(To read about my trip down to Maryland and the days leading up to the race go here!)
Perfect day for 140.6 miles! |
Started in the dark, finished in the dark |
I'm a dork, but I'm cool with it |
Good morning! |
The Swim: 1:27:19
After the gun went off my group had a good 10 minutes to wait before entering the water, they try to get everyone in the water in fifteen minutes but this year it didn't happen. Finally it was my turn and I ran in. My first though was that the water was so wonderfully warm. Seventy-two degrees I believe. Warm but still wetsuit legal, perfect! As I dove in the water my second thought was BLECH, this is salty! Why did I not realize that the Choptank was salty? I didn't get a practice swim in so I had no heads up. Whoops! Oh well, it wasn't overwhelming like Maine 70.3 was so I was OK. My third thought was noooow I understand why people were concerned about jellyfish!
The swim went relatively well! Despite the fact that I swam about 320 extra meters from going too wide I came in right around my target time. The two loop course was an interesting twist, I was pretty nervous about making the turn for the second loop, but I had no trouble at all. While I was out there I only saw one jellyfish and other than getting jostled around a little bit and this one guy pushing me to go quite wide on one stretch, the swim was pretty uneventful. No one kicked me, grabbed me, swam over or under me or anything. I just focused on counting my strokes and sighting every ten.
Pretty sure I didn't stop smiling from this point on |
Before I knew it we were heading back in to the swim finish. I was really enjoying myself out there but I was looking forward to the nice flat, fast bike ride ahead of me. Once I was over the timing mats someone directed me off to the side to get my wetsuit off and man, do those guys mean business. I didn't even have time to try to help. Someone unzipped me, passed me off to someone who pulled my suit off my arms and passed me off to someone who instructed me to sit so they could yank it off the rest of the way. They handed my wetsuit back to me and shooed me over to get my bike gear bag. Once I got that I spied my mom and sister cheering me on as I ran into the tent to change.
Nothing really to note about the transition except that I saw another athlete's bajingo. Wasn't expecting that. A volunteer was there to help me with anything that I needed. I know she was just trying to be as helpful as possible but truthfully she just distracted me as she kept asking all these questions about what she could do. With my bike gear on I headed out for a beautiful 112 mile ride through scenic Maryland.
The Bike: 7:14:25
Yup, I did that |
On the way out of transition I saw my family once again. They really busted their butts to meet me all over the course. I am so grateful to have such a caring family. Being a spectator is no easy job - especially for an event that can take up to 17 hours! So, ok! I am on the bike and smiling like a fool. I felt good, my legs were happy and I was super optimistic about the ride I had ahead of me.
I mean business! |
You have about twelve miles riding through town before you get to the refuge and those went great - I got my average speed almost up to 17 MPH. I stuck to my plan of drinking some Perpetuem and water every fifteen minutes and eating two Shot bloks or a Honey Stinger Waffle every thirty minutes or so. Everything was going well until we got to the park and were riding into the wind. Wow, now I was struggling to stay at 13 MPH and I watched my average drop down to 15.3. That was pretty disheartening. I toughed it out and tried to pay attention to the gorgeous scenery all around me.
Did I mention I didn't stop smiling? See? |
After perhaps 30 miles there was a right turn and we were finally out of the wind. One more right turn a little farther down and the wind was helping us. I was flying on that section seeing 19 to 20 MPH on my bike PC. I worked my average back up and was feeling pretty good. Around mile 57, still on the first loop, I saw my mom and sister again. They had figured out how to drive out to the park without crossing the bike course at all. It was a nice little boost and very much needed because I was starting to feel the effects of sitting on a bike for 3.5 hours.
Shortly after seeing M&A I went through the high school where you get your bike special needs bag. I was low on fuel so I happily grabbed everything in the bag and set off again. Unfortunately, at this point I was starting to hurt. Something with my bike fit is off because after so many miles my feet start to hurt... maybe from pressure in the shoes from pedaling or my saddle cutting off circulation. I am not entirely sure. Every time I stood up in the saddle to relieve some pain it only made my feet complain more. I was happy that I think I spent at least 95% of the time in the aero position. When I first started training for IMMD I was so unstable on the bike that I couldn't get down into aero without risking a crash. I've come a long way.
