I was hoping that becoming an Ironman would expand my memory capacity and ability to recall even the most minute details about the race on Sunday…you know, things like at exactly which bike miles I peed myself, the dude’s number who drank a full beer on mile 24 of the run, and how many times I fully expected to be the subject of one of the embarrassing internet photos that gets you into a club that no one past the age of 3 wants to be a part of (no one said triathlon was a pretty sport!)…but that definitely hasn’t happened. Here’s the race according to G, which means much of it is true, some of it is exaggerated, and parts of it are totally made up (but usually for comic relief, which is a very valid reason to lie). You have been warned.
Ironman week started early for me. I left Seattle on Wednesday with a quick stop at Gerk’s to pick up my race wheels on the way. I’m not much of a research person, nor am I much of a mathlete; so, even if the most recent studies show that an aero helmet might make more of a difference than race wheels, I figured the wheels would make me look cool in pictures…and the super sperm helmet would not. It’s really all about the pictures (whoever designed tri-kits disagrees, but that’s another topic completely).
I got to Mark & T’s house just in time to interrupt their dinner and witness some good kid scolding. I really do think there has to be something so satisfying about ordering around little people. Connie was nice enough to volunteer to give me full reign to keep those angels in line, but I think I was too worried that all 90 pounds of her would actually kick my ass if I tried, so I just watched in awe as the Cunningham’s laid down the law. Lucky kids to have such studs for parents (even if I agree with the kids that horse play in the hot tub is totally acceptable behavior)!
After the tacos, T & I spent some time going through my race plan. I had crafted the perfect plan which involved a sub-hour swim; 2 minute transitions; 5:30 on the bike; and a sub-4 marathon. Basically, we both agreed that I was in the running for a Kona slot and that if I just fueled properly and cheated my ass off, I’d get it. I ended the evening by giving T some tips on swimming and teaching Mark how to change a flat on his bike and then went to bed early. The weather had a different plan though – thunder, lightning, and pouring rain made for a restless night. I may have been just a touch nervous about the race, but every time I thought about it, I would just try to convince myself that I was the best around and that nothing was gonna keep me down…and that if all went to shit, I could crash my bike into a ditch and get an honorable discharge from the race with hopefully minimal bodily harm.
I spent the day Thursday checking into our house, standing in line at registration, and watching cheap tv. Since I’ve cancelled my cable, I can now spend hours watching the worst of the worst. I’m still on pins and needles about the finale of My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding…and please, no one tell me if the Real Housewives of Orange County get more botox at the end of this season.
IronHank, IronNeen, and Darcy arrived late afternoon and we took a quick trip to Post Falls to pick up my bike. I’d left it there the night before hoping that some real triathlete mojo would rub off on it and make me faster on the bike leg. I think it may have actually worked! I did learn that even if you’re just taking your bike on a spin around the block to make sure the gears are working smoothly, you must completely kit up head to toe in TN gear. Thanks for that lesson, Mark!
Friday was spent packing, unpacking, repacking, making lists, checking them four hundred times, and doing other things that I can’t remember. I did take a little dip in the hot tub known as Lake Coeur d’Alene. It was fantastically refreshing. I met the rest of the team who’d arrived on Friday by the Lake and we all anxiously swam, chatted, and shivered. I met Kiet and a few other many-time Ironman racers…I wouldn’t say this added to my confidence level as most of them looked like they were wearing those t-shirts that have ridiculous muscles drawn on them. In this case, though, the muscles were real. Shit, what have I gotten myself into?!
Steph and Krista rolled into town after pulling an all nighter driving from Reno. At first I wondered if I’d told them that the race was on the wrong day, but in the end I realized that they were just scared to stop at Coffin Road in the middle of the night for a nap. They definitely win the prize for the furthest travel to cheer, as well as the prize for most vigorous cheerers. I expect a new company to be born based on the premise that people can hire Steph & Krista to cheer for them when their family can’t make it. I’m going to invest and think you should, too.
Saturday was the arrival of the parentals and the rest of the Spectathletes. Before everyone arrived, I drove the bike course. I had all of this anxious energy and needed some loud music, some fresh air, and some reaffirmation that the course wasn’t all hills. Two of the three of those things happened (the hills were sadly a reality). I also saw a few things that I considered to be good luck charms – two pairs of mama/baby deer crossing the road; a couple of gigantic turkeys; and a sign that said ‘Big Hill’ across the top, ‘Don’t Care’ across the bottom, and had a picture of a honey badger in the middle. If you’re familiar with the honey badger, you’ll be laughing as much as I was.
