Guess What??? I'm an IRONMAN!!! (copied from Cindy's blog-see the original location for the pics: http://graphixdivasblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/guess-what-im-ironman.html )
On August 28, 2011, I joined the ranks of those who proudly call themselves IRONMAN. What a ride!
(NB: I'll post more pics later, including my Finish Line photo, these are some candids).
The day dawned early - the ice machine outside my hotel room was active at 4am. (Sheesh people, it's just going to melt anyways!) I chewed thru my quinoa and cranberry cereal (modified recipe from Quinoa 365), lathered up the sunscreen, even in areas that wouldn't see the sun, suited up in my TTL gear, filled my water bottles with ice (that would promptly melt), and headed into the dawn. Athletes were drawn to the centre of the beach by an unseen magnet, quiet with anticipation. Ah, the atmosphere of an Ironman morning is unmatched for its energy, the air tastes acrid and sweet at the same time. Maybe it's the adrenaline, maybe it's the atheletes knowing that their time, their day, it has arrived.
Getting everything into T1 was easy - uncrowded, unhurried, time seemed to expand. There wasn't even a line at the portapotties! And then time started to contract: people exponentially multiplied, I started to see familiar faces, lots of hugs, back to the portapotty (there's a line now), then off to find my wetsuit fitter; Tara B is far and away the BEST amateur wetsuit fitter I've even known (she should go pro). She wrestled me into that thing, no gaps or pulling away from my neck, a perfect fit. Time shrunk again and I needed to get onto the beach. Angie A snagged me at the line for a good luck hug and some sage advice that likely saved my race (thanks Angie!) - but I'll get to that in a few moments.
The Swim: 3.8km
I found my spot on the beach, then waded into the water. I didn't want to be too far back, as I am a strong enough swimmer that I can handle a few bumps, and I wanted to find some feet to follow. Easier said than done! From the moment my face hit the water, there was constant contact from the other competitors, all of us wanted to share the same space, swim the same line. Egads, it was chaos! In spite of the chaos, I didn't panic - I kept moving forward, one stroke after the other, I found a rhythm in the chaos and pushing and bumping and kicking and punching and shoving. Then came the heel to my left eye. Sheesh, that one hurt. I honestly thought that when I surfaced on the beach I'd have a black eye. And the suction on my goggles got extra tight, like it was sucking my eyeball out!! With all the jostling around, I didn't want to stop to adjust my goggles, so I kept on swimming. The second corner was worse than the first! I popped my head up to sight on the next buoy and ran into a wall of people! I muttered, "Where are we going?" and heard several people chuckle and say "good question!" The swim back to the beach didn't improve much, lots of contact. I tried all kinds of strategies, speed up, slow down, move to either side, but I guess I was just in the mix of it all. And honestly, if I can survive a swim like that, I can survive any kind of swim in the future.
All of that bumping around cost me: based on training swims and previous race results, I had hoped for a faster swim. My swim time is still admirable, I'm just a bit disappointed, because I felt strong, I didn't have to stop and adjust, I swam as smoothly as possible.
Swim: 1:25:36
Swim rank: 110 out of 127 Women 35-39
Swim rank: 2028 out of 2811 overall
T1
Tara B saw me coming and dashed for my bag - thanks Tara! - and I hurried off to claim a seat in the tent. Wow, it was crowded in there, time to get moving and get out of here! The sunscreen station was thorough, thanks, I didn't even get a sliver of a burn all day long (which was one of my biggest concerns). I waved at Madi S and headed for the road.
The Bike: 180km
I love my bike. She's shiny and light and takes me to fun places. Today, she worked hard: the temperature was rapidly rising (it would top out around 35+ degrees) and it was windy and I spilled nutrition and food all over her. What a trooper.
The ride out of town was uneventful, but I was thirsty. Very, very thirsty. So on the way up MacLean Creek road I decided to grab some water at the aid station. Much better. Shannon O and I played leapfrog a few times, as we would all day long, and then I buckled in for the long ride: keep it simple, keep it steady. Drafting was a big problem. I know the marshals did their best, but it was a crowded road and I saw packs of people moving forward. Knowing that the only thing to do was to ride MY ride, I put my head down and kept spinning. The ride up Richter wasn't so bad - everyone complains about it - but I saw Jen S and decided to keep her butt in view the whole way up (as she reminded me, "Let's see if Richelle's spin class pays off!"). At the top I put my foot down for a quick minute to adjust some nutrition bottles and saw Rona S and Leslie Ann M spin past. I gave a quick wave to my support crew Ryan and Emma, then got ready for the fun part: descending Richter's. Wow, I love speed, to the tune of 63km/hour! And gravity is free!
Next up, The Rollers. Now that the sun was viciously beating down on us, the wind also decided to pick up, so the downhill portions were actually hard work. Eventually I made it to the out and back, tore open my Special Needs Bag and devoured some salt tabs, used some chamois butters, and grabbed more water. I know the aid stations ran out later in the day, but rest assured I drank every last drop in the bottles that I picked up. I took the extra salt tabs with me and continued to consume them every hour; I hadn't trained with them, but I bet they saved my body a lot of grief this day. In fact, I was starting to feel a bit nauseous, which I have come to learn means that I'm dangerously close to the limits of exertion. The salt tabs almost instantly took away my nausea. At this point the temperature was ridiculously hot, the sun was beating so hard on my black shorts that they felt like they had spontaneously burst into flame, and I was sweating hard. It was H.O.T.
The climb up Yellow Lake was hard. I kept spinning, I passed people who were walking, I kept spinning, I passed people who were sitting in the shade, I kept spinning. At the top there is no respite, just a short flat stretch before one final climb. I kept spinning, knowing that the downhill into town was within reach. I put a big smile on my face and let my bike carry me home. But wait - the wind was back, right in my face, forcing me to pedal. I kept it light, kept spinning, back to town.
The bike portion was fun: I didn't over-exert myself, I didn't run out of gas, but I did run out of "zip." The heat just sucked it right out of me. My legs weren't heavy, but they weren't full of energy either; I was having an okay day. Did I have expectations for the ride? Sure, I'd love to have been faster, but given the heat, I'm super pleased with my bike results.
Bike Time: 7:19:15
Bike Rank: 121 out of 127 women 35-39
Bike Rank: 2260 out of 2811 overall
This pic was taken by pro Triathlete Jordan Bryden, and I love that I have a smile on my face, sunscreen everywhere, and I'm ready to get it in gear!
T2
In retrospect I should have paid closer attention to the people who took my bike. I crossed the dismount line into T2 and someone grabbed my bike and pointed me in the other direction. That's a lot of trust in a total stranger! Thank-you to the wonderful volunteers who looked after the athletes and our gear.
Into the tent, strip, get dressed, get more sunscreen, get moving.
OUCH!!!!! WHY DO MY FEET HURT!!!!!!
The Run: 42.6km
I have spent countless hours with Sarah PG (thanks Sarah!) at physio sorting out the issues under my toes, and issues with my hips/IT band. Can you believe that neither of these things reared their ugly heads at Ironman? Nope, instead, a whole new problem surfaced: the metatarsals in my feet were THROBBING!!! The big, long foot bones in both feet were screaming at me. Every step was painful. Now what????
I gulped down some Tylenol and set out at a brisk walk, hoping that the pain would go away.
I saw our neighbours Kris and Renata cheering for me, I saw my kids, my family, my sister who came from Ontario to watch me do this crazy thing. Wow, what a rush, the support was overwhelming.
And did I mention it was HOT? I was in danger of overheating, I could tell that my focus was less than perfect, and all I wanted was some air conditioning. I don't do well with heat; I prefer the high-teens to low-twenties for temperature, no humidity, nice and temperate. I melt in the heat, I get instant heat rash, I feel simply wretched in the heat. And now I was faced with running a marathon in the 35+ degree heat. Here is where Angie's sage advice came into play: she suggested that at each aid station I grab a baggie of ice (or a cup of ice) and carry it with me. I could either suck on the ice water, use it to cool myself, or just hold it in my mouth. She was right. I took ice at each aid station and put three cubes down the front and back of my top (I later felt my top and discovered it was deliciously cool, those ice cubes kept my core temp low, to good effect). I avoided the sprinklers as they would simply weigh down my shoes with water and potentially cause blisters. I grabbed a slice of orange and a cup of Coke at the aid stations until my tummy said "eeewww" and I drank water and took salt tabs every hour.
On the way out, I saw Angie and the TTL tent - what a great cheering section! I was disappointed that I wasn't running, but I kept my pace strong. Angie trotted beside me and commented on my fast pace (it's the long legs, Angie) and reminded me that I got to choose how to deal with this dilemma. She was right, I just kept moving forward, no free walking, and then when the downhills approached, I decided to suck it up and run down them (gravity is free!). The running portions got longer and longer, and eventually I passed Shannon (we leapfrogged again - she did wonders for my morale all day, thanks to Shannon for her wisdom and perseverence!) and then she would pass me again. I walked uphill, ran downhill and kept moving forward. I saw my sister at the turn-around in OK Falls, she was pushing Amy, nice to see my family, they all watched me like an exhibit at the zoo as I applied Second Skin to my budding blisters, then I was off again, headed for home. The run back along the lake had cooled down a bit, I actually enjoyed this part of the run, and yes, I was running again, not fast, but faster than walking. I was eating pretzels and soup, sucking on water and ice. By the time I reached town it was dark, kinda eerie. Lots of encouragement from pedestrians along the way, back to town, back to Lakeshore. There was TTL at the turn-around, cheers and high-fives, there was my family, time to get it in gear again. I ran the last kilometer into the finish line, the crowd was fantastic, I had the finisher's chute all to myself, hit the blue carpet and BLISS. I crossed the line! Cindy Spence, you are an Ironman!
I know that my training made it possible to run this marathon. I believe I had the legs for it, that I had the focus for it, that I was ready for it. Once I found my feet (or maybe once they were numbed from the 6 Tylenol I gobbled down), the running seemed easier than walking. I even negative split my marathon, I mean, how crazy is that? I have no ambition to ever run in Boston, and sure, I'd like to improve my 10k PB or feel better running uphill; but, for now, I am pleased with this marathon. I fought back after some serious heat issues, didn't have a single GI issue all day, fueled the marathon portion entirely with on-course nutrition, and finished with a smile.
Marathon time: 6:12:56
Run rank: 1323 out of 167 women 35-39
Run rank: 2195 out of 2811 overall
I love that I'm running with such focus in this photo, I look stronger than I have ever felt, and I'm racing Ironman! (photo courtesy of Jordan Bryden)
Yes, I had to do some walking, but you can see the heat and how much I was sweating in this pic. At least there's a BIG smile on my face!
On Hitting the Blue Carpet: T3
I need to offer up a huge, extra-special thanks to my catchers, Scott and Mike, both from TTL. I was really dazed when I crossed the line, I don't even remember gathering my Finisher shirt or having my photo taken, I think I started to be aware of my surroundings sometime after my first slice of pizza, just as Scott and Mike were saying good-bye. They helped me find a seat, get some food, and stay upright. Thanks guys, you were great.
Over-all Ironman time: 15:14:47
Ironman rank:127/167 women 35-39
Ironman rank: 2197 out of 2811 overall
And now for the thank-you's:
Thank-you to Richelle L, who deserves Coach of the Year for her unending enthusiasm and belief in my abilities, even when I doubted and cursed and raged and laughed.
Thank-you to my sister, Robin M, who flew with my 10-month old niece to be at this momentous event in my life.
Thank-you to the friends who think I've disappeared off the face of the earth (Ironman training is all-consuming, sorry for deserting you) - you know who you are.
Thank-you to the girls who sent me music for my marathon - I thought of you along the journey and call upon your strength.
Thank-you to my daughters, for loving me even when I am a crazy Ironman-in-training.
Thank-you to Ryan, for loving me just because.
I promise to post more pics soon, the official video and pics are coming, they look great, but the download is slow. Stay tuned!
.... what's next?
Well isn't that the question hanging in the air. Yes, I still want to race triathlon. Yes, I miss my mountain bike. Let's wait a few weeks to decide, shall we?
.... and yes, I'm getting the tattoo, I'll post pics of that, too! :)
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Cindy IronMan
Guess What??? I'm an IRONMAN!!!
On August 28, 2011, I joined the ranks of those who proudly call themselves IRONMAN. What a ride!
(NB: I'll post more pics later, including my Finish Line photo, these are some candids).
The day dawned early - the ice machine outside my hotel room was active at 4am. (Sheesh people, it's just going to melt anyways!) I chewed thru my quinoa and cranberry cereal (modified recipe from Quinoa 365), lathered up the sunscreen, even in areas that wouldn't see the sun, suited up in my TTL gear, filled my water bottles with ice (that would promptly melt), and headed into the dawn. Athletes were drawn to the centre of the beach by an unseen magnet, quiet with anticipation. Ah, the atmosphere of an Ironman morning is unmatched for its energy, the air tastes acrid and sweet at the same time. Maybe it's the adrenaline, maybe it's the atheletes knowing that their time, their day, it has arrived.
Getting everything into T1 was easy - uncrowded, unhurried, time seemed to expand. There wasn't even a line at the portapotties! And then time started to contract: people exponentially multiplied, I started to see familiar faces, lots of hugs, back to the portapotty (there's a line now), then off to find my wetsuit fitter; Tara B is far and away the BEST amateur wetsuit fitter I've even known (she should go pro). She wrestled me into that thing, no gaps or pulling away from my neck, a perfect fit. Time shrunk again and I needed to get onto the beach. Angie A snagged me at the line for a good luck hug and some sage advice that likely saved my race (thanks Angie!) - but I'll get to that in a few moments.
The Swim: 3.8km
I found my spot on the beach, then waded into the water. I didn't want to be too far back, as I am a strong enough swimmer that I can handle a few bumps, and I wanted to find some feet to follow. Easier said than done! From the moment my face hit the water, there was constant contact from the other competitors, all of us wanted to share the same space, swim the same line. Egads, it was chaos! In spite of the chaos, I didn't panic - I kept moving forward, one stroke after the other, I found a rhythm in the chaos and pushing and bumping and kicking and punching and shoving. Then came the heel to my left eye. Sheesh, that one hurt. I honestly thought that when I surfaced on the beach I'd have a black eye. And the suction on my goggles got extra tight, like it was sucking my eyeball out!! With all the jostling around, I didn't want to stop to adjust my goggles, so I kept on swimming. The second corner was worse than the first! I popped my head up to sight on the next buoy and ran into a wall of people! I muttered, "Where are we going?" and heard several people chuckle and say "good question!" The swim back to the beach didn't improve much, lots of contact. I tried all kinds of strategies, speed up, slow down, move to either side, but I guess I was just in the mix of it all. And honestly, if I can survive a swim like that, I can survive any kind of swim in the future.
All of that bumping around cost me: based on training swims and previous race results, I had hoped for a faster swim. My swim time is still admirable, I'm just a bit disappointed, because I felt strong, I didn't have to stop and adjust, I swam as smoothly as possible.
Swim: 1:25:36
Swim rank: 110 out of 127 Women 35-39
Swim rank: 2028 out of 2811 overall
T1
Tara B saw me coming and dashed for my bag - thanks Tara! - and I hurried off to claim a seat in the tent. Wow, it was crowded in there, time to get moving and get out of here! The sunscreen station was thorough, thanks, I didn't even get a sliver of a burn all day long (which was one of my biggest concerns). I waved at Madi S and headed for the road.
The Bike: 180km
I love my bike. She's shiny and light and takes me to fun places. Today, she worked hard: the temperature was rapidly rising (it would top out around 35+ degrees) and it was windy and I spilled nutrition and food all over her. What a trooper.
The ride out of town was uneventful, but I was thirsty. Very, very thirsty. So on the way up MacLean Creek road I decided to grab some water at the aid station. Much better. Shannon O and I played leapfrog a few times, as we would all day long, and then I buckled in for the long ride: keep it simple, keep it steady. Drafting was a big problem. I know the marshals did their best, but it was a crowded road and I saw packs of people moving forward. Knowing that the only thing to do was to ride MY ride, I put my head down and kept spinning. The ride up Richter wasn't so bad - everyone complains about it - but I saw Jen S and decided to keep her butt in view the whole way up (as she reminded me, "Let's see if Richelle's spin class pays off!"). At the top I put my foot down for a quick minute to adjust some nutrition bottles and saw Rona S and Leslie Ann M spin past. I gave a quick wave to my support crew Ryan and Emma, then got ready for the fun part: descending Richter's. Wow, I love speed, to the tune of 63km/hour! And gravity is free!
Next up, The Rollers. Now that the sun was viciously beating down on us, the wind also decided to pick up, so the downhill portions were actually hard work. Eventually I made it to the out and back, tore open my Special Needs Bag and devoured some salt tabs, used some chamois butters, and grabbed more water. I know the aid stations ran out later in the day, but rest assured I drank every last drop in the bottles that I picked up. I took the extra salt tabs with me and continued to consume them every hour; I hadn't trained with them, but I bet they saved my body a lot of grief this day. In fact, I was starting to feel a bit nauseous, which I have come to learn means that I'm dangerously close to the limits of exertion. The salt tabs almost instantly took away my nausea. At this point the temperature was ridiculously hot, the sun was beating so hard on my black shorts that they felt like they had spontaneously burst into flame, and I was sweating hard. It was H.O.T.
The climb up Yellow Lake was hard. I kept spinning, I passed people who were walking, I kept spinning, I passed people who were sitting in the shade, I kept spinning. At the top there is no respite, just a short flat stretch before one final climb. I kept spinning, knowing that the downhill into town was within reach. I put a big smile on my face and let my bike carry me home. But wait - the wind was back, right in my face, forcing me to pedal. I kept it light, kept spinning, back to town.
The bike portion was fun: I didn't over-exert myself, I didn't run out of gas, but I did run out of "zip." The heat just sucked it right out of me. My legs weren't heavy, but they weren't full of energy either; I was having an okay day. Did I have expectations for the ride? Sure, I'd love to have been faster, but given the heat, I'm super pleased with my bike results.
Bike Time: 7:19:15
Bike Rank: 121 out of 127 women 35-39
Bike Rank: 2260 out of 2811 overall
This pic was taken by pro Triathlete Jordan Bryden, and I love that I have a smile on my face, sunscreen everywhere, and I'm ready to get it in gear!
T2
In retrospect I should have paid closer attention to the people who took my bike. I crossed the dismount line into T2 and someone grabbed my bike and pointed me in the other direction. That's a lot of trust in a total stranger! Thank-you to the wonderful volunteers who looked after the athletes and our gear.
Into the tent, strip, get dressed, get more sunscreen, get moving.
OUCH!!!!! WHY DO MY FEET HURT!!!!!!
The Run: 42.6km
I have spent countless hours with Sarah PG (thanks Sarah!) at physio sorting out the issues under my toes, and issues with my hips/IT band. Can you believe that neither of these things reared their ugly heads at Ironman? Nope, instead, a whole new problem surfaced: the metatarsals in my feet were THROBBING!!! The big, long foot bones in both feet were screaming at me. Every step was painful. Now what????
I gulped down some Tylenol and set out at a brisk walk, hoping that the pain would go away.
I saw our neighbours Kris and Renata cheering for me, I saw my kids, my family, my sister who came from Ontario to watch me do this crazy thing. Wow, what a rush, the support was overwhelming.
And did I mention it was HOT? I was in danger of overheating, I could tell that my focus was less than perfect, and all I wanted was some air conditioning. I don't do well with heat; I prefer the high-teens to low-twenties for temperature, no humidity, nice and temperate. I melt in the heat, I get instant heat rash, I feel simply wretched in the heat. And now I was faced with running a marathon in the 35+ degree heat. Here is where Angie's sage advice came into play: she suggested that at each aid station I grab a baggie of ice (or a cup of ice) and carry it with me. I could either suck on the ice water, use it to cool myself, or just hold it in my mouth. She was right. I took ice at each aid station and put three cubes down the front and back of my top (I later felt my top and discovered it was deliciously cool, those ice cubes kept my core temp low, to good effect). I avoided the sprinklers as they would simply weigh down my shoes with water and potentially cause blisters. I grabbed a slice of orange and a cup of Coke at the aid stations until my tummy said "eeewww" and I drank water and took salt tabs every hour.
