I feel like someone flipped a switch in me. Just months ago I was this powerhouse of energy and motivation. Heck, just go back to any post in July or August and compare that to what you'll see here.
The last week or so I've been mostly pain-free (just can't pick up anything heavy, and still some rib pain with crunches) but also mostly exercise-free. What!? No exercise?! Note I'm not using the word Training. No Training. Too Early. (I'm just reminding myself of that).
Last night I began to wonder, when will that urge come back? Am I in a lull because I don't have the high to feed off of? Because the momentum is gone? So do I push myself back out there, or just wait on it?
Friday, October 29, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
I'm Back!
Saturday: 1st ever cyclocross race, 9 mile race. 1st place in Womens 4. OMG!
Sunday: trail run in Queeny 4 miles, then 2nd CX race in Antire Park. 10 mile race. I think 8th place out of 21. Awesome!
I'm not sure if anyone else besides me reads this or not. But just in case, here's a brief run-down of why I've been gone so long. It will also help to remind me later of why I quit typing in here.
One week to the day after IM I fell and was injured. Injury has got to be about the hardest thing to deal with for us. It was especially hard because I was just feeling good enough again to go for a run or ride that weekend to continue the high I felt after finishing the race. It's awful hard to go from 15-20hrs a week to 0 hours a week, just like that.
I'd started some posts, thinking it would be good to track the recovery process. But they all tended to go negative. I'd lament the fact that I couldn't even ride the bike on the trainer. I'd wallow in fear of long-lasting or permanent injuries. It just got bad, so I decided to take an extended break.
Turns out, that was the best thing to do. I'd log any runs or ride, but not here. I wouldn't call it training, it was just a run. No Garmin, no goals, no reason other than fun. I'd been looking forward to this all summer, so it was funny that once injured the last thing I wanted to do was sit still!
My goal was to be recovered by my birthday--today! Happy Birthday to Me!!
Sunday: trail run in Queeny 4 miles, then 2nd CX race in Antire Park. 10 mile race. I think 8th place out of 21. Awesome!
I'm not sure if anyone else besides me reads this or not. But just in case, here's a brief run-down of why I've been gone so long. It will also help to remind me later of why I quit typing in here.
One week to the day after IM I fell and was injured. Injury has got to be about the hardest thing to deal with for us. It was especially hard because I was just feeling good enough again to go for a run or ride that weekend to continue the high I felt after finishing the race. It's awful hard to go from 15-20hrs a week to 0 hours a week, just like that.
I'd started some posts, thinking it would be good to track the recovery process. But they all tended to go negative. I'd lament the fact that I couldn't even ride the bike on the trainer. I'd wallow in fear of long-lasting or permanent injuries. It just got bad, so I decided to take an extended break.
Turns out, that was the best thing to do. I'd log any runs or ride, but not here. I wouldn't call it training, it was just a run. No Garmin, no goals, no reason other than fun. I'd been looking forward to this all summer, so it was funny that once injured the last thing I wanted to do was sit still!
My goal was to be recovered by my birthday--today! Happy Birthday to Me!!
Monday, September 13, 2010
One Year to IMWI 2010--WrapUp
Since Sept 1st, 2010:
SWIM: 159821 yards (90.8 miles) in 72.71 hours
BIKE: 4176.49 miles in 248 hours
RUN: 1221.46 miles in 188.08 hours
While the progress towards this race is often measured in miles, and I really can't deny that those numbers are impressive, the real reward can't be measured. I am a different person.
I spend the past year alternating between doubt and confidence. The year began with the Redman Incident, the low point in my 5 years of triathlon. It took time to move beyond that and I learned so much from it about myself. As time passed, my confidence returned to normal and I decided that I was much stronger than I ever realized.
I trained though pain, doubt, and fatigue. I pushed myself beyond limits I thought I'd never be able to test. I broke new barriers for myself. I found a new eating lifestyle. But that still doesn't cover the changes.
I developed an Iron Self Confidence (or Smugacity!) that is now a part of me. Having a bad day? I did an ironman race, I can get through a bad day. Someone pissing me off? I did an ironman race, this one person can't ruin my mood. Tired, hungry, hurting? I did an ironman race, I've seen it all before and took it with a smile. Sure I still have my doubts and low points, but I'm more upfront in dealing with them.