I talked to my brother, and as per the usual, his advice made me tear up and quickly change the subject so he wouldn’t know I was on the verge of crying. He said that I should live moment to moment, with the excitement of the end goal in mind…but never get past that next moment because I am capable of doing anything for a moment. He said it much more eloquently than I just did, but the message is still the same. He also affirmed that he and his family weren’t going to be able to make the drive to spectate, which was super disappointing to me. I tried not to pout and thanked him for the words of wisdom…and told him I’d update him with results when I was finished.
Mom and Dad got in early afternoon and we spent some quality time catching up. My mom was getting less and less convinced I was going to die by the hour, so I consider that a ‘win’. I also got an Ironman apron and a leash for IronDog from them as a gift, which was an awesome reality check that I was hopefully going to be an Ironman sometime very soon!
The Spectathletes (Julia, Jess, Tim, Lindy, IronDog) arrived after an interesting trek through EWa, wherein they saw a petrified forest, dinosaurs, and then finished the journey by making Julia ride the final four miles to the house on a bike. Totally normal behavior. The dudes drank whiskey; Hank, Neen and I ate pasta; and the house was cleared and we were in bed by 730ish PM.
The Day
IronDay dawned early. I had been practicing getting up at 4am because I knew sleep would be super important to my ability to complete the race. So I made some coffee, put on my race day outfit, and gathered my nutrition from the fridge for my bike and special needs bags. I ate some toast with honey and when I couldn’t get more than a piece down, I cracked back into the pasta and ate it straight from the bowl. Reckless.
I was 99% excited at that point, and only 1% nervous. I’d landed squarely on the denial step of the 12 steps and wasn’t to be moved. I had convinced myself that I was just out for a little swim/bike/run, and that it was not the biggest athletic feat of my entire life. I did something similar when I climbed Kilimanjaro…it was all about how many lies I could tell myself and actually convince myself to believe them. Ahhh, the glories of having a mind susceptible to suggestion.
Steph dropped us off a couple of blocks from the transition area, and we dropped bags, got body marked, and proceeded to pump up our bike tires. I couldn’t get air in my tires, so when the camera crew was finished with Hank (he was wearing a full-on Rocky robe like it was totally normal…which, actually, it is if you know him), he helped me inflate my tires. Damn you race wheels, you make me feel like I’ve never done basic bike maintenance before!
We still had about an hour before it was time to gear up, so we took a last pitstop at a hidden bathroom, and I lost the Lomasneys. I was headed to the morning clothes bag drop area, in progress with putting on my wetsuit, and had another good luck sign – a Rusted Root song came on the speakers that I used to listen to with my friends Cody & Luke in college. Luke passed away in his early 20s running the Chicago Marathon, and I always think of him when I do anything physically challenging. I took it as a sign that he was thinking of me that day when the song came on…and my nerves were miraculously totally gone. I felt ready. I felt strong. I felt totally unaware of what I was getting myself into.
I walked through the transition and ran into T, Mark, Jeff, Connie & the angels, Ann, and Erin. Great to see each of them before the swim start. Erin and I were actually able to start together after the gun – I knew I was in for a great day with all of the luck and supportive folks that were surrounding me!!
The Swim
Erin and I waded into the water and quickly lost each other. It was rough for about 5 minutes, but I modified my stroke so that I could protect my head (read, keep my goggles on) and so that I could actually get some movement quickly in the cold water. My mind was basically out to get me. The first 20 thoughts I had were about how I couldn’t do what the day was about to send my way…that I wasn’t a strong enough swimmer…that I hadn’t trained enough (which, actually, might have been true as I would have loved to have been more consistent on my training in the last couple of months). Again, I had to talk those voices down and replace them with the silly mantras I’d been practicing with for months. I started to focus on my breathing, to see how even and easy I could get it. I focused on counting my strokes and seeing how close I could stay to the dude off of whom I was drafting. I even focused on the way the water sounded as it sloshed around my head…anything to keep me in rhythm, on task, and positive.
I got to the first turn buoy and heard someone say “Why is it such a cluster-f@#$ around here?” Normally, I would respond something smart like – because you’ve stopped to have a conversation, dumbass…but instead I just did the sweet swimmer’s buoy turn where you alternate crawl/backstrokes until you’ve turned the corner. That got me through the hordes of folks amazingly well and I was pumped that at least 30 people saw how professional I looked doing it.