On the way out, I saw Angie and the TTL tent - what a great cheering section! I was disappointed that I wasn't running, but I kept my pace strong. Angie trotted beside me and commented on my fast pace (it's the long legs, Angie) and reminded me that I got to choose how to deal with this dilemma. She was right, I just kept moving forward, no free walking, and then when the downhills approached, I decided to suck it up and run down them (gravity is free!). The running portions got longer and longer, and eventually I passed Shannon (we leapfrogged again - she did wonders for my morale all day, thanks to Shannon for her wisdom and perseverence!) and then she would pass me again. I walked uphill, ran downhill and kept moving forward. I saw my sister at the turn-around in OK Falls, she was pushing Amy, nice to see my family, they all watched me like an exhibit at the zoo as I applied Second Skin to my budding blisters, then I was off again, headed for home. The run back along the lake had cooled down a bit, I actually enjoyed this part of the run, and yes, I was running again, not fast, but faster than walking. I was eating pretzels and soup, sucking on water and ice. By the time I reached town it was dark, kinda eerie. Lots of encouragement from pedestrians along the way, back to town, back to Lakeshore. There was TTL at the turn-around, cheers and high-fives, there was my family, time to get it in gear again. I ran the last kilometer into the finish line, the crowd was fantastic, I had the finisher's chute all to myself, hit the blue carpet and BLISS. I crossed the line! Cindy Spence, you are an Ironman!
I know that my training made it possible to run this marathon. I believe I had the legs for it, that I had the focus for it, that I was ready for it. Once I found my feet (or maybe once they were numbed from the 6 Tylenol I gobbled down), the running seemed easier than walking. I even negative split my marathon, I mean, how crazy is that? I have no ambition to ever run in Boston, and sure, I'd like to improve my 10k PB or feel better running uphill; but, for now, I am pleased with this marathon. I fought back after some serious heat issues, didn't have a single GI issue all day, fueled the marathon portion entirely with on-course nutrition, and finished with a smile.
Marathon time: 6:12:56
Run rank: 1323 out of 167 women 35-39
Run rank: 2195 out of 2811 overall
I love that I'm running with such focus in this photo, I look stronger than I have ever felt, and I'm racing Ironman! (photo courtesy of Jordan Bryden)
Yes, I had to do some walking, but you can see the heat and how much I was sweating in this pic. At least there's a BIG smile on my face!
On Hitting the Blue Carpet: T3
I need to offer up a huge, extra-special thanks to my catchers, Scott and Mike, both from TTL. I was really dazed when I crossed the line, I don't even remember gathering my Finisher shirt or having my photo taken, I think I started to be aware of my surroundings sometime after my first slice of pizza, just as Scott and Mike were saying good-bye. They helped me find a seat, get some food, and stay upright. Thanks guys, you were great.
Over-all Ironman time: 15:14:47
Ironman rank:127/167 women 35-39
Ironman rank: 2197 out of 2811 overall
And now for the thank-you's:
Thank-you to Richelle L, who deserves Coach of the Year for her unending enthusiasm and belief in my abilities, even when I doubted and cursed and raged and laughed.
Thank-you to my sister, Robin M, who flew with my 10-month old niece to be at this momentous event in my life.
Thank-you to the friends who think I've disappeared off the face of the earth (Ironman training is all-consuming, sorry for deserting you) - you know who you are.
Thank-you to the girls who sent me music for my marathon - I thought of you along the journey and call upon your strength.
Thank-you to my daughters, for loving me even when I am a crazy Ironman-in-training.
Thank-you to Ryan, for loving me just because.
I promise to post more pics soon, the official video and pics are coming, they look great, but the download is slow. Stay tuned!
.... what's next?
Well isn't that the question hanging in the air. Yes, I still want to race triathlon. Yes, I miss my mountain bike. Let's wait a few weeks to decide, shall we?
.... and yes, I'm getting the tattoo, I'll post pics of that, too! :)
On August 28, 2011, I joined the ranks of those who proudly call themselves IRONMAN. What a ride!
(NB: I'll post more pics later, including my Finish Line photo, these are some candids).
The day dawned early - the ice machine outside my hotel room was active at 4am. (Sheesh people, it's just going to melt anyways!) I chewed thru my quinoa and cranberry cereal (modified recipe from Quinoa 365), lathered up the sunscreen, even in areas that wouldn't see the sun, suited up in my TTL gear, filled my water bottles with ice (that would promptly melt), and headed into the dawn. Athletes were drawn to the centre of the beach by an unseen magnet, quiet with anticipation. Ah, the atmosphere of an Ironman morning is unmatched for its energy, the air tastes acrid and sweet at the same time. Maybe it's the adrenaline, maybe it's the atheletes knowing that their time, their day, it has arrived.
Getting everything into T1 was easy - uncrowded, unhurried, time seemed to expand. There wasn't even a line at the portapotties! And then time started to contract: people exponentially multiplied, I started to see familiar faces, lots of hugs, back to the portapotty (there's a line now), then off to find my wetsuit fitter; Tara B is far and away the BEST amateur wetsuit fitter I've even known (she should go pro). She wrestled me into that thing, no gaps or pulling away from my neck, a perfect fit. Time shrunk again and I needed to get onto the beach. Angie A snagged me at the line for a good luck hug and some sage advice that likely saved my race (thanks Angie!) - but I'll get to that in a few moments.
The Swim: 3.8km
I found my spot on the beach, then waded into the water. I didn't want to be too far back, as I am a strong enough swimmer that I can handle a few bumps, and I wanted to find some feet to follow. Easier said than done! From the moment my face hit the water, there was constant contact from the other competitors, all of us wanted to share the same space, swim the same line. Egads, it was chaos! In spite of the chaos, I didn't panic - I kept moving forward, one stroke after the other, I found a rhythm in the chaos and pushing and bumping and kicking and punching and shoving. Then came the heel to my left eye. Sheesh, that one hurt. I honestly thought that when I surfaced on the beach I'd have a black eye. And the suction on my goggles got extra tight, like it was sucking my eyeball out!! With all the jostling around, I didn't want to stop to adjust my goggles, so I kept on swimming. The second corner was worse than the first! I popped my head up to sight on the next buoy and ran into a wall of people! I muttered, "Where are we going?" and heard several people chuckle and say "good question!" The swim back to the beach didn't improve much, lots of contact. I tried all kinds of strategies, speed up, slow down, move to either side, but I guess I was just in the mix of it all. And honestly, if I can survive a swim like that, I can survive any kind of swim in the future.
All of that bumping around cost me: based on training swims and previous race results, I had hoped for a faster swim. My swim time is still admirable, I'm just a bit disappointed, because I felt strong, I didn't have to stop and adjust, I swam as smoothly as possible.
Swim: 1:25:36
Swim rank: 110 out of 127 Women 35-39
Swim rank: 2028 out of 2811 overall
T1
Tara B saw me coming and dashed for my bag - thanks Tara! - and I hurried off to claim a seat in the tent. Wow, it was crowded in there, time to get moving and get out of here! The sunscreen station was thorough, thanks, I didn't even get a sliver of a burn all day long (which was one of my biggest concerns). I waved at Madi S and headed for the road.
The Bike: 180km
I love my bike. She's shiny and light and takes me to fun places. Today, she worked hard: the temperature was rapidly rising (it would top out around 35+ degrees) and it was windy and I spilled nutrition and food all over her. What a trooper.
The ride out of town was uneventful, but I was thirsty. Very, very thirsty. So on the way up MacLean Creek road I decided to grab some water at the aid station. Much better. Shannon O and I played leapfrog a few times, as we would all day long, and then I buckled in for the long ride: keep it simple, keep it steady. Drafting was a big problem. I know the marshals did their best, but it was a crowded road and I saw packs of people moving forward. Knowing that the only thing to do was to ride MY ride, I put my head down and kept spinning. The ride up Richter wasn't so bad - everyone complains about it - but I saw Jen S and decided to keep her butt in view the whole way up (as she reminded me, "Let's see if Richelle's spin class pays off!"). At the top I put my foot down for a quick minute to adjust some nutrition bottles and saw Rona S and Leslie Ann M spin past. I gave a quick wave to my support crew Ryan and Emma, then got ready for the fun part: descending Richter's. Wow, I love speed, to the tune of 63km/hour! And gravity is free!
Next up, The Rollers. Now that the sun was viciously beating down on us, the wind also decided to pick up, so the downhill portions were actually hard work. Eventually I made it to the out and back, tore open my Special Needs Bag and devoured some salt tabs, used some chamois butters, and grabbed more water. I know the aid stations ran out later in the day, but rest assured I drank every last drop in the bottles that I picked up. I took the extra salt tabs with me and continued to consume them every hour; I hadn't trained with them, but I bet they saved my body a lot of grief this day. In fact, I was starting to feel a bit nauseous, which I have come to learn means that I'm dangerously close to the limits of exertion. The salt tabs almost instantly took away my nausea. At this point the temperature was ridiculously hot, the sun was beating so hard on my black shorts that they felt like they had spontaneously burst into flame, and I was sweating hard. It was H.O.T.
The climb up Yellow Lake was hard. I kept spinning, I passed people who were walking, I kept spinning, I passed people who were sitting in the shade, I kept spinning. At the top there is no respite, just a short flat stretch before one final climb. I kept spinning, knowing that the downhill into town was within reach. I put a big smile on my face and let my bike carry me home. But wait - the wind was back, right in my face, forcing me to pedal. I kept it light, kept spinning, back to town.
The bike portion was fun: I didn't over-exert myself, I didn't run out of gas, but I did run out of "zip." The heat just sucked it right out of me. My legs weren't heavy, but they weren't full of energy either; I was having an okay day. Did I have expectations for the ride? Sure, I'd love to have been faster, but given the heat, I'm super pleased with my bike results.
Bike Time: 7:19:15
Bike Rank: 121 out of 127 women 35-39
Bike Rank: 2260 out of 2811 overall
This pic was taken by pro Triathlete Jordan Bryden, and I love that I have a smile on my face, sunscreen everywhere, and I'm ready to get it in gear!
T2
In retrospect I should have paid closer attention to the people who took my bike. I crossed the dismount line into T2 and someone grabbed my bike and pointed me in the other direction. That's a lot of trust in a total stranger! Thank-you to the wonderful volunteers who looked after the athletes and our gear.
Into the tent, strip, get dressed, get more sunscreen, get moving.
OUCH!!!!! WHY DO MY FEET HURT!!!!!!
The Run: 42.6km
I have spent countless hours with Sarah PG (thanks Sarah!) at physio sorting out the issues under my toes, and issues with my hips/IT band. Can you believe that neither of these things reared their ugly heads at Ironman? Nope, instead, a whole new problem surfaced: the metatarsals in my feet were THROBBING!!! The big, long foot bones in both feet were screaming at me. Every step was painful. Now what????
I gulped down some Tylenol and set out at a brisk walk, hoping that the pain would go away.
I saw our neighbours Kris and Renata cheering for me, I saw my kids, my family, my sister who came from Ontario to watch me do this crazy thing. Wow, what a rush, the support was overwhelming.
And did I mention it was HOT? I was in danger of overheating, I could tell that my focus was less than perfect, and all I wanted was some air conditioning. I don't do well with heat; I prefer the high-teens to low-twenties for temperature, no humidity, nice and temperate. I melt in the heat, I get instant heat rash, I feel simply wretched in the heat. And now I was faced with running a marathon in the 35+ degree heat. Here is where Angie's sage advice came into play: she suggested that at each aid station I grab a baggie of ice (or a cup of ice) and carry it with me. I could either suck on the ice water, use it to cool myself, or just hold it in my mouth. She was right. I took ice at each aid station and put three cubes down the front and back of my top (I later felt my top and discovered it was deliciously cool, those ice cubes kept my core temp low, to good effect). I avoided the sprinklers as they would simply weigh down my shoes with water and potentially cause blisters. I grabbed a slice of orange and a cup of Coke at the aid stations until my tummy said "eeewww" and I drank water and took salt tabs every hour.
On the way out, I saw Angie and the TTL tent - what a great cheering section! I was disappointed that I wasn't running, but I kept my pace strong. Angie trotted beside me and commented on my fast pace (it's the long legs, Angie) and reminded me that I got to choose how to deal with this dilemma. She was right, I just kept moving forward, no free walking, and then when the downhills approached, I decided to suck it up and run down them (gravity is free!). The running portions got longer and longer, and eventually I passed Shannon (we leapfrogged again - she did wonders for my morale all day, thanks to Shannon for her wisdom and perseverence!) and then she would pass me again. I walked uphill, ran downhill and kept moving forward. I saw my sister at the turn-around in OK Falls, she was pushing Amy, nice to see my family, they all watched me like an exhibit at the zoo as I applied Second Skin to my budding blisters, then I was off again, headed for home. The run back along the lake had cooled down a bit, I actually enjoyed this part of the run, and yes, I was running again, not fast, but faster than walking. I was eating pretzels and soup, sucking on water and ice. By the time I reached town it was dark, kinda eerie. Lots of encouragement from pedestrians along the way, back to town, back to Lakeshore. There was TTL at the turn-around, cheers and high-fives, there was my family, time to get it in gear again. I ran the last kilometer into the finish line, the crowd was fantastic, I had the finisher's chute all to myself, hit the blue carpet and BLISS. I crossed the line! Cindy Spence, you are an Ironman!
I know that my training made it possible to run this marathon. I believe I had the legs for it, that I had the focus for it, that I was ready for it. Once I found my feet (or maybe once they were numbed from the 6 Tylenol I gobbled down), the running seemed easier than walking. I even negative split my marathon, I mean, how crazy is that? I have no ambition to ever run in Boston, and sure, I'd like to improve my 10k PB or feel better running uphill; but, for now, I am pleased with this marathon. I fought back after some serious heat issues, didn't have a single GI issue all day, fueled the marathon portion entirely with on-course nutrition, and finished with a smile.
Marathon time: 6:12:56
Run rank: 1323 out of 167 women 35-39
Run rank: 2195 out of 2811 overall
I love that I'm running with such focus in this photo, I look stronger than I have ever felt, and I'm racing Ironman! (photo courtesy of Jordan Bryden)
Yes, I had to do some walking, but you can see the heat and how much I was sweating in this pic. At least there's a BIG smile on my face!
On Hitting the Blue Carpet: T3
I need to offer up a huge, extra-special thanks to my catchers, Scott and Mike, both from TTL. I was really dazed when I crossed the line, I don't even remember gathering my Finisher shirt or having my photo taken, I think I started to be aware of my surroundings sometime after my first slice of pizza, just as Scott and Mike were saying good-bye. They helped me find a seat, get some food, and stay upright. Thanks guys, you were great.
Over-all Ironman time: 15:14:47
Ironman rank:127/167 women 35-39
Ironman rank: 2197 out of 2811 overall
And now for the thank-you's:
Thank-you to Richelle L, who deserves Coach of the Year for her unending enthusiasm and belief in my abilities, even when I doubted and cursed and raged and laughed.
Thank-you to my sister, Robin M, who flew with my 10-month old niece to be at this momentous event in my life.
Thank-you to the friends who think I've disappeared off the face of the earth (Ironman training is all-consuming, sorry for deserting you) - you know who you are.
Thank-you to the girls who sent me music for my marathon - I thought of you along the journey and call upon your strength.
Thank-you to my daughters, for loving me even when I am a crazy Ironman-in-training.
Thank-you to Ryan, for loving me just because.
I promise to post more pics soon, the official video and pics are coming, they look great, but the download is slow. Stay tuned!
.... what's next?
Well isn't that the question hanging in the air. Yes, I still want to race triathlon. Yes, I miss my mountain bike. Let's wait a few weeks to decide, shall we?
.... and yes, I'm getting the tattoo, I'll post pics of that, too! :)
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Scott's 24 hours of adrenaline race report
Surviving 24 Hours On a Mountain Bike by Scott Thomson with commentary from Cindy Chetley-Thomson
July 2001 – May 2011
In preparing for and completing IMC in 2010, I put into question an accomplishment I completed 10 years ago - the 24 Hours of Adrenalin mountain bike race solo. The concept of the race is to complete as many laps of the course as you can in 24 hours. The course is18.5km with 1620 ft elevation climb and 1620 ft downhill over a mix of easy, technical and difficult terrain. The racers can do this in teams or solo. The ranking is done by highest number of laps, if there’s a tie then time is used. One important rule is if you cross the finish line before 23 hours you must do another lap and complete it finished 25 hours.
I thought I was done with the race and didn’t need to come back to it, but doing IMC made me consider redoing this race because of some core items I learned from the process of truly preparing and executing a race. Prior to IMC I would classify myself as a solid weekend warrior athlete - get off the couch, do what I could, and recover through the week. When I last did the 24H race solo I thought Ironman was just for crazies, who would want to do that? It was just so big. So instead I’d go ride a mountain bike for 24 hours – yeah, they were crazy. Once Cindy started doing Ironman with a coach, I was older and wiser so I figured I too would try a coach instead of the couch to do IMC. I figured I’d survive better, which I did, but in the process I felt like I had unfinished business with the 24H race because I had not been properly prepared.
The key elements I learned from Ironman training (and my wonderful coaches/team mates) were: training, pacing, nutrition, medical, and recovery. Consider my training plan a decade ago: a handful of 2-3 hour MTB rides a few weekends before the race and one 120k cold turkey night road ride from 8 PM – 1:30 AM. Crazy? A bit as my bike lights didn’t last the entire ride, had no cell phone, and enough food for 2 hours not 5 ½ hours. Pacing? What was that? I went out hard and tried to keep moving by bouncing off trees and avoid doing endos. Fuel? Well let’s just say I learned I had no idea back then. I ate the wrong things at the wrong times. OMG! What was I thinking with the exercise on all you can eat PB&J sandwiches. Medically, I didn’t having a frigg’n clue what I was doing to myself by ‘training only on weekends’. I likely made the race harder than if I had just done it cold turkey. I now see myself as lucky to have survived last time, though I did end up with an injury that I didn’t take care of until I started IM training. Recovery at that time was a close descendant of a drinking game known as ‘hair of the dog’, it went like this: it hurts, oh better go do some more. Then post biking going for beer, nachos and wings. What do you think, is that good recovery food? Uh, NO. So 10 years later I thought I was a bit more enlightened. I signed up to re-do the 24 Hour solo race then realized mid-winter I was having difficulty finding the motivation to train so I did Ironman St. George to help me train for it, talk about ass-backwards.
June 2011 – July 22 2011
June was a fast transition from road to mountain bike training to de-rust my technical skills. Really I was working to challenge the TTL coaches with now only 2 months to race date. The hard part of MTB training is the different culture involved, post ride beer and nachos was hard to avoid, and getting dirty is part of the adventure here adding to bike maintenance time and budget. My training consisted of swimming twice a week, running once a week and biking 4 days a week. The biking was a mix between long road rides, moderately long MTB rides and shorter harder hills or technical riding. Five days before the race I got sick and did nothing, kind of a forced taper. The fever broke the day before the race and I could start eating again, yeah. OK, now let’s see how much better I could do than last time ;-).
The night before race start, I went to setup my transition area on ‘pit row’ in the wind and rain only to discover someone else setup in my spot, so I had to take his. My pit had a table for food, a few lawn chairs, and a tent so I could lie down or change as the race went on. It also contained a bike stand, lots of spare clothing, tools, a second bike and acted as shelter for my crew; I had three great pit members Cindy, Chris and Kelvin. One small screw up was the camping tent I brought took up all the space under the 10 x 10 tent borrowed from Carla (thank-you Carla), so I used duct tape and ingenuity to make it take ¼ its initial size and still work. Other solo tents had side panels on their tents in case of rain. We had rain but no side protection so Cindy had to run to town to buy a tarp (I considered using more duct tape instead of the tarp, but didn’t have enough). I also had our travel trailer so staying dry sleeping in a real bed with heat, a bathroom, and a kitchen the night before the race was a significant step up from 10 years prior when we slept in a tent (what was I thinking?). It also made for a comfortable place for my support crew to hang out and sleep in while I was riding.
CINDY: Our pit tent looked like something from a shantytown. We were definitely outclassed next to the sponsored riders with their fancy-shmancy tents, coffee urns, itemized clothing hangers and reclining lawn chairs. Not to be out done, I grabbed a few hangers from the trailer and hung some of Scott’s clothes from the tent. Surveying our buffet of salty junk food and sugar-laden treats, and comparing it to those around us I realized we had nothing of any nutritional value. I made a note to get some fruit and yogurt from the trailer. The tents across from us were mostly crewed by women, none of whom looked like they had any athletic background, a guy who looked like he would be more comfortable sitting in front of a computer, and set of elderly parents. We might not have the schwankiest tent but we had technical acumen, and an in-depth understanding of an endurance athletes needs that can only be achieved by personal experience. We were going to be the kick-butt pit crew.