I'm confident now, I confront people and speak my mind. I'm not afraid of my thoughts or body, in fact I'm more one with myself than ever before. I'm stronger than I ever realized.
People keep saying "Oh I could never do anything like that!". I beg to differ. Yes you can, but only if you really want it. And it doesn't have to be ironman. It can be a 5K, quitting smoking, or just making positive changes for yourself. Because what I really did is challenge myself with this race. And all you need to do is challenge yourself. Find something that excites you and GO FOR IT.
And that's the big lesson I learned for myself. GO FOR IT. Don't hold back. Don't doubt so much. Quit complaining and finding excuses. Recognize your unmutable limits and learn to work with them. Love who you are and what you have. Take your fears, your reservations, and your doubts, take them and grind them up under the foot of determinations and just GO FOR IT.
SWIM: 159821 yards (90.8 miles) in 72.71 hours
BIKE: 4176.49 miles in 248 hours
RUN: 1221.46 miles in 188.08 hours
While the progress towards this race is often measured in miles, and I really can't deny that those numbers are impressive, the real reward can't be measured. I am a different person.
I spend the past year alternating between doubt and confidence. The year began with the Redman Incident, the low point in my 5 years of triathlon. It took time to move beyond that and I learned so much from it about myself. As time passed, my confidence returned to normal and I decided that I was much stronger than I ever realized.
I trained though pain, doubt, and fatigue. I pushed myself beyond limits I thought I'd never be able to test. I broke new barriers for myself. I found a new eating lifestyle. But that still doesn't cover the changes.
I developed an Iron Self Confidence (or Smugacity!) that is now a part of me. Having a bad day? I did an ironman race, I can get through a bad day. Someone pissing me off? I did an ironman race, this one person can't ruin my mood. Tired, hungry, hurting? I did an ironman race, I've seen it all before and took it with a smile. Sure I still have my doubts and low points, but I'm more upfront in dealing with them.
I'm confident now, I confront people and speak my mind. I'm not afraid of my thoughts or body, in fact I'm more one with myself than ever before. I'm stronger than I ever realized.
People keep saying "Oh I could never do anything like that!". I beg to differ. Yes you can, but only if you really want it. And it doesn't have to be ironman. It can be a 5K, quitting smoking, or just making positive changes for yourself. Because what I really did is challenge myself with this race. And all you need to do is challenge yourself. Find something that excites you and GO FOR IT.
And that's the big lesson I learned for myself. GO FOR IT. Don't hold back. Don't doubt so much. Quit complaining and finding excuses. Recognize your unmutable limits and learn to work with them. Love who you are and what you have. Take your fears, your reservations, and your doubts, take them and grind them up under the foot of determinations and just GO FOR IT.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
IMWI 2010 FINISH
THE FINISH: Mile 25 came and went, and before I knew it mile 26 was right in front of me. By now I was back in civilization, with loud spectators, cowbells, signs, and more. I wondered if they knew if I was finishing my first or second lap, heck they could be cheering me through a turn around for all they knew! Regardless they cheered anyway. And it was in these last few tenths of a mile that the magic of the whole day enveloped me. The street lights cast an orangish glow, for some reason I remember that. I targeted the crowd barrier fence to maximize the cheering. Hundreds of people were lined up, all of them cheering for me and the other athletes around me!! I ran the first stretch along the Capitol and saw BN. Turned right and got high fives all along the second stretch. I could hear music and Mike Reilly announcing at the Finish. Another right turn, more high fives and the JM’s!! I was laughing, screaming, almost crying, and running as if it was my first mile of the whole day. It was as if the Finish line projected energy that I could absorb. And the closer I got to it, the better I felt.
One last left turn…and there it was…The Finish Line!! The white arch, Mike Reilly, the official Race Clock. But I almost couldn’t see it in all the excitement. It was overwhelming. Tears, goosebumps, laughter, cheering…I’d imagined this very moment all summer long. When the miles started to wear on me, when the heat of the day took all my energy, and when my motivation was low, I’d play this very moment in my head as a motivation. Then Mike Reilly called my name:
Before I knew it, I crossed the timing line and passed under the arch! 13 hours, 42 minutes and 36 seconds.
Again, I was overwhelmed. Two catchers grabbed me and kept me walking. They led me off to get my medal and my T-shirt. They kept talking to me, kept me walking, and led me off to the finish photographer. They let me wear the honeybee hat, which is now immortalized in my finisher’s photo.