The rest of the first loop consisted of finding clear water and trying to avoid this guy swimming behind me that was trying to drown me. He kept holding on and pushing me down, so finally I kicked him in the face and he got the point. I got out of the water with absolutely no idea how I’d done and was immediately slammed in the face with an almost 45 minute swim. What the hell?!? I should have been at least 5-7 minutes faster than that! I ran back in all pissed off and in a tizzy and promptly got kicked in the eye and had to pop my head up because I was laughing so hard. I totally deserved that kick in the face, so I took it as a sign to settle down, decompose my swim, and see what I could do to improve. I realized after about 20 minutes of a mental checklist that my problem was my inability to keep my fingers together. They were frozen into jazz hands (fingers spread apart) and so my catch and pull were completely inefficient. I fist swam for about 20 strokes so I could clench/unclench my fingers, and then went back at it.
All in all, I had a craptastic swim, but I saw so many TN peeps and the Spectathles coming up out of the water that all was forgotten. After all, I was officially one-third Ironman.
Goal: 1:15
Actual: 1:29:28
The Bike
I had redemption on my mind for the bike portion of my IronJourney. My only other triathlon (Wildflower Half-Iron in Cali) was a huge hilly bitch, and my bike time showed that – I biked 56 miles in 3 hours 41 minutes. That’s a pace of ass-slow per mile, and I wanted to prove to myself that I hadn’t dropped almost three grand on a pretty looking triathlon bike for nothing.
So…I started passing people. I continued passing people. I kept passing people until Hayden Lake, when I realized that I had to pee. Before training with a whole bunch of bonafide rockstar Ironman triathletes, I’d always wondered what they did when they had to pee. I figured they’d get off the bike and try to make it to a port-o-potty…or at the very least, a bush. Not the case. The hard core triathletes like me who have done lots and lots of triathlons (also like me) just let it go on the bike. Find a hill, check to make sure no one’s behind you, get out of your saddle, and let it go. I found out (three times, actually) that it’s definitely not that easy. It took all of my concentration as a 31 year old to pee myself. I can tell you with pride that I did and would do it again in a second. It really allowed me to stay in rhythm, to keep my heart rate consistent (although my Garmin had long since given out on me as it said I was doing too many laps and had to delete data before continuing…bummer), and to keep my legs spinning. It also allowed me to stay comfortable on my saddle – which is REALLY hard to do after a hundred miles on a bike.
T always tells me that I should shoot for a negative split on my bike, but I really like to keep things positive, so I went with it. I did slow down on the second loop…but I really don’t think that it was because my legs gave out. I was tired, absolutely – but I also started puking at about mile 90, right before Laura Lee pulled up next to me to give me a red card for drafting off of the person 100 feet in front of me. She actually didn’t, but I really thought I was going to get into trouble for doing something stupid and rookie-like. She was just there to tell me I looked strong and give me support. Loved that and totally needed it.
Back to the puking…my nutrition seemed spot on all day long. I was taking a gu every 30 minutes, 16-24 oz of Perform plus sips of water every hour, and even a few of my treats, which were honey chews. I’d practiced with everything, and had never had gut trouble before…but I just couldn’t keep much down after mile 90. Another thing that’s possible to do while in aero? Vomit without hitting your bike. Again, I’m basically a professional.
The course support was awesome. So many TNM-ers out and about; the Spectathletes and my parents at every turn…and a really clutch placement on behalf of Josh Hadway way out in the middle of nowhere. So exciting to see him out there! I also passed (and by passed, I mean, they were way ahead of me) Mark, Jeff, and Travis…I saw Erin and Neen on the course…and I even passed (and by passed, I mean, caught up to and overtook) Hank. He passed me back about 2 minutes later and I was left saying ‘Where’d whoooooooooo gooooooooooooo’, but it was still a great confidence boost to know that I was staying strong on the bike. I ended the ride with a huge finish chute cheering section and left my shoes on my bike (pro status). I could barely walk when I dismounted, but it felt awesome to take some pressure off of my seat and stand up straight for the first time in 6 hours!
Goal: 6:30
Actual: 6:23:36, 17.52 MPH
The Shuffle
I knew I was in trouble within minutes of starting my run. My gut was a mess, I couldn’t stand up straight, and my right foot was completely asleep. I had to pull my shit together to pass the TN tent, and mumbled through a half-smile ‘Pukey, pukey!’ to T when she asked how I was doing. This 5 minute section of the run was the hardest 5 minutes of the entire day. In fact, it might have been the hardest 5 minutes I’ve had since I started training in late September. My goal was to run the first half of the marathon, and then walk as I needed to after that. I’m not a strong runner. If I was to skip a workout, it would almost always be a run. In general, I really hate running more than I hate bad drivers and people that leave only one square of toilet paper left on a roll. So naturally, I wasn’t looking forward to the run.