June 23 2011 – 12:00 noon
Lap 1 (12:00-2:00 pm) Before I knew it, it was noon and race start. It began with a 1 km run to spread the ~300 hundred riders out before hitting the trails. I did a slow jog, and was likely the 4th last rider out on the trail. This was part of my plan as I was happier going slower the first lap to avoid getting injured by someone else (a very common issue for the first lap). The first lap had rain and was extremely muddy. I had to stop a few times to scoop mud out of my gears and wheel clearance areas. The mud was like peanut butter, about 3 jars worth, stuck to my tires, frame and body. I had to scoop out 4 hand-fulls 3 times. It was getting so packed in it was like riding with the brakes on and 3 gears too hard, not fun. I held an excruciatingly slow pace and found when I hit the first stretch of single track it paid off as the line of riders was just as slow and wheel to wheel as far as you could see, about 40 riders were actually behind me at this point, don’t know how I passed them. Then about 1/3 of the way around everyone disappeared and I was riding alone, a bit of a blessing, but also spooky. I figured it was a combination of my middle of the pack climbing ability (holding me with the starting group) and gravitational downhill advantage (lots of weight and comfort with speed) placing me in a gap between the riders. First lap (time 1:57, average speed 8.4km/h) including my pit-row break to allow my bike to have a quick lube and cleaning, not bad holding the pace I wanted.
CINDY: Riders were coming into the pit area with mud-caked bikes. Okay, people let’s see how you handle muddy bikes. Lady across from us pulled out a scrub brush and got to work, elderly couple jumped the fence with their rider’s bike and hit the bike wash. Riders of fancy dressed trio of ladies and computer guy switched bikes, so they used the bike wash. Watching this unfold while waiting for Scott I realize technical acumen we may have, but something to clean Scott’s bike with we do not. Kelvin borrowed the scrub brush from the lady across from us while I scavenged up water. Scott didn’t want to switch bikes so we cleaned what we could, which wasn’t much. So we now had the ugliest tent, the dirtiest bike, the least nutritional food, and our rider was almost last. It was becoming apparent we were going to have to step up our game. I recorded the calorie intake for the lap: Scott – 250, me – 670. Clearly sitting across a table laden with junk food for 2 hours isn’t a good idea. 22 hours to go.
Lap 2 (2:00 – 4:00 pm): I still had lots of space around me on the trail, still a bit spooky being all alone when riding with 300 other bikers, makes you question a wrong turn. The rain and mud were getting lighter. My pace was good and I found it easy to take in the fluids and fuel for aid station 1 and 2 without stopping, but station 3 was too short a leg that went straight into technical single track so I skipped taking anything here for a few laps. I replaced my wet weather gloves with regular bike gloves and dropped the vest I had in my pocket this time.
CINDY: How did those women get those bikes so clean so fast!? I managed to wrangle up a few face cloths and a sponge from the trailer. I filled every spare water bottle figuring Scott’s already drinking from a dirty water bottle it won’t kill him to keep it for another lap. I need to get his bike clean. Those women may be able to keep bikes clean but just wait until they have to handle a mechanical. Then we’ll see who cracks. Computer guy’s rider comes in grumbling that he feels like he’s on lap 7. Kelvin and I exchange a look and snicker. He’s not going to last long.
Lap 3 (4:00-6:00 pm): I think it was about this point that I had finished sweating out the remainder of being sick before the race. My fuel intake was good and pace was right in the range I wanted. I could go faster but knew I’d pay for it if I did. My legs felt really good, power when I needed it, no burning or pain. The other teams had spread out enough now that they passed me on most up hills. It was seldom a problem for them as there was either enough room to squeeze by or I would step off the trail for a moment to let them past. This was part of my plan as I did not want to get hurt by someone only doing 1-2 laps and taking stupid chances to save themselves 10 seconds on a 1 hour lap. I had an 86,400 second race and 10s was not worth risking finishing. I did find I only got passed on the downhill’s by the top riders maybe 5 times through the whole race, this is where my biking is strongest, going downhill fast and technical (ok gravitational advantage), always the reward for slogging up then flying down.
CINDY: Watched an unappetizing display as a pit crew starts pouring rice pudding into Ziploc bags, even more unappetizing was watching their rider guzzle it down through a hole in the corner of the bag. I BBQ some burgers for supper at the trailer. Kelvin starts cleaning Scott’s spare bike. I know Scott’s trying to pace himself but he’s now 2 laps behind the faster guys and still hasn’t passed the old guy across with us who has no muscle tone. I want to tell him to pick it up but bite my tongue instead.
Lap 4 (6:00-8:00 pm): I almost ran over a dead squirrel in the middle of the trail on the corner of a drop, spooked me as I was going 40 km/h and it was getting dusk. Fear not as soon as I hit the uphill my speed dropped like a rock (3-7 km/h, yeah I was slower than a snail, actually think one passed me on lap 5, but it was getting dark so hard to tell).
CINDY: Designer ladies’ rider hands them his bike all agitated and barking orders then hops on his spare bike and rides away. Ha, ha – a mechanical. I watch how they’re going to handle this. One of the ladies wheels the bike our way. “Do you know where the bike mechanic is?” I point toward the lodge. She thanks me then strolls away returning 20 minutes later with the bike fixed. Grrr.
Lap 5 (8:00 – 10:20 pm): Changed bikes and helmets so the crew could mount my lights I had asked the guys to have my backup lights mounted on my spare (non-suspension) bike and helmet. I kind-of forgot to tell them which my spare (secondary) lights were. They did their part and would have been a slick transition if I had not needed the extra rest and sat down in my pit to take off the compression socks, about where I was expecting, they helped but the squeeze they provide lost its comfort and started bugging me.
CINDY: Scott wants us to mount the lights on his bikes and helmet. He mumbles something about primary and secondary lights. We look at the lights. None of us can see a difference between them. We shrug and mount them where ever. I change into my PJs for the night thankful for the cover of darkness as I realize, much to my embarrassment, that with my Ironman jacket, cap, Ironmom shirt, and Ironman flannel pants I’m a walking billboard. I really need some non-athletic brand clothes.
Lap 6 (10:20 pm – 12:43 am): Glad to remount the nice bike with the better lights. The temperature was going down so I put on a vest and arm warmers for this lap, the warmers just didn’t stay up very well (considered using duct tape to fix them but didn’t want to stop). Everything but the butt felt great to this point, butt was only a bit sore, legs were happy to keep spinning and technically everything felt good. My butt was really happy to switch back to the full suspension bike. Most notable on this lap was me and another rider got passed too close by a ‘rookie’ rider that pushed us both off the trial (this is just as annoying as drafting in a race). Unfortunately this caused a hard stop because I didn’t have enough room to clear a tree, ouch and inner swear, same thing for the other rider on the other side of the trail. The rookie seemed to snake past without stopping or falling by narrow dumb luck. Then 20 seconds later I saw the same rookie righting his bike from an endo; obviously he is riding faster than his abilities (isn’t fate cool). I let my emotions ride for 5 minutes here, as he did not wait for a traffic gap to start but cut me off causing me to almost endo with the brake slam. It was on a fast fun part of the trail that is a gentle downhill so I could ride it fast, I’ve been over this part many times already and knew every turn and line so I chased him, hard. I gave him little to no space and pushed him down this part way faster than he wanted as he pissed me off. He kept shoulder checking and was clearly surprised that a solo rider was so close and fast, clearly he had no interest in getting out of the way of a faster rider, if he only knew that come the next hill I couldn’t hold him for the life of me, hey live the moment. Retrospect, this was the wrong way to handle it but I gave myself a 5-minute emotional indulgence to defend my technical riding ability.
CINDY: As soon as Scott is out of sight I leave the other support crews bundled in blankets trying to catch an hour of sleep in their lawn chairs for my castle of luxury with its heat and soft queen bed. I have at least 2 hours. Scott can take as long as he wants. Returning to the pit I grab some free popcorn.
Lap 7 (12:43 - 4:10 am): Start my lap but would have been done if this were IMC, so only 11 hours more to go. Feeling surprisingly good, must have been not having to do a run ;-). It was getting colder so before starting this one changed my shorts, shirt and vest, it did help to remove the hours of soaked in sweat. Crazy part of this lap was I almost hit a deer at 30 km/h on a fast downhill corner on this lap out in the meadow (risk of night riding, heart still works as the encounter definitely gave me an adrenaline spike). So far with the proper training, fuelling and pacing I was feeling better than a decade ago. I finished lap 7, tying the # of laps and 8 hours ahead of what I did 10 years ago. In retrospect this is where my HR also started to change, indicating I was running out of the non-fat fuels, I didn’t notice until data investigation.
Riding alone in the woods in the middle of the night is a strange sensation as all you can see is either the bit of trail you are lighting up or the odd rider off in the distance looking like a firefly. This part of the race is typically the make or break point as riding in the dark tends to take away some of the sensory feedback, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Hills become a bit easier as all you can see is the 10 feet directly in front of you, helping the mental focus to what is controllable and eliminating the rest of the stuff past it. Unfortunately not being able to clearly see what gear you are in is a bit tougher as I often wanted an easier gear and it just wasn’t there. Night riding is an experience that I suggest anyone try, its closest comparison to triathlon is to swimming in a dark murky lake with no visibility, just faster.
CINDY: Return to pit area to see paramedics at designer ladies tent. Their rider gets hauled away in a stretcher. I almost feel sorry for the riderless crew but not quite, they get to go home. Scott just moved up a spot. I notice computer guy’s rider is sitting in a lawn chair still wearing his sunglasses mummified in a blanket. He can sit there as long as he likes, Scott’s tied him laps. No muscle tone guy is hibernating in his tent and has been since midnight. He can stay there, Scott’s passed him up – finally. Scott decides to take a 30-minute break and lays down in the tent. We sit out in the cold. I light a small portable fire can for heat but it’s useless. Practically have to stick my hand in the flame to get any warmth. Chris gives me hot shots to hold. Exactly 30 minutes later I wake up Scott. He says he needs another 15 mins. Grrr. 45 minutes! If he would have just said that at the beginning we could have went back to the trailer. Watch the minutes pass and push him out 15 minutes later as fast as possible so I can return to the trailer.
Lap 8 (4:10 – 8:47 am): Feeling better than before so I gave myself permission to lay down for 20 minutes before beginning lap 8, which turned into 45 and didn’t help me any. Stopping was a bad thing as the aches and pains came out. I lost my power to climb hills, but still had good speed and leg turn over everywhere else. Coldest ride of the day. Struggled through the lap but my mind and body were no longer in it. I had to walk stuff that I should have been riding, I just felt like my motor was miss firing. I started getting clumsy, slipping on parts that I shouldn’t, bounced off a few trees with glancing blows (hurts much more now than 10 years back). Got to see the sun rise as I went through the far meadow, but the typical high it gives was not there. I needed more rest. Got back to the pit-row around 6:30 a.m. and went to the trailer for some real sleep. I gave instructions to be woken up at 8 a.m. to give me the potential for 2 more laps, closed my eyes for what seemed just a second then recall Cindy trying to pull me out of my coma. Actual finish time for lap 8 was at 8:47 a.m., giving me up to 4 hours 13 minutes left to ride. Still felt better than I did for IMSG but I’d be done by the time I started this lap, starting to figure out who the real crazy ones are.
Lesson: no matter how much rest I got at this point it would not be enough to benefit my speed or ability. It only gave the fatigue a way to sink in. Some riders stopped, as it got dark and slept until morning, they also rode each lap faster. I don’t know if the long break helped them or not but I didn’t see many do more than one lap after restarting. My gut tells me they were hurting for this last lap, I know I was.
CINDY: With Scott away all our thoughts immediately turned to crawling into a warm bed for sleep. We get to the trailer. It’s locked. I left my keys inside, so did Kelvin and Chris. Oh this can’t be happening at 4 friggin, freezing AM in the morning! God, I hate this race! I decide to search the cargo space for a spare key even though I know there won’t be one because Scott gave them all to us, but it was something for me to do to keep from FREAKING OUT! I needed sleep and warmth. I was not going back to that cold, dark, pit-tent. The cargo door wasn’t locked. When I open it I realize I can access the space from under the bed, our hydraulic bed. I crawl into the cargo space and I’m able to lift the bed. There’s just enough room for me to shimmy into the storage space under it. I’m in. Oh, I’m happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. I want to cry. I open the trailer door and we all fall into warm beds. Do I feel bad sleeping in my cozy bed while Scott’s riding sleep deprived in the cold dark? Absolutely not. Scott returns at 6:00 AM and announces he’s going to sleep in the trailer until 8 am. I don’t like this idea. He’s only done 8 laps. His goal is double digits. I don’t want to be back here in another few years because he still has “unfinished business” with this race. Doing a mental calculation he’d still have time for 3 laps so I let him stop.
Lap 9 (8:47 – 11:10 am): Dropped all extra clothing, err I mean, back to shorts and shirt. I was feeling better than lap 8 but the legs started to hurt on the uphills. I had nothing left in the reserve tanks. I could keep moving but could no longer speed up. I got back to the pit and it was a few minutes past 23 hours race time. I knew I could not do a sub 2-hour lap, no matter how hard Cindy tried kicking me in the butt to help me to try one more lap, the butt numbness and fatigue overrode her foot motivation methods. Avoiding a DNF was more important as I was happy with the improvement I had made over a decade ago. So I waited a few minutes at the pit and chatted with the crew before trundling in across the line. Total time 23:06, 18th place solo, had I gone straight in after getting back I would have had 17th place, oops, this is where 3 minutes makes a difference (if you actually care, which at that point I didn’t). If I were in contention for second or third it would have been different, but this is where as a racer my mind was not all there and reliance on the pit-crew to tell me what was going on and what to do kicked in.
CINDY: Whoa! Return to pit area and see 3 tents have been packed up. No muscle tone guy has emerged rested and ready to continue riding. Computer guy’s rider is still mummified in his chair – dude, go home already. Rice pudding guy heads out for lap 15. Freak.
Scott says he only has enough in him for one more lap, but he has enough time for 2. As the morning continues the tents around us start rapidly disappearing. I’m worried that when Scott returns the sight of so many riders quitting will make him want to stop. I’m adamant that we’re not packing anything until Scott’s done his lap. At the time creeps towards 11:00 am, the time you can officially end the race, I’m hoping Scott’s not stopped around the corner waiting so he doesn’t have to do another lap. He has to do another lap. I refuse to come back to this race. After 11 a.m. I reluctantly give the go ahead to Chris and Kelvin to start tearing down the pit. Scott doesn’t have enough time to finish the last lap. Crap!
Scott rides in. I make a last ditch attempt to get him back out for lap 10. He says he’s good. He’s happy with how he’s done. I remind him he was happy 10 years ago and here we are. Nope, he says, he’s done. So am I.
Rice pudding guy returns to his pit without finishing his last lap. Wonder if he’s knows he just DNFed?
Similar to finishing Ironman, your mind and body have worked so hard to get you across the line that you either drop to the ground or act like a drunken sailor. For me keeping moving was key to avoid falling asleep. The sleep came quickly after we hit the road. My support crew did an awesome job keeping me going and while they did get a few 90 minute sleep breaks I know their day is often just as hard as racing if not harder, Thank-you very much Cindy, Kelvin and Chris. I could not have done this without you.
Statistics and Finale
I trained on infinit and had it as a big part of my fuelling plan, yeah didn’t happen. I took in one 1 bottle and just couldn’t drink it. Instead I took in ½ of the 30 GU’s they gave me, 1 bag of chomps, 8 bottles of Gatorade and as much chips, cheezies, cheese and crackers, cola, cookies and anything else I could get in during my pit-stops. In all I burned through 8000 calories over the 9 laps and took in between 150-250 per lap (half of plan), so ~5500 cal had to come from my plentiful fat stores. I now have 2 GU flavors that make me gag, not bad for that much intake. My total elevation gain over the 24 hours was 14,500 feet or 4 times the bike portion of IMC. Converted specifically for Kelvin, that is from sea level to only ½ way up Mt. Everest and back in the 23:06.
Mentally doing this race takes a bit more mental strength to keep going as it is more lap driven than time driven, you can do as little as 2 laps and still finish (if you know the DNF rules) so saying you completed the race solo does not express what you actually did. Where as Ironman is more distance and time driven, finish 226 km in 17 hours or DNF. I now see I like the Ironman measurement better as finishing is the same distance for everyone, slight variations in difficulty per location, but that’s OK. Physically Ironman is a harder race, but I think that might come from the changing activities (trying to run after biking), but endurance wise these are very similar. Trying to avoid sleeping is not a huge issue for Ironman but is a big one for the 24H where I had to keep my mind on how my coordination was doing to avoid falling off the bike.
I am really happy with how this race went and don’t need to do it again [Cindy: Thank God!]. I found I managed each of these categories better this time, even with being 10 years older & sick the week prior to the race. I might do the 24H again as it carries many of the similar feeling to an Ironman and it is a really fun race (provided I can find a pit member to replace Cindy, as something tells me she doesn’t want to do it again). I want to do a very special thanks to my great support crew & coaches for getting me ready, keeping me fed, my bikes in clean working order (yes cleaner than I usually have them) and for thinking for me when needed it. I couldn’t have done the race without your help so a big THANKS to all.
July 2001 – May 2011
In preparing for and completing IMC in 2010, I put into question an accomplishment I completed 10 years ago - the 24 Hours of Adrenalin mountain bike race solo. The concept of the race is to complete as many laps of the course as you can in 24 hours. The course is18.5km with 1620 ft elevation climb and 1620 ft downhill over a mix of easy, technical and difficult terrain. The racers can do this in teams or solo. The ranking is done by highest number of laps, if there’s a tie then time is used. One important rule is if you cross the finish line before 23 hours you must do another lap and complete it finished 25 hours.
I thought I was done with the race and didn’t need to come back to it, but doing IMC made me consider redoing this race because of some core items I learned from the process of truly preparing and executing a race. Prior to IMC I would classify myself as a solid weekend warrior athlete - get off the couch, do what I could, and recover through the week. When I last did the 24H race solo I thought Ironman was just for crazies, who would want to do that? It was just so big. So instead I’d go ride a mountain bike for 24 hours – yeah, they were crazy. Once Cindy started doing Ironman with a coach, I was older and wiser so I figured I too would try a coach instead of the couch to do IMC. I figured I’d survive better, which I did, but in the process I felt like I had unfinished business with the 24H race because I had not been properly prepared.
The key elements I learned from Ironman training (and my wonderful coaches/team mates) were: training, pacing, nutrition, medical, and recovery. Consider my training plan a decade ago: a handful of 2-3 hour MTB rides a few weekends before the race and one 120k cold turkey night road ride from 8 PM – 1:30 AM. Crazy? A bit as my bike lights didn’t last the entire ride, had no cell phone, and enough food for 2 hours not 5 ½ hours. Pacing? What was that? I went out hard and tried to keep moving by bouncing off trees and avoid doing endos. Fuel? Well let’s just say I learned I had no idea back then. I ate the wrong things at the wrong times. OMG! What was I thinking with the exercise on all you can eat PB&J sandwiches. Medically, I didn’t having a frigg’n clue what I was doing to myself by ‘training only on weekends’. I likely made the race harder than if I had just done it cold turkey. I now see myself as lucky to have survived last time, though I did end up with an injury that I didn’t take care of until I started IM training. Recovery at that time was a close descendant of a drinking game known as ‘hair of the dog’, it went like this: it hurts, oh better go do some more. Then post biking going for beer, nachos and wings. What do you think, is that good recovery food? Uh, NO. So 10 years later I thought I was a bit more enlightened. I signed up to re-do the 24 Hour solo race then realized mid-winter I was having difficulty finding the motivation to train so I did Ironman St. George to help me train for it, talk about ass-backwards.
June 2011 – July 22 2011
June was a fast transition from road to mountain bike training to de-rust my technical skills. Really I was working to challenge the TTL coaches with now only 2 months to race date. The hard part of MTB training is the different culture involved, post ride beer and nachos was hard to avoid, and getting dirty is part of the adventure here adding to bike maintenance time and budget. My training consisted of swimming twice a week, running once a week and biking 4 days a week. The biking was a mix between long road rides, moderately long MTB rides and shorter harder hills or technical riding. Five days before the race I got sick and did nothing, kind of a forced taper. The fever broke the day before the race and I could start eating again, yeah. OK, now let’s see how much better I could do than last time ;-).
