Here I am headed out with Doc and OB. Having the race on the longest day of the year (in so many ways) has its benefits. I never imagined it would be fully light at 5:00 a.m. Guess I've watched Kona coverage too much - it's always pitch black when the athletes arrive.
Body marking came first. I must admit I was a little disappointed with the sharpie marking just like any ole local triathlon. For some reason I thought we were all marked with the press on numbers like the pros. Got the Guru all loaded up (maybe a little too loaded up it turns out) and then it was time to wait.
Then it was time to SUIT UP! (How I Met Your Mother reference) and head into the beach. I hadn't really told OB and the Doc where I was starting from which was too bad as after a warmup swim we stood around for 15 minutes and I could have talked to them. As it was I used the time to reflect and tried to calm my nerves. I did manage to run head on head into another swimmer during the warmup. Fortunately we were both ok. The waves made it pretty tough to sight. He kept apologizing like it was his fault. I was swimming too!Anyhow, I went WAAAAAY to the right. I'll trade open water for distance anyday. I couldn't even hear the music and announcements. I did hear the gun though and we were off. Not only did I start right but I swam right. I think the energy I spent swimming an extra 3oo yards paled in comparison to the energy trying to go around, between and over other swimmers in the peleton (can you use that term in a swim?) Maybe scrum is a better term. Here's a shot of the pack.
Believe it or not, my rockstar crew of Sherpa's was able to capture me in the water. Guess having a distinctive swim style pays off sometimes. I have a really slow turnover compared to most swimmers - trying to milk every inch out of each stroke.
My head looks pretty high in these pics but I'm going to attribute that to the waves and it looks like I'm getting decent body rotation.
The swim between the far buoys was really rough. Once you got out there there was nothing sheltering the waves and there was plenty of boat traffic out to see the race kicking up rollers. I thought after the first loop that I could swim closer to the buoys since everyone would be swimming about the same speed. The diagonal from the beach to the first buoy quickly dispelled that notion. Upon reaching the first buoy I kept going wide. The downside was that I couldn't find any feet to follow. I just focused on staying smooth and not pushing it too hard. I exited the water in 1:14:10. That's right around what I was anticipating. After coming out of the water I got out of the top of my wetsuit, found some open strippers and flopped onto my back. It took them a couple of tugs but off came the suit. Fortunately she shoved the suit into my chest as she directed me to the T1 bags. I would have just wandered off without it.
Heading into the tent for T1 (all the kids are wearing their suits this way). From my reading I knew to dump out my bag rather than picking through it to find stuff. Next time I'll have a better plan. I sort of fumbled around - started to put on helmet before shirt, things like that. After a short stop at the Biffy I was grabbing my bike and heading out.Here's Team Van Sickle - minus OB. I wouldn't have finished without them - of that there is no doubt.
As hard as I tried I could not get my heart rate down where I wanted it. It was still in zone 1 but I was hoping to do the first loop in lower zone 1 instead of upper. Eventually I quit worrying about it and just focused on keeping it in zone 1. The pictures are all in town (where Team Van Sickle was watching) so you won't see me grunting up the hills.The beginning of the bike was like the swim but on land. Just a scrum. 1:14 puts you up with and in front of some pretty fast bikers. Just as we leave town for the short out and back we make 3 quick sharp turns. This guy with a fully tricked out bike screamed past a bunch of us after the 2nd turn. I turned the corner on the 3rd turn just in time to see him skid across the pavement on his helmet and right shoulder, as his ride went the other direction. His day was over. I kept him in mind throughout the ride - particularly on the more technical descents. That was not how I wanted my day to end.
Sporting the GO BIG Sports jersey. If you're ever in Crested Butte, CO and have a biking need stop in and ask for Pete. These pictures really highlight the need for me to get some racewheels. Ok, so I averaged just under 16 mph so they wouldn't have done much good, but plenty of people behind me had them. It's not even really for me, but don't you think the Guru deserves them.
