So, my last entry had predicted a finish time of fifteen hours and and 41 minutes, but what I had NOT predicted was that on mile 15 of the bike leg an unknown assailant would crash into me from behind (but I'll get to that later).
Let's start from the beginning. The head cold that I wrote about, and the one that Tracy tried to convince me was allergies, turned out to be quite the hindrance in getting any sleep the night before the race. The green crap I was blowing out my nose indicated that the day was going to be a bit more challenging than I had anticipated. We set the alarm for 4:00am and ate a "triathlete's breakfast" which consisted of raisin toast, almond butter, bananas and an abundance of coffee--you can figure out what the coffee is for, right? Never a good idea to start a 15+ hour endurance event feeling the need to...well, you know. We were out the door and ready to go down to the venue at 5:30am. My head was heavily congested, but I just thought being in the water would clear anything and everything out! And it did just that, the only problem was that I was in the water 20 minutes longer than I had anticipated--man, that water was COLD! Being in a tub of 63 degree water for twenty minutes does NOT compare with swimming in 61 degree (yes, it was 61) for two hours!! The colder I felt, the slower I swam. Interesting how the body naturally tries to conserve energy when it's in a state of SHOCK! After about one hour and 20 minutes in the water, that familiar sensation (that I felt in 2009) of chills and borderline hypothermia began to creep down into my wetsuit. All I wanted was to get the hell out of the water and on to the bike. After two hours of water torture, I was finally lifted out of the water and instructed to lie down on a mat where not one, but three volunteers peeled my wetsuit from my shivering body. With numb feet, I ran the 100 yards over to the changing tent where more volunteers would help me into my bike clothes. The changing tent was heated, which made it exponentially harder to actually leave. But after 12 minutes of cycling preparations, out I went. The bike course at Ironman Arizona has always been one that I have enjoyed--it's relatively flat and there's usually a nice tailwind coming back in after the turn-around. But this bike ride would not be enjoyable at all. Don't get me wrong, the first 15 miles was pretty good. And then in an instant, a complete stranger who was not paying attention to the road, ruined six months of training. I was traveling at about 14.5 miles per hour when all of a sudden....BAM! Someone hits the back of my bike sending me crashing to the ground! I landed on my right side, hip first, then shoulder, then head. I had no idea if I was too injured to continue, all I knew was that my shoulder was bleeding, my ankle had a nice gash in it and my hip had some lovely shades of road rash. The unknown cyclist who hit me from behind got an earful of expletives from me and then took off on his bike, not caring if I was hurt or otherwise. I was lying in the middle of the road for a few minutes before a woman stopped to help me. She moved my bike to the side of the road and told me she would flag down someone from the race crew. It seemed like an eternity before they got there, but I needed them because my bike was not operational. Both wheels were tweaked and my seat had manged to get turned to the left. I knew I was okay to continue to the race, but they would not let me continue until the medics arrived and cleared me. I was trying to explain to the guy, "you don't understand, I'm not that fast to begin with...I need all the time I can get to finish this damn thing!" After spending 20 minutes too long in the frigid waters of Tempe Town Lake, I knew that beating the bike cut off at 5:30 pm was going to be a struggle. The bike crash was not the only thing that made this bike ride less than enjoyable. As I mentioned before, the winds are usually heading in the same direction when heading back into town, which makes the slight 11 mile decline a great place to make up any lost time. But on this particular day, the winds were in the opposite direction, which meant my 11 mile slight incline was super challenging. Oh, and I forgot to mention that due to the bike collision, I no longer had a functioning cyclometer. I was trying to calculate what my average speed was by timing mile markers. Needless to say, I don't think I calculated very well! The good news about the bike leg is that I did not get any flat tires this time around! So after three 37.5 mile loops I finally pulled in at 5:20pm, missing the cutoff by 10 minutes. Now I just had the run to contend with...
I tried to calculate how fast I needed to run in able to finish by midnight. And what I came up with was this: "run fast, Sue." I actually felt great during the entire first loop, I think because I was so excited to be out of the water and off the bike! But the second loop was where I visited the "dark side." That's the place where everything is against you, including your own thoughts. I just wanted to stop running. I was kind of hoping that I would miss the 10:15pm cutoff, just so I could stop. As I began the third loop I saw my family, Tracy had finished the race at 14 hours and 15 minutes, and they told me to "dig deep." I'm like, "I have been! I don't think I can dig any deeper." And I really thought I couldn't. But something weird takes over on that final 8.7 miles. Every time I slowed down and experienced a dark thought, a different force took over and told me, "NO! Keep running, Sue. Just keep running until they make you stop!" And that's what I did. I knew I was going to barely make it. I had to run 11 minute miles for the final 6 miles to even come close to finishing. When I had a mile to go and only 12 minutes to get there, I thought, "maybe." I turned the corner to the Finisher's Chute and saw Tracy waiting for me. "Did I make it?" I asked. All she said was "keep going." And so I ran down the last 100 yards with people screaming from the stands. As I passed under the finisher's clock, it read: 17:05:04. The man working the finish line helped me to a chair where I began to sob. Missed it by 5 minutes and 4 seconds. And then something miraculous happened...the same man came over to tell me that since the race began 6 minutes passed the scheduled start, the two referees who were at the finish, declared me a finisher! Someone came over and placed the coveted medal around my neck and told me I was an Ironman.
This race, more than any other, taught me how to push through obstacles (and we all have them). I wouldn't have cared if they declared me a finisher or not (well, that's a half truth), I know how difficult yesterday was and I pushed through anyway. We all have this ability, it's finding the right circumstances to test it. A lot of people have told Tracy and I that we are an inspiration to them. Well, you all (those dedicated blog followers) are my inspiration. THANK YOU so much for all of your love, support and encouragement while I have embarked on this LAST Ironman race. Which by the way, was nothing less than EPIC!
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