I was pleasantly surprised, though, that after about a mile of walking I was able to actually start to run. My pace was painfully slow (the Garmin was back and registering 11 minute miles), but I felt like I could run that fast (slowly) forever. I wasn’t winded, my legs didn’t hurt, and my foot had awakened. I kept up the run through the first 5-6 miles of the course, and kept getting in a little bit of nutrition at each passing aid station. I threw up one more time during those miles, but my stomach settled a little bit and I was able to keep nutrition in.
I did some math in my head (dangerous) and realized that I had a shot of going sub-14. Now, my initial goal was to finish the Ironman only. That’s what T had designed my training program to do. I set a stretch goal to beat 15 hours…and only when I started laying out my race plan did I realize that I could actually come in during the 13th hour if everything went impeccably. My day was far from perfect, but I still had sub-14 in mind.
That lasted for about another mile, and then the stomach cramps set in. I was no longer vomiting, but the gut issues were still there…and I made use of every port-o-potty from mile 7 on in the marathon. I was able to take nutrition in, and my legs felt great – but every time I’d start to run, I’d have to beeline it to the nearest port-o-potty. I tried various versions of coke/chicken broth/water/perform/chips/cookies/pretzels, but nothing worked. I had sealed my fate and was resigned to walking.
I’d reached mile 15 (after another spectacular Spectathle & TNM showing on the turnaround) and I did some more math. If I could run an 11 minute mile for the last few miles, I could finish sub-14. I psyched myself up for about 5 minutes, and started to run at a pace significantly faster than the faux-running I’d done when passing the cheering sections (who wants to walk when there’s all sorts of people around?!). In that moment, my dreams of sub-14 were dashed. I realized that I had to do what was best to finish happy instead of in pain, and that was to take my time and let my gut dictate my pace.
So, all in all, I walked probably 40% of the marathon, spent 10% in a port-a-potty, spent 5% thinking about being in a port-o-potty, and spent the remainder running. I’m ok with that, especially considering the alternative!
I passed the last aid station and could hear the announcer at the finish line. I saw a huge group from Pauole, who were super supportive as they could see my TN kit. I slowed to a walk as the turn down Sherman was one block ahead. I think this confused them, but when I explained that I was just taking it all in, they laughed and said – enjoy it! You’ll remember this forever!
I turned the corner on Sherman and someone told me I had six blocks left. Hells to the yes, I’m almost there. I can do anything for six blocks! One block later, a mystery man in a black t-shirt caught my attention. Our names are on our numbers, but I was surprised that he could see my name through the fading light. I turned to look closer and realized – it was my brother! I completely lost my shit and started crying. If I had my own personal ESPN highlights reel for my life, this would be the number 1 moment, even over crossing the finish line. He gave me a quick hug, said he was proud of me, and I thanked him for coming and proceeded down the finish chute.
I saw the TN team in all of their glory –seriously could not have done this race without those guys and gals and all of their support over the last year. What an amazing group of people – I’m so lucky to have trained with them!
I ran another block, and saw the Spectathletes. Well, I actually heard them – they were chanting ‘Vieve! Vieve! Vieve!’ as loud as they could and they got the crowd all riled up to support them and me. What an amazing gift to have friends like those yahoos…THANK YOU to Tim, Jess, Julia, Steph, Krista, Lindy, Darcy, Hank, and DJ for being there!
The last block was all my own. I realized what a rough journey it’d been…giving up weekends, nights, friendships, relationships – even awesome trips and experiences that were once in a lifetime opportunities. It was all totally worth it. I don’t think most people understand why, but for me, setting a seemingly impossible goal and achieving it is really one of my favorite parts of living. The people that supported me through it are the other half of that equation – THANK YOU for dealing with me for the last year! Ok, who am I kidding. Thank you for dealing with me for the last 31 years
I crossed the finish line, got my picture taken, and it was over. My legs felt fine. My heart felt full. I grabbed my nephews as soon as I could find them and started blabbering on excitedly about my experience. My parents were proud; my friends were proud; my teammates and coaches were proud…I soaked in that feeling for all it was worth! I’ll never forget it. I cannot wait until the next IronJourney, but in the meantime, I’ll be there paying it forward in Canada for all of my fellow teammates and friends.