Because screaming feet and a mad butt were not enough, I was headed back into the park for the second loop and the wind had gotten worse. Now with 60 miles behind me (not to mention a 2.4 mile swim) I was barely able to keep it at 12 MPH. I was mad. I swore a lot. I kept telling myself it wasn't that far to the right turn but it really was. At one point I heard a majestic bird call above me and watched three eagles put on a show for me in the marsh. They were probably laughing at us, silly humans, if you could fly then 112 miles would be easy! Around mile 80 I started stopping every 10 miles or so to get feeling back into my feet. I lost a bit of time here but it couldn't be helped.
Woo! |
I finally found those right turns and while they did help me pick up speed (and ultimately bring my average up to 15.8 - which I am VERY happy with) I wasn't feeling quite as peppy as I did when I started. I kept dialing it back and reminding myself that my day was far from over and I had a marathon to run after the bike. I didn't want to burn out too early. I got to the left turn to head back into town and what was there to greet me? The wind. Oh, wind... how I loathe you. Twelve more miles of swearing and I could see the bike finish and my mom and sister waiting for me! I had completed the bike with no major issues! No flats, crashes, etc. I did have one close call though - I posed for the picture above and while I may look strong and steady I lost my balance and wobbled all over the place trying to avoid hitting the photographer. Whoops! He caught the whole thing on camera too.
The Run: 6:19:23
I racked my bike and walked to the run gear bags and the tent. All I could feel was an intense pain in my feet and the bruises on my bum. I would walk plenty later on, a little bit now to recover wouldn't make much of a difference. I changed out of my gear and it felt amazing to trade my bike shoes for sneakers. At that point I was starting to feel a bit better and I jogged out of transition to start the marathon.
Holy crap, a marathon. I "ran" a marathon after everything else and I still can't believe it. Saw the family again, gave my mom a high five and shuffled down the road. I have to say while the course may have been pretty with the river in the background and beautiful shore-front houses, corn fields, etc. this run was boring. You do 2.5 loops of the same stretch of road and it was not very fun. After you've seen the same scenery 2.5 times you start to resent it.
So I headed out of town for the first loop, at this point I was still happy and the scenery was new. Unfortunately the sun was relentless and there was very little shade. The course runs north out of town along the shores of the Choptank and then turns south for this strange little turn around. You basically run to a cul-de-sac (which felt like you were running on the surface of the sun), go all the way around it but instead of continuing out and down the road you turn around and go back around the cul-de-sac. I understand they had to get the distance right but that was just pretty odd.
Once you are past the cul-de-sac you head back to transition, run between the tents and the river, and then the course winds through the Great Marsh Park on gravel paths and even over the grass in some spots - once again odd. They had a music station in the park with dancing volunteers. Even at the end of the night when I was pretty tired I always mustered enough energy to dance through that station. After the park you head towards town - and towards the finish. You reach the finish and have to turn away from it and run into town. This part was great because the turn around was right next to the brewery and all of the restaurants so people were out in force cheering every one on. You'd get high fives all the way around. I teared up here more than once. After that it's back past the finish, through the park and out for another loop.
Never actually ate that Huma, just held onto it for hours |
My plan was to run as much as I could but walk through the aid stations. This worked out well for the first 18 miles. I started just taking water at each aid station and eating a Shot Blok every mile but after the first pack of them it quickly became apparent that my body was not going to put up with that much longer. I got to the point where I had to spit one out. After that I started just taking a little of whatever real food that they had at the aid stations. Over the entire run I sampled everything to see what worked. The winning combo? Water, three grapes, and a cup of hot broth. Oh my goodness, that chicken broth was just about the best thing I've ever had. Once the sun goes down they bring that out and I was craving it every time I hit an aid station.