POST RACE: And that was it. It was over! The catchers released me when I found my family, who were waiting on a chicken dance. They were rewarded with the best chicken dance I could do after 140.6 miles.
My immediate concerns focused on rehydrating. I knew I was low on fluids, but didn’t have the stomach to take too much. Besides, I was too distracted to drink water. My friends and family had met up at the finish. Amazingly enough, I still had the energy to sing and dance with the finish line music. My energy levels would crash eventually, for now, I was going to revel in the celebrations.
But soon enough, as with everything, it had to end. I wanted to stay up the rest of the night and relive these moments. I wanted to run the last few tenths of a mile over and over. I wanted more of this drug called Ironman! But I needed fluids. A shower. And a chair. Wow was I tired!!
One of my biggest surprises of the day was the realization that I had not one blister, raw spot, or injury from the entire day. There were training days this summer in which 5 miles left me hurting, but today truly was blessed.
We headed back to the car. Rich and the family had already collected my transition bags and Frea, my trusty steed. Did I really do all this? It seemed unreal. The Tri club group gathered for a late dinner at Perkins, rehashing the day and swapping stories. I always envisioned IM post race to be a zombie walk to bed. Instead here I was eating dinner!
Love it. Absolutely Loved It. And now I want more!!
One last left turn…and there it was…The Finish Line!! The white arch, Mike Reilly, the official Race Clock. But I almost couldn’t see it in all the excitement. It was overwhelming. Tears, goosebumps, laughter, cheering…I’d imagined this very moment all summer long. When the miles started to wear on me, when the heat of the day took all my energy, and when my motivation was low, I’d play this very moment in my head as a motivation. Then Mike Reilly called my name:
"Tracy Jo Pasieka, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!"
Before I knew it, I crossed the timing line and passed under the arch! 13 hours, 42 minutes and 36 seconds.
Again, I was overwhelmed. Two catchers grabbed me and kept me walking. They led me off to get my medal and my T-shirt. They kept talking to me, kept me walking, and led me off to the finish photographer. They let me wear the honeybee hat, which is now immortalized in my finisher’s photo.
POST RACE: And that was it. It was over! The catchers released me when I found my family, who were waiting on a chicken dance. They were rewarded with the best chicken dance I could do after 140.6 miles.
My immediate concerns focused on rehydrating. I knew I was low on fluids, but didn’t have the stomach to take too much. Besides, I was too distracted to drink water. My friends and family had met up at the finish. Amazingly enough, I still had the energy to sing and dance with the finish line music. My energy levels would crash eventually, for now, I was going to revel in the celebrations.
But soon enough, as with everything, it had to end. I wanted to stay up the rest of the night and relive these moments. I wanted to run the last few tenths of a mile over and over. I wanted more of this drug called Ironman! But I needed fluids. A shower. And a chair. Wow was I tired!!
One of my biggest surprises of the day was the realization that I had not one blister, raw spot, or injury from the entire day. There were training days this summer in which 5 miles left me hurting, but today truly was blessed.
We headed back to the car. Rich and the family had already collected my transition bags and Frea, my trusty steed. Did I really do all this? It seemed unreal. The Tri club group gathered for a late dinner at Perkins, rehashing the day and swapping stories. I always envisioned IM post race to be a zombie walk to bed. Instead here I was eating dinner!
Love it. Absolutely Loved It. And now I want more!!
IMWI Run
RUN: 26.2 miles. Mostly flat, on streets and soft trails along Lake Mendota.
"I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day. An hour of woes and shattered shields, when the age of men comes crashing down! But it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good Earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!"
Loop 1: Coming out of T2, I felt surprisingly great. Where was the brick-heavy feeling I expected to have post ride? And the numbness and pain from the last few miles of the bike? Gone. In fact, it almost felt as if I was doing my first event of the day! This was probably due to the adenaline rush, the crowds, and the realization that I was so close to finishing this race. My plan for this run: Keep a comfortable pace and walk every aid station, whether or not I needed the rest. And walk whenever I wanted to, don’t force a run, just take the time and walk. And enjoy it!
In training runs and in IMKS, I would start out too fast in the first mile and wear myself out for later. This time I was able to keep the pace easy, I forced myself not so much to slow down, but to relax and enjoy the experience. This is Ironman! I think relaxing was key, it wasn’t so much pace but more being wound up and ready to run. We circled the capitol, headed through State St, and spun out for the two out-n-backs on the course. Once we left the capitol area, these sections formed a T-shape, we turned right first in the top of the T.
