70.3 Done and DONE!

Ima. Half. Ironman.

Cedar Point 70.3 has come and gone and I'm still standing to tell about it. It was by far the most challenging day in my life. Yet, it is the most rewarding feeling and I still stop to pinch myself because I can't believe that I carried myself 70.3 miles. I didn't have to crawl or quit.

The morning started early as every triathlon morning does. Our bikes had to be racked the night before so I just had to set up transition and I was ready. I had printed and laminated a picture of Joe and I to put on my bike and carry on the run, I was going to look at it whenever I needed a boost or felt like I couldn't go on. By the time I got to set up the picture was gone. I was upset, but Marti told me, that's Joe's way of saying "You got this" with his signature laugh and smile. They were right, I did have this.

Swim
The water temp was 74.5, so about 95% of the field wore wetsuits. After my terrible swim in Chicago I decided to forgo the rubber suit of hell. As I walked around the swimmers I got the look. The look of "she's REALLY going to do this?" It still really blows my mind how much people can show their judgment on their faces; I like to believe they just don't realize it. Swimming in Lake Erie is hands down better than Lake Michigan off the shore of Chicago. The water is shallow so we had to start about 100 yards out and you had to walk for about 100 yards after the start. The water was really too shallow for dolphin dives, but too shallow to run, really quit annoying. The currents going out were pretty bad, I thought I was never going to get to the orange buoy; (orange is turn, yellow is sighting) as I was swimming out the first leg the song "you're not alone" was in my head because I felt like I was alone in the water. The course was in the shape of a triangle, so the second leg was parallel to the shore, that swim wasn't too bad. I didn't have a song stuck in my head, just kept saying, "just don't drown." The last leg was into shore with the tides bringing you back but it seemed to take a while too. As soon as I turned to make my way to shore the song "I'm coming home" was playing my head. I really am my own jukebox; I don't even listen to either song. I was so relieved to see the water get lighter which meant it was more shallow and I was getting closer. A cramp set in my left foot that hurt like a bitch so as soon as I could stand I did to stretch the fucker out. I heard a collective "SWIM" from Andrea and Marti on shore so I dropped and swam. They laughed after how quickly I listened and dropped. Getting out of the swim I couldn't focus on anything and felt like I was coming out of a bar after a night of drinking but made my way to T1 where my bike was one of the few left :( I was in the last wave and it took me about an hour to swim 1.2 miles.

Bike
Since I was one of the last out onto the bike course it was like I was riding alone. I guess it's a good thing I've spent most of the season out on the course alone at the end of the pack. I'm used to it. While it bothers me that I'm that slow, it doesn't bother me enough to impact my performance. The first half is pretty flat with some rollers until you get to about mile 20 where you hit a fun set of hills. There was one where I was going 5mph up the hill. As I was coming into mile 15 I started to see all my teammates come back to finish the bike; I made sure to cheer for everyone, even if I couldn't tell who they were as they whizzed by me (everyone looks the same in a helmet and I haven't learned everyone's bikes yet). About mile 25 is where it happened.

I look down, 12mph. Fuck. again 10mph. FUCK. 8.7 MPH FUCKFUCKITYFUCKFUCKFUCK. My first true bonk on the bike. Damn it. This part of the course is small rollers so I decide I need to get off the bike to rest a minute. I was going to lay in the grass and stretch but I didn't want the other bikers (full iron distance loops twice) to think I was dead and stop. (Triathletes are pretty considerate of each other.) I get off and stretch while holding onto my bike and take a unscheduled gel (good thing I learned early on to bring extra!) and some water. I get back on and manage 15 mph for most of the ride. I even find times where I'm back up to 21 mph so I'm not going to complain. I found myself starting to think "so and so is off the bike, so and so is probably close to finishing" and I decided to shut those voices out. It was MY race. The goal was to finish, so shut the fucking committee in your head off and just finish.Around mile 50 I realize I'm about 18 miles away from becoming a half ironman. I immediately start bawling with tears of pride. Sausage is doing this. I'm really doing this.

