IMAZ: the spectator's report

I have been so slow in getting around to reporting MY experience, you know, the important one, in Tempe. Jeremy stole the show, as well as all my fabulous pictures (just kidding, I really fell down on the job).

I'm just so excited for him. He did (most of) the training, he stuck to his plan (except for some of the nutrition part), and had an overall great first Ironman. But since you can read the firsthand report from him, I'll just go over my day.

In the days leading up to the race, there was no worry of resting, eating the wrong foods, stressing about gear or how much it was going to hurt. I was totally relaxed; I knew he'd be fine and have fun. We ate sushi (cooked for me) and a few In and Out Burgers. All the fit athletes walking around outdoing each other in their compression socks and tri suits made me feel more happy that I was not competing. Or racing. :)

My friend Rob, a longtime coach and amazing athlete, who has done over 250 triathlons, was there to spectate as well, and I was lucky enough to get some swimming form tips from him on Saturday. We met up at the Arizona State pool, a huge, outdoor, Olympic-sized, clean, clear paradise. I'd swim every day if I had something like that (and the weather to match). I took my mountain bike along to get around easier and realized that I was crazy for not  having attended ASU at some point in my life. I left the pool and rode along a palm-lined pedestrian path right through campus to get to our favorite pizza place.

Race morning was the usual crowded, crazy, cold madness, still with a certain calmness and seriousness among the racers. After watching him do his last preparations, I bid Jeremy farewell for the day, took the bike pump back to the car that was parked ridiculously close to the finish line, and headed up to the bridge over the lake to squeeze in front of 3 rows of people, next to Rob and his friend Tom, who had been up there 45 minutes. I've never seen an Ironman start from such a vantage point, and it was impressive.

We made it to the swim-T1 chute, and I was ecstatic to see Jeremy out running the chute, already stripped, in just over 1:08 (officially in the 1:07s).  The next stop was the bike out/turnaround, and we spent several hours there with me picking Rob's and Tom's brains about coaching theory (Tom is a good friend of the Friels), trying to sweep some glass out of the road (big football games the night before do not help the cleaning crews), and tracking  racers from our phones as best we could. There was a coffee break in there at some point, some attempted pictures, and some worry over Jeremy looking what we thought to be distressed (turns out he was pissed).

We headed back down to the lake to watch the runners come out after our friends had all  headed out on loop 3 of the bike, and we ended up spending hours there. After losing Tom for a bit, we respotted him, wearing a volunteer t-shirt, directing traffic around the run out/start of loop 2. He was much needed! I snapped a few pics of Jeremy, we got some fast food, and I ran back to the car to paint my belly with a Go Daddy for Jeremy's last loop.

Rob kept me entertained throughout the race. He's had so much experience and was around way back when this whole sport started, so he has a great point of view on what's necessary, what's ridiculous, and when you're just being really stupid. I laughed for hours.

Jeremy wasn't doing so well in the middle of the marathon due to stomach issues, and I just really hoped he wouldn't be too disappointed. But when I saw him come around that last turn to the finish line, he was all smiles and running on air. It was either my happiness for him or pregnancy hormones that almost had me crying.

"Dr. Jeremy Harwood, you are an Ironman!"

Vicariously

It's only 3 days until IMAZ and I'm getting nervous and excited for it. I'm pulling up my IM playlist that has been compiling for the last, oh, 10 years. Some of those songs are going to take me back to the afternoon before IMFL 08 when Nancy and I were relaxing in our room at the Ironman house in Panama City. I can vividly remember it. Some songs calmed me and some got me excited (side note: will these same songs work as "birth music"? hmmm).

I've gone over and over the packing list, worked on taping up the tubular and fitting it snugly under the seat, and tried to remember every last item that could possibly be needed. I've gone through race day in my head, and I've even dreamed about getting to the race late, as usual. This time it was Laura who we were taking to race, but luckily she didn't care that she was starting behind everyone. 

My runs have been feeling ok, but I'm having strange pains crop up, like today in my hip flexor. I'm feeling smooth while swimming, but I have been stressing over the water temperature (currently 65F, but was 62 a few days ago).

And all of this for the husband! It won't be my first time as a spectathlete, but I definitely have more invested in this race than ones from the past. Wish us luck!

10 years and 11 Ironmans

It's unbelievable to me that this weekend marks the 10 year anniversary of my first Ironman. It started in 2001 with Ironman Florida when I was just 24, and my 11th one was 2 years ago in Hawaii. To honor my big Ironiversary, I've gone back and looked at some numbers that I've compiled from these 11 races.