Goal: Sub-5
Actual: 6:13:13
The Credits
I’m so worried that I’m going to leave someone out, so instead of listing a cast of thousands from the Spectathletes, TNM life, Carroll life, Seattle life, family life…I’ll list just a single name – thank you Coach T! You’re my hero, my voice of reason, and the baddest swimmer I know. Can’t wait to be your course support any time, any place.
Overall:
Goal: Finish….then 15 hours…then sub 14
Actual: 14:17:04
Ironman week started early for me. I left Seattle on Wednesday with a quick stop at Gerk’s to pick up my race wheels on the way. I’m not much of a research person, nor am I much of a mathlete; so, even if the most recent studies show that an aero helmet might make more of a difference than race wheels, I figured the wheels would make me look cool in pictures…and the super sperm helmet would not. It’s really all about the pictures (whoever designed tri-kits disagrees, but that’s another topic completely).
I got to Mark & T’s house just in time to interrupt their dinner and witness some good kid scolding. I really do think there has to be something so satisfying about ordering around little people. Connie was nice enough to volunteer to give me full reign to keep those angels in line, but I think I was too worried that all 90 pounds of her would actually kick my ass if I tried, so I just watched in awe as the Cunningham’s laid down the law. Lucky kids to have such studs for parents (even if I agree with the kids that horse play in the hot tub is totally acceptable behavior)!
After the tacos, T & I spent some time going through my race plan. I had crafted the perfect plan which involved a sub-hour swim; 2 minute transitions; 5:30 on the bike; and a sub-4 marathon. Basically, we both agreed that I was in the running for a Kona slot and that if I just fueled properly and cheated my ass off, I’d get it. I ended the evening by giving T some tips on swimming and teaching Mark how to change a flat on his bike and then went to bed early. The weather had a different plan though – thunder, lightning, and pouring rain made for a restless night. I may have been just a touch nervous about the race, but every time I thought about it, I would just try to convince myself that I was the best around and that nothing was gonna keep me down…and that if all went to shit, I could crash my bike into a ditch and get an honorable discharge from the race with hopefully minimal bodily harm.
I spent the day Thursday checking into our house, standing in line at registration, and watching cheap tv. Since I’ve cancelled my cable, I can now spend hours watching the worst of the worst. I’m still on pins and needles about the finale of My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding…and please, no one tell me if the Real Housewives of Orange County get more botox at the end of this season.
IronHank, IronNeen, and Darcy arrived late afternoon and we took a quick trip to Post Falls to pick up my bike. I’d left it there the night before hoping that some real triathlete mojo would rub off on it and make me faster on the bike leg. I think it may have actually worked! I did learn that even if you’re just taking your bike on a spin around the block to make sure the gears are working smoothly, you must completely kit up head to toe in TN gear. Thanks for that lesson, Mark!
Friday was spent packing, unpacking, repacking, making lists, checking them four hundred times, and doing other things that I can’t remember. I did take a little dip in the hot tub known as Lake Coeur d’Alene. It was fantastically refreshing. I met the rest of the team who’d arrived on Friday by the Lake and we all anxiously swam, chatted, and shivered. I met Kiet and a few other many-time Ironman racers…I wouldn’t say this added to my confidence level as most of them looked like they were wearing those t-shirts that have ridiculous muscles drawn on them. In this case, though, the muscles were real. Shit, what have I gotten myself into?!
Steph and Krista rolled into town after pulling an all nighter driving from Reno. At first I wondered if I’d told them that the race was on the wrong day, but in the end I realized that they were just scared to stop at Coffin Road in the middle of the night for a nap. They definitely win the prize for the furthest travel to cheer, as well as the prize for most vigorous cheerers. I expect a new company to be born based on the premise that people can hire Steph & Krista to cheer for them when their family can’t make it. I’m going to invest and think you should, too.
Saturday was the arrival of the parentals and the rest of the Spectathletes. Before everyone arrived, I drove the bike course. I had all of this anxious energy and needed some loud music, some fresh air, and some reaffirmation that the course wasn’t all hills. Two of the three of those things happened (the hills were sadly a reality). I also saw a few things that I considered to be good luck charms – two pairs of mama/baby deer crossing the road; a couple of gigantic turkeys; and a sign that said ‘Big Hill’ across the top, ‘Don’t Care’ across the bottom, and had a picture of a honey badger in the middle. If you’re familiar with the honey badger, you’ll be laughing as much as I was.
I talked to my brother, and as per the usual, his advice made me tear up and quickly change the subject so he wouldn’t know I was on the verge of crying. He said that I should live moment to moment, with the excitement of the end goal in mind…but never get past that next moment because I am capable of doing anything for a moment. He said it much more eloquently than I just did, but the message is still the same. He also affirmed that he and his family weren’t going to be able to make the drive to spectate, which was super disappointing to me. I tried not to pout and thanked him for the words of wisdom…and told him I’d update him with results when I was finished.