Run
I saw some of my T3 teammates with medals around their necks as they cheered me onto the run. I was so proud that they had finished, I knew some of them had taken home age group awards. I passed many friends making their way back as I was just starting. Normally I'd let this bother me, but no damnit, it was MY race. This was my mantra during the run. I had fun cheering everyone on that I passed. Giving words of encouragement to those who were finishing the half "There's a huge party at the finish waiting for you!" and to those who were only on loop 1 of 2 for the full 140.6 distance. I had a pro female pat me on the back as she ran by and said "you rock." I had another male pro tell me "You are such an inspiration to everyone out here" and yet another guy say "You are my inspiration to finish this. I couldn't stop crying on the run. It was a very emotional experience for me. I was thinking of everything that had changed in my life, everything I had sacrificed to get to this moment. I thought about the person that doubted me when I went to run my first half marathon. Between all the cheering and accolades from people on the course, it finally struck me. I INSPIRE PEOPLE. I've half believed it, but this time it sunk in and I believed it in my head AND heart.

As I ran down the street I heard "fuck you shorty" "give me my fucking money you dirty hoe" and realized I was running by a huge domestic dispute outside a house. I thought "keep your head down, don't make eye contact." As I turned the corner to escape a guy came by and said "we're not going to finish our first race because we got shot in the crossfire." Hahah, he read my mind. At the turn around I asked the staff member (between big sobs; I'm surprised he could understand me) if I finished after 8:30 would I still get my medal and finisher's shirt. He just laughed and told me to keep going, there was a huge crowd waiting to cheer me on at the finish. He must have been worried about my well-being because he came up a half mile later to ask me if I was okay. I just sobbed I'm em-ot-ionallll. He just laughed and said it was okay and to run like the wind.

My teammate Scott met me at mile 10 to cheer me on, a much needed boost at the end, his smile meant a lot. Then the party bus came around to honk and cheer. Marti, Andrea and Michelle were hooting and hollering from the road for me to finish. I saw Michelle's finisher medal, I wanted it, so I dug in and finished strong. As I came in to the finish area I saw Elyssa, Josh, Greg, Kim and Todd cheering me on. I rounded the corner and could hear the announcer talking about a finisher, I realized he was talking about ME! With all the crying I had done on the course, I only teared up on the last corner, then it all turned into a huge SMILE. Everyone was there to applaud my finish. I attempted a cartwheel to finish, but only had the energy to do half of one, so I guess it kinda looked like a sideways handstand.

El. Fin.
I cannot describe how it felt to finish. To know I had done it, I had met my goal. I wasn't happy with my time, but I can figure out later how to improve for next season. For now I'm going to enjoy the glory and pride. I'm still in awe of myself and so incredibly grateful for everyone who supported me through this.

This season hasn't been easy. A lot has changed in my life this summer. I'm a different girl coming out than what went in. I've gained a lot of friends, lost touch with a few, but I'm doing it all for me. I'm doing things I want to do that are making me a healthier person and ultimately a better person.

To be honest, I didn't deserve to finish. My schedule since Muncie has been nuts and I've let training slip to a low priority. Since Muncie I was on my bike a handful of times, mileage was low. The highest was 25 miles with the Chicago Tri. I hadn't been swimming. So I can't be anything but grateful that I was able to finish. I am disappointed to know that had I used those 8 weeks to really dig in, I could have probably crushed that course. The story of my life.

I'm done with saying I could have. I can and I will. The off season has finally started and it's time to dig into my goals. Lose weight, build strength and work in my zones to build my base. Ironman Arizona is 14 months away. 140.6 will be mine. Stay tuned..

Sausage in a Wetsuit returns

44 minutes, 2,640 seconds.  That's the difference in my '12 Chicago tri from '11. I was honestly hoping to break 4 hours, but  a 44 minute improvement in a year is a pretty good consolation prize.

For the first time this season I wasn't disappointed with my performance. I gave it my all and left it all on the course. My sciatic nerve was not happy that weekend and the aftermath was definitely clear as I was walking like I had been rode a horse all weekend.

Seeing that it was lake Michigan I decided to bring out my wetsuit for this race. I lubed up with spray triglide in the hotel room before we left for the start line. It's been two months since I last wore it, so I'm a little out of practice getting that bitch on. My nails were longer, so I had to be careful not to punch a hole. I started to waddle down the hallway. Luckily Brian recommended a cab to the start line, so I didn't have to waddle the .75 miles to the start line (god bless my friends!)

