Full Ironman #3 Ironman Wisconsin

One week before Half Vineman and eight weeks before IMMoo I crashed my bike (through sheer stupidity - I think I just followed a black tar line right off the shoulder & proceeded to use my face as a brake) and either severely bruised or broke a rib as well as breaking my cheekbone. It still hurts to the touch - so I think I can say even without an x-ray that it was broken. I suffered through Vineman anyways, just as an exercise in pain management - it really did up my pain threshold. I hadn't been in the water at all the week before (due to stitches over my left eye) so I had no idea how bad just standing in the water would feel, let alone swimming. Anyways, I survived and arrived in Madison at 95%, I just had not gotten in all the run work that I would've liked to. A big thanks to Dr. Steve and Dr. C at TEAM Clinic for getting me to the start line. I sure hope next year has fewer mishaps!

I really wanted to qualify at Kona at this race so that I could just enjoy IMAZ in April. The Big Man upstairs had different plans for me. I prayed as usual to see my butterflies, and He didn't disappoint. This was key, especially since Mike and I didn't have anyone personally cheering for us. We thought his brother would be there when we signed up, but he ended up moving away months before the race. The run ended up being another exercise in pain management - although it had nothing to do with my previous injuries.

If you plan to do IMMoo - do yourself a favor and stay at the Monona Terrace host hotel. It was only a few yards from the finish line & just as close to transition. I was able to go down to transition in the morning, drop a few other goodies in my bags (like my inhaler & foam roll), get body-marked and then went back to my room to apply sunscreen and get my wetsuit. When I came back out, it was twilight. The moon was a beautiful, thin crescent & next to it, Venus was shining brightly. I looked up and saw Orion above this - it was going to be a great day. Time to get in the water. I positioned myself at about the 4th row, 20 feet to the left of the buoys. In hindsight, I should've moved up closer or sprinted at the start . Cannon goes off - ah - we're starting! The first lap is all about concentrating to find your space while protecting your face. I got a good jab in my right ribs (hooray - it wasn't the left!) and someone kicked my thumb, hard. I had forgotten this until I went to brush my teeth post-race. I've said it before and I'll say it again, breaststroke kick should be illegal in ironman races. It's that one kick that breaks noses, loses goggles and causes traffic jams. Not to mention it's a horribly inefficient way to sight. As in 2005, the swim was congested and I had trouble getting up to speed. I got trapped and felt like I was going too slow the first lap. Once I cleared the first buoy heading into lap 2, things spread out a bit and was able to draft until that person slowed down. I took off and was able to gap up to the next group once we hit the next buoy (I guess all those breaststroking swimmers slowed the train down - finally, an advantage to be had!). No other incidents besides narrowly missing those small buoys with the flags - I felt like those were more of a hazard than a help.

2.4mi swim: 1:02:47, 6/105 age group, 215/2209 overall

T1 - I felt great out of the water and the wetsuit strippers were fabulous as usual. I ran up the helix, soaking in the crowd along the way. Getting my bag was fast and my volunteer emptied my bag and got me water. I had her put sunscreen on me while I put on my helmet and shoes. Racebelt, inhaler into my pocket, salt tabs, go! Clip-clopped to my bike which was on the bike mount end of transition. About half-way down to my bike a giant monarch butterfly floated down at eye level & crossed my path - excellent, I am going to finish!

T1: 6:04

So I had a big smile - it was the perfect way to start my bike. After hearing Paula Newby-Frasier talk about how the bike mount at IMWI is like the Gong Show, I took my time getting on to the bike and made sure I had clipped in before descending the helix. John Nolan Drive was bumpier than a set of railroad tracks and I'm sure that it was on this section that I launched my nutrition out the back of the bike. I had even tested and retested bottles at home & thought I had found a "launch-proof" one. Wrong. I actually didn't notice when my bottle launched, I only realized it when I reached for it about 20 minutes into the ride and it wasn't there. Another butterfly floats across my path - ok - still going to finish, time for plan B on nutrition. Plan B is getting a gel at each aid station as well as Gatorade. This worked well at the first aid station and then at about two hours into my ride my stomach started to ache. This had happened at Ironman Arizona and it was due to having too many calories for the intensity I was riding at. So, I ended up pocketing the gels and never ended up eating them on the bike. My stomach recovered and I never felt hungry the remainder of the bike. My favorite sign on the bike was, $$$$ equipment, $$$$ + time training, Priceless: passing your husband. Sadly, I never got to make that a reality on race day since Mike didn't pass me on the bike. The spectators were even better than in 2005 (probably because it wasn't 95 degrees) and I started counting butterflies on the bike, but stopped after I saw too many to keep track. Large monarchs would appear whenever I had negative thoughts (stomach cramps) and helped turn my attitude back around. My favorite part of the course is Witte Rd - it's a total roller coaster and on the second loop, a big monarch floated in front of me at the start of the road & then another just as I was turning off the road. The wind started to pick up during the second loop and then there was a notable headwind on the way back to town. With the exception of the stomach cramps, I had a blast on my bike ride. In 2005 the second loop was really tough, but this time it was just as fun as the first loop. I will note, however, that the bumpy section on John Nolan was really painful in the saddle area - I was definitely ready to get off of my bike. The bottoms of my feet were midly sore so I was glad that I had asked the race official (at the race meeting) if I could leave my shoes on the bike. I took my feet out of my shoes before going up the helix and I was so happy not to have to run in my clips. The eventual W40-44 winner passed me in the middle of the helix.

112 mile bike: 6:07:39, 9/105 age group, 657/2209 overall

I was off my bike no problem and a volunteer was right there to take it. I ran barefoot to the bag room and took off my helmet while running. I got my bag and the volunteer dumped my bag, put more sunscreen on me and I put on my socks, shoes, and hat. I used my inhaler while rolling my pirformis on the foam roll (I'm sure I looked ridiculous!). I ran out, used the porto, and got started.