4 days, 21 hours, and 26 minutes I have spent racing Ironmans

26.4 miles of swimming in those races

1232 miles of cycling

288.2 miles of running (um, give or take; more on that later)

11:39 the average of those 11 times

244 approximate number of slices of Pizza Hut pan pizza that could fuel that many calories of exercise

I know a lot of people have much more impressive numbers, but I have a few other stats that may be a little more unique.

2 hours, 52 minutes the time difference between my best and worst IM marathons

30 approximate number of minutes spent lying in the grass on the side of the road in a cute Coeur d'Alene neighborhood (that makes up for some of the above stat)

22 minutes and 44 seconds how much slower my run split was than my bike split that year

10 times I have run that loop through St. Andrew's State Park (17 if you also count the Gulf Coast half)

12.52 miles per hour that I averaged in the last 22 miles of the Queen K in my first Kona, 2002. Proof here.

17:28 minutes and seconds I spent in T2 that year

17 approx number of times I was asked what the hell I was doing in there (answer: lying on a cot, eating chips, and getting my blood pressure taken)

1 the number of marathons I've run in the 4 hour range. I had seven 3's, three 5's, and one 6+.

 4 number of different bikes I have ridden in those 11 Ironmans

2 number of those bikes stolen since then (one didn't even last long enough to get me to an IM, see here for a better listing)

It's been such a fun 10 years, and I'm not done yet. I have a few race reports written here of Kona '07, IMFL '08, IMLou '09, and Kona '09. And now for some fun pictures.

IMFL 2001 My very first, and I'm all smiles. Must be first loop.

Notice the required reflective tape. I'm sure satellites could see me from space.

Sadly, I can't find pictures from my first Kona in 2002. I know they're around somewhere. They sure had plenty of time to take pictures of me.

Next was Coeur d'Alene 2003, the inaugural, infamous, 100F race (stats above). Proof that I actually ran at some point (this is before the nap). The guy next to me helped me along, even commandeering a chair from a spectator when I could no longer stand on my own two feet.

I was probably most proud of this finish. I'm even smiling. And no, this wasn't quite my worst time ever.

IMFL 2003 was 5 months later. Much better. Although it looks like this may be my worst run ever based on my shuffle, I actually had my best marathon so far. And look, it's St. Andrew's park!

I waited a whole year to race again. IMFL 2004. I was actually running hard for me, and had a 26 minute PR. Um, St. Andrew's again.

Went to Kona again in 2005 and improved a bit! It helped that Gary raced right next to me, and even waved at me, in the swim. He smoked me later.

But I did improve that year and "ran" under 5 hours.

2006 was back in Florida for a super cold year. This is when I got my "ironman jacket" from Walmart, and 2nd in my AG by 2 minutes. She passed me back in the run when I wasn't looking.

2007 I was back in Kona, and had my best race there so far. I actually ran. Truly. Even smiled on the bike!

2008 was my PR race back in Florida. We had calm winds, but the best part was the friends racing with me. Hey the sun is still up!

Apparently I'm very consistent with my run faces and postures. Check out these two from 2008 and 2004. There's the crooked hat, the arms, the frown. Ha!

IM Louisville was #10

And the final Ironman thus far was Kona in 2009. I'll just put a picture of one of the actual fun parts and just skip the rest.

And while going through pictures I noticed several that feature none other than  GaryIronman. My first one, 2 Konas, CdA, and Louisville, not to mention many other Floridas. We may be about equal in wins-losses to each other, but he's almost tripled my total number!


If only I could count the number of mistakes, hours of training, calories of Gu and Gatorade, meltdowns, blisters, tubes, salt tablets... Looking back has made me a little more nostalgic for the days of training for my old friend Ironman. I plan to get my fix through Jeremy in just two weeks (!!), again in June, and maybe next November in Florida when I go participate in Girls' Zone once again, baby in tow. My friendship with Ironman isn't over yet!

Racing pregnant

Being pregnant has brought me luck in triathlons. We (the baby and I) are 2 for 2 in overall wins. It's been almost 3 weeks since this race, so I may be fuzzy on some of the details (like how freezing cold it was after the race -- oh no wait, it's coming back).

If you recall, I had to race this race since a) it was put on by the base, and b) I had trained a group to race what was mostly first races, and maybe a little c) showing that even at 16 weeks preggo I could win. I have managed to pick races with low attendance for these two OAF wins, but it wasn't intentional, I promise!