Still going! |
I was just starting my second loop when the sun went behind the clouds and stayed hidden until it was behind the trees. The shade was quite a relief. I just ran along, executing my plan, and chatting with people I had seen all day - including some people from the local NH tri club NEMS. I got to mile 18, saw my mom and sister one last time before the finish and that's when I just couldn't keep up running. Well, I was running and then realized that I wasn't gaining any ground on the woman in front of me who was walking. Ha! At this point I just wanted to finish. I knew I would make the 17 hour cutoff so I just started walking.
Once the sun had set they turned on forty ridiculously large spot lights and while it was sorta nice I just got to the point where I wanted darkness and peace and quiet. The loud music was no longer picking me up, it was irritating me. One thing that kept me going was as I was on my way back on the second loop I started thinking, oh, I never have to see this spot ever again. I never have to run through that hellishly hot cul-de-sac. I never have to see these stupid jokes written in chalk on the road. I never have to pass this aid station again. Yea, I got a little negative.
I must have been on my way out for the last half loop when something brightened my night. I had been talking to a guy who I'd seen all day when I looked down and saw a little snake trying to cross the path. I said, "Oh! Hold on!" and I quickly picked the little critter up and set it down in the grass away from the path. Yup, I save snakes while running insane endurance events. The guy I was with was like "Oh... you pick up snakes... well, that's cool. I have to continue on my run now" and he took off. Ha, I laughed pretty hard about that, must of freaked him out a bit.
It took absolutely forever to get to that half loop turn around. I kept thinking it would be just around the next corner but I was wrong so many times. My darkest moment was when I needed to stop and stretch for a minute and I actually said "I don't..." out loud before I mentally kicked myself and finished it with "like this" instead of "think I can finish". That was around mile 22 and like hell I was going to give up at that point. I finally found the turn around and was overjoyed to think I was truly on my way back now. I'd never see this turn around again! The entire time I was out there I thanked the volunteers and police officers every time I passed them. Now I was thanking them and telling them this would be the last time I'd see them. I seriously cannot fully express my feelings of gratitude for these people. They are out there all day long, protecting us, aiding us, and making sure we have the best day possible. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
For the last time I passed the finish chute and headed into town. The town was crazy with energy. I was able to pick it back up to a run and kept it up all the way to the finish. On the final stretch they have a coned off path on the right for the finishers and everyone else headed to the left for another loop. I was giddy with excitement when I was able to head to the right. I at least had enough wits about me to fix my hair. I may have been absolutely covered in dried sweat and smelled worse than some of the porto-lets on the course but I'd be damned if I didn't have nice hair!
I can't stop laughing at this picture |
I'm really not sure how I was still functioning |
I can't just end my report at the finish line. I crossed a little before 10:30PM and even though I was exhausted and I just wanted to be clean and dry, I knew I couldn't leave before midnight. My mom and sister were so supportive and didn't hesitate to agree to stay. I somehow was able to eat some pizza and then I had just enough time to get a massage before we headed to the finish.
During an IRONMAN, the best time to be at the finish line isn't when the first runners come through, it's when the last ones do. The energy was amazing. The finish announcer, who was Dave Downey at this point, comes down onto the red carpet to cheer the final finishers on. The music is blaring and volunteers, spectators, and other athletes line the chute. Every time a runner was in sight Dave would call out to them and the crowd would go nuts. We were all banging on the boards that line the chute and it was just insane. I didn't get choked up when I crossed the line but I sure did when I watched these others come through.
Dave was yelling over the speakers - that you could hear throughout the entire run course - to those last athletes that they had sixteen, ten, five, minutes to get to that finish line. It was then that my mom asked what happens if they don't make it and I said that they are recorded as a DNF and do not get a medal or a finishing time. She was really upset by this. I completely agree, those people were out there for 17 hours. They put their all into their race and to have victory that was so close snatched away like that is absolutely heartbreaking. Luckily, with a mere THREE minutes until the cutoff the last two runners came through. Dave called out once more and confirmed that the course was now empty. That all athletes who had stuck it out were over the finish line!
With that, the night was over. We had a ten minute walk back to the car, which I handled pretty well I think, and then it was back to the house to shower, get into PJs and pass out.
Next up, post-race! Somehow I managed to walk all over an island in search of wild horses.