Mom and Dad got in early afternoon and we spent some quality time catching up. My mom was getting less and less convinced I was going to die by the hour, so I consider that a ‘win’. I also got an Ironman apron and a leash for IronDog from them as a gift, which was an awesome reality check that I was hopefully going to be an Ironman sometime very soon!
The Spectathletes (Julia, Jess, Tim, Lindy, IronDog) arrived after an interesting trek through EWa, wherein they saw a petrified forest, dinosaurs, and then finished the journey by making Julia ride the final four miles to the house on a bike. Totally normal behavior. The dudes drank whiskey; Hank, Neen and I ate pasta; and the house was cleared and we were in bed by 730ish PM.
The Day
IronDay dawned early. I had been practicing getting up at 4am because I knew sleep would be super important to my ability to complete the race. So I made some coffee, put on my race day outfit, and gathered my nutrition from the fridge for my bike and special needs bags. I ate some toast with honey and when I couldn’t get more than a piece down, I cracked back into the pasta and ate it straight from the bowl. Reckless.
I was 99% excited at that point, and only 1% nervous. I’d landed squarely on the denial step of the 12 steps and wasn’t to be moved. I had convinced myself that I was just out for a little swim/bike/run, and that it was not the biggest athletic feat of my entire life. I did something similar when I climbed Kilimanjaro…it was all about how many lies I could tell myself and actually convince myself to believe them. Ahhh, the glories of having a mind susceptible to suggestion.
Steph dropped us off a couple of blocks from the transition area, and we dropped bags, got body marked, and proceeded to pump up our bike tires. I couldn’t get air in my tires, so when the camera crew was finished with Hank (he was wearing a full-on Rocky robe like it was totally normal…which, actually, it is if you know him), he helped me inflate my tires. Damn you race wheels, you make me feel like I’ve never done basic bike maintenance before!
We still had about an hour before it was time to gear up, so we took a last pitstop at a hidden bathroom, and I lost the Lomasneys. I was headed to the morning clothes bag drop area, in progress with putting on my wetsuit, and had another good luck sign – a Rusted Root song came on the speakers that I used to listen to with my friends Cody & Luke in college. Luke passed away in his early 20s running the Chicago Marathon, and I always think of him when I do anything physically challenging. I took it as a sign that he was thinking of me that day when the song came on…and my nerves were miraculously totally gone. I felt ready. I felt strong. I felt totally unaware of what I was getting myself into.
I walked through the transition and ran into T, Mark, Jeff, Connie & the angels, Ann, and Erin. Great to see each of them before the swim start. Erin and I were actually able to start together after the gun – I knew I was in for a great day with all of the luck and supportive folks that were surrounding me!!
The Swim
Erin and I waded into the water and quickly lost each other. It was rough for about 5 minutes, but I modified my stroke so that I could protect my head (read, keep my goggles on) and so that I could actually get some movement quickly in the cold water. My mind was basically out to get me. The first 20 thoughts I had were about how I couldn’t do what the day was about to send my way…that I wasn’t a strong enough swimmer…that I hadn’t trained enough (which, actually, might have been true as I would have loved to have been more consistent on my training in the last couple of months). Again, I had to talk those voices down and replace them with the silly mantras I’d been practicing with for months. I started to focus on my breathing, to see how even and easy I could get it. I focused on counting my strokes and seeing how close I could stay to the dude off of whom I was drafting. I even focused on the way the water sounded as it sloshed around my head…anything to keep me in rhythm, on task, and positive.
I got to the first turn buoy and heard someone say “Why is it such a cluster-f@#$ around here?” Normally, I would respond something smart like – because you’ve stopped to have a conversation, dumbass…but instead I just did the sweet swimmer’s buoy turn where you alternate crawl/backstrokes until you’ve turned the corner. That got me through the hordes of folks amazingly well and I was pumped that at least 30 people saw how professional I looked doing it.
The rest of the first loop consisted of finding clear water and trying to avoid this guy swimming behind me that was trying to drown me. He kept holding on and pushing me down, so finally I kicked him in the face and he got the point. I got out of the water with absolutely no idea how I’d done and was immediately slammed in the face with an almost 45 minute swim. What the hell?!? I should have been at least 5-7 minutes faster than that! I ran back in all pissed off and in a tizzy and promptly got kicked in the eye and had to pop my head up because I was laughing so hard. I totally deserved that kick in the face, so I took it as a sign to settle down, decompose my swim, and see what I could do to improve. I realized after about 20 minutes of a mental checklist that my problem was my inability to keep my fingers together. They were frozen into jazz hands (fingers spread apart) and so my catch and pull were completely inefficient. I fist swam for about 20 strokes so I could clench/unclench my fingers, and then went back at it.