The Gord had some cool nights leading up to the race, but nothing like we got Saturday night. We awoke to 35 degrees. Luckily in this case, the swim was the last event due to the lack of water in these parts as well as the lack of experience by the non-triathlete race directors in the use of that technology called "timing chips." So at least there would be no cycling in a wet trisuit. However, to put a wrinkle in my plans, the pool is located outside, and hasn't been used since Labor Day. I did what any logical, hypothermia-fearing triathlete would do: I brought my wetsuit. The logistics of getting the suit on in T2 occupied me on the drive over. I still figured the time lost would be more than made up for in the warmth and speed of my swim. Right?

When we got to the check in we were told that indeed the pool was heated (wait, and they still don't let us swim in it for 9 months of the year??). Thank goodness I now did not have to plead to use the indoor pool, beg to turn it into a duathlon, or explain that wetsuits should absolutely be legal in this race.

The warm up run got me good and out of breath, which is very usual for the first 10 minutes of running these days. Jeremy was on call and had to stop in the middle of the warm up to call a patient back. We rode through our gears and did not swim beforehand, needless to say. 

The run was a mass start of men and women from a parking lot across from transition. It was supposed to be a 5k, but I knew last year's was significantly short, and hoped this year's would be as well. I really had no idea how fast I could run, and forgot my Garmin anyway, so just went by how hard I was breathing. It was a good crowd with lots of people I knew from working on base, and a great group that I had helped train. We ran along roads and cut over to a pedestrian path, and I tried to stay on the heels of a Col I knew who had a good pace going on. Jeremy was almost out of sight. A woman was ahead of me for a few hundred yards, but her attire told me she wouldn't be an overall contender (and she probably thought the same-- I was wearing my favorite "IMFL jacket" I'd bought from Walmart before a particularly cold one). I knew at least one other woman was right on my heels. Pulling back into transition, it was immediately apparent that even as slow as I've gotten, it was well over a 5k. Later, after measuring it to be at least 3.8 miles, I calculated that I'd somehow run under 7:15 pace. Woohoo! (I should probably mention that the run elevation gain I'd estimate to be, oh... 8 feet.)

A minute lead on the next female didn't give me too much confidence, but since I was expecting to be behind after the run, it was a bonus. The flat but for some reason not fast bike course was maybe a bit windy, but passing some men, including my pacing Col made me feel better. At the turnaround I was only 2 minutes ahead by my best estimation, but I didn't get the tailwind I was expecting. 

During the 700m swim (this was SOOO long for a 5k run, 30k bike!), I was well aware of how my nervousness affected my breathing. I'd start looking at the earlier lanes to see who might be catching me, and I'd start breathing harder, gulping water, and panicking. Interesting that I'm such a mental case. 

In the end, I was almost caught by one of my first time triathlete guys who happens to be an excellent swimmer, but held off all other females by at least 8 minutes, most of which was, surprisingly, created in the swim. I had a handful of my first timers finish happy and wanting more. Success.

Jeremy had a really good race and ended up 2nd OA, whooping the rest of the family by 7 minutes! But if you consider that my legs did it for two people.... 

Since I've been taking some weekly pictures to track my progress in the girth expansion area, I got extra dorky for this one and wore my medal and tri shorts. Surely this baby BOY will turn out to be a triathlete!

It's race weekend for me too!

I am actually attempting one last triathlon of the season. It's the base's annual sprint that I've trained a few people for, and therefore I had to register myself. In my last race back in July, I was very newly pregnant and didn't know it, and while I did run slow and breathe hard, it was nothing compared to the wind sucking I've been doing lately.

I have run 5Ks and probably even a few 10Ks and half marathons holding back in the past, but I've never signed up for a triathlon knowing I'd have to take it somewhat easy. It's a RACE after all! My heavy breathing may scare my fellow competitors, and I keep hearing of this "pregnancy bonk" thing, so I'm going to do my best to limit the chances of both. 

I don't know if it's fortunately or unfortunately, but I'm not really looking super pregnant yet. I have a "I just ate too many chips with queso and several pints of beer" look, especially after eating. And yesterday's slow jog felt like I was competing in the Beer Mile from how my bloated tummy felt. So most people won't know that I'm actually pregnant at this race tomorrow. 

