The Day After...

You probably know how the day ended already, but I'll pretend you don't, so the suspense builds! I set the alarm for 4:15am and woke up at 4:09am. In order to get some calories in before the swim, I drank an Ensure and tried my best to choke down an almond butter sandwich. I also drank huge amounts of water the day before and in the morning. One of the goals for food intake the morning before a race (and please excuse the graphic nature of this) is to have a good poo! I thought I had accomplished that and continued on with my race morning.

We got down to the race venue at 5:30am (a short 5 minute walk from our hotel) and I prepped my bike and began getting my wetsuit on, which is no easy task. It probably took me 10 minutes to get it on and adjust my swim cap and goggles. Tracy and my family were there pumping me up for this 15+ hour event. When the time hit 6:30am I was in my wetsuit and ready to go--and I mean ready to "go." I looked for an available port-a-potty, but every one had a line of athletes 20 deep. Time was ticking and I contemplated starting a 140.6 mile race without making a trip to the bathroom...I don't think so! I waited until 6:45 (when the lines were short) ripped my wetsuit off and went to the bathroom. But I only had 10 minutes to get my wetsuit on and get down to the water...

Two minutes before the start of the race I jumped into the water.....and AAAAHHHHHHHH....it was so cold it literally took my breath away. Approximately 63 degrees and a bit choppy was how I was going to start this day. The cannon went off and so did I. Forty-three minutes into the swim I began to experience a cramp in my calf, something I had dreaded would happen. I floated on my back for a few seconds and rubbed out the cramp as best I could and continued on. By this time, I also began to get the chills because the water was so cold. I certainly did not appreciate how cold 63 degrees would feel. What I thought was going to be the easiest part of my day turned out to be the most difficult. I really thought I was not going to finish that swim! But what I focused on was moving in a forward direction and that kept me going. When I finally got out of the water after 1 hour and 49 minutes, my hands and feet were numb. I made my way into the changing tent (after having my wetsuit stripped off me by volunteers) where another volunteer helped me change into my bike clothes. After thirteen minutes I was running out the tent to jump on my bike.

During my training I had planned on being able to hit 14 mph. The first 38 mile loop was close to 15 mph. I was feeling great. After that first 2.5 hour loop my feet finally began to thaw out from the freezing cold. The second loop of the bike was also 2.5 hours and I was feeling amazing. My nutrition was right on, the weather was perfect and I knew I was going to start the run by 4:30. Well, you can never count on things going right for the entire length of an Ironman race and this one was no different. During loop number three (mile 84 to be exact) I got a flat tire. I thought to myself, 'not again.' During the race in 2006 it was flat tires that brought me down--well, actually it was was due to lack of training, but saying it was flat tires makes me feel so much better! Anyway, I was not about to allow this tire to stop me from completing the race. I changed that tire in eight minutes, flat!! I was on my way again, but began to get stomach cramps and had to stop to use the bathroom--if you consider a port-a-potty a real bathroom! What I thought was going to be a 4:30 start on the run turned out to be a 5:05 pm start instead.

And so, I had six hours and 55 to run 26.2 miles. It could be done. I had run 12 minute miles in all my training runs. What I didn't take into consideration was leg cramping, back pain, bathroom stops, and the demon in my head that kept asking me if all this pain was really worth it. During the first three and a half miles I was holding a 14:36 minute mile. And from there I just kept getting slower. The next segment of my run (5.2 miles) I was doing 15:57 miles. The next eight miles was even worse at 16:14 minute miles. Tracy sat in the stands and calculated what it would take for me to finish by mignight. She ran two miles and met me on a bridge to let me know that if I kept this speed I would not finish in time. What she said to me next was the fuel I needed. "You are going to have to dig deeper than you've ever dug before. You are strong. You have worked too hard not to finish this. Now, run faster!" And I said back to her (as I continued to move in a forward direction) "I don't know if this is worth the pain." And I really felt like it at that moment. The pain was pretty intense, especially in my back. I continued to run and began to think of all the training I had done, how hard I had worked to get to this moment--and how I would handle the moment when it got dark and painful. Would I be able to rise to the occasion and move past the pain and discomfort, or would I do what I normally do--quit. There's no quitting in Ironman and that's what I kept telling myself. I knew I had to run continously and faster than I had during the prior 16 miles. As Tracy sat in the stands again, waiting for me to finish or fail, she calculated that in order to finish by midnight I would have to run the final six miles at a pace of 15:47 per mile. I picked up my pace and for whatever reason, felt better on the final lap than I did during the first two. I knew I was going to cut it close, but wasn't sure by how much. I continued running. I'm pretty sure I had some help from a couple of angels sent my way and before I knew it I was at mile 19. I began to think that maybe there was a chance I could finish. I continued running. The pain in my back diminished. And then I was at mile 22. I had a little over 4 miles left to go and an hour and 15 minutes to get there. I continued running. Mile 23 with 60 minutes left. My family sat in the stands and had no idea how fast I was running the final 6 miles--13:24 minute miles!! I was totally enjoying that last 3 miles because I knew I was going to cross that finish line.

I turned the final corner at 16 hours and 44 minutes. Running down the finisher's chute was something that I had envisioned on every run during the last 24 weeks--and it exceeded every one of my expectations. The bright lights, the music, the people cheering were all very surreal, and then I saw Tracy--with this look on her face of complete astonishment, pride, relief and love and I knew the moment was real. To be able to shave more than three minutes off of every mile during that final six can only be catergorized as unbelievable, but I had no other choice. I crossed the finish line at 16:45:49 with a little less than 15 minutes left to spare.

Number of training workouts: 288

Number of yards swam: 52,850

Number of miles on the bike: 726

Number of miles ran: 145

Being called an IRONMAN: Priceless