The night before race start, I went to setup my transition area on ‘pit row’ in the wind and rain only to discover someone else setup in my spot, so I had to take his. My pit had a table for food, a few lawn chairs, and a tent so I could lie down or change as the race went on. It also contained a bike stand, lots of spare clothing, tools, a second bike and acted as shelter for my crew; I had three great pit members Cindy, Chris and Kelvin. One small screw up was the camping tent I brought took up all the space under the 10 x 10 tent borrowed from Carla (thank-you Carla), so I used duct tape and ingenuity to make it take ¼ its initial size and still work. Other solo tents had side panels on their tents in case of rain. We had rain but no side protection so Cindy had to run to town to buy a tarp (I considered using more duct tape instead of the tarp, but didn’t have enough). I also had our travel trailer so staying dry sleeping in a real bed with heat, a bathroom, and a kitchen the night before the race was a significant step up from 10 years prior when we slept in a tent (what was I thinking?). It also made for a comfortable place for my support crew to hang out and sleep in while I was riding.
CINDY: Our pit tent looked like something from a shantytown. We were definitely outclassed next to the sponsored riders with their fancy-shmancy tents, coffee urns, itemized clothing hangers and reclining lawn chairs. Not to be out done, I grabbed a few hangers from the trailer and hung some of Scott’s clothes from the tent. Surveying our buffet of salty junk food and sugar-laden treats, and comparing it to those around us I realized we had nothing of any nutritional value. I made a note to get some fruit and yogurt from the trailer. The tents across from us were mostly crewed by women, none of whom looked like they had any athletic background, a guy who looked like he would be more comfortable sitting in front of a computer, and set of elderly parents. We might not have the schwankiest tent but we had technical acumen, and an in-depth understanding of an endurance athletes needs that can only be achieved by personal experience. We were going to be the kick-butt pit crew.
June 23 2011 – 12:00 noon
Lap 1 (12:00-2:00 pm) Before I knew it, it was noon and race start. It began with a 1 km run to spread the ~300 hundred riders out before hitting the trails. I did a slow jog, and was likely the 4th last rider out on the trail. This was part of my plan as I was happier going slower the first lap to avoid getting injured by someone else (a very common issue for the first lap). The first lap had rain and was extremely muddy. I had to stop a few times to scoop mud out of my gears and wheel clearance areas. The mud was like peanut butter, about 3 jars worth, stuck to my tires, frame and body. I had to scoop out 4 hand-fulls 3 times. It was getting so packed in it was like riding with the brakes on and 3 gears too hard, not fun. I held an excruciatingly slow pace and found when I hit the first stretch of single track it paid off as the line of riders was just as slow and wheel to wheel as far as you could see, about 40 riders were actually behind me at this point, don’t know how I passed them. Then about 1/3 of the way around everyone disappeared and I was riding alone, a bit of a blessing, but also spooky. I figured it was a combination of my middle of the pack climbing ability (holding me with the starting group) and gravitational downhill advantage (lots of weight and comfort with speed) placing me in a gap between the riders. First lap (time 1:57, average speed 8.4km/h) including my pit-row break to allow my bike to have a quick lube and cleaning, not bad holding the pace I wanted.
CINDY: Riders were coming into the pit area with mud-caked bikes. Okay, people let’s see how you handle muddy bikes. Lady across from us pulled out a scrub brush and got to work, elderly couple jumped the fence with their rider’s bike and hit the bike wash. Riders of fancy dressed trio of ladies and computer guy switched bikes, so they used the bike wash. Watching this unfold while waiting for Scott I realize technical acumen we may have, but something to clean Scott’s bike with we do not. Kelvin borrowed the scrub brush from the lady across from us while I scavenged up water. Scott didn’t want to switch bikes so we cleaned what we could, which wasn’t much. So we now had the ugliest tent, the dirtiest bike, the least nutritional food, and our rider was almost last. It was becoming apparent we were going to have to step up our game. I recorded the calorie intake for the lap: Scott – 250, me – 670. Clearly sitting across a table laden with junk food for 2 hours isn’t a good idea. 22 hours to go.
Lap 2 (2:00 – 4:00 pm): I still had lots of space around me on the trail, still a bit spooky being all alone when riding with 300 other bikers, makes you question a wrong turn. The rain and mud were getting lighter. My pace was good and I found it easy to take in the fluids and fuel for aid station 1 and 2 without stopping, but station 3 was too short a leg that went straight into technical single track so I skipped taking anything here for a few laps. I replaced my wet weather gloves with regular bike gloves and dropped the vest I had in my pocket this time.
CINDY: How did those women get those bikes so clean so fast!? I managed to wrangle up a few face cloths and a sponge from the trailer. I filled every spare water bottle figuring Scott’s already drinking from a dirty water bottle it won’t kill him to keep it for another lap. I need to get his bike clean. Those women may be able to keep bikes clean but just wait until they have to handle a mechanical. Then we’ll see who cracks. Computer guy’s rider comes in grumbling that he feels like he’s on lap 7. Kelvin and I exchange a look and snicker. He’s not going to last long.
Lap 3 (4:00-6:00 pm): I think it was about this point that I had finished sweating out the remainder of being sick before the race. My fuel intake was good and pace was right in the range I wanted. I could go faster but knew I’d pay for it if I did. My legs felt really good, power when I needed it, no burning or pain. The other teams had spread out enough now that they passed me on most up hills. It was seldom a problem for them as there was either enough room to squeeze by or I would step off the trail for a moment to let them past. This was part of my plan as I did not want to get hurt by someone only doing 1-2 laps and taking stupid chances to save themselves 10 seconds on a 1 hour lap. I had an 86,400 second race and 10s was not worth risking finishing. I did find I only got passed on the downhill’s by the top riders maybe 5 times through the whole race, this is where my biking is strongest, going downhill fast and technical (ok gravitational advantage), always the reward for slogging up then flying down.
CINDY: Watched an unappetizing display as a pit crew starts pouring rice pudding into Ziploc bags, even more unappetizing was watching their rider guzzle it down through a hole in the corner of the bag. I BBQ some burgers for supper at the trailer. Kelvin starts cleaning Scott’s spare bike. I know Scott’s trying to pace himself but he’s now 2 laps behind the faster guys and still hasn’t passed the old guy across with us who has no muscle tone. I want to tell him to pick it up but bite my tongue instead.
Lap 4 (6:00-8:00 pm): I almost ran over a dead squirrel in the middle of the trail on the corner of a drop, spooked me as I was going 40 km/h and it was getting dusk. Fear not as soon as I hit the uphill my speed dropped like a rock (3-7 km/h, yeah I was slower than a snail, actually think one passed me on lap 5, but it was getting dark so hard to tell).
CINDY: Designer ladies’ rider hands them his bike all agitated and barking orders then hops on his spare bike and rides away. Ha, ha – a mechanical. I watch how they’re going to handle this. One of the ladies wheels the bike our way. “Do you know where the bike mechanic is?” I point toward the lodge. She thanks me then strolls away returning 20 minutes later with the bike fixed. Grrr.
Lap 5 (8:00 – 10:20 pm): Changed bikes and helmets so the crew could mount my lights I had asked the guys to have my backup lights mounted on my spare (non-suspension) bike and helmet. I kind-of forgot to tell them which my spare (secondary) lights were. They did their part and would have been a slick transition if I had not needed the extra rest and sat down in my pit to take off the compression socks, about where I was expecting, they helped but the squeeze they provide lost its comfort and started bugging me.
CINDY: Scott wants us to mount the lights on his bikes and helmet. He mumbles something about primary and secondary lights. We look at the lights. None of us can see a difference between them. We shrug and mount them where ever. I change into my PJs for the night thankful for the cover of darkness as I realize, much to my embarrassment, that with my Ironman jacket, cap, Ironmom shirt, and Ironman flannel pants I’m a walking billboard. I really need some non-athletic brand clothes.
Lap 6 (10:20 pm – 12:43 am): Glad to remount the nice bike with the better lights. The temperature was going down so I put on a vest and arm warmers for this lap, the warmers just didn’t stay up very well (considered using duct tape to fix them but didn’t want to stop). Everything but the butt felt great to this point, butt was only a bit sore, legs were happy to keep spinning and technically everything felt good. My butt was really happy to switch back to the full suspension bike. Most notable on this lap was me and another rider got passed too close by a ‘rookie’ rider that pushed us both off the trial (this is just as annoying as drafting in a race). Unfortunately this caused a hard stop because I didn’t have enough room to clear a tree, ouch and inner swear, same thing for the other rider on the other side of the trail. The rookie seemed to snake past without stopping or falling by narrow dumb luck. Then 20 seconds later I saw the same rookie righting his bike from an endo; obviously he is riding faster than his abilities (isn’t fate cool). I let my emotions ride for 5 minutes here, as he did not wait for a traffic gap to start but cut me off causing me to almost endo with the brake slam. It was on a fast fun part of the trail that is a gentle downhill so I could ride it fast, I’ve been over this part many times already and knew every turn and line so I chased him, hard. I gave him little to no space and pushed him down this part way faster than he wanted as he pissed me off. He kept shoulder checking and was clearly surprised that a solo rider was so close and fast, clearly he had no interest in getting out of the way of a faster rider, if he only knew that come the next hill I couldn’t hold him for the life of me, hey live the moment. Retrospect, this was the wrong way to handle it but I gave myself a 5-minute emotional indulgence to defend my technical riding ability.
CINDY: As soon as Scott is out of sight I leave the other support crews bundled in blankets trying to catch an hour of sleep in their lawn chairs for my castle of luxury with its heat and soft queen bed. I have at least 2 hours. Scott can take as long as he wants. Returning to the pit I grab some free popcorn.
Lap 7 (12:43 - 4:10 am): Start my lap but would have been done if this were IMC, so only 11 hours more to go. Feeling surprisingly good, must have been not having to do a run ;-). It was getting colder so before starting this one changed my shorts, shirt and vest, it did help to remove the hours of soaked in sweat. Crazy part of this lap was I almost hit a deer at 30 km/h on a fast downhill corner on this lap out in the meadow (risk of night riding, heart still works as the encounter definitely gave me an adrenaline spike). So far with the proper training, fuelling and pacing I was feeling better than a decade ago. I finished lap 7, tying the # of laps and 8 hours ahead of what I did 10 years ago. In retrospect this is where my HR also started to change, indicating I was running out of the non-fat fuels, I didn’t notice until data investigation.
Riding alone in the woods in the middle of the night is a strange sensation as all you can see is either the bit of trail you are lighting up or the odd rider off in the distance looking like a firefly. This part of the race is typically the make or break point as riding in the dark tends to take away some of the sensory feedback, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Hills become a bit easier as all you can see is the 10 feet directly in front of you, helping the mental focus to what is controllable and eliminating the rest of the stuff past it. Unfortunately not being able to clearly see what gear you are in is a bit tougher as I often wanted an easier gear and it just wasn’t there. Night riding is an experience that I suggest anyone try, its closest comparison to triathlon is to swimming in a dark murky lake with no visibility, just faster.
CINDY: Return to pit area to see paramedics at designer ladies tent. Their rider gets hauled away in a stretcher. I almost feel sorry for the riderless crew but not quite, they get to go home. Scott just moved up a spot. I notice computer guy’s rider is sitting in a lawn chair still wearing his sunglasses mummified in a blanket. He can sit there as long as he likes, Scott’s tied him laps. No muscle tone guy is hibernating in his tent and has been since midnight. He can stay there, Scott’s passed him up – finally. Scott decides to take a 30-minute break and lays down in the tent. We sit out in the cold. I light a small portable fire can for heat but it’s useless. Practically have to stick my hand in the flame to get any warmth. Chris gives me hot shots to hold. Exactly 30 minutes later I wake up Scott. He says he needs another 15 mins. Grrr. 45 minutes! If he would have just said that at the beginning we could have went back to the trailer. Watch the minutes pass and push him out 15 minutes later as fast as possible so I can return to the trailer.
Lap 8 (4:10 – 8:47 am): Feeling better than before so I gave myself permission to lay down for 20 minutes before beginning lap 8, which turned into 45 and didn’t help me any. Stopping was a bad thing as the aches and pains came out. I lost my power to climb hills, but still had good speed and leg turn over everywhere else. Coldest ride of the day. Struggled through the lap but my mind and body were no longer in it. I had to walk stuff that I should have been riding, I just felt like my motor was miss firing. I started getting clumsy, slipping on parts that I shouldn’t, bounced off a few trees with glancing blows (hurts much more now than 10 years back). Got to see the sun rise as I went through the far meadow, but the typical high it gives was not there. I needed more rest. Got back to the pit-row around 6:30 a.m. and went to the trailer for some real sleep. I gave instructions to be woken up at 8 a.m. to give me the potential for 2 more laps, closed my eyes for what seemed just a second then recall Cindy trying to pull me out of my coma. Actual finish time for lap 8 was at 8:47 a.m., giving me up to 4 hours 13 minutes left to ride. Still felt better than I did for IMSG but I’d be done by the time I started this lap, starting to figure out who the real crazy ones are.
Lesson: no matter how much rest I got at this point it would not be enough to benefit my speed or ability. It only gave the fatigue a way to sink in. Some riders stopped, as it got dark and slept until morning, they also rode each lap faster. I don’t know if the long break helped them or not but I didn’t see many do more than one lap after restarting. My gut tells me they were hurting for this last lap, I know I was.
CINDY: With Scott away all our thoughts immediately turned to crawling into a warm bed for sleep. We get to the trailer. It’s locked. I left my keys inside, so did Kelvin and Chris. Oh this can’t be happening at 4 friggin, freezing AM in the morning! God, I hate this race! I decide to search the cargo space for a spare key even though I know there won’t be one because Scott gave them all to us, but it was something for me to do to keep from FREAKING OUT! I needed sleep and warmth. I was not going back to that cold, dark, pit-tent. The cargo door wasn’t locked. When I open it I realize I can access the space from under the bed, our hydraulic bed. I crawl into the cargo space and I’m able to lift the bed. There’s just enough room for me to shimmy into the storage space under it. I’m in. Oh, I’m happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. I want to cry. I open the trailer door and we all fall into warm beds. Do I feel bad sleeping in my cozy bed while Scott’s riding sleep deprived in the cold dark? Absolutely not. Scott returns at 6:00 AM and announces he’s going to sleep in the trailer until 8 am. I don’t like this idea. He’s only done 8 laps. His goal is double digits. I don’t want to be back here in another few years because he still has “unfinished business” with this race. Doing a mental calculation he’d still have time for 3 laps so I let him stop.
Lap 9 (8:47 – 11:10 am): Dropped all extra clothing, err I mean, back to shorts and shirt. I was feeling better than lap 8 but the legs started to hurt on the uphills. I had nothing left in the reserve tanks. I could keep moving but could no longer speed up. I got back to the pit and it was a few minutes past 23 hours race time. I knew I could not do a sub 2-hour lap, no matter how hard Cindy tried kicking me in the butt to help me to try one more lap, the butt numbness and fatigue overrode her foot motivation methods. Avoiding a DNF was more important as I was happy with the improvement I had made over a decade ago. So I waited a few minutes at the pit and chatted with the crew before trundling in across the line. Total time 23:06, 18th place solo, had I gone straight in after getting back I would have had 17th place, oops, this is where 3 minutes makes a difference (if you actually care, which at that point I didn’t). If I were in contention for second or third it would have been different, but this is where as a racer my mind was not all there and reliance on the pit-crew to tell me what was going on and what to do kicked in.
CINDY: Whoa! Return to pit area and see 3 tents have been packed up. No muscle tone guy has emerged rested and ready to continue riding. Computer guy’s rider is still mummified in his chair – dude, go home already. Rice pudding guy heads out for lap 15. Freak.
Scott says he only has enough in him for one more lap, but he has enough time for 2. As the morning continues the tents around us start rapidly disappearing. I’m worried that when Scott returns the sight of so many riders quitting will make him want to stop. I’m adamant that we’re not packing anything until Scott’s done his lap. At the time creeps towards 11:00 am, the time you can officially end the race, I’m hoping Scott’s not stopped around the corner waiting so he doesn’t have to do another lap. He has to do another lap. I refuse to come back to this race. After 11 a.m. I reluctantly give the go ahead to Chris and Kelvin to start tearing down the pit. Scott doesn’t have enough time to finish the last lap. Crap!
Scott rides in. I make a last ditch attempt to get him back out for lap 10. He says he’s good. He’s happy with how he’s done. I remind him he was happy 10 years ago and here we are. Nope, he says, he’s done. So am I.
Rice pudding guy returns to his pit without finishing his last lap. Wonder if he’s knows he just DNFed?
Similar to finishing Ironman, your mind and body have worked so hard to get you across the line that you either drop to the ground or act like a drunken sailor. For me keeping moving was key to avoid falling asleep. The sleep came quickly after we hit the road. My support crew did an awesome job keeping me going and while they did get a few 90 minute sleep breaks I know their day is often just as hard as racing if not harder, Thank-you very much Cindy, Kelvin and Chris. I could not have done this without you.
Statistics and Finale
I trained on infinit and had it as a big part of my fuelling plan, yeah didn’t happen. I took in one 1 bottle and just couldn’t drink it. Instead I took in ½ of the 30 GU’s they gave me, 1 bag of chomps, 8 bottles of Gatorade and as much chips, cheezies, cheese and crackers, cola, cookies and anything else I could get in during my pit-stops. In all I burned through 8000 calories over the 9 laps and took in between 150-250 per lap (half of plan), so ~5500 cal had to come from my plentiful fat stores. I now have 2 GU flavors that make me gag, not bad for that much intake. My total elevation gain over the 24 hours was 14,500 feet or 4 times the bike portion of IMC. Converted specifically for Kelvin, that is from sea level to only ½ way up Mt. Everest and back in the 23:06.
Mentally doing this race takes a bit more mental strength to keep going as it is more lap driven than time driven, you can do as little as 2 laps and still finish (if you know the DNF rules) so saying you completed the race solo does not express what you actually did. Where as Ironman is more distance and time driven, finish 226 km in 17 hours or DNF. I now see I like the Ironman measurement better as finishing is the same distance for everyone, slight variations in difficulty per location, but that’s OK. Physically Ironman is a harder race, but I think that might come from the changing activities (trying to run after biking), but endurance wise these are very similar. Trying to avoid sleeping is not a huge issue for Ironman but is a big one for the 24H where I had to keep my mind on how my coordination was doing to avoid falling off the bike.
I am really happy with how this race went and don’t need to do it again [Cindy: Thank God!]. I found I managed each of these categories better this time, even with being 10 years older & sick the week prior to the race. I might do the 24H again as it carries many of the similar feeling to an Ironman and it is a really fun race (provided I can find a pit member to replace Cindy, as something tells me she doesn’t want to do it again). I want to do a very special thanks to my great support crew & coaches for getting me ready, keeping me fed, my bikes in clean working order (yes cleaner than I usually have them) and for thinking for me when needed it. I couldn’t have done the race without your help so a big THANKS to all.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Joz's Ironman Arizona Race Report - Nov. 2010
A very late Ironman Arizona Race Report by, JOZEEE
What you ask am I doing writing this now?? Well it has been 8 months and the other day when I ran for the first time since my surgery I could not believe I had done an Ironman only 8 months ago. Below is the last paragraph of my Ironman Canada 2009 race report. I printed it off to show a newbie triathlete and decided to read it and boy I realized the last paragraph was the start of my IMA report:
“
. A special thank you to Cindy for the beautiful flowers, Kelvin for your words of wisdom, Angie for getting me to the start and always being there, John for your undying patience, Hope for keeping me company on long rides, Caroline and Nola for always listening and my family who did get up at 4 in the morning and were there every moment of my day. I truly believe I am still on my Ironman journey and I will finish it next time. I will take all the positives from IMC this year and all that I learned to my next IM. What an amazing team we have, we are all so blessed.”
So After Canada I went to Arizona with Nola in November and watched and volunteered to see if this would be my next IM. I needed to finish my journey and if that meant it was to be in Arizona than so be it. That Monday morning I registered for Ironman Arizona. My confidence renewed, my determination to succeed and my desire to be an Ironman was set in motion.
I got right back to training as soon as I got home and put my nose to the grind with nutrition. Angie and I discussed the plan and my goals for 2010 with much enthusiasm. I believe we both felt this would be a good year for me. I raced every month starting in April, either a run and or a triathlon. I raced right up to Banff in September. The other 4 girls and I put a lot of miles on our bikes taking advantage of every sunny day. I did the IM camp in July and road the IM Canada course with Cindy and Carla in August. We were able to bike outside right up until the week before we left for Arizona. Loved it.
