Full Ironman #5 - Ironman Arizona November 2008

We arrived in Tempe Thursday afternoon, only this time our faithful chauffer & home stay profferer was also getting ready to race. Graeme picked us up from the airport & we proceeded to register and get our bikes from Tribike transport. No one wanted to be seen with me and my many strips of kinesiotape (thank you, Dr. Steve, you really are the best). Mike twice asked me to change into pants before going to eat. I didn't listen - he counted funny looks & I didn't care. That tape works, so I don't care what it looks like. As Mike pointed out, if triathletes start qualifying while wearing the tape, everyone's going to be wearing the tape no matter how ridiculous it looks hanging out the back of your shorts. Just look at compression socks - there certainly was no shortage of triathletes wearing those & they're not exactly fashion statements.

I was a bit more nervous than usual on Saturday, probably because I've had 2 crappy runs in my last two IMs, and really didn't want to add a third. However, come race morning, my fears had morphed into the realization that it really couldn't get any worse than my race in April (okay - this is debatable). So, I was looking forward to having a good day. In the amateur video one older age grouper described IM race morning perfectly: "It's just like Christmas morning. The package is wrapped and under the tree & now it's time to find out what's in the box." Ironman racing is so much different from 70.3s and less. In shorter races your fitness carries you through, but in Ironman you'll more likely have some sort of issue: mechnical, nutritional, muscular, intestinal - you name it, it can happen in Ironman. Just because you had everything figured out for the last Ironman really counts for very little in the next one. Every race is different & every race holds a surprise in store that is completely unpredictable, even in hindsight! So your nutrition worked perfectly in training? Doesn't mean it will when you're racing.

Got to the transition area early Sunday morning & had plenty of time to get everything set. Got in the water at about 6:45, and was up to the front just after the pros went off (they start at 6:50). This time Mike and I decided to start right of the center buoy, as we would attempt to cut the tangent on the swim (the river bends right). It was one of the least violent Ironman starts that I've had, and I ended up with clear water ahead (well, this IS the swill-hole of Tempe Towne Lake - "clear" does not describe the water itself). The good news was, I wasn't really getting hit or swum over, the bad news was I had no draft. I just concentrated on swimming to the second column of the rural st bridge and tried to get comfy. I found myself being extremely worried about swallowing any water & was constantly panicking about it as I have a bad habit from pool swimming of keeping my mouth open. I did not need a repeat of April's knifing stomach pains. l swallowed a couple teensy amounts of water along the way and hoped it wouldn't matter. With about 20 minutes to go I started to get really cold. Mike Reilly announced at the race start that the water temp was 64 , but it felt a lot colder, closer to 60. I should've had a hot head on, but when I was packing I never dreamed that the water would be so friggin' cold. I was able to catch a draft behind some guy & it was warmer behind him than in the open water. I briefly wondered WHY it was warmer behind him, but quickly pushed that thought from my mind - it didn't matter, I was starting to shiver now. I tried to get my kick going to get some blood to my feet, but my legs were not interested in kicking at all. The last bit of the swim felt like an eternity.  Were the stairs really that far away from the last turn buoy? Somehow my feet worked up the stairs and I saw my time - 1:03, I was hoping to be quicker, but instead was consistent. In all 5 ironmans my swim times have been either a 1:02 or 1:03.

2.4 mile swim : 1:03:07

My transition started out a bit slow. I was frozen, so the wetsuit strippers had to do all the work for me. Took a bit longer than usual, but then I was on my way to get my bag. Big smile as I was actually running (as opposed to the hobble I was doing in April). Glad I put red electrical tape on the handles of my bags - I didn't even have to check numbers, just looked for the handles. Ran into the tent & everything else went as usual: shoes, belt, helmet, glasses, inhaler in pocket. I also had gone to Walgreens the morning before and had gotten a $3 pair of little boys stretch gloves to wear on the bike. They were perfect - even had little eagles on them to remind me to soar in the wind. I've discovered that gloves work better to keep me warm than arm warmers & there's the added bonus that they're a million times easier to put on over semi-wet skin. I had tried putting on arm warmers at an early season sprint race (Treeathlon), and promised myself that I would NEVER do that again - what a bumblef*ck. So, I put on my gloves, ran out of the tent, stopped to get some more sunscreen, and then ran to my bike, which I luckily remembered where I had racked it. Ran out with my trusty steed and was on my way. I smiled at the butterfly sticker that Daria put on my handlebars.