All in all, I had a craptastic swim, but I saw so many TN peeps and the Spectathles coming up out of the water that all was forgotten. After all, I was officially one-third Ironman.
Goal: 1:15
Actual: 1:29:28
The Bike
I had redemption on my mind for the bike portion of my IronJourney. My only other triathlon (Wildflower Half-Iron in Cali) was a huge hilly bitch, and my bike time showed that – I biked 56 miles in 3 hours 41 minutes. That’s a pace of ass-slow per mile, and I wanted to prove to myself that I hadn’t dropped almost three grand on a pretty looking triathlon bike for nothing.
So…I started passing people. I continued passing people. I kept passing people until Hayden Lake, when I realized that I had to pee. Before training with a whole bunch of bonafide rockstar Ironman triathletes, I’d always wondered what they did when they had to pee. I figured they’d get off the bike and try to make it to a port-o-potty…or at the very least, a bush. Not the case. The hard core triathletes like me who have done lots and lots of triathlons (also like me) just let it go on the bike. Find a hill, check to make sure no one’s behind you, get out of your saddle, and let it go. I found out (three times, actually) that it’s definitely not that easy. It took all of my concentration as a 31 year old to pee myself. I can tell you with pride that I did and would do it again in a second. It really allowed me to stay in rhythm, to keep my heart rate consistent (although my Garmin had long since given out on me as it said I was doing too many laps and had to delete data before continuing…bummer), and to keep my legs spinning. It also allowed me to stay comfortable on my saddle – which is REALLY hard to do after a hundred miles on a bike.
T always tells me that I should shoot for a negative split on my bike, but I really like to keep things positive, so I went with it. I did slow down on the second loop…but I really don’t think that it was because my legs gave out. I was tired, absolutely – but I also started puking at about mile 90, right before Laura Lee pulled up next to me to give me a red card for drafting off of the person 100 feet in front of me. She actually didn’t, but I really thought I was going to get into trouble for doing something stupid and rookie-like. She was just there to tell me I looked strong and give me support. Loved that and totally needed it.
Back to the puking…my nutrition seemed spot on all day long. I was taking a gu every 30 minutes, 16-24 oz of Perform plus sips of water every hour, and even a few of my treats, which were honey chews. I’d practiced with everything, and had never had gut trouble before…but I just couldn’t keep much down after mile 90. Another thing that’s possible to do while in aero? Vomit without hitting your bike. Again, I’m basically a professional.
The course support was awesome. So many TNM-ers out and about; the Spectathletes and my parents at every turn…and a really clutch placement on behalf of Josh Hadway way out in the middle of nowhere. So exciting to see him out there! I also passed (and by passed, I mean, they were way ahead of me) Mark, Jeff, and Travis…I saw Erin and Neen on the course…and I even passed (and by passed, I mean, caught up to and overtook) Hank. He passed me back about 2 minutes later and I was left saying ‘Where’d whoooooooooo gooooooooooooo’, but it was still a great confidence boost to know that I was staying strong on the bike. I ended the ride with a huge finish chute cheering section and left my shoes on my bike (pro status). I could barely walk when I dismounted, but it felt awesome to take some pressure off of my seat and stand up straight for the first time in 6 hours!
Goal: 6:30
Actual: 6:23:36, 17.52 MPH
The Shuffle
I knew I was in trouble within minutes of starting my run. My gut was a mess, I couldn’t stand up straight, and my right foot was completely asleep. I had to pull my shit together to pass the TN tent, and mumbled through a half-smile ‘Pukey, pukey!’ to T when she asked how I was doing. This 5 minute section of the run was the hardest 5 minutes of the entire day. In fact, it might have been the hardest 5 minutes I’ve had since I started training in late September. My goal was to run the first half of the marathon, and then walk as I needed to after that. I’m not a strong runner. If I was to skip a workout, it would almost always be a run. In general, I really hate running more than I hate bad drivers and people that leave only one square of toilet paper left on a roll. So naturally, I wasn’t looking forward to the run.