Since my pre-race preview of the course missed some areas in the first few miles, this part of the course was mostly new to me. I soon learned why we missed those areas—they weren’t streets but bike paths and little neighborhood areas. In the first 2 miles there was a short out-n-back loop, probably put in there to adjust for distance and to get the full 26.2 miles. It broke up my pace, but it also broke up monotony. Also breaking up the run was the way the aid stations alternated with mileage markers—the stations seemed to come at the half-mile points. My favorite was the comic-con water station between miles 2 and 3, all the costumes and energy was memorable.
Another thing I learned in IMKS was to eat ice, not only for cooling but as a way to trickle water into the tummy (and it was something to do). But in Kansas the ice was those nice flat chips. This race had the rounded ones with the hole in the middle. I hate to be picky, but these are harder to eat. I wasn’t hot, actually I don’t even think I was sweating all that much. But at every aid station I refilled my ice cup. That’s not to say I consumed the cup of ice in that mile, I would dump some or spit some out. But it gave me something to look forward to.
We looped through Randall Stadium (nice soft turf!), then headed up towards Lake Mendota for another section of the course I didn’t get to preview. I was still feeling good, but losing some of that Wow-Energy I had in the first few miles. The reality of the long trudge ahead was setting in, along with some low fueling problems. I had hoped to eat a gel every 30-40 mins, but I was instead doing every 60-75. I’m sure this contributed to the low points between miles 5-11. The run along the lake was fun, with a soft trail and shade making it feel like less of a race and more of training run in a park. I was surprised by the number of people walking around me, and I wondered just how long I had before I was one of them. The first out-n-back along the lake turned around on State St, and at the 6 mile aid station I tried to eat 3 grapes. Big mistake. Those 3 little grapes settled nicely in my tummy but did not go down nice. I almost gagged while chewing and swallowing. (And weeks later as I type this, I still don’t want to eat a grape!) At this, my mind rebelled against all foods—no more. Even the sight of them at the aid stations was unpleasant. I shifted over to the Powerbar Perform drink for calories for the rest of the race.
While the grapes were unpleasant, the crowds were wonderful! I don’t have a distinct memory of seeing family at this turn-around (not sure why) but I’m sure I did see them. With this boost I headed back towards the lake for the top of the T and the left side of it. This is where my hit the worst low of my race. My mental energy just tanked. I was getting clumsy and dumping my ice by accident. It wasn’t like hitting the wall or bonking. I just lost motivation in this section; the miles ahead just seemed to stretch out forever. I needed to eat, so I tried a gel. It only helped somewhat, so I started focusing on moving just one mile marker to the next. Oh there’s 6!! Hi 6!! Goodbye 6!! Where’s 7?! One by one the markers went by. Heeeeerrrreeee 8….where are you 8….oh there you are!!! Now for 9….. This part of the course along the lake seemed to stretch on and on and on…
Another problem I was having in this stretch was that I wasn’t breathing evenly. I was taking these short, gaspy breaths. I wasn’t relaxed, maybe I was started to feel a little of the panic from thinking about all the miles ahead. I focused on nice full even breaths. Stay relaxed, stay easy, stay with it…
It wasn’t until mile 10 or so that we left the lake and started running on streets again. Once I reached this point, I got some ideas as to why the run along the lake was such a low—no spectators, no noise, nothing to look at but the limestone path ahead of you and the other athletes. I was still jogging along and feeling good, passing walkers and other runners. I wondered if these were the people I’d read about—the ones that take the bike too hard or too fast and blow up on the run. It helped to think that maybe my conservative bike really did work for me.
Around mile 11, I saw the JM’s and slowed to walk with them. But just before I saw them, I decided to get some electrolytes in me, but I had no ice (I had clumsily dumped it again). So I decided to break open an Endurolyte and let the salt dissolve on my tongue. I should have done this in practice—it’s hard to do! I chewed on the end of it and got salt all over my lips and chin. I got a good laugh at how I probably looked to them—like a sloppy drug addict. The combination of a good laugh, seeing the J’s, and getting more than just 30s of walking did wonders for me. It was a huge boost to see them roving the course and it was no act when I said I was having fun. I really was! In just minutes I was ready to run again and said goodbye. It was around this point I saw BN taking pictures. Another surprise! Off to State St!