T1 (swim to bike transition) 5:25

The first loop on the bike in Arizona has always been fun, and today was no different. There was a mild headwind on the way out on the Beeline & so I looked forward to the tailwind on the way back in. My heart rate was right where I wanted it and amazingly I was absorbing my nutrition and fluids - woo hoo! In the two previous ironmans I launched my nutrition early in the bike leg out of the back water bottle holder. This time I was using an aero bottle on the downtube so that I wouldn't lose it. It worked fabulously. I passed the faster swimmers early in first loop & got passed by the eventual winner early on the second loop. I had no idea that I was in second place, I figured there were still a good 4 women in front of me. I thought the run would be my strongest point & I'd do most of my passing there so it was a surprise post-race to see how much my biking has improved. I didn't see my first butterfly until just before the last uphill before the Beeline turn around. I was starting to wonder if they'd abandoned me on the day, but it seems I just didn't need them until then. Whenever my head starts to get negative, my little winged cheerleaders appear. It was a little black butterfly that ambled in front of me just as I was griping to myself about climbing up a hill into the headwind. The butterfly gave me some extra power and I passed a whole heap of people on the uphill. The second half of this loop was fun, as I had the help of a tailwind back to the Mill Ave turn around.  So, as I turned around for the 3rd loop, I was greeted with a headwind, but it seemed to be dying down. I saw my second butterfly at the same spot as the first, just before the last hill on the Beeline. I powered up the hill this time - just after having a brief conversation with a guy I was passing that "hey, the wind has died down, cool". Then, just as I turned around I discovered where the wind had gone. Sometime during the second loop the wind did a 180. Crap! What is THIS tomfoolery? Are you kidding? I have to do the last 18 miles in a headwind? But I was SO looking forward to a tailwind - and then, a butterfly ambled across the road.  Okay, I gained some perspective - everyone's got the same headwind in, just be the eagle. During my 86 mile time trial out on Canada road two weeks before, it was crazy windy and a falcon was playing in the wind just about 10 meters in front of me. I thought of that now - the headwind wasn't much compared to that day. I saw three more butterflies on the Beeline, all at times when my thoughts were turning negative regarding the wind or how long it was taking to do the last 18 miles.

The scenery in Arizona is a bit surreal. Giant cacti and big craggy rocks. I've never been in a desert but for this race, and so it feels a bit like I'm in a road runner cartoon. Ironman certainly can treat you like Wile E. Coyote. Just when you think you have it all figured out an anvil comes out of nowhere to crush you - and then your dynamite backfires. We never learn that there is no way to be entirely prepared. Like my husband Mike says, race time calculators are neat and all, but they are entirely useless. I came to find out later that Mike hit a manhole with half a mile to go in the first loop - he hit it with such force (this is impressive) that he stripped the bolts that connected them to the stem. He barely avoided doing a Hincapie (for all of you non-cyclists, Hincapie's steering tube snapped during the 2006 Paris-Rubaix where he flew over the handlebars and ended his race with a severely separated his shoulder) and was lucky to only be half a mile from the Landis cyclery repair tent. They didn't have the right sized bolts, so they had to jimmy the handlebars back on & he had to ride the last loop entirely on his aerobars, without brakes because he couldn't put any weight on the handlebars. He handled the whole situation perfectly (no pun intended), and only lost :10. Sadly, that meant he wouldn't be passing me on the bike. I did get to see him about 2 miles after the turn around coming the opposite way - we both gave a little wave (yay! I actually saw him) -thought he might catch me, but it didn't happen. Graeme also shouted at me somewhere on the Beeline coming from the opposite direction - a got a small glimpse and I think I shouted his name? I have the severe inability to recognize people I know while I'm racing. I think it's a combination of tunnel vision & just plain brain vacation. With the exception of a few mantras repeated throughout the day, my brain takes a vacation during extended workouts. Sorry, Rachael, I didn't see or hear you the entire race even though I was looking for you! My mantra for this race was "I will get stronger as the race gets longer". Seemed to work on the bike as my third loop was faster than my second even with the wind shift which gave me a headwind for 3/4 of the last loop (albeit much milder than my previous two races here). Woo hoo! Looks like I just squeaked under my goal time for the bike which was 5:36 or 20mph. I thought of everyone watching back at home as I cruised over the last mat towards T2 & then remembered to get my feet out of my shoes.