If only I could wear the awesome present I got this week:

But the low is 42 and I imagine I'll be covering up more. But I am considering wearing the top that makes me look most pregnant, and hopefully not most beer-gutted. 

I had one of my newbies text me today to say that it was that time of the month. I'm 4 months pregnant!! No excuses. But I'm probably a little unsympathetic, because I'm sure, in the 70 or 80+ triathlons I've done that at some point, I have had the same issue. I don't remember it affecting me. The pain of racing is always worse to me. Plus, upon a little reading, I was reminded that that part of the cycle is probably best for sprint racing.

Speaking of racing, of course I'm glued to the computer today watching Ironman Hawaii. Seeing the bay, the church, Ali'i, the pier, all of that, kind of makes me want to be there. Ok, I'd really like to be there, just not racing. Still not ready for that. When I see those huge windmills like they have near Hawi I still get a little queasy. And let me just have one moment of jealousy: it is always "calm and cool" when I'm not there?? Really it just depends on how far back you start the bike :)

Thanks to Damie, I now have links to lots of race coverage over the years from this race! I first started watching IMs while on the trainer after recording the 1997 NBC coverage. I never thought I'd actually do the race, but it looked so amazing, it was nice to dream. If anybody wants to borrow my VCR tape, let me know!

While I don't see anyone out there from my computer screen that looks pregnant or even more than a pound or two overweight, I'm going to use today to motivate myself for my big end of the season race tomorrow.

Happy end of season racing to all!

I'll just take the metric version

This may become a new trend. Whatever distance Jeremy does in his Ironman training, I'll do kilometers to his miles! I think it'll work perfectly. 

This past Saturday was the 10th annual Tour de Ruidoso, which hosted a 100 miler and a 100K. This is the city up on our "big" mountain (I know I keep calling it that, but it does go up to 11,000ft, which is over 1000 higher than the one just up the road from us). So we trekked up to the cooler weather, where I decided at the last minute to shed the arm warmers. The sun was coming up and standing at the car felt warm. I regretted this decision for about 2 miles. I told Jeremy to get up there with the front group when we started, and realized that I was so concerned about him that I forgot to position myself accordingly. I know I'm slower lately, but I should still beat some of the mountain bikes and guys in cotton t-shirts. Plus it would be nice to have somebody to draft off of. The first 2 miles I worked by myself up a little incline, trying to catch the pack that had formed in front that Jeremy had gotten onto in time. Not wanting to go out too hard, but not wanting to ride completely by myself, it was a tough decision, but I kept pushing. THEN, we made a turn onto the highway which went straight uphill. 

Ah ha, it was the beginning of what had been described on the registration form! 

Beginning with a climb from 6840 to 7485, a downhill and a climb back to 7482 and then dropping down to 7257 ... and this is in the first 6 miles!

Of course after the hills started, everyone spread out and the usual happened. I would make up ground on the uphills, people would fly by me on the downhills. I was being particularly careful with my downhill speed due to this whole pregnancy thing-- I really don't want to fall-- so I was getting left behind. Every so often the road would flatten a bit and I would ride with a few others, or a small group. There were several groups of Mexican cycling teams, and I think they particularly appreciated my Los Locos kit. I got at least one chuckle. 

I rode in a nice little paceline for a few miles with about 4 men. One was of the t-shirt wearing type, and he was all over the road. You know those people who can't be still to save their lives? He was fidgeting all over the bike. I think he burned three times as many calories as I did per pound. After each person had had their turn behind him, someone finally broke away off the front and let him scare the next group for a while. 

Losing those guys somewhere between the braking on the downhills and passing on the uphills, I found myself mostly alone again, until a few hills later when I passed a guy in white. Some people don't say a word in passing (especially when being passed on an uphill by a girl), but Juan Carlos was not one of those people! We started chatting from the moment I pulled up beside him, and he had a lot of encouragement to give. It turns out my new friend is a former pro cyclist from Columbia. He says he was much smaller back in the 80s when he was racing (he weighed about the same as I do now), but still, I kept up with a Columbian pro! He let me go on one of the climbs, and I said I'd see him later. 

I knew we were getting close to the airport, with one more hill to go. As I crested one and made a turn, a lone crow the size of a bear cub, cawed at me as I passed. I could tell exactly when Juan Carlos and another guy passed. I think he was cheering us on. 

So back to this flat section that I'd been looking forward to. The straight on headwind that we turned into made my speed much slower than I'd expected. The most brutal part was that I could see several miles ahead of me, and I knew that it wasn't ending anytime soon. I later described this "flat section by the airport" as the worst one for me. I was told it "wasn't exactly flat." 