I headed to Arizona with Stephanie and now X-husband 5 days prior to race day. The condo was beautiful and It was great staying with Trish and Jim. They are wonderful room mates and Jim was good for Kelly. Steph and I enjoyed some light shopping but most of it was pre-rides, swims and light runs with the girls. I fell in love with the bike
Route and felt confident this ride would be good if the weather gods cooperated.
I woke up race day at 4am. Trish and I enjoyed breakfast and coffee together and than we dragged the family to the race start. I was nervous but not like I was at Canada. Angie called me and said it was going to be windy. She said to keep a steady effort and not to give into temptation to go harder and blow up on the run. Excellent advice I would later find out. I Found my bike, pumped the tires, layed everything out, got body marked. I even ate my banana 1 hour from race start, had a gel on the way to the swim. Linda Vandyke stuck with me and kept promising she would get me thru. Her and Cindy were the 2 people I saw thru every part of my day and always told me to keep going.
The swim start was serene. Still dark, cold water and hard to see anything out there. Not good for someone with bad depth percecption. Under the bridge Linda tried to drown me when she hugged me to keep warm. Hard when your treading water. All I kept thinking
Was how am I going to start my watch and tread? You couldn’t hear the countdown or anything and before I knew it the gun went. It was mass caos. People were banging me, hitting me, pulling at me. Bastards!! I just put my elbows out and thought every man for himself. The first half was ok but I was cold. Especially my legs. The booties were full of water and felt weighted down but they were not mine so couldn’t chuck them. Before the first turn I had my first cramps. Both legs, and bad. So bad I yelled Kyak. Hold on, massage, relax, go again. Second cramps just starting back. Same! Yell kyak, massage, relax, go. Third time about 750 to go. I looked at my watch and thought crap. I was at the same time I had actually finished Canada swim. Well get it done and try not to cramp. Not like I could, but maybe mentally I could….lol Finally crawled out at 1:57. Geesh that was disappointing, I let it go. That part was done. But now I was out I actually felt ok. I ran to the change tent.
I was so excited to get on my bike. I felt good, strong and relaxed. I got going on the bike and went thru all my plans. I had 5 bottles of infinit, 1 water, honey bee waffles, gels for 1 per hour. It was windy but Angie’s words “stay steady” played in my head. I kept my HR steady and tried to maintain that. At the end of the first loop it was raining and I was so excited because after a hot Canada this was a breath of fresh air. I could handle the wind better than the heat. The rain did something to my computer and I had to stop and try and fix. All I had was cadence but I could work with that. I think it happened for a reason too. If I had speed and time I would have probably tried to keep it up instead of my steady effort. So its true “all things happen for a reason”. The second loop was a bit harder and fighting the wind was frustrating at times but we got some breaks when we turned. Loop 2 done. Going into the third loop it rained two more times. I was looking forward to the tail wind coming back but it turned and I was fighting it again. I stopped at special needs and grabbed my gingerale that was still slushy. That came with me and was sooooo good. By then that’s all I wanted. I did get my gels in on the hour, and my infinit too. I kept my effort steady and even though I knew It was slower I would be ok for the run. It was actually the swim that lost me 25 minutes for the run. Angie and I were hoping for 7 ½ hours for the run.
When I started running it was 5:10 ish. I new I had to pull this run out of my ass and had to push thru some discomfort. It felt good to run. I don’t even remember running at Canada. This day was different. No gut issues, no nausea..yeahhh. I yelled “I’m running as I left transition” That in itself was amazing for me. The first lap I made up a bit of time and felt good. When I started the second lap my stomach was a bit gurgly. I had to stop and pee than stop and well all the food on the bike needed to evacuate my body. That took some time. It also made it difficult to eat anything, so I chewed on ice the rest of the second loop. Start of the third loop was a “HOLY SHIT, WAKE UP, GET MOVING” moment. I didn’t have a lot of time and I realized what was going to happen if I didn’t reach down inside myself. Nola offered to run with me but I was scared of being DQ’d and only realized a bit later everyone at that point had friends and family running with them. Sorry Nola! You know you were in my heart. A fellow I had met said to stay with him and we would make it. He would pass me on the flats and I would pass him on the hills. Yah I passed him on the hills…lol I could always see him. Allison and Kelly met me on the other side at about 5 km and they were surprised to see me. They said I had really picked up the pace. They ran with me back over the canal and Kelly stayed at transition and Stephanie my daughter who doesn’t run joined Allison and I. She said “Mom if I can do this so can you”. Funny thing was is I knew I could do it. There was moments of oh forget it just quit, just walk but an old familiar disappointment and embarrassment of IMC would pop up. I needed to do this more than anything. This meant so much to me. Stephanie got behind going up the hill in the park and Allison had to remind me that I wasn’t a mom at this point and had to let go of her. She would be fine. Steph managed to find short cuts and catch up. Allison just kept pushing me and helping me to stay in the moment and fight. To be light and quick on my toes. Angie’s text to Kelly saying tell her to tell me too dig deep and do whatever it took to finish this race went thru my head. All my friends and family back home praying for me to finish and sending positive strong thoughts. You were all on my shoulders. As I came off the last bridge I asked the guy how much further. He said 3 Km. I only had 20 minutes to finish which meant less than 7 min km. Ouch!! Ally yelled to tuck in behind her and focus on her IMC finisher jacket. Sue Daniels was there yelling go, go, go. Angie says to keep going, go hard. I had cramps in my feet, my legs had no feeling, my jaw hurt from clenching, my abs hurt, my hands were like sausages, I felt horrible. I tried to stop once just for a second and Sue yelled “DON’T YOU STOP, I PROMISED ANGIE I WOULD GET YOU IN”. So I kept running. I was crying it hurt so bad. Ally said after she would go faster and look and I was still there, she would go faster and I was still there. I did that last 3km in 17:32. That means I ran the last 3km of my Ironman at a 5:50 km. I don’t run that doing speed work. All the way along people were yelling, you have 18 minutes, 15, 13, 12, minutes. Finally one guy yelled you still have 10 minutes your going to make it. Ally had people join in behind so they would finish too. As I came under the last bridge there was everyone who had been there thru this journey with me. Nola who had been there every step of the way, Scott and Cindy who had also raced and came to be there for me and of course Chris hobbling along behind me trying to keep up, giving Angie a play by play of my finish, (Angie you have no idea how much you were there, I felt you every step of the way and you were the first person I talked too and cried with.), and my amazing daughter who ran the last 8km with me and kept me going, Linda Vandyke waiting to hug me and take me for a massage. The Finish. Wow! People yelling, banging, cow bells, the announcer “JOANNE ZAWADA YOU ARE AN IRONMAN”. Wow!
It is all worth it. It is amazing. The most fulfilling, gratifying thing I have ever done in my life. If I forgot anyone I am so sorry, know you were all there, John Bosma my confidant, friend and supporter, Tara supporter and payed it back lending me that amazing helmet and knowing my song at the end was “I’ve had the time of my life” Sarah and Kelvin for always listening and saying the right things, Linda for all your words of encouragement, Carla, Cindy, Trish and Paddy for miles and miles and miles on the bike and so much fun training. Will I do another one? Probably. But not right now….lol
What you ask am I doing writing this now?? Well it has been 8 months and the other day when I ran for the first time since my surgery I could not believe I had done an Ironman only 8 months ago. Below is the last paragraph of my Ironman Canada 2009 race report. I printed it off to show a newbie triathlete and decided to read it and boy I realized the last paragraph was the start of my IMA report:
“
. A special thank you to Cindy for the beautiful flowers, Kelvin for your words of wisdom, Angie for getting me to the start and always being there, John for your undying patience, Hope for keeping me company on long rides, Caroline and Nola for always listening and my family who did get up at 4 in the morning and were there every moment of my day. I truly believe I am still on my Ironman journey and I will finish it next time. I will take all the positives from IMC this year and all that I learned to my next IM. What an amazing team we have, we are all so blessed.”
So After Canada I went to Arizona with Nola in November and watched and volunteered to see if this would be my next IM. I needed to finish my journey and if that meant it was to be in Arizona than so be it. That Monday morning I registered for Ironman Arizona. My confidence renewed, my determination to succeed and my desire to be an Ironman was set in motion.
I got right back to training as soon as I got home and put my nose to the grind with nutrition. Angie and I discussed the plan and my goals for 2010 with much enthusiasm. I believe we both felt this would be a good year for me. I raced every month starting in April, either a run and or a triathlon. I raced right up to Banff in September. The other 4 girls and I put a lot of miles on our bikes taking advantage of every sunny day. I did the IM camp in July and road the IM Canada course with Cindy and Carla in August. We were able to bike outside right up until the week before we left for Arizona. Loved it.
I headed to Arizona with Stephanie and now X-husband 5 days prior to race day. The condo was beautiful and It was great staying with Trish and Jim. They are wonderful room mates and Jim was good for Kelly. Steph and I enjoyed some light shopping but most of it was pre-rides, swims and light runs with the girls. I fell in love with the bike
Route and felt confident this ride would be good if the weather gods cooperated.
I woke up race day at 4am. Trish and I enjoyed breakfast and coffee together and than we dragged the family to the race start. I was nervous but not like I was at Canada. Angie called me and said it was going to be windy. She said to keep a steady effort and not to give into temptation to go harder and blow up on the run. Excellent advice I would later find out. I Found my bike, pumped the tires, layed everything out, got body marked. I even ate my banana 1 hour from race start, had a gel on the way to the swim. Linda Vandyke stuck with me and kept promising she would get me thru. Her and Cindy were the 2 people I saw thru every part of my day and always told me to keep going.
The swim start was serene. Still dark, cold water and hard to see anything out there. Not good for someone with bad depth percecption. Under the bridge Linda tried to drown me when she hugged me to keep warm. Hard when your treading water. All I kept thinking
Was how am I going to start my watch and tread? You couldn’t hear the countdown or anything and before I knew it the gun went. It was mass caos. People were banging me, hitting me, pulling at me. Bastards!! I just put my elbows out and thought every man for himself. The first half was ok but I was cold. Especially my legs. The booties were full of water and felt weighted down but they were not mine so couldn’t chuck them. Before the first turn I had my first cramps. Both legs, and bad. So bad I yelled Kyak. Hold on, massage, relax, go again. Second cramps just starting back. Same! Yell kyak, massage, relax, go. Third time about 750 to go. I looked at my watch and thought crap. I was at the same time I had actually finished Canada swim. Well get it done and try not to cramp. Not like I could, but maybe mentally I could….lol Finally crawled out at 1:57. Geesh that was disappointing, I let it go. That part was done. But now I was out I actually felt ok. I ran to the change tent.
I was so excited to get on my bike. I felt good, strong and relaxed. I got going on the bike and went thru all my plans. I had 5 bottles of infinit, 1 water, honey bee waffles, gels for 1 per hour. It was windy but Angie’s words “stay steady” played in my head. I kept my HR steady and tried to maintain that. At the end of the first loop it was raining and I was so excited because after a hot Canada this was a breath of fresh air. I could handle the wind better than the heat. The rain did something to my computer and I had to stop and try and fix. All I had was cadence but I could work with that. I think it happened for a reason too. If I had speed and time I would have probably tried to keep it up instead of my steady effort. So its true “all things happen for a reason”. The second loop was a bit harder and fighting the wind was frustrating at times but we got some breaks when we turned. Loop 2 done. Going into the third loop it rained two more times. I was looking forward to the tail wind coming back but it turned and I was fighting it again. I stopped at special needs and grabbed my gingerale that was still slushy. That came with me and was sooooo good. By then that’s all I wanted. I did get my gels in on the hour, and my infinit too. I kept my effort steady and even though I knew It was slower I would be ok for the run. It was actually the swim that lost me 25 minutes for the run. Angie and I were hoping for 7 ½ hours for the run.
When I started running it was 5:10 ish. I new I had to pull this run out of my ass and had to push thru some discomfort. It felt good to run. I don’t even remember running at Canada. This day was different. No gut issues, no nausea..yeahhh. I yelled “I’m running as I left transition” That in itself was amazing for me. The first lap I made up a bit of time and felt good. When I started the second lap my stomach was a bit gurgly. I had to stop and pee than stop and well all the food on the bike needed to evacuate my body. That took some time. It also made it difficult to eat anything, so I chewed on ice the rest of the second loop. Start of the third loop was a “HOLY SHIT, WAKE UP, GET MOVING” moment. I didn’t have a lot of time and I realized what was going to happen if I didn’t reach down inside myself. Nola offered to run with me but I was scared of being DQ’d and only realized a bit later everyone at that point had friends and family running with them. Sorry Nola! You know you were in my heart. A fellow I had met said to stay with him and we would make it. He would pass me on the flats and I would pass him on the hills. Yah I passed him on the hills…lol I could always see him. Allison and Kelly met me on the other side at about 5 km and they were surprised to see me. They said I had really picked up the pace. They ran with me back over the canal and Kelly stayed at transition and Stephanie my daughter who doesn’t run joined Allison and I. She said “Mom if I can do this so can you”. Funny thing was is I knew I could do it. There was moments of oh forget it just quit, just walk but an old familiar disappointment and embarrassment of IMC would pop up. I needed to do this more than anything. This meant so much to me. Stephanie got behind going up the hill in the park and Allison had to remind me that I wasn’t a mom at this point and had to let go of her. She would be fine. Steph managed to find short cuts and catch up. Allison just kept pushing me and helping me to stay in the moment and fight. To be light and quick on my toes. Angie’s text to Kelly saying tell her to tell me too dig deep and do whatever it took to finish this race went thru my head. All my friends and family back home praying for me to finish and sending positive strong thoughts. You were all on my shoulders. As I came off the last bridge I asked the guy how much further. He said 3 Km. I only had 20 minutes to finish which meant less than 7 min km. Ouch!! Ally yelled to tuck in behind her and focus on her IMC finisher jacket. Sue Daniels was there yelling go, go, go. Angie says to keep going, go hard. I had cramps in my feet, my legs had no feeling, my jaw hurt from clenching, my abs hurt, my hands were like sausages, I felt horrible. I tried to stop once just for a second and Sue yelled “DON’T YOU STOP, I PROMISED ANGIE I WOULD GET YOU IN”. So I kept running. I was crying it hurt so bad. Ally said after she would go faster and look and I was still there, she would go faster and I was still there. I did that last 3km in 17:32. That means I ran the last 3km of my Ironman at a 5:50 km. I don’t run that doing speed work. All the way along people were yelling, you have 18 minutes, 15, 13, 12, minutes. Finally one guy yelled you still have 10 minutes your going to make it. Ally had people join in behind so they would finish too. As I came under the last bridge there was everyone who had been there thru this journey with me. Nola who had been there every step of the way, Scott and Cindy who had also raced and came to be there for me and of course Chris hobbling along behind me trying to keep up, giving Angie a play by play of my finish, (Angie you have no idea how much you were there, I felt you every step of the way and you were the first person I talked too and cried with.), and my amazing daughter who ran the last 8km with me and kept me going, Linda Vandyke waiting to hug me and take me for a massage. The Finish. Wow! People yelling, banging, cow bells, the announcer “JOANNE ZAWADA YOU ARE AN IRONMAN”. Wow!
It is all worth it. It is amazing. The most fulfilling, gratifying thing I have ever done in my life. If I forgot anyone I am so sorry, know you were all there, John Bosma my confidant, friend and supporter, Tara supporter and payed it back lending me that amazing helmet and knowing my song at the end was “I’ve had the time of my life” Sarah and Kelvin for always listening and saying the right things, Linda for all your words of encouragement, Carla, Cindy, Trish and Paddy for miles and miles and miles on the bike and so much fun training. Will I do another one? Probably. But not right now….lol
Friday, August 12, 2011
Katja's IM CDA Race Report - 2011
My race report for Coeur D’Alene is long overdue. I’ve been so busy (mostly with work) since I got back, that I don’t know how I ever found the time to train before the race. Somehow, I just made the time for it. It had, after all, been an 8-year plan to do this race for my 50th birthday. Over those years, I had done 3 marathons, 3 half IM races, and a number of Olympic triathlons. I had always envisioned doing IM Canada, but the timing for that didn’t work this year, so Coeur D’Alene it was. The timing for CDA turned out not to be great either – I was dismayed to find out that neither of my sons would be finished with their final exams (junior high and high school) and so neither they, nor my husband, would be able to come to the race with me.
Luckily, my friend Nola stepped up in a huge way. Nola totally made my weekend!! I’m still blown away by how dedicated she was to making my weekend a success! With 3 IMs under her belt and lots of experience as a support person, she was invaluable. She was with me every step of the way in planning and preparation and helped with so many of the small but important details – like buying neoprene warmers for my bike shoes for me the day before the race, driving the bike course with me, and making sure I did NOT use those brand new laces on my runners. (I now know they would have given me grief on the run.) She also volunteered in the women’s change tent, which meant she could accompany me into transition on race morning and get me off to a good start and then help me at T2 as well. I can’t thank Nola enough!!
The other person that I owe a huge thank-you to is Angie. Angie’s coaching was everything I could have hoped for and more!! I felt absolutely confident in her training plan, knowing how many athletes she has prepared for IM. I knew that because of Angie, I had a rock-solid base of training and was well prepared. Angie had gone through all the details of the race with me and I had complete faith in the race plan.
Everything seemed great until… I got sick before the race! It started as a cold and sore throat and then moved down into my chest, leaving me with coughing up thick green sputum. (I know you just wanted to know that…) I panicked, of course! I did nothing at all for the entire week before the race – no runs, swims, bikes – didn’t even go near the lake or touch the water. (That might have been a good thing.) Nola and I didn’t go to the pre-race dinner, as I still didn’t feel well and had little energy for lining up and possibly being cold in the tent. However, I did go to the pre-race meeting, which served to take away my last bit of confidence. The worst news was that the water temperature was 14 degrees C (56 F), the coldest they’d ever had. It was so cold that booties were legal.
Sure enough, the swim was truly the swim from hell!! Even though I wore a full wetsuit and a cap and booties, it was just too cold for me. The swim start was brutal. I was suited up and moving down to the beach at 15-20 min before gun time, but it was a turtle-like shuffle towards the beach. All the athletes had to go over one mat to get to the beach and there were so many athletes and spectators that it was almost impossible to move. I hadn’t even made it onto the beach when the gun went off! So much for my plan to start out way over to the right… When I hit the water I couldn’t breathe. I’ve had that experience before but it has always gone away within a minute or two. Not this time! Again and again I tried to put my face in the water but just couldn’t cope. So I turned around to swim on my back. (I’ve never done that in a race before.) Well, before I knew it I was completely lost – out amongst the boats somewhere and totally disoriented. While I eventually did manage to put my face in the water and breathe—and re-join the swim course—I never did find a rhythm. I was cold the entire time. In the process I somehow swallowed lots of water and air. At the turn-around on the beach I wondered how I’d ever make another lap because I was already so cold!
When I got out of the swim volunteers kept trying to get me to go into the warm-up tent. In retrospect, it would probably have been a good idea, as I was shivering violently. But I refused and carried on. The first few km on the bike felt surreal. I was so cold, I felt disconnected from my legs. I kept looking down to make sure the bike was ok, as nothing felt “normal”. Luckily, it was a warm day and the sun slowly did its job of warming me up. The race plan was to go “easy cheesy” for the first 60k of the bike. After that I felt much better, but decided I would just keep going at that pace. I rode more slowly than during a normal training ride—I did pretty much the whole ride in HR upper zone 1. I was still coughing (more than ever), and because of the bronchitis, I didn’t know how much energy I had and I wanted to play it absolutely safe. I figured a slow finish time would be fine with me but a DNF wouldn’t…So I carried on, without pushing, gradually feeling better and better on the bike and beginning to appreciate the spectacular scenery, the spectators, and the fact that here I was actually doing an IM!! It was a huge lift to my spirits to see my brother, sister-in-law and niece, who had driven up from Saskatoon, cheering me on with home-made signs that made me smile each time I went by!!
I started the run with some stomach issues and had to use the porta-potties several times in the first ½.
However, gut issues during marathons are familiar to me, and although I was uncomfortable, I’ve had worse in other marathons and ½ IMs. I held a slow pace that felt quite comfortable, walking only in the aid stations as planned. (I was also in upper zone 1 HR for most of the run—being super conservative to ensure I would finish.) To my surprise, I just kept feeling better!! Angie had told me that the race didn’t start until the last 10k, so that’s when I finally dialed it up. It turns out I had a fair bit left at the end, as I was able to increase my pace considerably on that last 10k. It felt exhilarating!! The sun setting over the lake was stunningly beautiful, the crowd support was amazing, and I finally felt confident that I’d make it! I ended up passing so many people in those last 10k as I let my HR climb into the 130’s and lower 140’s and I felt better than I’d felt all day! Seeing Nola and my family at the finish line was a highlight. I’ll never forget the joy I saw reflected in Nola’s eyes as she greeted me.