The first loop of the bike went pretty much as expected. At the beginning of the second loop I stopped to get my special needs bag. Read the card that JRose had made, grabbed some food. Didn't need the change of socks or extra tubes, cartridges. Shortly after getting the SN bag I stopped to pee. Clearly I'm getting enough fluids.I was really dreading the hills on the second loop. About the time I hit the country club (about mile 80 of the 112 right where the hills start) the inside of my left leg started to cramp. Oh snap! This could get interesting. I was really worried about how it would respond on the climbs. The first climb from the country club is pretty short but steep enough to get your attention. The leg didn't cramp any more on the climb but just felt like it could lock up at any point. I decided I better get some more nutrition in and took banana pieces at the next couple of aid stations. I also ate some powerbars and hit the Gatorade pretty hard. (At this point in the story the soundtrack would feature some foreboding music so you the reader would know a mistake was being made even though the main character was blissfully ignorant.)
At one aid station I wanted Gatorade. They had started to shrink down the number of volunteers at the stations. There were 2 people handing out Gatorade. A women in front of me pulled up to one and stopped. Ok, I'll go to the next guy. As I approached he turned to someone behind him, shouted something. As he turned he took the bottle out of reach. Great. Now I've just got water. I drank the water and ate some more solid food (more foreboding music). At this point of a long ride the slightest thing can start to upset you. I realized what was happening (as far as my mood), told myself that it was outside the box of things I could control and tried to let it go. It worked.
I was amazed at how unfamiliar the course seemed on the second loop. On the first loop it was just as I had ridden it on the Computrainer and driven it (twice, once with Team Van Sickle and again with OB since he wasn't there for the first time). On the second loop I had no idea how many hills were left. I just wanted off. I didn't mind riding into the wind on the way back into town. I just wanted off.
As I coasted into the dismount line a friendly volunteer firmly grabbed both aerobars, made sure to look me right in the eye and said firmly, "I've got your bike, walk behind me for your T2 bag." It's amazing how 7 hours on a bike will turn you into a little bit of a zombie. He clearly had been dealing with some dazed riders as they came into T2.
After getting my transition bag, I realized I needed to hit the Biffy. Nothing upsets the volunteers like an athlete moving in the wrong direction, but they quickly grasped where I was headed. Hmmm, I thought, this is unusual, I've never had to poop during an event, but this is a long event. (more foreboding music).
T2 went very quickly after that - even with the complete outfit change. As I started running I was feeling great. Glad to be off the bike, making decent time, walking the aid stations. I did the first 2 miles in around 11 minutes per.
The Zman ran with me for a bit. It was shortly after this point that it hit.
My bowels shut down. Everything I had taken on the run was sitting in my stomach. I was bloated and cramping. I was quickly reduced to a walk starting at around mile 3. I walked the next 7 miles on my own. The course winds through town and then follows the lake. The wind was screaming off the lake and it started raining. I was cold. I was upset. I didn't take in any fluids or food during those 7 miles (almost 2 hours). I did the math (wrongly) and was convinced I was going to come in at least 5 to 10 minutes after the midnight cutoff. I thought about finding a medical station and just throwing in the towel.They don't really have the medical stations well marked. Plus I didn't want to wait for a ride back to the park. I decided I would walk back to the park and abandon the race at that point. Several times I was on the verge of tears thinking about having to walk up to the Doc, Zman, JRose, my mom and OB - people that I love, people that had traveled with me to support me in this effort and tell them - "I can't do it." Even now it brings tears to my eyes thinking about it. I knew Anne was emailing a big group around the world with my progress (or lack thereof). In addition, I'm exploring the possibility of getting into athlete coaching. Ironman finisher looks a lot better on the website/resume then Ironman DNF. I felt like I was failing everyone including myself.
Fortunately the Doc and OB hopped on mountain bikes and met me as I came back into town. This is what they found:
I was freezing, walking with my hands in my pockets, and pale green in color. The Doc noticed I was on the verge of tears, and immediately went into crisis management mode.Months ago I had shown her a blog entry from Bigun's wife Diana that contained a Sherpa guide. One of the things it said is that at some point during the day your athlete is going to want to quit. DO NOT LET THEM.
