The Road to an Ironwoman, done!
What a tremendously long day. We arrived at KR's place at 4:30 AM. Her place was nicely positioned next to the swim start so we rendezvoused there and began the process of dropping off our special needs bags then heading to the transition to put food and drink on our bikes. We were done by 5:45 AM (trust that these two points are not close in proximity to one another) and we headed back to KR's for some last minute stretching and to put our wetsuits on. We were on the beach to see the women's pro swim start at 6:25. By 6:30 we were in the water for our 7 AM start. I was not too pleased that we had to get out and tread cold water for 30 minutes but the race officials were adamant that everyone be positioned early.
The swim
I lost KR in our swim out to the course. Everyone looks alike in their goggles and cap. Nonetheless I positioned myself toward the front and in the middle. I tried to find a school of women to swim with but with so few in the race this was impossible. The cannon went off and I put my head down and started swimming. Immediately I was swept up in the draft of 2,200 competitors which meant for the first .6 miles I was swimming but with very little effort on my part. At the turn I found someone's feet and stayed on them drafting the entire length of the return. I popped out of the water on to the beach heading for my second loop at 43 minutes, slightly better than I anticipated.
In the first loop I had my goggles pulled off twice, once on the way out, once on the return. It was odd, I was swimming along calmly and in a flash my goggles were off. Mercifully they were under my cap so while they did not cover my eyes they were still on my head. I did not panic when this happened, it happened at my last race so I knew to just calmly take a minute and get them back on. Last night I discovered that one of those incidents created a black eye but during the swim, I felt no pain.
In my second loop I lost the feet I was drafting off o and swam too wide. I kept trying to cut back but kept drifting. I hate when that happens. My total swim time was as predicted one hour and 30 minutes exactly. This despite the fact that for three-quarters of the swim my teeth were chattering uncontrollably. The water temperature was maybe 69-70 and the air had not hit 50 degrees.
The bike
Out of the swim the wetsuit strippers helped me get out of my wetsuit and I headed to transition teeth chattering. I had to have assistance getting changed because I was shaking uncontrollably and then some volunteers spent a few minutes rubbing my arms and legs to try and warm me. Heading out on the bike I was freezing and continued to shake for the first 15 miles.
I had the bike course mentally broken down into 5 parts: the downhill, the road to Jay, the road to Haselton, the "finger", and the Wilmington to LP stretch. My plan was to be conservative in my first loop, settle into the bike, feel out my legs. No one hill is difficult but cumulatively the hills can destroy you. Once I was off the downhill (where my heart rate is pumped out of fear) the road to Jay is tiny rollers that you can stay in aero and catch speed on. The turn toward Haselton features a 3 mile uphill, I was passing folks there like they were standing still. The finger is more difficult on the way out due to grade and rollers, it is quick on the return. As I was entering the finger, KR was coming out. I knew then I could not makeup the hour of distance between us for a joint finish but I was so pleased that she had killed the swim and was doing the same on the bike. My favorite part of the course is the 12 miles of hills back into Lake Placid. I was spinning like I was on the Tour de France. When I reached the top, unlike in Ironman camp, my legs felt great so I decided to hit the second loop a little harder and leave it all out there.
That plan changed as a result of two things: an accident and the wind. The wind had picked up and we had a crosswind on the downhill that was pretty strong. A guy in front of me wiped out on the second part of the downhill, I think he was blown over. It was rather serious as they were administering oxygen to him when I was able to ride by. I didn't look but I did mentally file that in my caution drawer. I was incredibly pleased to get to the bottom of the hill unharmed. The road to Jay gave us a headwind which cut my speed by 3 mph, that kind of stunk. The finger was uneventful until the end. A woman in front of me must have looked at her watch or something and just fell right in my path. I was able to avoid her but I stopped to make sure she was ok, pull her bike to the side, find her some shade while one of the other competitors rode ahead to get medical aid. She had some minor road rash on her face but it was an important lesson that because of your fatigue it is the simple things that can cause you to fall. The hills coming back to town were more difficult but I was pleased to still be spinning and passing folks.
The run
This can be more accurately described as two runs. The first half of the marathon went as planned. My timing was perfect, I walked through each aid station. Since the last part of the bike, I was having difficulty eating and drinking. Despite this, my stomach felt fine but I could not really swallow so nutrition was a huge concern. I also was concerned that I was not sweating so I had some coaching on the course. My coach thought everything was fine. She felt I was sweating some and that the cooler temperatures of the evening were why I was not sweating as much as I thought I should. As long as I felt well, which I did, everything seemed in order. That lasted maybe another mile before I was definitely sick. From there on out I could run in spurts of a half mile before getting the dry heaves, pleasant. I ended up doing a walk run combination with Steve, a skeleton sledder from Wilmington who works for the Bobsled Federation. This was his first triathlon--yes, I said triathlon.
On the run course, I ran into my high school PE instructor/coach who volunteers at the race every year. Once she knew I was competing she met me out on River Rd or what I refer to as Death Valley. This is a long stretch where there are no spectators. She came out and gave me encouragement and a big hug which really lifted me to get it done.
The finish
While the run was not pretty and did not go as planned, I am a finisher. I was joined in the last 100 yards by my nieces who ran with me across the finish line. A lot of folks were watching on-line and called us to say that they saw me finish. What an accomplishment. Having gutted out a very long day I feel incredibly strong mentally and physically. Would I do it again? Yes, definitely but as for now I will enjoy my accomplishment and let the challenge of this event and the incredible amount of training fall to a distant memory.