112 mile bike: 5:34:04

The bike catchers are angels from heaven. Thank God I don't have to remember where to rack my bike. Oh, so, I forgot to mention that on the last 3 miles of the bike, as I stood up on a corner to stretch my legs, my left quad cramped up where it inserts into the pelvis. I remembered the kinesiotape strip that I had put in my T2 bag just in case some of my tape loosened up during the race. I was saved! So, in every 70.3 or Ironman race, I always manage to have a full bladder in T2 no matter how much I peed earlier in the bike. This time I just planned on grabbing my T2 bag and going straight into the porto with it. I tossed my aero helmet off in front of the loo (I've worn in there before and it is a total hazard - constantly banging it on the walls) and then proceeded to put on my shoes (I was going to run my first marathon without socks as they always get wet & cause blisters - I liberally applied vaseline along my blister-prone spots inside the shoe). Put on my hat, grabbed my helmet as I opened the door and handed everything to the volunteer saying "I'm done - just stick my helmet in the bag - thank you, you rock!!"

T2 (bike to run transition) 2:45

Uh-oh. Running didn't feel so good. I was fully intending my run to be my secret weapon, but my legs weren't firing. I think my quads got mega tight on the bike & they didn't like being stretched out on the run. Luckily, the kinesiotape I had put on my upper quad quieted it down - I had no problem with it cramping again at all. I couldn't help but wonder if I had put the kinesiotape on my quads too (it had it on my psoas, gracilis, hamstrings, pirformis - on both legs - and also had it on my left lower achilles) that maybe they wouldn't be so sore :) So, the result was very heavy legs and a stomach that didn't feel quite right. My heart rate was right where I planned on having it (right around 145), but I wasn't hitting anywhere close to the 8:30 pace I wanted to be hitting. I started out doing an 8:45, then 8:55, then 9:10, and I was starting to get frustrated as 4 women have now passed me in my age group (although I only saw 3 go by). It was right about then that a butterfly went floating by in front of me. Remember that mantra "you'll get stronger as the race gets longer". Okay, stay here at this heart rate, don't push through this, your legs & stomach can come back, they did in April. Those runners can come back to you at the end of the race. The numbers weren't getting any better on my watch. I stopped looking - no positive mojo there. I also remember thinking "Damn, this is hard. Why didn't I remember how hard this is?" Thought I could run a 3:45, HA! Somehow all those runner's endorphins I got in training totally blocked the memory of Ironman pain. And then another butterfly came by, this time a big orange & black one and flew directly in front of me for awhile. Okay, big smile again, my cheerleaders are back! I saw my last butterfly during the most difficult section of the run, around mile 14. This reminded me that in April, my stomach settled and I was able to jog again at mile 15 (just after the hill). My attitude brightened and I began to imagine myself running faster at the mile 15 mark. Lo and behold, my stomach felt better and I started to run faster. I had been going as slow as 10:30 miles, and now picked it up to around 9:00 miles. I was starting to pass more people and got lots of encourgement from the crowd during the mile before the start of my last loop.

I felt a bit of relief wash over me - I was wearing a hat that said "Stay Strong" and then had my chiropractor, Dr. Steve Capobianco's website on it (symmetrysport.com) - I would have looked pretty stupid walking at the end of the race while wearing a "stay strong" hat. Phew. I could see the eventual 7th place woman up in front of me, I passed her with 7 miles to go and said, "come with me, let's do this Kona thing together". No response. She must've been in survival mode - what I refer to as "the world of me". Luckily, I didn't have to go there this race. I then ran into another rough spot - my increased speed required more fluids - I was a bit dehydrated and started to get a side stitch. I decided to walk through the next aid station and make sure I drank a good 8oz of gatorade. This helped, but the stitch was still there, again I walked the next aid station and downed 8 oz of gatorade - this time I had success. The stitch went away and I really started to crank up the speed. I felt GREAT. Hey, I felt GREAT - woo hoo!!! I hadn't felt great the entire race. I got a nice rush of endorphins and went to work on catching the other women in my age group who had caught me much earlier in the run. I knew one of them wasn't feeling well - I heard her tell her coach or friend as she ran by me back at mile one. She had to be within reach. So, over the Mill Ave bridge and into the crowd, only one more loop of a figure 8 left! I felt like I was on cruise control and was picking off people left and right. It had kinda turned into a death march out there on the third loop - I certainly had been part of that in April. WIth about 3.5 miles to go, I spotted two of the women in my age group that had passed me before mile 1, they were running maybe 10 feet apart, I decided to go by them sprinting, since there was a curve coming up - I could slow down after I was out of sight. I wanted to make them think "no way" so they wouldn't try and stay with me. It worked! I had no idea how many women were still in front. I knew that the eventual 3rd place was in front of me, she passed me early on the second loop before I got my mojo back. I let myself believe that I was going to qualify in the last 2-3 miles. I ran by Mike and I didn't even notice (and mind you, at 6'4" he's kind of hard to miss) - he shouted after me I heard him say, "I love you!" and I threw my hand in the air to wave (and briefly thought what a freakin' space cadet I was, that I could miss seeing my husband), and then Graeme who was a couple miles back shouted at me from across the way - I was on a mission, so there was no stopping now. I pretty much turned myself inside out the last 2 miles & ended up averaging 8:30 miles for the last 6 miles of the marathon. Better late than never! It's a good thing that I never hit the wall, and I really did get stronger as the race got longer! It will be so good to have that confidence going into the next race. I had a big sh*t-eating grin on my face as the trail split off to the finish chute. I soaked up the finish & had a good time high-fiving kids all the way to the line. I had my Ironman PR by 18 minutes and was officially a member of the sub-11 ironman club. Oh - and the lack of socks worked - no blisters - not even the start of a tiny one. The Zoot racers were awesome. This was also the first marathon where my feet didn't hurt. I'm attributing that to being sockless - I was able to keep them cool by pouring water on them & I never got the hot foot that has plagued me in the past.