I sailed into the Capitol area, did the pre-pass of special needs and headed towards the turn-around. I had mentally prepared for this—seeing the finish line and leaving it behind. And in the end, it was painless. I’ll be back, I had no doubts. First loop: about 2hrs 22 mins.
Loop 2:
In training runs and in IMKS, I would start out too fast in the first mile and wear myself out for later. This time I was able to keep the pace easy, I forced myself not so much to slow down, but to relax and enjoy the experience. This is Ironman! I think relaxing was key, it wasn’t so much pace but more being wound up and ready to run. We circled the capitol, headed through State St, and spun out for the two out-n-backs on the course. Once we left the capitol area, these sections formed a T-shape, we turned right first in the top of the T.
Since my pre-race preview of the course missed some areas in the first few miles, this part of the course was mostly new to me. I soon learned why we missed those areas—they weren’t streets but bike paths and little neighborhood areas. In the first 2 miles there was a short out-n-back loop, probably put in there to adjust for distance and to get the full 26.2 miles. It broke up my pace, but it also broke up monotony. Also breaking up the run was the way the aid stations alternated with mileage markers—the stations seemed to come at the half-mile points. My favorite was the comic-con water station between miles 2 and 3, all the costumes and energy was memorable.
Another thing I learned in IMKS was to eat ice, not only for cooling but as a way to trickle water into the tummy (and it was something to do). But in Kansas the ice was those nice flat chips. This race had the rounded ones with the hole in the middle. I hate to be picky, but these are harder to eat. I wasn’t hot, actually I don’t even think I was sweating all that much. But at every aid station I refilled my ice cup. That’s not to say I consumed the cup of ice in that mile, I would dump some or spit some out. But it gave me something to look forward to.
We looped through Randall Stadium (nice soft turf!), then headed up towards Lake Mendota for another section of the course I didn’t get to preview. I was still feeling good, but losing some of that Wow-Energy I had in the first few miles. The reality of the long trudge ahead was setting in, along with some low fueling problems. I had hoped to eat a gel every 30-40 mins, but I was instead doing every 60-75. I’m sure this contributed to the low points between miles 5-11. The run along the lake was fun, with a soft trail and shade making it feel like less of a race and more of training run in a park. I was surprised by the number of people walking around me, and I wondered just how long I had before I was one of them. The first out-n-back along the lake turned around on State St, and at the 6 mile aid station I tried to eat 3 grapes. Big mistake. Those 3 little grapes settled nicely in my tummy but did not go down nice. I almost gagged while chewing and swallowing. (And weeks later as I type this, I still don’t want to eat a grape!) At this, my mind rebelled against all foods—no more. Even the sight of them at the aid stations was unpleasant. I shifted over to the Powerbar Perform drink for calories for the rest of the race.While the grapes were unpleasant, the crowds were wonderful! I don’t have a distinct memory of seeing family at this turn-around (not sure why) but I’m sure I did see them. With this boost I headed back towards the lake for the top of the T and the left side of it. This is where my hit the worst low of my race. My mental energy just tanked. I was getting clumsy and dumping my ice by accident. It wasn’t like hitting the wall or bonking. I just lost motivation in this section; the miles ahead just seemed to stretch out forever. I needed to eat, so I tried a gel. It only helped somewhat, so I started focusing on moving just one mile marker to the next. Oh there’s 6!! Hi 6!! Goodbye 6!! Where’s 7?! One by one the markers went by. Heeeeerrrreeee 8….where are you 8….oh there you are!!! Now for 9….. This part of the course along the lake seemed to stretch on and on and on…
Another problem I was having in this stretch was that I wasn’t breathing evenly. I was taking these short, gaspy breaths. I wasn’t relaxed, maybe I was started to feel a little of the panic from thinking about all the miles ahead. I focused on nice full even breaths. Stay relaxed, stay easy, stay with it…
It wasn’t until mile 10 or so that we left the lake and started running on streets again. Once I reached this point, I got some ideas as to why the run along the lake was such a low—no spectators, no noise, nothing to look at but the limestone path ahead of you and the other athletes. I was still jogging along and feeling good, passing walkers and other runners. I wondered if these were the people I’d read about—the ones that take the bike too hard or too fast and blow up on the run. It helped to think that maybe my conservative bike really did work for me.