Was it worth it? Pain is temporary, pride lasts forever.......you betcha.
The swim
I lost KR in our swim out to the course. Everyone looks alike in their goggles and cap. Nonetheless I positioned myself toward the front and in the middle. I tried to find a school of women to swim with but with so few in the race this was impossible. The cannon went off and I put my head down and started swimming. Immediately I was swept up in the draft of 2,200 competitors which meant for the first .6 miles I was swimming but with very little effort on my part. At the turn I found someone's feet and stayed on them drafting the entire length of the return. I popped out of the water on to the beach heading for my second loop at 43 minutes, slightly better than I anticipated.
In the first loop I had my goggles pulled off twice, once on the way out, once on the return. It was odd, I was swimming along calmly and in a flash my goggles were off. Mercifully they were under my cap so while they did not cover my eyes they were still on my head. I did not panic when this happened, it happened at my last race so I knew to just calmly take a minute and get them back on. Last night I discovered that one of those incidents created a black eye but during the swim, I felt no pain.
In my second loop I lost the feet I was drafting off o and swam too wide. I kept trying to cut back but kept drifting. I hate when that happens. My total swim time was as predicted one hour and 30 minutes exactly. This despite the fact that for three-quarters of the swim my teeth were chattering uncontrollably. The water temperature was maybe 69-70 and the air had not hit 50 degrees.
The bike
Out of the swim the wetsuit strippers helped me get out of my wetsuit and I headed to transition teeth chattering. I had to have assistance getting changed because I was shaking uncontrollably and then some volunteers spent a few minutes rubbing my arms and legs to try and warm me. Heading out on the bike I was freezing and continued to shake for the first 15 miles.
I had the bike course mentally broken down into 5 parts: the downhill, the road to Jay, the road to Haselton, the "finger", and the Wilmington to LP stretch. My plan was to be conservative in my first loop, settle into the bike, feel out my legs. No one hill is difficult but cumulatively the hills can destroy you. Once I was off the downhill (where my heart rate is pumped out of fear) the road to Jay is tiny rollers that you can stay in aero and catch speed on. The turn toward Haselton features a 3 mile uphill, I was passing folks there like they were standing still. The finger is more difficult on the way out due to grade and rollers, it is quick on the return. As I was entering the finger, KR was coming out. I knew then I could not makeup the hour of distance between us for a joint finish but I was so pleased that she had killed the swim and was doing the same on the bike. My favorite part of the course is the 12 miles of hills back into Lake Placid. I was spinning like I was on the Tour de France. When I reached the top, unlike in Ironman camp, my legs felt great so I decided to hit the second loop a little harder and leave it all out there.
That plan changed as a result of two things: an accident and the wind. The wind had picked up and we had a crosswind on the downhill that was pretty strong. A guy in front of me wiped out on the second part of the downhill, I think he was blown over. It was rather serious as they were administering oxygen to him when I was able to ride by. I didn't look but I did mentally file that in my caution drawer. I was incredibly pleased to get to the bottom of the hill unharmed. The road to Jay gave us a headwind which cut my speed by 3 mph, that kind of stunk. The finger was uneventful until the end. A woman in front of me must have looked at her watch or something and just fell right in my path. I was able to avoid her but I stopped to make sure she was ok, pull her bike to the side, find her some shade while one of the other competitors rode ahead to get medical aid. She had some minor road rash on her face but it was an important lesson that because of your fatigue it is the simple things that can cause you to fall. The hills coming back to town were more difficult but I was pleased to still be spinning and passing folks.
The run
This can be more accurately described as two runs. The first half of the marathon went as planned. My timing was perfect, I walked through each aid station. Since the last part of the bike, I was having difficulty eating and drinking. Despite this, my stomach felt fine but I could not really swallow so nutrition was a huge concern. I also was concerned that I was not sweating so I had some coaching on the course. My coach thought everything was fine. She felt I was sweating some and that the cooler temperatures of the evening were why I was not sweating as much as I thought I should. As long as I felt well, which I did, everything seemed in order. That lasted maybe another mile before I was definitely sick. From there on out I could run in spurts of a half mile before getting the dry heaves, pleasant. I ended up doing a walk run combination with Steve, a skeleton sledder from Wilmington who works for the Bobsled Federation. This was his first triathlon--yes, I said triathlon.
On the run course, I ran into my high school PE instructor/coach who volunteers at the race every year. Once she knew I was competing she met me out on River Rd or what I refer to as Death Valley. This is a long stretch where there are no spectators. She came out and gave me encouragement and a big hug which really lifted me to get it done.
The finish
While the run was not pretty and did not go as planned, I am a finisher. I was joined in the last 100 yards by my nieces who ran with me across the finish line. A lot of folks were watching on-line and called us to say that they saw me finish. What an accomplishment. Having gutted out a very long day I feel incredibly strong mentally and physically. Would I do it again? Yes, definitely but as for now I will enjoy my accomplishment and let the challenge of this event and the incredible amount of training fall to a distant memory.
Was it worth it? Pain is temporary, pride lasts forever.......you betcha.
posted by Liz @ 6:52 AM
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