26.2 mile run: 4:05:03

Race Total: 10:50:22, 4/105 starters for my 35-39 age group

So after I crossed the line I got some food and sat down (Moses, was that painful). The only thing I could eat were the french fries which I covered in salt. In between bites I put my head on the table and wondered why I felt so crappy - I'm not moving anymore, why is my body still crabbing? How is it that I was just running? - the edorphins were fading fast and the pain was setting in big time. I was taking a hit on my rescue inhaler every 5 minutes for about a half hour. I was secretly wishing that someone would take pity and carry me to the med tent. Then, when this didn't happen, I was trying to materialize a porthole to the med tent , but I sadly gave up on this fantasy. Finally, I started to feel partially human, so I mustered up the energy to drag myself towards the morning bags to get my dry clothes. I was freezing. Those space blankets only cover so much. Thank God I ran into Rachael. Rachael was kind enough to let me borrow her jacket until I found mine. Mind you, I didn't exactly smell like roses at this point. She also helped me carry my bags & bike. Thank you Rachael!! You had no idea what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Graeme, did you?

After I changed clothes, I talked to my mom and my sister, Pam, who told me that I was fourth. Hrm - does that mean I qualified or not? When I did the math, my age group made up 5% of the field, and 5% of 72 kona age group slots = 3.6. Does that mean there are 3 or 4? Hell. Mike suggested since I earned .6 of a slot that I should just leave my head at home. Ugh. Guess I would have to wait until the next morning to find out. Thank you, everyone, that was watching at home. I thought of you guys every time I went over a timing mat! I did get to see Mike finish & Graeme finished shortly after Mike. After I played sherpa for Mike (yes, I was carrying 6 bags, and some nice guy had pity on me & helped me carry them for a bit) we dragged ourselves slowly back to the hotel. I always have well-meaning intentions to make it back to the finish line between 11-12, but it hasn't happened yet. Not even at Wisconsin last year when our hotel was less than a 100yds from the finish. This time I wasn't hungry & that was good since the hotel was out of ice cream. It was really bizarre that I wasn't hungry. I guess all those water-only no calorie workouts were effective. In the morning I saw the beautiful number 4 next to the W35-39 age group. listing the number of Kona slots. Yes!!! In the Kona slot tent the "clerks" were Michael Lovato and Heather Fuhr, how cool is that? It was so nice to have my name be on the top of the dividing line for Kona slots instead of underneath. I've been first loser twice by 2 minutes and change, so this was sweet. I also had fun going up on stage at the awards - I especially enjoyed talking to the other women that qualified. The woman who got second did so in her first Ironman - not too shabby! I'm looking forward to seeing them all in Kona again :) Before that Mike, myself, Megumi, and Stewart are all doing Ironman CDA in Idaho next June. I'm looking forward to having fun at that race with no pressure (which, of course, I only put on myself).

Extra kisses to Mike for giving me a stern talking to about setting the bar higher - you helped me believe that I could go faster :)

Thanks again to Graeme for putting up with us - you went from cameraman to Ironman! Congratulations - put all you learned back in the bank for the next one. Louisville 2010, anyone?