It has now been over 6 weeks since that day. I’m so happy I embarked on this ironman journey eight years ago and I’m grateful that I was able see it through. I’m thankful to Nola and Angie, and of course to my family who’ve been super supportive and have put up with the seemingly endless training. I miss those long training rides now… Because of many other commitments, it may well be 6 years before I do another IM. But I will be back – Penticton in 2017 anyone??
Luckily, my friend Nola stepped up in a huge way. Nola totally made my weekend!! I’m still blown away by how dedicated she was to making my weekend a success! With 3 IMs under her belt and lots of experience as a support person, she was invaluable. She was with me every step of the way in planning and preparation and helped with so many of the small but important details – like buying neoprene warmers for my bike shoes for me the day before the race, driving the bike course with me, and making sure I did NOT use those brand new laces on my runners. (I now know they would have given me grief on the run.) She also volunteered in the women’s change tent, which meant she could accompany me into transition on race morning and get me off to a good start and then help me at T2 as well. I can’t thank Nola enough!!
The other person that I owe a huge thank-you to is Angie. Angie’s coaching was everything I could have hoped for and more!! I felt absolutely confident in her training plan, knowing how many athletes she has prepared for IM. I knew that because of Angie, I had a rock-solid base of training and was well prepared. Angie had gone through all the details of the race with me and I had complete faith in the race plan.
Everything seemed great until… I got sick before the race! It started as a cold and sore throat and then moved down into my chest, leaving me with coughing up thick green sputum. (I know you just wanted to know that…) I panicked, of course! I did nothing at all for the entire week before the race – no runs, swims, bikes – didn’t even go near the lake or touch the water. (That might have been a good thing.) Nola and I didn’t go to the pre-race dinner, as I still didn’t feel well and had little energy for lining up and possibly being cold in the tent. However, I did go to the pre-race meeting, which served to take away my last bit of confidence. The worst news was that the water temperature was 14 degrees C (56 F), the coldest they’d ever had. It was so cold that booties were legal.
Sure enough, the swim was truly the swim from hell!! Even though I wore a full wetsuit and a cap and booties, it was just too cold for me. The swim start was brutal. I was suited up and moving down to the beach at 15-20 min before gun time, but it was a turtle-like shuffle towards the beach. All the athletes had to go over one mat to get to the beach and there were so many athletes and spectators that it was almost impossible to move. I hadn’t even made it onto the beach when the gun went off! So much for my plan to start out way over to the right… When I hit the water I couldn’t breathe. I’ve had that experience before but it has always gone away within a minute or two. Not this time! Again and again I tried to put my face in the water but just couldn’t cope. So I turned around to swim on my back. (I’ve never done that in a race before.) Well, before I knew it I was completely lost – out amongst the boats somewhere and totally disoriented. While I eventually did manage to put my face in the water and breathe—and re-join the swim course—I never did find a rhythm. I was cold the entire time. In the process I somehow swallowed lots of water and air. At the turn-around on the beach I wondered how I’d ever make another lap because I was already so cold!
When I got out of the swim volunteers kept trying to get me to go into the warm-up tent. In retrospect, it would probably have been a good idea, as I was shivering violently. But I refused and carried on. The first few km on the bike felt surreal. I was so cold, I felt disconnected from my legs. I kept looking down to make sure the bike was ok, as nothing felt “normal”. Luckily, it was a warm day and the sun slowly did its job of warming me up. The race plan was to go “easy cheesy” for the first 60k of the bike. After that I felt much better, but decided I would just keep going at that pace. I rode more slowly than during a normal training ride—I did pretty much the whole ride in HR upper zone 1. I was still coughing (more than ever), and because of the bronchitis, I didn’t know how much energy I had and I wanted to play it absolutely safe. I figured a slow finish time would be fine with me but a DNF wouldn’t…So I carried on, without pushing, gradually feeling better and better on the bike and beginning to appreciate the spectacular scenery, the spectators, and the fact that here I was actually doing an IM!! It was a huge lift to my spirits to see my brother, sister-in-law and niece, who had driven up from Saskatoon, cheering me on with home-made signs that made me smile each time I went by!!
I started the run with some stomach issues and had to use the porta-potties several times in the first ½.
However, gut issues during marathons are familiar to me, and although I was uncomfortable, I’ve had worse in other marathons and ½ IMs. I held a slow pace that felt quite comfortable, walking only in the aid stations as planned. (I was also in upper zone 1 HR for most of the run—being super conservative to ensure I would finish.) To my surprise, I just kept feeling better!! Angie had told me that the race didn’t start until the last 10k, so that’s when I finally dialed it up. It turns out I had a fair bit left at the end, as I was able to increase my pace considerably on that last 10k. It felt exhilarating!! The sun setting over the lake was stunningly beautiful, the crowd support was amazing, and I finally felt confident that I’d make it! I ended up passing so many people in those last 10k as I let my HR climb into the 130’s and lower 140’s and I felt better than I’d felt all day! Seeing Nola and my family at the finish line was a highlight. I’ll never forget the joy I saw reflected in Nola’s eyes as she greeted me.
It has now been over 6 weeks since that day. I’m so happy I embarked on this ironman journey eight years ago and I’m grateful that I was able see it through. I’m thankful to Nola and Angie, and of course to my family who’ve been super supportive and have put up with the seemingly endless training. I miss those long training rides now… Because of many other commitments, it may well be 6 years before I do another IM. But I will be back – Penticton in 2017 anyone??
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Cindy's Invermere Race Report - July 2011
When I think of myself as a racer I don’t think fast. I think good, but not fast. When I got out of the swim Scott told me I was 6th out of the water. I could have sworn there was an entire pack of people ahead of me. When I hit the bike turnaround at the end of the downhill I was in 2nd place, I expected at least 4 others to be ahead of me. Starting back up the climb I could see all the riders behind me. The closest female looked so strong and fast, and there I was slogging up the hill in my granny gear. I knew she was trying to chase me down and accepted the fact she was going to pass me. I ACCEPTED the fact. At that moment I realized not only had I just lost the race, but I was handing it over. Why was I so ready to believe her abilities over mine – I knew nothing about her? What if she couldn’t climb? What if she was on the verge of blowing up? What if she couldn’t run?
While I wasn’t deluded enough to believe I could win, I was disappointed enough in myself that I figured I’d at least make this girl work to pass me. I pushed up the hill with what I had, not caring if I had anything for the run. I focused on the maximum effort I could produce in that moment. My goal was to get as far as I could before the next racer passed me. Imagine my surprise when I got to transition still in 2nd place.
Now did I think I had a shot at winning? Absolutely not. Running is not my strong point, I would eventually get passed – probably in the first 2kms, but I was sticking to my guns to make her work for it. I didn’t look at heart rate, pace, or time. I was going strictly on putting one foot in front of the other as fast as I could. At the run turnaround I was able to see how far back the rest of the racers were. They looked so close. There was the girl still looking strong, fast and even more determined. I was the one in the lead but I felt weak, slow and vulnerable.
I picked up the pace. When I saw the last steep climb I was done. There was no way I was going to maintain my lead up that. I mentally gave myself a shake, - don’t hand over the race. Make that girl work. Stop giving up. Maybe that girl has a stitch and had to walk. Maybe she feels like she has to puke like you do. I focused solely on going as fast as I could up the hill. I did get passed by a young guy, which meant others weren’t far behind but they weren’t there yet so I fought on. Not once did I look behind me because I knew if I did and saw how close the next racer was I would be finished.
When I reached the top of the hill I had 1.5km to go, all downhill. Never did I imagine I could maintain a lead in a race this long. Was I thinking I could win? Nope. I was hurting thinking that 2nd place was good and started slowing down. I gave myself a HARD mental slap across the head. What is WRONG with you? Why do you want to settle for second when first is right in front of you? I increased pace.
Only when I reached the 1 km mark did I believe I could take the win and decide to fight for it. I was so close to the finish. I was not going to be the Tour de France rider who worked so hard the entire race only to be blown by in the final meters. I dug into a well of energy and effort I didn’t know existed and sprinted the final km, hoping I wasn’t going to have to slow down to throw up. For the first time ever in a race seeing the finish line did not defeat me.
I finished 50 secs ahead of the next female. I was that far ahead, and yet up until the last 5 minutes of the race I was ready to concede victory to her because I didn’t believe I was faster. Why? Because I was in pain. I didn’t feel fast. I didn’t feel strong. I didn’t look as fit as her. She had fire in her eyes while I felt like a scared rabbit. I never realized how many negative pre-conceived notions I have in my head. It never occurred to me that maybe all top finishers are in pain. Maybe none of them feel fast. Maybe they all feel weak. Maybe none of them think they look fit. Maybe they all feel like scared rabbits running for the chute waiting to be passed. I’ve never seen myself race. Maybe I do look fast (I just assume everyone who tells me that is being polite and encouraging). Maybe I do look strong. Maybe I do look fit and intimidating.
This race has given me tremendous insight into realizing how many times I’ve mentally buckled in races. In this race, because I was leading, there was a tangible outcome if I gave up – I’d lose my podium finish and I’d know it. Usually I’m never in contention for a win so I’m only racing for my own goals, if I give up on those there’s no consequence and nobody knows but me.
Looking back on some of my races I realize that I’ve let a lot of goals go because for whatever reason I mentally checked out without even knowing it. Stony is a perfect example. I was ready to give the race up 2 weeks before it started because I had ACCEPTED I wasn’t going to PR. Halfway through the race I realized I could actually PR. Get a flat and lose 10 mins, what happens? I mentally check out because my timing to PR is blown. The entire run I’m miserable and just looking for an excuse to quit or walk. In the end I’m only 3 minutes behind my PR with the flat. Without the flat I would have had a huge PR, what a tragedy if I would have decided not to race. Even with the flat, what could I have done if I wouldn’t have mentally quit on the run? I was so sure I couldn’t do it. I thought I was too slow but I wasn’t. I was holding the exact pace I needed, but in my mind I needed to overcome a 10 min deficit, which wasn’t achievable, when in reality I only needed 3 minutes – something which was. What if.
In the future, I’m going to try my hardest to throw out my ill conceived race notions, they do nothing but damage the psyche. I’m going to believe in myself and my abilities, since I’m so quick to believe in other peoples abilities I might as well include my own. I’m going to fight for my race goals. Just because achieving them doesn’t result in a nifty transition bag doesn’t mean they’re not worth fighting for. In fact, they are what I should fight for. A bag gets kicked around and stuffed in a closet; pride in performing your best lasts forever.
While I wasn’t deluded enough to believe I could win, I was disappointed enough in myself that I figured I’d at least make this girl work to pass me. I pushed up the hill with what I had, not caring if I had anything for the run. I focused on the maximum effort I could produce in that moment. My goal was to get as far as I could before the next racer passed me. Imagine my surprise when I got to transition still in 2nd place.
Now did I think I had a shot at winning? Absolutely not. Running is not my strong point, I would eventually get passed – probably in the first 2kms, but I was sticking to my guns to make her work for it. I didn’t look at heart rate, pace, or time. I was going strictly on putting one foot in front of the other as fast as I could. At the run turnaround I was able to see how far back the rest of the racers were. They looked so close. There was the girl still looking strong, fast and even more determined. I was the one in the lead but I felt weak, slow and vulnerable.
I picked up the pace. When I saw the last steep climb I was done. There was no way I was going to maintain my lead up that. I mentally gave myself a shake, - don’t hand over the race. Make that girl work. Stop giving up. Maybe that girl has a stitch and had to walk. Maybe she feels like she has to puke like you do. I focused solely on going as fast as I could up the hill. I did get passed by a young guy, which meant others weren’t far behind but they weren’t there yet so I fought on. Not once did I look behind me because I knew if I did and saw how close the next racer was I would be finished.
When I reached the top of the hill I had 1.5km to go, all downhill. Never did I imagine I could maintain a lead in a race this long. Was I thinking I could win? Nope. I was hurting thinking that 2nd place was good and started slowing down. I gave myself a HARD mental slap across the head. What is WRONG with you? Why do you want to settle for second when first is right in front of you? I increased pace.
Only when I reached the 1 km mark did I believe I could take the win and decide to fight for it. I was so close to the finish. I was not going to be the Tour de France rider who worked so hard the entire race only to be blown by in the final meters. I dug into a well of energy and effort I didn’t know existed and sprinted the final km, hoping I wasn’t going to have to slow down to throw up. For the first time ever in a race seeing the finish line did not defeat me.
I finished 50 secs ahead of the next female. I was that far ahead, and yet up until the last 5 minutes of the race I was ready to concede victory to her because I didn’t believe I was faster. Why? Because I was in pain. I didn’t feel fast. I didn’t feel strong. I didn’t look as fit as her. She had fire in her eyes while I felt like a scared rabbit. I never realized how many negative pre-conceived notions I have in my head. It never occurred to me that maybe all top finishers are in pain. Maybe none of them feel fast. Maybe they all feel weak. Maybe none of them think they look fit. Maybe they all feel like scared rabbits running for the chute waiting to be passed. I’ve never seen myself race. Maybe I do look fast (I just assume everyone who tells me that is being polite and encouraging). Maybe I do look strong. Maybe I do look fit and intimidating.
This race has given me tremendous insight into realizing how many times I’ve mentally buckled in races. In this race, because I was leading, there was a tangible outcome if I gave up – I’d lose my podium finish and I’d know it. Usually I’m never in contention for a win so I’m only racing for my own goals, if I give up on those there’s no consequence and nobody knows but me.
Looking back on some of my races I realize that I’ve let a lot of goals go because for whatever reason I mentally checked out without even knowing it. Stony is a perfect example. I was ready to give the race up 2 weeks before it started because I had ACCEPTED I wasn’t going to PR. Halfway through the race I realized I could actually PR. Get a flat and lose 10 mins, what happens? I mentally check out because my timing to PR is blown. The entire run I’m miserable and just looking for an excuse to quit or walk. In the end I’m only 3 minutes behind my PR with the flat. Without the flat I would have had a huge PR, what a tragedy if I would have decided not to race. Even with the flat, what could I have done if I wouldn’t have mentally quit on the run? I was so sure I couldn’t do it. I thought I was too slow but I wasn’t. I was holding the exact pace I needed, but in my mind I needed to overcome a 10 min deficit, which wasn’t achievable, when in reality I only needed 3 minutes – something which was. What if.
In the future, I’m going to try my hardest to throw out my ill conceived race notions, they do nothing but damage the psyche. I’m going to believe in myself and my abilities, since I’m so quick to believe in other peoples abilities I might as well include my own. I’m going to fight for my race goals. Just because achieving them doesn’t result in a nifty transition bag doesn’t mean they’re not worth fighting for. In fact, they are what I should fight for. A bag gets kicked around and stuffed in a closet; pride in performing your best lasts forever.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Leslie-Anne's Great White North Race Report - July 2011
Dear Diary,
I just have to tell you about GWN, it was such a learning curve!
The fun began on Friday July 1st when all my TTL friends and supporters met at the pre race dinner. Diary, Cathy was amazing as my support for this race (aka Sherpa Cathy!)
I got the nicest compliment when Toni asked, “Where the other half of Leslie-Anne was?” Diary I was sooooo pleased to hear such a compliment! It was a real ego booster.
Saturday we (TTL and supporters) gathered at Allen Beach to do our pre race stuff. Coach Angie asked that all the strong swimmers start out fast for 200 m and then slow down to race pace.
Well, see if I ever do that again! OMG!! After I did the 200m I had such difficulty regaining my breath there was NO WAY I would be doing that in a race.
That was the 1st lesson learned.
Saturday afternoon hanging around the hotel with every intention of reading when the lovely Richelle stopped by. During the conversation I stated my worst fear was getting a flat, as I didn’t really know how to change one. Now Diary as a triathlete I should know how to change a flat and even Richelle was surprised (and shocked) that I didn’t.
Richelle then spent time with me one on one and coached me through changing a flat. My fear was dispelled and I know now that should I flat during the race at least I would be able to change my tire. Not fast mind you but I could do it.
That was the 2nd lesson learned.
Quiet night, prepped my fuel, clothing, and watched Thelma and Louise, mmmm Diary Brad Pitt was mighty fine in that movie!!! (teehee!)
Race Day dawned a beautiful clear blue sky and I thought wow, I’d be dealing with sun for the 1st time ever!
I enjoyed my breakky and soon we were off to the race.
Diary, you know how I HATE the black condom (aka wetsuit) but Diary I did better in getting most of it on and with Sarah’s hubby to put his hands down my pants pulling form the inside it was on in no time! Diary, you know this has to be done and thank goodness Sarah is cool about Kevin helping out!
Next thing I’m in the water the for warm up, get a great hug from Coach Angie enroute to my place along the fence.
Diary what happened next surprised even me! I got going in the swim and before I knew it I was starting to have issues! ME~ issues in the swim!!! Just when I got my fecal matter together I saw a male swimmer in true distress. He was having trouble and it was me that got the attention of the vollies in the boats. I made sure he cleared the swimmers before I continued.
Wow, that was a scary thing to see and hear Diary, someone that scared. I did manage to get going and find my groove and when I did, ohhhhh Diary it felt great!
Out of water, found my bike, geared up and headed for the mount line (Ensuring I was pushing from my seat so I was “cool” looking.) I saw Angie and shook my head, as I knew my time was not going to be as I hoped it would be. 36:58 (slower than last year)
Off on the bike! Off comes my fuel bottle, argh, I stopped and a nice person retrieved it for me. Lovely day for bike ride weather wise, not so much road wise. Diary coming through Stony past the construction, hitting one serious bump after another caused my fuel bottle to almost fall out again, thanks to the athlete who told me I saved it. Diary shortly after that I had such a dark cloud of “I don’t want to be here” come over me I knew exactly what Coach Angie experienced during the Calgary Half. I had to make a decision and I did, I would finish the race for the sake of finishing.
Diary somewhere along the way I got back into what I was doing and had SUCH a great ride! Managed not to have to pee until 40k! I faithfully ingested my Infinite and managed to transfer from one bottle to my aero bottle without spilling! I even got a warning for drafting! “Hey Saskatchewan, mind your distance between you and the person ahead of you” We were on a hill! Guess it wasn’t really hill enough. No card though so I thanked the marshall and backed off. (Yes I did eventually pass the guy).
The last 10k into Stony just about did me in Diary. Egad, thank goodness for a sports bra that holds everything in place, as the road was CRAP I tell you!
The last challenge was the car that was trying to turn left up the hill to the dismount line that I almost ran into on my bike! I dropped one loud F-Bomb when I had to brake and drop my gears. I apologized to the spectators and got by the car. Yeesh. Bike time 2:59:01, close to 4 min improvement from last year!
Diary you know I am not a fan of the run but I had such a good ride that it carried me into the next stage. I forgot my watch at home Diary and I thought it wouldn’t matter but ohhhh it did. The start was a bit dodgy but I managed to pull myself together after 4k or so. Coach Angie saw me at that point, Diary, she is so observant! She knew I wasn’t happy!
The usual gut issues flared but thank goodness for “perfectly placed porta potties”.
My knee decided to give me major grief very close to the turnaround and I was one ticked off athlete. The others that ran by me as I was limping from tree to tree were so kind to me and one guy even asked if I needed salt. Diary I had to do something as there was NO effin’ way I was going to not finish. I manipulated my knee and it seemed to work and off I headed at a slightly slower pace. (Diary the watch would’ve really helped here). Back towards the home stretch and I was getting hungry, as in nothing in my stomach-start-to-ache-get-dizzy-hungry. Yeah for Heed! I tried the cookies but they didn’t quite work and eventually switched to the oranges, mmmmm tasty!
Just before 19k a man behind me said, “If you keep this pace up I’ll follow you and we will make under 6”
Diary, did I hear him right? He was going to follow me because of my pace! WOW Diary that was an amazing boost for me!
He was my new best friend and we did get through the last portion of the race. We agreed to walk any hills (he said it would be like adventure racing that way). Diary, I had him on the hills even walking and I did tell him that I would defiantly not walk the last hill to the finish line.
I finished strong but my time for the run was 2:21:18, not what I was hoping for.
My overall time was 5:57:17 most defiantly not what I was hoping for.
Diary, I have to figure out what I can eat that will “stick to my ribs” but not give me too much trouble.
