A Tale of Last Season

I thought I'd start my new blog with a tale of last season. My last race of 2007 was on the Big Island of Hawaii, doing the big race: Ironman. It treated me better than it has in the past, and has left me with the desire to try, try again. Here's my story:

I traveled to Kona on the Wednesday before the race. The evening before, at work, my car had been broken into and my race top stolen. My bike had been in the car, but chained to the seat (I’ve gotten smarter). I was hoping my bad luck was over, and I would only have good things happen for the race. Wednesday I lugged my 150 pounds of, um, luggage around for so long (it took about 17 hours to get there) that I was STILL sore in the shoulders Saturday. (Mental note: more weight training.) The only benefit of that whole experience was the number of cute guys who felt sympathy for me and helped me out; I particularly liked the ones who spoke not a word of English!

Thursday included a short little run during the annual Underpants Run, where I had a spontaneous photo shoot with Greg Welch (thanks to my friend Christy and her Team Nice Ass underpants!), who posted a picture of me and Christy on ironmanlive.com. I was too shy to strike up a conversation with “the Bachelor” Andy Baldwin; that’s my only regret. I did a couple of swims on the course, but didn’t quite make it out to the floating espresso bar. Too bad that wasn't there during the race!


Thursday night's excitement involved learning just how strong I am. My bike pump got stuck on my valve extender as I was airing up for a tire check. I pulled on it so hard that I actually tore the valve off the tire (mental note: less weight training). Luckily there was a race bike shop located right in my hotel lobby, and for just $150 they gave me peace of mind and a freshly glued new tire. Lesson learned: clinchers for me from now on!

The weather in the days before the race felt nice and cool at 85 compared to what I’d tried to train in all summer, but they say it reaches >100 in the lava fields. I believe it. The wind is an entirely different story. It's hard to describe if you haven't experienced it. Nothing I've ever ridden my bike in really compares to it. I love the wind, I love the wind!

Race morning my excitement finally overcame my nervousness. I was staying 50 yards from the pier (the start, transitions, and finish), so I went down to get marked, came back up to the room to relax and finish my breakfast. I went back down about an hour before the start to meet Christy and hang out by the pool (obviously the place to be-- Macca was there too). I didn’t leave myself much time after zipping up my new speedsuit to get to the starting line, which is about 100m out from the beach (you have to tread water while waiting for the start) but did manage to hang on a kayak for a little bit before we were surprised by the cannon going off a few minutes early. I got a little beat up, a little chafed by the suit, and a little gulp of salt water in the hour and twnty-one minutes it took me to finish the very scenic ocean swim. I wasn’t thrilled with that time after all the work I’ve been doing on my swimming, but it wasn’t my worst there.

I had a quick stop under the fresh water hoses coming into T1. In the tent I changed into my tri shorts and substitute race top (purchased 2 days before), went through the sunscreen sprayers, car wash style, and I was off.

Within 15 miles of the bike, I was aching in the shoulders and back. By 30, both legs were killing me. By the turnaround at Hawi, I had to stop. My feet were numb, but not numb enough to eliminate the pain. The entire backside of both legs had shooting pains that were only relieved by getting off my bike. Did I put my seat on wrong? Forget a bolt or something? I still don't know. So I stood down for a few minutes about 4 different times. Why does this not happen in training!? There was a tailwind for about 5 miles after Hawi that quickly turned to a cross wind (almost knocking me off my bike about 3 times), then back to a headwind for the remainder (yes, the remainder-- like 40 more miles). That was hands down the most painful bike ride I’ve ever done, and I got to spend 6:40 doing it. Again, not my worst time on the course, but I wasn’t excited about it.

T2, on the other hand, was fantastic. Two volunteers immediately came to my service with my bag and an icy towel. Once I’d finished changing I just sat there, towel around the neck. I asked if I could stay, but they urged me on. The 9+ minutes didn’t last nearly long enough.

Sometimes you don’t realize how good you feel until you’ve experienced torturous pain. The run felt so good just because I was not riding my bike anymore. I left transition and got a nice cheer from Christy's mom and boyfriend, Jindy. It's always nice to see people you know after many tough hours in a race. She was just up the road from me, having had a similar swim and slightly better bike and T2. I decided to just start at a pace I could handle and see what happened. If all else failed, GaryIronmanHolmes (he’s done about 27 Ironmans) told me to run 2 mins, walk 1. I actually felt fine running, no need to walk, and there were incredible volunteers at the water stops. One guy at about mile 4 told me with complete sincerity, “I am so proud of you.” Once again, I asked if I could stay there.

At the first turnaround (5 miles) Christy was about 6 minutes ahead. She told me to catch her so we could run together. I was working on it. That kept me motivated. The sun was setting as I went into the energy lab (about miles 16-20), and it was gorgeous. Every few hundred yards there was another photographer lying on the ground getting footage of it. At 18.5 miles, the energy lab turnaround and last one of the day, Christy was 3 minutes ahead. Great, I’d gained 3 minutes in 13 miles. But I was newly motivated again, just seeing and cheering for her. That combined with the fact I only had about 7 miles to go made me pick it up. I believe it was my fastest pace of the day (including much of the bike!). So at 22 miles, I caught her. She’d been running with a disposable camera, so we took pictures of each other. I told her to run with me, but she let me go.

Finally, FINALLY, after a few more miles of running in complete darkness except for the occasional blinding headlights (I almost even ran right into a couple people who weren’t wearing their glowstick necklace), I got back to town. The crowds got bigger and more excited around every corner. Ali’i Drive is an amazing place to run. About 200 yards out there is an arch to run under, then the path becomes carpeted. You run toward the brightest light you’ve ever seen. Fans are going crazy (ok, they don’t know me, they’re not MY fans, but it doesn’t matter). A guy in a wheelchair flies by you at 30 mph. You slap one of the first of 1000 hands stretched out toward you and the force sends you backward 5 feet. You start running forward again, just trying to enjoy the culmination of this whole 11 months of training, but it goes too fast, like it always does. Run: 3:49 Total: 12:06