Better late than never - Muncie 70.3

It finally came! Muncie 70.3 37.2. Yes, 37.2. I finished, and here's the summary.

I was disappointed that the expo for my first IM70.3 was pretty small and quite pathetic. But that didn't detour me from buying a bike jersey, visor, tshirt, coffee mug and water bottle. (no fucking wonder I'm broke.) I sat in the crowded athlete's meeting and the race director nonchalantly walks up to the podium and says it's been changed to a modified olympic. The room goes silent, but we're all thinking he's joking. Um, no, he keeps talking about the shortened course. Immediately my heart sinks. All that training, all that hype, my parents and best friend have flown in. Seriously, they've flown from the east and west coast to see me do a fucking oly? Wait, I paid $225 for a fucking oly? Most expensive oly E-V-E-R.

I also have to point out that everyone I introduced my mom to, she started by saying "nice to meet you, I swear she didn't get her bad mouth from me." bwhahaha

So they shortened it because the predicted weather for the race was 115 with the heat index. In all honesty, it was a smart decision. There's not only for the athletes (which triathletes are not known for taking a break when they should stop because they are pushing heat stroke), but for all the volunteers and spectators. Races wouldn't happen without the wonderful volunteers. Thanks to my parents, and wonderful friends Andrea, Brian and Charlie for volunteering at the race!!! :)

So to prove that triathletes are terrible at knowing when to take a breather, yours truly developed a terrible cough 3 days prior to the race. I even had a fever Friday night and probably had no business racing. But I did anyway, I never claimed to be smart.

The swim went well. I think it was longer than a mile according to my garmin (I hugged the hell out of the inner buoys). I was happy that I kept up with the wave fairly well for most of the course. Although it's always depressing to see another color swim cap come through the wave. and another. and another. The entire swim my shorts kept coming off! I couldn't get from one buoy to the next without having to pull my shorts up off my upper thighs. Halfway through I even tread water so I could tie them tighter. Still didn't work. I'm just glad I didn't lose my shorts, that would have been one shitty T1 time. And I'm pretty sure you get DQ'd for nudity.

I get on my bike and take off onto the hills out of the area. I realize something is flapping against my leg. Fuck me running, it's my bento box. It had come unstrapped when I transported my bike that morning and I forgot to check it (I took the front wheel off for the first time and turned the handle bars different in the car). If I kept going I was going to lose most of my nutrition and salt stick tablets. I wasn't coordinated enough to fix it while pedaling, because of course it was jimmy-rigged, so I had to get off and fix it. Well getting back into "traffic" on the bike course was ridiculous so I waited for like a good minute before I could "merge" back on course.

The bike course was fast! The first large flat I was about 25 mph. The second time I came through I had fallen to about 15. At this point it dawned on me that I wasn't sweating.. yikes! I picked up some extra hydration and concentrated on getting my hydration back on track. By this time the heat is starting to creep up. I would take a drink of water and then take a swig to shoot back down my shirt to cool me down. It worked but I'm sure was quite the sight to see. I ended up with more than 16 on the bike, but should have been 18 or 19. I was pissed coming in and Andrea later told me I did not look good at all coming back in from the bike. It was pretty fun to have two of my best friends at the bike dismount giving dismount instructions, to see my dad inside transition cheering me on and to get a glass of water from my mom before heading to rack my bike up :-D

(side note.. so later in the car I was commenting about how I was starting to rub pretty bad in the whoha region and couldn't figure out why because I had slathered on the Belgium butter like it was my job. Andrea (non-triathlete) from the back seat says "is it water proof? You were in the water for an hour" I sit there dumbfounded with my mouth open so wide that you could shove bigmouthbillybass right in. Doh, that shit is NOT water proof, no where on the bottle does it say it is for swimming. Well no fucking wonder.)

I broke the cardinal rule and I sat down in transition (it ain't a picnic, right Jaime?) to put my running shoes on. Finally, I was rehydrated! How do I know this? I peed as I sat down..hahah. I go to grab my visor so I can leave T2 and the fucking thing is GONE. I tore my transition gear apart, even went into my neighbors' stuff, it was no where to be found. I was pissed, who would take it? Even worse it was close to 105 now and I had no where to stuff wet sponges on my head.

I started out on the run hoping the culprit got a scorching case of herpes soon as retribution, but then remembered that wasn't nice. So I hoped that it helped them win their age group or something nice like that.

I really should elaborate that my run was a shuffle. At this point it was awesome to see so many of my friends and teammates heading into the last 1-2 miles of the run so I was busy cheering them all on. When the course thinned out I started walked and never really stopped walking until I was coming on the last mile. I couldn't walk two paces without coughing like I was dying. There was a guy that I kept racing. He'd get into the lead, I'd pick up the pace and take over, then he'd pass me. This went on for the end of the race. As I came down the last valley to start the final big hill to the finish and there they were. At least 10 people all in blue from my T3 team cheering me on. My run picked up pace and I wanted to make them all proud with a strong finish. As soon as I started running faster I heard the most familiar sound in my life. My mom's voice cheering me on. She was there with Charlie and they were ringing their loud ass (and very authentic) cow bells. Her voice was the frantic cheer that I remember from all the cheer-able moments in my life.

I came in the finisher's chute and there was more blue cheering me on. There was my dad and Brian and Andrea. And there was the finish line. Once I got through the finish there were members from other teams to congratulate me. I will never get tired of how amazingly awesome this community is full of support.

I got back to my bike to pack up and what was sitting square in the middle of my bright yellow mat? My fucking visor.

Ironman Muncie by the numbers:
too many to count - snot rockets
24 - salt stick tablets consumed
15 - cups of ice dumped down the front of my bra
9 - number of times I got kicked during the swim
7 - miss-fired snot rockets (hey, it happens to everyone)
4 - cups of ice dumped down my shorts
1.5 - number of miles a bee followed me on the run (that shoulda got me runnin'!)
1 - missing visor
0 - number of times I felt like quitting

Thanks to everyone who supported me! Many more races and updates to come!