That's the last time I share any information like that. Somebody asked me if she went into cheerleader mode - I think it was more like drill sergeant. She told me I would make it. She reminded me how bad I wanted this. She did her best to get me to focus on something other than my suffering. She asked me if there was anything in my SN bag that would help. Yes, I had a long sleeve technical shirt in there. "Great! Just concentrate on getting to that."
I told her it didn't matter, I didn't have time. I had done the math. OB looked at me like I was crazy. "Rich, you've got plenty of time. If you keep moving the way you are you have an hour to spare." That was not the answer I wanted at the time. If looks could kill OB would still be lying by the side of the road.
He wasn't the only one to receive a killer look. As I got closer to the park, one of the owners of the house we rented saw me and shouted "You're going to make it Rich!" I was confused, my vision isn't great after long rides - cloudy, and my bib said Richard so I knew it must be someone who knew me and wasn't reading my bib. I didn't recognize the voice and still didn't really want to make it. I turned in her direction with disgust on my face. The person next to her asked her what she had done to me. Ooops. Sorry Kristina. Glad we saw you after the banquet so I could apologize and explain.
At some point I got a mylar cape with a hole for my head. It helped a little. I then noticed a guy going the opposite direction using his race belt to hold down the cape. Looked a little like Conan (the Bararian not O'Brien). Ooooh, I thought. This guy's a genius! So I rigged mine up and kept going.
Zman met me at the end of the short out and back that starts both loops. He wanted to be sure to run through the 7 goals of your first Ironman that don't involve a finish time. 1. Finishing 2. Finishing standing up 3. Finishing without visiting the medical tent etc. . . Why do I let these people read? Actually it was really cute and did help.
I got my long sleeve shirt. The thought of stripping off my cape and jacket to put it on was less than appealing. I hit the bathroom in the park (have I left the course am I DQ'd?) to strip down out of the wind. Got myself reassembled and headed out.
It was at this point I started walking with a woman from Texas. You can see her in one of the video shots - she's got a black garbage bag on and is in front of me. She had been in a motorcycle v. semi accident in 2006 (she wasn't driving the truck). Her leg still bore the scars. She was carrying pictures of it from the hospital and was just so positive about being able to be doing what she was doing. Her attitude was infectious. I started to realize that I was being negative about my situation.
XT4 (Becoming Ironman) has a blog entry about encountering negative people during the race and staying as far away as possible. I didn't want to be that negative energy on the course and tried to turn it around. I still wasn't feeling good so I had to slow down and let her go ahead. At this point I started taking water again. I even tried some chicken broth which almost caused me to hurl immediately. The water was helping. Aside from one mile that involved 2 Biffy stops (right after the broth) I maintained about 17/min miles. Not flying but not strolling either to be sure.
The weather on the second loop greatly improved. It actually got warmer by the lake. The wind died down and the water was warmer than the air. At one point near the turnaround the course curves right and heads uphill. They had lights at the top near the turnaround. There was steam rising from the road and several athletes were walking towards me through the mist. The lights behind them gave it an ethereal backlit feeling. All that was missing was some Chariots of Fire music. (The athletes were already providing the slow motion at that point in the evening).
At long last I made the left had turn towards the finish. A volunteer offered to take my cape for me (now being carried since it was warmer). I felt cheesy running in after walking for 23 miles but it's almost a requirement.
As you can see in these pics I was thrilled - as were my Sherpa's.
The Doc has been saying for months that this was my Ironman, not my first Ironman, my Ironman. I couldn't resist putting up 1 finger and announcing "First one done" - much like Lance and his 7.
Despite the excitement - I was exhausted and couldn't keep from yawning.
Final time 15:47:53. Left 1:12 on the table, but still think I got my money's worth. What does it all mean to me? That's a good question and one for another post.