Around mile 11, I saw the JM’s and slowed to walk with them. But just before I saw them, I decided to get some electrolytes in me, but I had no ice (I had clumsily dumped it again). So I decided to break open an Endurolyte and let the salt dissolve on my tongue. I should have done this in practice—it’s hard to do! I chewed on the end of it and got salt all over my lips and chin. I got a good laugh at how I probably looked to them—like a sloppy drug addict. The combination of a good laugh, seeing the J’s, and getting more than just 30s of walking did wonders for me. It was a huge boost to see them roving the course and it was no act when I said I was having fun. I really was! In just minutes I was ready to run again and said goodbye. It was around this point I saw BN taking pictures. Another surprise! Off to State St!
I sailed into the Capitol area, did the pre-pass of special needs and headed towards the turn-around. I had mentally prepared for this—seeing the finish line and leaving it behind. And in the end, it was painless. I’ll be back, I had no doubts. First loop: about 2hrs 22 mins.
Loop 2:
May it be an evening star
Shines down upon you
May it be when darkness falls
Your heart will be true
You walk a lonely road
Oh! How far you are from home
Mornie utúlië (darkness has come)
Believe and you will find your way
Mornie alantië (darkness has fallen)
A promise lives within you now
I had told myself that if I was feeling good and enjoying the race, I’d put on the honeybee headband the husband bought for me. I had two thoughts about this. The first was that this was Ironman, and I shouldn’t be screwing around or mocking it. The second was that this was Ironman and I was going to enjoy it! In the end, I grabbed only the headband, some gum, and the mint gels before taking off again. Didn’t need the long sleeved shirt, the weather was still perfect.
Only 13.1 more miles to go, and this time when setting out I knew exactly what to expect on the course—the hills, aid stations, boring areas and exciting ones. Miles 13-15 just flew by, and again I’m sure I saw the family in that section but sitting her now I don’t distinctly remember it. What I do remember is that the crowds loved the honeybee headband. I now have proof that wearing something silly like that does garner you more crowd support. They cheered for the headband and I loved cracking jokes about it. Kids pointed it out to parents and cameras clicked away on it. I was having fun in the first loop, and now even more so! 11 more miles to go!
As the next 8 miles went on, I seemed to be one of a very athletes still jogging. I was passing walkers everywhere, or playing leapfrog with runners who’d run a minute then walk a few. I wondered which was more efficient—a steady jog like mine or the run/walk method. Given that I’d pass the run/walk people then eventually never see them again, my method was working better for me. One surprise around mile 12-13 was seeing MU. He was supposed to be 1-3 hours ahead of me! He was walking, cramped up and low and salt. I gave him all I had in Endurolytes, walked a bit with him, then took off. The second time around the T along the lake, I was ready for the long dismal trail. But what I wasn’t ready for was the dark. I’d seen the generator-run portable lights parked along the trail on my first pass and I knew they’d be turned on for when I came back, but that didn’t help any. While they could have been a bright spot to anticipate in the long dark miles of the trail, instead they were bug-clogged, blinding areas that made the darkness all the darker.
Around mile 18, I turned around the second time on the State St out-n-back. No grapes for me this time. But I did see family!! Mom had a sign that said “chicken dance ahead!” OMG, that’s right!! Only 8 more miles to the chicken dance!! 8 MORE MILES!!!
Heeeeerrrreeeeee mile 19….where are you 19?????.......19?!?!?!? The bike ride I’d just finished hours ago was already forgotten. The swim I’d done this morning seemed like yesterday. Did I really do all that today?
Right around this time, I started to feel some GI distress. Just pain under my diaphragm, no other symptoms (thankfully!). And suddenly I just wanted to walk. I’d run a few mins, then walk 30s, run a few mins then walk 30s. Something was breaking down. I did a quick systems check. No other pains. No cramps, injuries, blisters. Fatigue and mental fuzz at expected levels. Hunger? None. Thirst? Yes. Fuel levels, low but steady intake. Hydration levels? Hydration…? Wait…what…no bathroom break in 4 hours? And I’m thirsty? Am I dehydrated?!?! How did I let this happen??!!
I decided to stop at a porta-potty at the 18-19 aid station to assess hydration. Thankfully there was no line. I stepped into the dark porta-potty and …. Nothing. OK a dribble. YIKES!! But, this is easy to fix. Water and Perform drink are available every mile. I figured I had one more hour to go, plenty of time to crash and burn in dehydration but also enough time to get a lot of fluids in.