T2: 3:44

The first mile of the marathon felt crappy. My feet were sore and my legs a bit heavy. I decided to eat one of those gels in my pocket for a caffeine pick me up, but it resulted in immediate stomach cramping. Okay, no more gels for a while. My first mile was an 8:30, and the second mile (post gu) was a 9:30 - ugh - not good to see how much those stomach cramps are slowing me down. A guy running next to me commented, "Is that mile two?" - I said hopefully, "Did it seem long to you too?" (hoping the mile marker was just incorrectly placed). Instead he says, "No, I thought I'd be running 10 minute miles but according to my watch I'm going a lot faster!" Bummer - that was not the answer I was looking for! The cramps had subsided on the bike by sticking to water for while so at the next aid station it was water only. My hands started tingling at mile 2 this time, but my chest wasn't tight. It must be all that albuterol and caffeine. Still crampy, but getting better, I was up to 9:10 miles through mile 4. I tried coke again at mile 3 (it has saved my butt in the past), but that was immediately denied entry. Back to Gatorade only. At mile five, things were looking up. My stomach had settled and I felt good again. My feet stopped hurting and I was able to pick up the pace to between 8:40 and 8:50 per mile. This continued up to mile 10 and along the way I was able to repass a bunch of people that had passed me earlier. At the running path turn around I even yelled out to the volunteers that I felt great, gave them a big smile and that resulted in a big cheer. Unfortunately for me, my period decided to start early at mile 10 (My watch was at 1:28 for the run at that mile marker). I've done shorter races during this time of the month, but not an Ironman. Let the uteran cramping begin. In hindsight (I figured this out around mile 18) the uteran muscles were drawing blood away from stomach so that around mile 11 my stomach stopped processing calories. I was thinking, "Crap. I'm already only drinking Gatorade at every other aid station - I can't stop taking calories in all together. I won't be able to finish, or at best I'll be crawling." So, I decided to try just three ounces of Gatorade instead of the about six I had been taking in. It was during this time between miles 11 and 12 that my only live butterfly floated by on the run to remind me that I would finish. Also during this mile another runner ran up to my shoulder and asked me how we were doing (he wasn't wearing a watch). I said 9 minute miles (It was at this point) and he asked if I minded if he ran with me to pace himself. I said I didn't mind, but was really hoping that he wouldn't expect conversation because I didn't want any extra blood flowing to my diaphragm! Later, in the food tent, I saw him again and he told me that I saved his race. So it seems, just as my race was crumbling into a sorry heap of "could've beens" his was re-energized. I'm glad something positive came from my eventual demise :) Stomach cramps led to intestinal cramps. So, I had my entire set of abdominal involuntary muscles working away feverishly - leaving nothing for my legs. My heart rate fell to 120 (I wanted to average 145) and I constantly battled my will - there was no more smiling for me until the last half mile of the race. Part of me was saying, "your Kona slot is gone and you aren't going to PR, just walk." The other half said, "I can keep up these 11 minute miles - just focus on an object ahead and get to it. You never know, competitors can drop out or not show up for rolldown. Just keep going." So I forged ahead. At least I could breathe. Once of the objects I saw at mile 15 was Mike on the other side of the street - he looked to be at about mile 11. He actually shouted out because I hadn't seen him as I was deep in "the world of me" battling myself. He noted later that I didn't look so good. Just before mile 21, I saw the back of a cycling jersey on another Ironman. It was a large butterfly - Oh, how I needed to see that. I was really contemplating walking again, because with 5.5 miles to go I could only get in water with salt tabs, so I was starting to get a bit light-headed. That butterfly jersey refocused me and I thanked her for wearing it as I ran by her. The crowd brought me home the last two miles and I was finally able to smile again once I hit the Capitol building. Running down the finish chute was awesome and no one was in front of me, so I did a little jump at the finish line. I'm sure it was pathetic and my feet probably didn't even leave the ground. The catchers were great and took me to get my finisher picture and also got me a Sprite which tasted spectacular. I was kind of spaced out and felt like complete crap. I went right to the food tent even though my stomach wasn't completely settled. It was so nice not to have to visit the med tent for breathing problems.

26.2 mile run: 4:19:05 20/105 age group, 617/2209 overall

TOTAL TIME: 11:39:17 8/105 age group, 453/2209 overall

After twenty minutes of shivering in the food tent, I went straight to the hotel and stood in a hot shower for what seemed a very long time. I then brought our bikes back to Tribike and grabbed all our transition bags and brought them back to the room. All in enough time to see Mike finish - although I cut it close! So looking ahead to next time - when I see ahead on the calendar that I might be having my period during an Ironman, intervention will be mandatory! I'm sure I could take the Pill to make my luteal phase longer a month or two before the race. I don't like the pill, but a week or two on it to adjust things would totally be worth it. Guys, thank your lucky stars you don't have to think about any of this. So, I'm proud that I soldiered on to an 8th place finish, especially given the circumstances. One of these races everything will finally come together and I'll get myself to Kona. There were only 3 spots in my age group this time, and the last slot rolled down to 5th place (that's what place I was in at mile 10 on the run). Until then it'll be six weeks of whatever I feel like doing or not doing (with the exception of that evil mountain century that Mike volunteered me for in October). This is the least sore that I've been after an Ironman, so I'm hoping for a quick recovery and then I'll be back to training for IMAZ the third week of October. So the plan is to get my run times down in training - back to doing sub-7 minute repeats, so that even if I feel crappy or it's really hot, my "slow" will still be fast enough to qualify. The trick to doing this is staying injury-free for 7 months (of course, I've never been able to do this while training for an Ironman). Until April.