Garmin tells me they were right: 

As a side note, this reminds me of how mean I am. There's a section on our "flat ride" from home that I always get onto Jeremy for going so slow on. I had in it my head that he had it in his head that it was actually an uphill when it was clearly not.

 

Again, Garmin was there to settle it: 

 

Yes, I'm mean. Or just really bad at judging grade. But back to the ride. I did take a break at the final rest stop for a delicious PB&J, and I figured it might be a long time getting home. As soon as I saddled back up I saw Juan Carlos up the road just a bit and hoped to catch him for a nice draft. About 5 miles later, I finally got within his view, and I think he slowed down for me. And he left me draft! But it ended quickly as we got to "the final downhill." A very nice volunteer lady cheered us on and told us it was all downhill. This being JC's specialty these days with the extra weight, he took off. But around the corner we found that the nice lady lied. Twice. My Garmin had called it quits for the day at about 54 miles, and left me by myself for those last few hundred feet up and thankfully down as well.

Finally finished, with nothing to do but eat green chile burgers and wait for Jeremy, but not drink the free beer, I found some good people to chat with, I won a recycled bike chain bottle opener (to match my recycled bike chain picture frame), and even saw some football. 

I'll let Jeremy describe his long, flat tiring (haha) day with a few more thousand feet of climbing thrown in there. But I want to remind everybody that he only carried himself over that course, while I was biking for two. :)

P.S. Does anyone else have a 405 that only holds a 100% charge for 3 hours??

Smells Like Ironman Season

I really love this time of year. It's Ironman season! I love the excitement surrounding Ironmans and the last few weeks of training and taper when you either know you have this one nailed, or the nervousness is setting in about the weather, the heat, your bike being in the shop, or your tendinitis acting up. 

So far the season is well under way, with IM Coeur d'Alene, Lake Placid, Louisville, Canada, Wisconsin, and Wales over. First timers like Keith had solid first races and got hooked, and veterans like Damie overcame tough conditions to finish with a great race. I've personally only done 2 IMs earlier than October, so I feel like we've still got a lot of excitement coming. 

Around these parts it's quite different from what I'm used to. Normally it's me, just me, leaving piles of dirty laundry and water bottles everywhere. I'd scrounge for my own meals in the late evening after a long mid-week brick. But not this year. I've never had a husband train for an Ironman before (or even a IM-training roommate for that matter), and while I'm not giving him his specific training plan, I still feel somewhat responsible for how he races on Nov 20th. I want him to succeed almost as much as I always wanted to, but it's mostly out of my control. That's a weird feeling! I think some of my own "I didn't do a far/ fast/ hard/ windy enough swim/ bike/ run" guilt feelings have been rubbing off on him. It could be for the better, but I know I can be particularly OCD about that, and I hope it doesn't affect him negatively.

My responsibility should be providing nutritious, delicious foods for him, washing 3 loads of laundry a day, moving all 12 water bottles from sink to dishwasher daily, and possibly doing yardwork and extra cleaning for him (ooops, he just mowed the grass; maybe next week). I keep putting that stuff off until 1) my job ends in 2 weeks, 2) my appetite returns from the land of morning sickness purgatory, and/or 3) I figure out which of his athletic clothing actually goes in the dryer (I'm sure I'll shrink something to cut-off 80s tank length). 

He's really being a good Ironman athlete so far. He's not complaining too much; only rarely does he admit to tiredness. Despite my heightened olfactory senses, he really almost never smells after working out (I need to start using his deodorant more often). Since I'm only doing partial rides and runs with him, he lets me sleep in most weekends and picks me up for the second loop. He hasn't complained that I rarely cook these days; he doesn't mind the occasional Sonic or Taco Bell run (ok, yes it's more than occasional). 

I do need to work on my spectating endurance, since I know an all day Ironman spectathlon is a tiring, energy consuming event. Last weekend I practiced with a half, but it honestly seemed to fly by. I was ready for it. Double the distance will take some work, but I look forward to having friends there to sherpa me through it. Luckily I have 9 more weeks of training.

And now to leave you with our featured Ironman athlete, finishing off his last race with a bang head-first slide.

Immediately from stepping over the finish line, to a full speed dive onto this:

 

Don't let that Garmin get submerged in the...! oh, well, that's ok, it'll dry.