I have to work on my run pace, as I believe I start out too fast. For the 1st time as I neared the last “climb” from the park to the finish line I knew I had more in me, just need to figure out the fuelling thing.
Lesson learned-wear a damn watch!
Diary, this was a learning race and I am glad that I got scared in the swim, as I said to Coach Angie afterwards I tend to get cocky when it comes to the swim. I had a great bike and I learned that I can go faster and I can relax going downhill!
I also learned I need to pace better in the run as I do have a comfortable pace for me and if others like it then more power to me!
Diary for the record I placed 12th in my AG, and I’m ok with that.
Diary get ready for the next push, IMC, here I come!
I just have to tell you about GWN, it was such a learning curve!
The fun began on Friday July 1st when all my TTL friends and supporters met at the pre race dinner. Diary, Cathy was amazing as my support for this race (aka Sherpa Cathy!)
I got the nicest compliment when Toni asked, “Where the other half of Leslie-Anne was?” Diary I was sooooo pleased to hear such a compliment! It was a real ego booster.
Saturday we (TTL and supporters) gathered at Allen Beach to do our pre race stuff. Coach Angie asked that all the strong swimmers start out fast for 200 m and then slow down to race pace.
Well, see if I ever do that again! OMG!! After I did the 200m I had such difficulty regaining my breath there was NO WAY I would be doing that in a race.
That was the 1st lesson learned.
Saturday afternoon hanging around the hotel with every intention of reading when the lovely Richelle stopped by. During the conversation I stated my worst fear was getting a flat, as I didn’t really know how to change one. Now Diary as a triathlete I should know how to change a flat and even Richelle was surprised (and shocked) that I didn’t.
Richelle then spent time with me one on one and coached me through changing a flat. My fear was dispelled and I know now that should I flat during the race at least I would be able to change my tire. Not fast mind you but I could do it.
That was the 2nd lesson learned.
Quiet night, prepped my fuel, clothing, and watched Thelma and Louise, mmmm Diary Brad Pitt was mighty fine in that movie!!! (teehee!)
Race Day dawned a beautiful clear blue sky and I thought wow, I’d be dealing with sun for the 1st time ever!
I enjoyed my breakky and soon we were off to the race.
Diary, you know how I HATE the black condom (aka wetsuit) but Diary I did better in getting most of it on and with Sarah’s hubby to put his hands down my pants pulling form the inside it was on in no time! Diary, you know this has to be done and thank goodness Sarah is cool about Kevin helping out!
Next thing I’m in the water the for warm up, get a great hug from Coach Angie enroute to my place along the fence.
Diary what happened next surprised even me! I got going in the swim and before I knew it I was starting to have issues! ME~ issues in the swim!!! Just when I got my fecal matter together I saw a male swimmer in true distress. He was having trouble and it was me that got the attention of the vollies in the boats. I made sure he cleared the swimmers before I continued.
Wow, that was a scary thing to see and hear Diary, someone that scared. I did manage to get going and find my groove and when I did, ohhhhh Diary it felt great!
Out of water, found my bike, geared up and headed for the mount line (Ensuring I was pushing from my seat so I was “cool” looking.) I saw Angie and shook my head, as I knew my time was not going to be as I hoped it would be. 36:58 (slower than last year)
Off on the bike! Off comes my fuel bottle, argh, I stopped and a nice person retrieved it for me. Lovely day for bike ride weather wise, not so much road wise. Diary coming through Stony past the construction, hitting one serious bump after another caused my fuel bottle to almost fall out again, thanks to the athlete who told me I saved it. Diary shortly after that I had such a dark cloud of “I don’t want to be here” come over me I knew exactly what Coach Angie experienced during the Calgary Half. I had to make a decision and I did, I would finish the race for the sake of finishing.
Diary somewhere along the way I got back into what I was doing and had SUCH a great ride! Managed not to have to pee until 40k! I faithfully ingested my Infinite and managed to transfer from one bottle to my aero bottle without spilling! I even got a warning for drafting! “Hey Saskatchewan, mind your distance between you and the person ahead of you” We were on a hill! Guess it wasn’t really hill enough. No card though so I thanked the marshall and backed off. (Yes I did eventually pass the guy).
The last 10k into Stony just about did me in Diary. Egad, thank goodness for a sports bra that holds everything in place, as the road was CRAP I tell you!
The last challenge was the car that was trying to turn left up the hill to the dismount line that I almost ran into on my bike! I dropped one loud F-Bomb when I had to brake and drop my gears. I apologized to the spectators and got by the car. Yeesh. Bike time 2:59:01, close to 4 min improvement from last year!
Diary you know I am not a fan of the run but I had such a good ride that it carried me into the next stage. I forgot my watch at home Diary and I thought it wouldn’t matter but ohhhh it did. The start was a bit dodgy but I managed to pull myself together after 4k or so. Coach Angie saw me at that point, Diary, she is so observant! She knew I wasn’t happy!
The usual gut issues flared but thank goodness for “perfectly placed porta potties”.
My knee decided to give me major grief very close to the turnaround and I was one ticked off athlete. The others that ran by me as I was limping from tree to tree were so kind to me and one guy even asked if I needed salt. Diary I had to do something as there was NO effin’ way I was going to not finish. I manipulated my knee and it seemed to work and off I headed at a slightly slower pace. (Diary the watch would’ve really helped here). Back towards the home stretch and I was getting hungry, as in nothing in my stomach-start-to-ache-get-dizzy-hungry. Yeah for Heed! I tried the cookies but they didn’t quite work and eventually switched to the oranges, mmmmm tasty!
Just before 19k a man behind me said, “If you keep this pace up I’ll follow you and we will make under 6”
Diary, did I hear him right? He was going to follow me because of my pace! WOW Diary that was an amazing boost for me!
He was my new best friend and we did get through the last portion of the race. We agreed to walk any hills (he said it would be like adventure racing that way). Diary, I had him on the hills even walking and I did tell him that I would defiantly not walk the last hill to the finish line.
I finished strong but my time for the run was 2:21:18, not what I was hoping for.
My overall time was 5:57:17 most defiantly not what I was hoping for.
Diary, I have to figure out what I can eat that will “stick to my ribs” but not give me too much trouble.
I have to work on my run pace, as I believe I start out too fast. For the 1st time as I neared the last “climb” from the park to the finish line I knew I had more in me, just need to figure out the fuelling thing.
Lesson learned-wear a damn watch!
Diary, this was a learning race and I am glad that I got scared in the swim, as I said to Coach Angie afterwards I tend to get cocky when it comes to the swim. I had a great bike and I learned that I can go faster and I can relax going downhill!
I also learned I need to pace better in the run as I do have a comfortable pace for me and if others like it then more power to me!
Diary for the record I placed 12th in my AG, and I’m ok with that.
Diary get ready for the next push, IMC, here I come!
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Cindy's GWN Race Report July 3, 2011
The Dress Rehearsal: Great White North Half-Ironman Race Report
So with all of the training that Richelle has prescribed and that I have enthusiastically completed, I was ready to see what kind of results I'd get at a longer distance event, like a half-ironman. I wanted to treat GWN as a dress rehearsal for IMC, what a perfect opportunity to let it all hang out without worrying about the outcome or possible disaster.
Here are the distances: swim 2km, bike 90km, run 21.3km. I raced GWN two years ago as my first half-iron, and while the 6:45ish finishing time was a good performance on that day, I was also hoping to up the ante and see what the added training would do for me. I was ready for a dress rehearsal, time to try out nutrition, clothing, strategies etc. And see how far I could push the envelope.
This is how the day unfolded...
Lesley-Anne was kind enough to drive us to the lake, rather than take the uber-early bus (thanks LA!). I quickly headed to transition, organized my bike and other stuff, headed for the port-a-potty line, then worked myself into my (new!) wetsuit. Fits like a glove. I dove into the lake for a short warm-up (yucky murky water at the shore, ugh!), back on shore. I totally ignored all the crazies who natter about wheels and nutrition, I found my quiet zone and worked my plan. After exiting the water, while standing around waiting for the start, I was beside Cindy & Scott, who were sporting their Garmin 310XT's. I usually don't start my watch until the bike, as it is big and bulky and tends to get trapped in my wetsuit. Scott pointed out that because I have the quick release band, I can easily palm and twist off the Garmin. In a split second decision (and primarily because this is my dress-rehearsal race), I ran over to my bike and activated the Auto Multisport function. A huge THANKS to Scott and Cindy for their words of wisdom; this is what I love about our Team, we're good support and share info and experiences in a very open manner, it's awesome. The Garmin was a big success, I like having the extra data from the swim portion, transition info, love it.
Time to hit the water! My race plan called for getting into the mix of it all, taking some bumps and swimming with my peer group. Yep, I was certainly in unfamiliar territory! Lots of bumps, a kick to the chin, someone swam over my back, quite the washing machine! It ironed itself out after the first 400m, I kept swimming thru it all, long strokes, felt like a fish! Wonderful! The first lap was over quickly, sub 20min, then on to the 2nd lap. Not as bumpy, somehow I slowed down a bit, but still a huge improvement over 2009.
2009 swim time: +45min
2011 swim time: 40min
T1 was smooth, I probably could have gone faster, but it was smooth. I heard Angie at the mount line, I saw Danielle M, we gave a little cheer, then I pedaled up the hill.
I don't remember much about my bike ride, other than it was hillier course than I recalled from 2009. I remember trying to cram in my allotted nutrition, but I started to feel nauseous; I was unsure whether it was the nutrition or the exertion level, so I took little sips and prayed they would sustain me until the run portion of the race. The hills really sapped my speed, I lost ground to a lot of competitors on the hills, why oh why am I so slow on the hills, I train on hills, I mountain bike, I'm consistent on the hills with a good turnover rate, for the love of all things holy, why do hills slam into me like a freight train??? Something to work on, I'm sure.... anyhow, I stayed pretty focused, only momentary lapses, and the out and back course was helpful in determining where other teammates were on the course, cheering for them, encouraging them, receiving some cheers back. Nice.
2009 bike time: 3:16
2011 bike time: 3:04
T2 also went smoothly. Again, I could have been a bit quicker, but it felt like I was missing something, so I did a triple check before running out the gate. No harm done.
The half-marathon that they throw at us after swimming and biking is no picnic. Your legs are tired, and running 21.3km's is not what tired legs want to do. I generally pound thru the first 10km and hope that I can hang on; it's between 10-14km that I lose focus, I allow the nagging aches and pains to consume me, and I walk. Today was no exception, I desparately wanted to walk and walk and walk. I was tired, I needed motivation. That's when the TTL people starting appearing, as it was the out-and-back section of the course. TTL rocks, I am so thankful that we give each other a smile, a high five, a "go girl", whatever. It picked me up and pushed me forward, a gentle push to move me ahead. I also thought back to my race planning, and reminded myself that if an 8-year old can run 1km in 5:28, I needed to get it in gear. So I did.
In the past, the run portion of the race seems to have been my achilles heel: tummy trouble, nutrition issues, foot issues. I was determined not to let any of these slow me down. Yes, my foot started to hurt, yes, I grabbed the wrong nutrition bottle this morning so after the first sip I knew I would be doomed if I continued sipping, and yes, my tummy was still nauseous. The important part is how I solved these race-day in-the-moment issues.
1) ignore the foot: pain is temporary. Try to wiggle my feet a bit so that it stretches out, just keep going. I need to go back to see Sarah P again for more ideas for IMC. Post-race I iced it, stretched it, rolled it, and now my foot is back to normal.
2) time to look for alternative nutrition. The aid stations are serving flat cola and oranges, let's see what happens. I took mini sips of flat cola, it seemed to stay down and didn't jiggle in my tummy, in fact the sugar content was yummy, and little sips successfully got me through the run from min 61-110. Then I sampled a couple of orange wedges. Wow, they tasted amazing! And they seemed to work even better than the cola! Who knew?!
3) I decided that being nauseous was a by-product of my exertion level. Richelle had encouraged me to go hard on the bike and still hold steady on the run (similar to Wasa). Well, my bike was certainly a strong ride, and when I hit the run my HR was hovering around 160, where it stayed the entire run, even elevating a bit towards the end. I'm pretty certain that this high exertion level caused my nausea. And since I didn't actually vomit, I think it indicates that I was on the fine line of racing to my limit and totally blowing up.
Turns out the run portion of my race may no longer be my achilles heel:
2009 run time: 2:45ish
2011 run time: 2:22
Total 2009 time: 6:45ish
Total 2011 time: 6:07
Overall, I'm super excited about my results, my performance, my teammates, everything! This dress rehearsal was a huge success!
Now I'm ready for training camp, and I know that when August 28th rolls around, I'll be ready for that, too!
So with all of the training that Richelle has prescribed and that I have enthusiastically completed, I was ready to see what kind of results I'd get at a longer distance event, like a half-ironman. I wanted to treat GWN as a dress rehearsal for IMC, what a perfect opportunity to let it all hang out without worrying about the outcome or possible disaster.
Here are the distances: swim 2km, bike 90km, run 21.3km. I raced GWN two years ago as my first half-iron, and while the 6:45ish finishing time was a good performance on that day, I was also hoping to up the ante and see what the added training would do for me. I was ready for a dress rehearsal, time to try out nutrition, clothing, strategies etc. And see how far I could push the envelope.
This is how the day unfolded...
Lesley-Anne was kind enough to drive us to the lake, rather than take the uber-early bus (thanks LA!). I quickly headed to transition, organized my bike and other stuff, headed for the port-a-potty line, then worked myself into my (new!) wetsuit. Fits like a glove. I dove into the lake for a short warm-up (yucky murky water at the shore, ugh!), back on shore. I totally ignored all the crazies who natter about wheels and nutrition, I found my quiet zone and worked my plan. After exiting the water, while standing around waiting for the start, I was beside Cindy & Scott, who were sporting their Garmin 310XT's. I usually don't start my watch until the bike, as it is big and bulky and tends to get trapped in my wetsuit. Scott pointed out that because I have the quick release band, I can easily palm and twist off the Garmin. In a split second decision (and primarily because this is my dress-rehearsal race), I ran over to my bike and activated the Auto Multisport function. A huge THANKS to Scott and Cindy for their words of wisdom; this is what I love about our Team, we're good support and share info and experiences in a very open manner, it's awesome. The Garmin was a big success, I like having the extra data from the swim portion, transition info, love it.
Time to hit the water! My race plan called for getting into the mix of it all, taking some bumps and swimming with my peer group. Yep, I was certainly in unfamiliar territory! Lots of bumps, a kick to the chin, someone swam over my back, quite the washing machine! It ironed itself out after the first 400m, I kept swimming thru it all, long strokes, felt like a fish! Wonderful! The first lap was over quickly, sub 20min, then on to the 2nd lap. Not as bumpy, somehow I slowed down a bit, but still a huge improvement over 2009.
2009 swim time: +45min
2011 swim time: 40min
T1 was smooth, I probably could have gone faster, but it was smooth. I heard Angie at the mount line, I saw Danielle M, we gave a little cheer, then I pedaled up the hill.
I don't remember much about my bike ride, other than it was hillier course than I recalled from 2009. I remember trying to cram in my allotted nutrition, but I started to feel nauseous; I was unsure whether it was the nutrition or the exertion level, so I took little sips and prayed they would sustain me until the run portion of the race. The hills really sapped my speed, I lost ground to a lot of competitors on the hills, why oh why am I so slow on the hills, I train on hills, I mountain bike, I'm consistent on the hills with a good turnover rate, for the love of all things holy, why do hills slam into me like a freight train??? Something to work on, I'm sure.... anyhow, I stayed pretty focused, only momentary lapses, and the out and back course was helpful in determining where other teammates were on the course, cheering for them, encouraging them, receiving some cheers back. Nice.
2009 bike time: 3:16
2011 bike time: 3:04
T2 also went smoothly. Again, I could have been a bit quicker, but it felt like I was missing something, so I did a triple check before running out the gate. No harm done.
The half-marathon that they throw at us after swimming and biking is no picnic. Your legs are tired, and running 21.3km's is not what tired legs want to do. I generally pound thru the first 10km and hope that I can hang on; it's between 10-14km that I lose focus, I allow the nagging aches and pains to consume me, and I walk. Today was no exception, I desparately wanted to walk and walk and walk. I was tired, I needed motivation. That's when the TTL people starting appearing, as it was the out-and-back section of the course. TTL rocks, I am so thankful that we give each other a smile, a high five, a "go girl", whatever. It picked me up and pushed me forward, a gentle push to move me ahead. I also thought back to my race planning, and reminded myself that if an 8-year old can run 1km in 5:28, I needed to get it in gear. So I did.
In the past, the run portion of the race seems to have been my achilles heel: tummy trouble, nutrition issues, foot issues. I was determined not to let any of these slow me down. Yes, my foot started to hurt, yes, I grabbed the wrong nutrition bottle this morning so after the first sip I knew I would be doomed if I continued sipping, and yes, my tummy was still nauseous. The important part is how I solved these race-day in-the-moment issues.
1) ignore the foot: pain is temporary. Try to wiggle my feet a bit so that it stretches out, just keep going. I need to go back to see Sarah P again for more ideas for IMC. Post-race I iced it, stretched it, rolled it, and now my foot is back to normal.
2) time to look for alternative nutrition. The aid stations are serving flat cola and oranges, let's see what happens. I took mini sips of flat cola, it seemed to stay down and didn't jiggle in my tummy, in fact the sugar content was yummy, and little sips successfully got me through the run from min 61-110. Then I sampled a couple of orange wedges. Wow, they tasted amazing! And they seemed to work even better than the cola! Who knew?!
3) I decided that being nauseous was a by-product of my exertion level. Richelle had encouraged me to go hard on the bike and still hold steady on the run (similar to Wasa). Well, my bike was certainly a strong ride, and when I hit the run my HR was hovering around 160, where it stayed the entire run, even elevating a bit towards the end. I'm pretty certain that this high exertion level caused my nausea. And since I didn't actually vomit, I think it indicates that I was on the fine line of racing to my limit and totally blowing up.
Turns out the run portion of my race may no longer be my achilles heel:
2009 run time: 2:45ish
2011 run time: 2:22
Total 2009 time: 6:45ish
Total 2011 time: 6:07
Overall, I'm super excited about my results, my performance, my teammates, everything! This dress rehearsal was a huge success!
Now I'm ready for training camp, and I know that when August 28th rolls around, I'll be ready for that, too!
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Christine's Chinook OD race report - June 2011
Chinook OD
Warning: the following may include mushiness, personal content and some F bombs.
I had to write this as soon as I got home. As some of you may know, I have had four incredibly hard years. I have spent a lot of those four years training in my head. Every run, bike and swim I have battled what was happening domestically and personally.
Last year was my worst season, every race I had "female issues" and was struggling with low iron as well as feeling utterly shity and sad about my life. The Apple was my only decent race, and I fell at that one.
This year things are slowly getting better. Today was a training day, as I have my eye on the 70.3. Today was about getting my race legs and working out some kinks. I did not think that this would be my best time as I am very tired from fundraising mania, helping my kids get to dance camp in Disneyland. But today I got a lot more than I bargained for.
The swim felt great, as I was trying a new head position and I was just "swimming", I kept bumping into Tara and when I realized it was her – I said "sorry Tara". I got out of the water and still felt good. Then on to the bike, it was a tougher ride up the hill and against the wind – but something was different today. I felt good, I felt strong and I wasn't verbally beating myself up. At this point I could care less about my time – it was fun, I was having fun. I felt so good, no guilt for not doing everything Angie asked me to do – I have been training consistently – I was not frustrated by the people passing me – I barley noticed, I was looking forward, I felt good.
After the turn around I went to this place, a race zone that I don't recall going to before. My mind, body, emotions and spirit were one. I was experiencing harmony and self pride. For goodness sake, I was exercising and moving my body, in a way that not a lot of people do. I was not handicapped or physically incapable of doing this, I was no longer mentally tortured by myself or my life circumstances. I was happy, I was riding for me. I have a job where 100% of me go toward helping other, I am a mother where 100% goes towards making sure they are okay, happy, fed, clean, exercised, schooled, and socialized. 98% of my days are usually about others. Today was about me and ME and my fine self. I love this sport and I love the fact that I can do it. Usually I am so bummed because I am really slow, but I totally did not care or even think about that. I was playing.
As I was heading back after the turn around I came flying down those hills – I thought at one point ”man this seems fast" – I checked and I was doing 60k. "WEEE look at me go" was my exact thought.