As soon as I hopped in the water to bob like a sea of apples in the lake with my start wave, I knew it was going to be a frustrating swim. I felt constricted and it was hard to breath. I would swim about 200 meters and then need a break to get some air. So I would try breaststroking so I could at least keep forward movement. Sausage shoved in a wetsuit does not stroke anything well. It was impossible, so I would kinda doggy paddle forward a few seconds to get a breath and then keep going. The end buoy seems to move, it takes FOREVER to get to that fucker. Lesson 1: I had better sleep in my wetsuit to get ready for IMAZ next year.

The run to T1 is more than .25 miles. This year they put carpeting down the entire way which was awesome. However, it was a slippery little fucker. I almost fell a dozen times so I decided to walk because my luck I would have ate it. As I moved out of T1 a nice storm was rolling in and down came the rain. Good think I forgot my sunglasses at the hotel.

Out on the ride my new wheels were cutting through the wind. I was passing people left and right and they were staying passed (usually they pop back up). I got a "that's an awesome bike" (compared to last year "you're doing this race on THAT bike?") The wind in our face going North on Lakeshore Drive was ridiculous. I thought "I can't wait to have that shit at my back when I turn around." I turned around,  and the wind was twice as bad. The wind WAS at my back. About mile 12 I thought something dropped off my bike but I couldn't see anything so I kept going. A few seconds later I couldn't pedal. Fuck. So I got off and find that my spare tube had fallen off my repair pouch. It was stuck in my crank. I finally got it untangled and secured it (I'm sure it's trashed). Now to put my chain back on with tons of bikes coming at me (I kept imagining someone flying right into me). Finally after about 5 minutes I got it put back on and grease was smeared all over me head to toe. One of my favorite spin instructors, Sharon, came up behind me at mile 24 and we rode the last mile in together. All and all I was pleased, I managed 18mph in the wind. For the first time I really felt like I was racing out on the bike, it was a high like no other.

The run was a shuffle at best. My lower back was super tight from my sciatic nerve issues so I walked the first two miles and popped some advil. Finally it loosened up and I was able to jog. Last year I finished after all the pros. This year the men did lap me, but it was pretty cool to be able to cheer for Hunter Kemper. I was the last person to congratulate him as we both entered the finishers shoot (any guess who they announced finishing? hahah) The women didn't lap me, so that's a small victory. I spent the last mile throwing out high fives to people I passed as they were just starting the run. I just love cheering for everyone. Lesson 2: It poured the entire run, I need to run more in the rain because I hate when my face is wet and I can't dry it.

I was thankful to see my pit crew at the finish line. Brian, Jen and Marci were there, soaking wet, cheering loud for me. Thanks guys for coming out! We got back to the hotel and I almost killed myself as I slipped on the carpet where I had sprayed the triglide. That shit is slippery!

As I was out on the course I reflected on a few things:
-When the fuck did everyone else get so fast? I finished 44 minutes earlier than last year, but I still finished dead last in my division and was one of the last few out on the course.
-I need to let go of my expectations about my times and performance. I cannot compare myself to others, especially since I am still carting around that Olsen twin. It's going to make my times slower, no matter how much I want to believe it doesn't matter.
-I need to dump that bitch. Racing would be more fun, training would be easier and I'd get to have a beer before the tent closes. I read a funny article in USA Triathlete "Thoughts from the back of the pack" I was laughing out loud when I was reading it because it was o' so true. I want to know what it's like from the middle of the pack.
-And I want to know what it's like from the front of the pack. Because I have a feeling that when I do ditch the Olsen (and I will) that I will be on the heels of my idols; those ladies in my life that are leading the pack at races.
-I need to respect the race. No matter the distance, it is a race that needs proper prep. I am happy with my performance given the condition I was in when I arrived at the race. But I need to arrive in better condition. I need to get more sleep, more hydration and feeling better. I have decided to do these races, so I need to prioritize it appropriately in my schedule.
-I'm not 23 anymore and I can't do it all and I'm pretty tired from trying. I need to cut down to what's important and say no to the rest. I'm almost 33 but I keep myself programmed non-stop like I'm 23 and I need to realize 10 years does make a difference even though I want to pretend it doesn't...

Overall, finally a race with very few mishaps. "Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors"