foil into a poncho and put that over me. Then they created another poncho from a garbage bag and put that over me. They strapped my race belt around my race and voila! The garbage bags were a light blue and someone translucent so the foil could shine through. The effects were really quite remarkable and I got several compliments on it. They saw me on the way back around and came to check on me again. I mentioned that I was still cold and they gave me more chicken broth. They had already given me some when they dressed me up, but I just tossed it. I didn't have the heart to tell them that I was a vegetarian. But here they were again, shoving some in my hand. I decided to give it a try because maybe it really would help. I took a sip. It was disgusting and I had to spit it out. So much for that...I guess I've been a vegetarian too long. I also must have looked like I was going to cry because they were very positive and kept telling me not to worry and that I was going to make it. So now it was up to the dress. The only problem with the dress was that I no longer had anything to cover my hands. I pulled my wet arm warmers down a bit and tried to use this, but I wouldn't say that it was completely successful. I got to special needs and they opened my bag for me. I told them that all I wanted was my gels but that they would have to get them for me since my hands were useless. They pulled out a long sleeve shirt and asked if I wanted it. I said that there was too much to take off. They said they'd help and it would probably be better if I had a dry shirt. So off went the race belt and then they tried to take the dress off as though it were one piece. The head holes were different sizes and something got stuck. So here I was standing with a bag and foil over my head and they were just struggling and not getting it unstuck. I was a little concerned about breathing at this point, but my hands were useless in helping them. But they finally got it off. We (they) took my wet jacket off but I wanted to keep the arm warmers on even though they were still wet. It was the only thing I had to keep my hands warm. So on went my dry shirt over wet clothes...I didn't see the point either but they were so nice. They got my dress back on and asked what else I needed. I took my water belt off - I wasn't using it and it just felt like it weighed a ton. I just wanted my gels and they asked where they should put them. I told them to put them under the leg of my shorts. They said "but won't it chaffe?". I told them even if it did, I wouldn't feel it since my legs were already numb. Lap 2 was now underway. I ran into Matt on the way out and told him that Adam was just a few miles behind me and that he'd be finishing soon and that they should just take him home since it was going to take me a while to get through the second lap. I also asked for real soup because nothing sounded warmer. Round 2 was a run walk combination. I'd set min goals for myself - run to the corner and then I could walk. Walk through the aid station and then I could run. I realized that despite the pain in my arm and shoulder, if I didn't do any running at all, it was going to take a really long time to finish. It had already been a really long day and the sooner it was over the better. And so I continued with my run walk combo. It was really empty on the roads. The aid stations were starting to shut down and most only had a skeleton crew remaining. Where there had once been large crowds, there was now only a few scattered people still cheering. But for those of us still on the road, there was an unbelievable level of determination and we just kept going. I had a few miles left when they started announcing the last runner to the aid stations. You know you're at the back of the pack when you've seen the last runner. I was determined to run across the finish line and started up running again with about 2 miles to go. Because of my dress material, I was easily heard. At once point, I was coming up on someone and he says "You're still running?" with total disbelief. I told him that I had to finish strong and passed him by. I started thinking that I should probably take off my dress but the thought of stopping seemed like a bad idea since it gets harder and harder to get started again. And so I decided that the dress was crossing the finish line with me. I might as well have one good thing coming out of the day. Similar to my last few miles on the bike, from nowhere, my normal running pace kicked in and I flew towards the finish. Similar to the bike, these were probably my best run miles. It wasn't quite the same atmosphere as Florida probably because it was so late, so I couldn't really get swept away by the crowds of cheering people. I was much more aware of things and actually saw Matt and my sister (one of Matt's first questions: what the hell are you wearing?). As I approached the finishing chute, tears came to my eyes but I forced them away. I had to focus because damn it, I was going to hear Mike Reilly call my name out this time around. Not that I hadn't earned it in Florida, but clearly there was something different about this race that made me feel like I deserved it so much more. This time was so much more than the long hours of physical and mental training. This was about not giving up. This was about of sheer will power and determination that were well beyond what I thought I was capable of. I am an Ironman.
Pictures to come shortly. I know everyone's dying to see the dress...
Also, in case you're wondering about the other woman that broke down with me...She ended up borrowing a bike and made it through one lap. She was then later seen in the transition area volunteering, so things didn't quite work out for her but she made the best of it. I found this out on the run as I started up a conversation with a woman who just so happened to have been friends with her. Small world.