It was also at about this time that I realized I was going to come in under 14hrs. My original goal was 13-14 hrs and as close to 13 as possible. If I kept going at my current pace, I’d beat 14hrs. This immensely helped my spirits and I bumbled along the dark trail. Those dismal feelings I’d felt in the first loop were coming back. The lake that reflected a pretty sunset in the first loop was now black and hidden from view. Instead I had a beautiful moon to look at. Halfway between the new moon and first quarter, and hung in a clear quiet sky, the moon was a constant light that I frequently looked up at. I was going to finish this race under that moon, a MLF (moon light finish)!
So at every aid station, I took 2-3 small cups of water or Perform. I was thirsty but cautious about overdoing it. And to my surprise around mile 22, a particularly black section of the course right around the inspirations signs, I ran into MU again. He had recovered from his problems and was back on the run again. We mutually decided that if we could hang together and help each other out, the last 3 miles would fly by. And they did. He needed to walk or I did at times, and by waiting a bit for the other we kept our energy going. By mile 24, our pace had definitely picked up and we were looking and feeling strong. He encouraged me to stick with him until State St, at which point he was going to take off and I was going to watch for family. We passed athletes still on the outbound of the course, being warned by volunteers that they had just over 3 hours left to go. Gut-check time for them, finish line time for me. Mile 25 was a breeze into the crowds of State Street.
Only 13.1 more miles to go, and this time when setting out I knew exactly what to expect on the course—the hills, aid stations, boring areas and exciting ones. Miles 13-15 just flew by, and again I’m sure I saw the family in that section but sitting her now I don’t distinctly remember it. What I do remember is that the crowds loved the honeybee headband. I now have proof that wearing something silly like that does garner you more crowd support. They cheered for the headband and I loved cracking jokes about it. Kids pointed it out to parents and cameras clicked away on it. I was having fun in the first loop, and now even more so! 11 more miles to go!
As the next 8 miles went on, I seemed to be one of a very athletes still jogging. I was passing walkers everywhere, or playing leapfrog with runners who’d run a minute then walk a few. I wondered which was more efficient—a steady jog like mine or the run/walk method. Given that I’d pass the run/walk people then eventually never see them again, my method was working better for me. One surprise around mile 12-13 was seeing MU. He was supposed to be 1-3 hours ahead of me! He was walking, cramped up and low and salt. I gave him all I had in Endurolytes, walked a bit with him, then took off. The second time around the T along the lake, I was ready for the long dismal trail. But what I wasn’t ready for was the dark. I’d seen the generator-run portable lights parked along the trail on my first pass and I knew they’d be turned on for when I came back, but that didn’t help any. While they could have been a bright spot to anticipate in the long dark miles of the trail, instead they were bug-clogged, blinding areas that made the darkness all the darker.
Around mile 18, I turned around the second time on the State St out-n-back. No grapes for me this time. But I did see family!! Mom had a sign that said “chicken dance ahead!” OMG, that’s right!! Only 8 more miles to the chicken dance!! 8 MORE MILES!!!
Heeeeerrrreeeeee mile 19….where are you 19?????.......19?!?!?!? The bike ride I’d just finished hours ago was already forgotten. The swim I’d done this morning seemed like yesterday. Did I really do all that today?
Right around this time, I started to feel some GI distress. Just pain under my diaphragm, no other symptoms (thankfully!). And suddenly I just wanted to walk. I’d run a few mins, then walk 30s, run a few mins then walk 30s. Something was breaking down. I did a quick systems check. No other pains. No cramps, injuries, blisters. Fatigue and mental fuzz at expected levels. Hunger? None. Thirst? Yes. Fuel levels, low but steady intake. Hydration levels? Hydration…? Wait…what…no bathroom break in 4 hours? And I’m thirsty? Am I dehydrated?!?! How did I let this happen??!!
I decided to stop at a porta-potty at the 18-19 aid station to assess hydration. Thankfully there was no line. I stepped into the dark porta-potty and …. Nothing. OK a dribble. YIKES!! But, this is easy to fix. Water and Perform drink are available every mile. I figured I had one more hour to go, plenty of time to crash and burn in dehydration but also enough time to get a lot of fluids in.