I was pleasantly surprised, though, that after about a mile of walking I was able to actually start to run. My pace was painfully slow (the Garmin was back and registering 11 minute miles), but I felt like I could run that fast (slowly) forever. I wasn’t winded, my legs didn’t hurt, and my foot had awakened. I kept up the run through the first 5-6 miles of the course, and kept getting in a little bit of nutrition at each passing aid station. I threw up one more time during those miles, but my stomach settled a little bit and I was able to keep nutrition in.
I did some math in my head (dangerous) and realized that I had a shot of going sub-14. Now, my initial goal was to finish the Ironman only. That’s what T had designed my training program to do. I set a stretch goal to beat 15 hours…and only when I started laying out my race plan did I realize that I could actually come in during the 13th hour if everything went impeccably. My day was far from perfect, but I still had sub-14 in mind.
That lasted for about another mile, and then the stomach cramps set in. I was no longer vomiting, but the gut issues were still there…and I made use of every port-o-potty from mile 7 on in the marathon. I was able to take nutrition in, and my legs felt great – but every time I’d start to run, I’d have to beeline it to the nearest port-o-potty. I tried various versions of coke/chicken broth/water/perform/chips/cookies/pretzels, but nothing worked. I had sealed my fate and was resigned to walking.
I’d reached mile 15 (after another spectacular Spectathle & TNM showing on the turnaround) and I did some more math. If I could run an 11 minute mile for the last few miles, I could finish sub-14. I psyched myself up for about 5 minutes, and started to run at a pace significantly faster than the faux-running I’d done when passing the cheering sections (who wants to walk when there’s all sorts of people around?!). In that moment, my dreams of sub-14 were dashed. I realized that I had to do what was best to finish happy instead of in pain, and that was to take my time and let my gut dictate my pace.
So, all in all, I walked probably 40% of the marathon, spent 10% in a port-a-potty, spent 5% thinking about being in a port-o-potty, and spent the remainder running. I’m ok with that, especially considering the alternative!
I passed the last aid station and could hear the announcer at the finish line. I saw a huge group from Pauole, who were super supportive as they could see my TN kit. I slowed to a walk as the turn down Sherman was one block ahead. I think this confused them, but when I explained that I was just taking it all in, they laughed and said – enjoy it! You’ll remember this forever!
I turned the corner on Sherman and someone told me I had six blocks left. Hells to the yes, I’m almost there. I can do anything for six blocks! One block later, a mystery man in a black t-shirt caught my attention. Our names are on our numbers, but I was surprised that he could see my name through the fading light. I turned to look closer and realized – it was my brother! I completely lost my shit and started crying. If I had my own personal ESPN highlights reel for my life, this would be the number 1 moment, even over crossing the finish line. He gave me a quick hug, said he was proud of me, and I thanked him for coming and proceeded down the finish chute.
I saw the TN team in all of their glory –seriously could not have done this race without those guys and gals and all of their support over the last year. What an amazing group of people – I’m so lucky to have trained with them!
I ran another block, and saw the Spectathletes. Well, I actually heard them – they were chanting ‘Vieve! Vieve! Vieve!’ as loud as they could and they got the crowd all riled up to support them and me. What an amazing gift to have friends like those yahoos…THANK YOU to Tim, Jess, Julia, Steph, Krista, Lindy, Darcy, Hank, and DJ for being there!
The last block was all my own. I realized what a rough journey it’d been…giving up weekends, nights, friendships, relationships – even awesome trips and experiences that were once in a lifetime opportunities. It was all totally worth it. I don’t think most people understand why, but for me, setting a seemingly impossible goal and achieving it is really one of my favorite parts of living. The people that supported me through it are the other half of that equation – THANK YOU for dealing with me for the last year! Ok, who am I kidding. Thank you for dealing with me for the last 31 years
I crossed the finish line, got my picture taken, and it was over. My legs felt fine. My heart felt full. I grabbed my nephews as soon as I could find them and started blabbering on excitedly about my experience. My parents were proud; my friends were proud; my teammates and coaches were proud…I soaked in that feeling for all it was worth! I’ll never forget it. I cannot wait until the next IronJourney, but in the meantime, I’ll be there paying it forward in Canada for all of my fellow teammates and friends.
Goal: Sub-5
Actual: 6:13:13
The Credits
I’m so worried that I’m going to leave someone out, so instead of listing a cast of thousands from the Spectathletes, TNM life, Carroll life, Seattle life, family life…I’ll list just a single name – thank you Coach T! You’re my hero, my voice of reason, and the baddest swimmer I know. Can’t wait to be your course support any time, any place.
Overall:
Goal: Finish….then 15 hours…then sub 14
Actual: 14:17:04