It was also at about this time that I realized I was going to come in under 14hrs. My original goal was 13-14 hrs and as close to 13 as possible. If I kept going at my current pace, I’d beat 14hrs. This immensely helped my spirits and I bumbled along the dark trail. Those dismal feelings I’d felt in the first loop were coming back. The lake that reflected a pretty sunset in the first loop was now black and hidden from view. Instead I had a beautiful moon to look at. Halfway between the new moon and first quarter, and hung in a clear quiet sky, the moon was a constant light that I frequently looked up at. I was going to finish this race under that moon, a MLF (moon light finish)!
So at every aid station, I took 2-3 small cups of water or Perform. I was thirsty but cautious about overdoing it. And to my surprise around mile 22, a particularly black section of the course right around the inspirations signs, I ran into MU again. He had recovered from his problems and was back on the run again. We mutually decided that if we could hang together and help each other out, the last 3 miles would fly by. And they did. He needed to walk or I did at times, and by waiting a bit for the other we kept our energy going. By mile 24, our pace had definitely picked up and we were looking and feeling strong. He encouraged me to stick with him until State St, at which point he was going to take off and I was going to watch for family. We passed athletes still on the outbound of the course, being warned by volunteers that they had just over 3 hours left to go. Gut-check time for them, finish line time for me. Mile 25 was a breeze into the crowds of State Street.
IMWI 2010 T2
T2: bike to run transition.
Pain. OMG, did my feet HURT. The pain I was ignoring in the last few miles of the bike was still there, I must have blocked it out? I couldn't walk! But I bit it back and focused.
I handed Frea off to a catcher, but not before I thanked her for a good ride and gave a light pat on the aerobars. Now off to T2.
Limp, limp, limp. I couldn't put pressure on the balls of my feet! How was I going to run?!? I hobbled off to T2, was handed my bag, and gimped to a chair. It felt so good to sit down, but I kept in mind what PS had advised me: T2 is a negative place, don't stay there too long. So I got moving again. What did I need?
All bike gear off. More than happy to remove the shoes, helmet, and gloves. Change shorts for a fresher feeling. Put the club singlet on. Grab my ziplock bag of goodies. Get some water. Pull on the Brooks. I was moving through a well-rehearsed routine.
I looked to my right, only to see a fellow athlete who had crashed on the bike. Road rash all down one side. And she was going back out. Focus on me, don't worry about her.
Soon enough I was on my feet again, and surprisingly they were feeling good. I stopped at the sunscreen station, hell yeah I wanted sunscreen! Then a bathroom break. Then ... my family!! Right outside bathrooms, with signs and hats and cheers. There is a picture of me and dad at this point, I love this pict!
I kept moving, there was so much I wanted to say but I had to keep moving. My feet felt great all the sudden, no pain at all! I rounded a left turn, passed under the arch, and took in a beautiful visual of the state capital.
Time to RUN!
"It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something."
Pain. OMG, did my feet HURT. The pain I was ignoring in the last few miles of the bike was still there, I must have blocked it out? I couldn't walk! But I bit it back and focused.
I handed Frea off to a catcher, but not before I thanked her for a good ride and gave a light pat on the aerobars. Now off to T2.
Limp, limp, limp. I couldn't put pressure on the balls of my feet! How was I going to run?!? I hobbled off to T2, was handed my bag, and gimped to a chair. It felt so good to sit down, but I kept in mind what PS had advised me: T2 is a negative place, don't stay there too long. So I got moving again. What did I need?
All bike gear off. More than happy to remove the shoes, helmet, and gloves. Change shorts for a fresher feeling. Put the club singlet on. Grab my ziplock bag of goodies. Get some water. Pull on the Brooks. I was moving through a well-rehearsed routine.
I looked to my right, only to see a fellow athlete who had crashed on the bike. Road rash all down one side. And she was going back out. Focus on me, don't worry about her.
Soon enough I was on my feet again, and surprisingly they were feeling good. I stopped at the sunscreen station, hell yeah I wanted sunscreen! Then a bathroom break. Then ... my family!! Right outside bathrooms, with signs and hats and cheers. There is a picture of me and dad at this point, I love this pict!
I kept moving, there was so much I wanted to say but I had to keep moving. My feet felt great all the sudden, no pain at all! I rounded a left turn, passed under the arch, and took in a beautiful visual of the state capital.
Time to RUN!
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