I was happy when I came into transition and happy when I left – felt good and kept going. I was once again having this strange experience of joy in my body, mind, emotions and spirit. I felt good. I stopped looking at my watch and just went with it. I was not upset at people passing me (as they always do), I was just running for me. I recall passing a few people and around the 7 k mark I started to see how far I could push it and gave it my all. This year I was not running with the people who looked like they were about to dye. I even had some one say "I thought for sure I could catch you – but I just couldn't. When I was finished I was still happy and glad to be spending time with myself for 3 and a half hour. Yes I know that this is quite slow.
My final time – I really don't fucking care – I had fun, I am a triathlete, and all else fails I put my bid in for voting myself as Miss Congeniality.
Thanks Team, your are all wonderful and thanks Angie.
Christine…slow and happy
Warning: the following may include mushiness, personal content and some F bombs.
I had to write this as soon as I got home. As some of you may know, I have had four incredibly hard years. I have spent a lot of those four years training in my head. Every run, bike and swim I have battled what was happening domestically and personally.
Last year was my worst season, every race I had "female issues" and was struggling with low iron as well as feeling utterly shity and sad about my life. The Apple was my only decent race, and I fell at that one.
This year things are slowly getting better. Today was a training day, as I have my eye on the 70.3. Today was about getting my race legs and working out some kinks. I did not think that this would be my best time as I am very tired from fundraising mania, helping my kids get to dance camp in Disneyland. But today I got a lot more than I bargained for.
The swim felt great, as I was trying a new head position and I was just "swimming", I kept bumping into Tara and when I realized it was her – I said "sorry Tara". I got out of the water and still felt good. Then on to the bike, it was a tougher ride up the hill and against the wind – but something was different today. I felt good, I felt strong and I wasn't verbally beating myself up. At this point I could care less about my time – it was fun, I was having fun. I felt so good, no guilt for not doing everything Angie asked me to do – I have been training consistently – I was not frustrated by the people passing me – I barley noticed, I was looking forward, I felt good.
After the turn around I went to this place, a race zone that I don't recall going to before. My mind, body, emotions and spirit were one. I was experiencing harmony and self pride. For goodness sake, I was exercising and moving my body, in a way that not a lot of people do. I was not handicapped or physically incapable of doing this, I was no longer mentally tortured by myself or my life circumstances. I was happy, I was riding for me. I have a job where 100% of me go toward helping other, I am a mother where 100% goes towards making sure they are okay, happy, fed, clean, exercised, schooled, and socialized. 98% of my days are usually about others. Today was about me and ME and my fine self. I love this sport and I love the fact that I can do it. Usually I am so bummed because I am really slow, but I totally did not care or even think about that. I was playing.
As I was heading back after the turn around I came flying down those hills – I thought at one point ”man this seems fast" – I checked and I was doing 60k. "WEEE look at me go" was my exact thought.
I was happy when I came into transition and happy when I left – felt good and kept going. I was once again having this strange experience of joy in my body, mind, emotions and spirit. I felt good. I stopped looking at my watch and just went with it. I was not upset at people passing me (as they always do), I was just running for me. I recall passing a few people and around the 7 k mark I started to see how far I could push it and gave it my all. This year I was not running with the people who looked like they were about to dye. I even had some one say "I thought for sure I could catch you – but I just couldn't. When I was finished I was still happy and glad to be spending time with myself for 3 and a half hour. Yes I know that this is quite slow.
My final time – I really don't fucking care – I had fun, I am a triathlete, and all else fails I put my bid in for voting myself as Miss Congeniality.
Thanks Team, your are all wonderful and thanks Angie.
Christine…slow and happy
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Shannon's IMC race report - 2010
IMC 2010 Race Report
I have taken a very long time to finally get this done. I think part of me thinks once I am done writing this, it’s really over. In the first few weeks after Ironman, I told my IMC story at least once per day. Now I am telling it only once per week so I thought I should get it on paper ASAP. Even though it is late, I hope that my story will help some of our teammates getting ready for their first Ironman this year.
In general, I am an over achiever, A-type personality. Triathlons have been a very humbling experience as I am at the bottom of the heap. This really bothered me my first few years but something changed the week of Ironman. My whole training season leading up to Ironman was full of doubt and the biggest worry for me was bike cut-off. At our training camp in July, this doubt heightened when I could not make it up Yellow Lake. Many of my teammates witnessed my meltdown and throwing of my bike at the top. Angie gave me a stern talking to but the doubt hung over me like a cloud.
Ironman week arrived and our first team swim was Thursday morning in Lake Okanagan. My competitive swimming background was not enough for me to overcome my open water anxiety. Every time I was in open water I would have to use various techniques to calm myself down. It usually took a good 500 m to get into the groove. That Thursday morning I was really nervous with getting the wetsuit on and getting in for the swim. I got in the water and started swimming – something was different. I didn’t need to calm myself down. I actually felt good and comfortable in the open water. It was a huge Ah-ha moment. The week was starting off well.
The team atmosphere was amazing all week. I had great support from my parents, youngest son and my friends Angela and Bruce. My husband and oldest son were at hockey tryouts but kept my spirits up with their updates and checking in on me. I was amazingly calm all week. When I picked up my race package Thursday, the doubt about bike cut-off loomed large. This is the main reason I made the decision to sign up for IMC 2011 that day. It took a little pressure off. If I did not make it, the training f0r 2010 were just necessary steps towards finishing it in 2011.
The night before the race, we had a BBQ with my friends Angela, Angela’s parents, and Bruce. They surprised me with T-shirts they planned on wearing that donned Team Ouellette. It was great to have such enthusiastic support. We had a nice relaxing evening leading up to a sleepless night.
The morning came way too soon but everything went as planned until body marking time. I was in line with Tanya to get body marking when she said she had to change batteries in her watch. Shear panic over-whelmed me. I had forgotten my watch and heart rate monitor. I went hysterical when I couldn’t get a hold of my parents. Tears were flowing!! I had to find Angie. As usual, Angie calmed me down. She told me I could use her watch and to race on feel, not to worry about the heart rate. I didn’t have much choice so I finished the preparation for the swim. Walking to the beach brought on the butterflies. I heard “Mom” and looked up. Josh and my parents had a perfect vantage point for the race start and I got a much needed high five from Josh. I saw Tara on the beach so we stood together waiting for our big day to get started. I reviewed in my mind who I was dedicating each leg of the race to. The swim was for my friend Kim. It was her birthday and I wouldn’t get to talk to her, so I wanted her in my thoughts. The bike was dedicated to Shawn Riley, an employee of mine who died suddenly at the age of 30 years old just a month earlier. His enthusiasm for life had touched me and I wanted to do his memory proud. The run was for my Grandpa who had died the past September. He had had a long illness and was a fighter. I knew I had a guardian angel watching me so I would try to be a fighter like him.
Before I knew it, we were off. My goggles were leaking so I was playing with them quite a bit but felt good. There were not a lot of swimmers running into me so that was a bonus. UNTIL, that is, I heard a volunteer in a canoe say “YOU ARE GOING THE WRONG WAY”. I stopped and looked up and realized there was not a soul around me – I was swimming parallel to shore instead of toward the buoys. My heart sunk. Even though I didn’t want to have “official” time goals, I wanted to finish the swim around 1:30. I pushed that out of my mind and got back to the task at hand. I got back on course and got into a great rhythm. I used Joanne’s mental game of one buoy at a time and I had a great rest of my swim. As I ran out of the water, I glanced at my watch – 1:20! I felt elated – despite my terrible start I had surpassed my secret goal. I think at this point, I had set the tone for the day. T1 went really well. I read my first note from my friend Cathy. She had given me a note for every bag and I was happy to have her around me Ironman day. She was a huge part of my Ironman journey as she had done all my long bike rides with me. She even came to the Ironman training camp to support me despite a bad back. Off to the bike, the dreaded bike. Along the fence I saw Angela, Bruce, Josh and my Mom and Dad. I gave them big waves and smiles and felt choked up. I rounded the corner to the cheers of Team Tri-Life. I really was doing this.
McLean Creek was there before I knew it and that little climb went well. I was going to take the first 60 km easy-peasy as Angie preached. I did that and it worked well. I was getting in the nutrition and fluids. Richter loomed ahead and I viewed that as a big test for me. I did it training camp day but it was hard. The hill was lined with many spectators. I heard Thunderstruck blaring which gave me a huge boost. Gord Clayholt was actually one of the reasons I started triathlons. Through the years we had kept in touch and I was very superstitious about seeing him at races. It was always in the back of my mind that I had to see him. He would be behind me on the swim, but always passed me on the bike. Going up Richter, I heard Gord say “You have got the bike”. This made me smile and deepened my resolve to gut this race it. Before I knew it, I was being greeted by Wade Church (GWN Organizer) at the top. As I told Angie when I saw her on my run, “I climbed Richter effortlessly”.
The Seven Witches were a nuisance but I did ok. The whole time I was doing them, I kept thinking about Yellow Lake. Just before turning onto the out and back, I saw Tanya in front of me and followed her for a while. Legs were tiring so it was nice to see a familiar face. At the out and back I should have gone to the washroom but the line-up was too long. I had not needed to really go yet so I thought I would wait for the run (yes Angie, I never used the washroom until 2 km into my run. I never told you that yet). The weather was a little nasty but I thought it was better than the 39 degrees we had at training camp. I dreaded Yellow Lake from the special needs station until I started the climb. It was lined with lots of cheering people. I looked up and saw the lane narrowing sign Kelly had told me to watch for. I was at the top of Yellow Lake and I really started to believe I would make bike cut-off. Now for the descent. It was liberating. I am a very slow and nervous descender. I felt like I was having a great trip down the hills and I even passed people which was unheard of. Coming into Penticton, I saw Leslie-Ann and Roger
in Roughrider green and their cheering gave me another lift to keep going. The last 10 km was painful and passing people already on the run made we realize it was far from over. Bike cut-off was 5:30 and I wheeled in T2 at 4:00 – I really did it. I was slow in transition but I was just so thrilled that I had done it I was relishing the moment. Heading out on the run, I gave my adoring fans hugs and high fives. I was really choked up at the point when Josh and Bruce ran along the fence encouraging me. I knew I wouldn’t see them until dark.
In the first km I saw JoZ and Richelle. I got much needed hugs and words of support from them. I had the honour of catching Richelle the year before at her first Ironman so it was a really good omen to see her at that point. I ran until around the 2 km mark and decided it was time to go to the washroom for the first time. Had to be done but oh my goodness!! I just about passed out – I had extreme chafing and it was anything but a relieving feeling. I saw Angie at Cherry Lane mall and she ran with me for a bit. I wanted to tell her everything but didn’t have time. Angie you are such a great coach and friend and even though we do this silly sport for ourselves, I felt so happy that you told me how proud you were I had made the bike. It meant a lot. Shortly after leaving Angie, I met up with a young lady, Maya, and we started chatting. It turned out she was also an engineer and we had a great conversation. During this part of the run, I saw Tara and we had smiles for each other – we were doing an Ironman!! Then I saw Ally who was enjoying every second of the day and made me laugh. About the 18 km mark I was starting to fade so Maya said her good byes and took off. I got to see Kelly heading back and boy, familiar faces and genuine smiles go a long way on Ironman day. I caught up to Nola and John and at that point, they were exactly what I needed. We ran into OK Falls and then I continued on to special needs. My salted potatoes were exactly what the stomach ordered. The coke was giving me a little bit of a tummy ache but the potatoes settled it down.
I then started the hardest part of the race for me which was the run back into Penticton. There were less people on the course, Penticton lights far away and it was dark. It took an eternity to get into Penticton. This was the part of the race that had few smiles or high points. Finally, I was in town and had 2 km left. The second last km felt like it took forever. You could see people heading across the finish line and I just wanted to be done. At the 1 km mark, our team was cheering. Angie came up to me with a big hug and I felt so overwhelmed. I just wanted to stay here. Angie pushed me and said “Get it done, you are an Ironman!” A volunteer informed me that I had 6 minutes if I wanted to beat 15 hours. There was no way I could get a km done in 6:00!! What the hell, I wanted to try it. I finished strong and the time was 14:58:55. I was an Ironman and I was getting a tattoo!!! I always thought I would have tears crossing the finish line but all I felt was elation and couldn’t quit smiling. My family and friends found me and took care of me which was awesome. I needed some TLC. Josh declared “Mom you are so fast!!!” He was just so happy I was in at 10:00. I had warned him all week I would probably be out there until midnight and I might not finish.
There is no way a person becomes an Ironman without a lot of support. I want to thank each and every person who has supported me throughout this journey. First, thanks to my coach and friend. I met Angie by fluke at a “learn to run a 10 km” clinic and have been with her since. Her honesty and intensity pushed me to believe in myself. I do finally believe her – I am a triathlete. The other thing Angie has brought into my life is my teammates. Being in Airdrie, I never felt a real part of the team until this last year as it took a while to get to know everyone. Now that I know everyone, WOW!! We are so lucky to have the support of each other. Races and training would not be the same without Team Tri-Life. My husband, Ronnie, and kids, Dylan and Josh, allow me to train and encourage me to do so. Ronnie is honestly the most amazing husband. Do we fight? Of course we do but he is always by my side and my Ironman journey was no exception. Teenage boys don’t say a lot about their Moms but they have shown me they are proud which is very important to me. My parents have always been there for me and it meant the world to have them there that day. Angela and Bruce have stood by me and have been at more finish lines for me than anyone in my life – I was so happy to have them there for my first Ironman. Angela has met me many mornings at the gym for early morning workouts and has offered continuous encouragement. Cathy introduced me to triathlons and I would have not finished the bike if it wasn’t for the tireless bike rides she accompanied me on.
I am not an elite athlete but I love training as a triathlete. I have grown up over the last few years when it comes to my attitude about the finish line. Being able to cope with races, good and bad, is a life skill and my first Ironman was not about the day of the race. The race day was the icing on the cake. I took the whole day in stride and enjoyed every minute (well most every minute) and kept a smile on my face. Becoming an Ironman has been a life changing experience. I AM AN IRONMAN!!!
I have taken a very long time to finally get this done. I think part of me thinks once I am done writing this, it’s really over. In the first few weeks after Ironman, I told my IMC story at least once per day. Now I am telling it only once per week so I thought I should get it on paper ASAP. Even though it is late, I hope that my story will help some of our teammates getting ready for their first Ironman this year.
In general, I am an over achiever, A-type personality. Triathlons have been a very humbling experience as I am at the bottom of the heap. This really bothered me my first few years but something changed the week of Ironman. My whole training season leading up to Ironman was full of doubt and the biggest worry for me was bike cut-off. At our training camp in July, this doubt heightened when I could not make it up Yellow Lake. Many of my teammates witnessed my meltdown and throwing of my bike at the top. Angie gave me a stern talking to but the doubt hung over me like a cloud.
Ironman week arrived and our first team swim was Thursday morning in Lake Okanagan. My competitive swimming background was not enough for me to overcome my open water anxiety. Every time I was in open water I would have to use various techniques to calm myself down. It usually took a good 500 m to get into the groove. That Thursday morning I was really nervous with getting the wetsuit on and getting in for the swim. I got in the water and started swimming – something was different. I didn’t need to calm myself down. I actually felt good and comfortable in the open water. It was a huge Ah-ha moment. The week was starting off well.
The team atmosphere was amazing all week. I had great support from my parents, youngest son and my friends Angela and Bruce. My husband and oldest son were at hockey tryouts but kept my spirits up with their updates and checking in on me. I was amazingly calm all week. When I picked up my race package Thursday, the doubt about bike cut-off loomed large. This is the main reason I made the decision to sign up for IMC 2011 that day. It took a little pressure off. If I did not make it, the training f0r 2010 were just necessary steps towards finishing it in 2011.
The night before the race, we had a BBQ with my friends Angela, Angela’s parents, and Bruce. They surprised me with T-shirts they planned on wearing that donned Team Ouellette. It was great to have such enthusiastic support. We had a nice relaxing evening leading up to a sleepless night.
The morning came way too soon but everything went as planned until body marking time. I was in line with Tanya to get body marking when she said she had to change batteries in her watch. Shear panic over-whelmed me. I had forgotten my watch and heart rate monitor. I went hysterical when I couldn’t get a hold of my parents. Tears were flowing!! I had to find Angie. As usual, Angie calmed me down. She told me I could use her watch and to race on feel, not to worry about the heart rate. I didn’t have much choice so I finished the preparation for the swim. Walking to the beach brought on the butterflies. I heard “Mom” and looked up. Josh and my parents had a perfect vantage point for the race start and I got a much needed high five from Josh. I saw Tara on the beach so we stood together waiting for our big day to get started. I reviewed in my mind who I was dedicating each leg of the race to. The swim was for my friend Kim. It was her birthday and I wouldn’t get to talk to her, so I wanted her in my thoughts. The bike was dedicated to Shawn Riley, an employee of mine who died suddenly at the age of 30 years old just a month earlier. His enthusiasm for life had touched me and I wanted to do his memory proud. The run was for my Grandpa who had died the past September. He had had a long illness and was a fighter. I knew I had a guardian angel watching me so I would try to be a fighter like him.
Before I knew it, we were off. My goggles were leaking so I was playing with them quite a bit but felt good. There were not a lot of swimmers running into me so that was a bonus. UNTIL, that is, I heard a volunteer in a canoe say “YOU ARE GOING THE WRONG WAY”. I stopped and looked up and realized there was not a soul around me – I was swimming parallel to shore instead of toward the buoys. My heart sunk. Even though I didn’t want to have “official” time goals, I wanted to finish the swim around 1:30. I pushed that out of my mind and got back to the task at hand. I got back on course and got into a great rhythm. I used Joanne’s mental game of one buoy at a time and I had a great rest of my swim. As I ran out of the water, I glanced at my watch – 1:20! I felt elated – despite my terrible start I had surpassed my secret goal. I think at this point, I had set the tone for the day. T1 went really well. I read my first note from my friend Cathy. She had given me a note for every bag and I was happy to have her around me Ironman day. She was a huge part of my Ironman journey as she had done all my long bike rides with me. She even came to the Ironman training camp to support me despite a bad back. Off to the bike, the dreaded bike. Along the fence I saw Angela, Bruce, Josh and my Mom and Dad. I gave them big waves and smiles and felt choked up. I rounded the corner to the cheers of Team Tri-Life. I really was doing this.
McLean Creek was there before I knew it and that little climb went well. I was going to take the first 60 km easy-peasy as Angie preached. I did that and it worked well. I was getting in the nutrition and fluids. Richter loomed ahead and I viewed that as a big test for me. I did it training camp day but it was hard. The hill was lined with many spectators. I heard Thunderstruck blaring which gave me a huge boost. Gord Clayholt was actually one of the reasons I started triathlons. Through the years we had kept in touch and I was very superstitious about seeing him at races. It was always in the back of my mind that I had to see him. He would be behind me on the swim, but always passed me on the bike. Going up Richter, I heard Gord say “You have got the bike”. This made me smile and deepened my resolve to gut this race it. Before I knew it, I was being greeted by Wade Church (GWN Organizer) at the top. As I told Angie when I saw her on my run, “I climbed Richter effortlessly”.
The Seven Witches were a nuisance but I did ok. The whole time I was doing them, I kept thinking about Yellow Lake. Just before turning onto the out and back, I saw Tanya in front of me and followed her for a while. Legs were tiring so it was nice to see a familiar face. At the out and back I should have gone to the washroom but the line-up was too long. I had not needed to really go yet so I thought I would wait for the run (yes Angie, I never used the washroom until 2 km into my run. I never told you that yet). The weather was a little nasty but I thought it was better than the 39 degrees we had at training camp. I dreaded Yellow Lake from the special needs station until I started the climb. It was lined with lots of cheering people. I looked up and saw the lane narrowing sign Kelly had told me to watch for. I was at the top of Yellow Lake and I really started to believe I would make bike cut-off. Now for the descent. It was liberating. I am a very slow and nervous descender. I felt like I was having a great trip down the hills and I even passed people which was unheard of. Coming into Penticton, I saw Leslie-Ann and Roger
in Roughrider green and their cheering gave me another lift to keep going. The last 10 km was painful and passing people already on the run made we realize it was far from over. Bike cut-off was 5:30 and I wheeled in T2 at 4:00 – I really did it. I was slow in transition but I was just so thrilled that I had done it I was relishing the moment. Heading out on the run, I gave my adoring fans hugs and high fives. I was really choked up at the point when Josh and Bruce ran along the fence encouraging me. I knew I wouldn’t see them until dark.
In the first km I saw JoZ and Richelle. I got much needed hugs and words of support from them. I had the honour of catching Richelle the year before at her first Ironman so it was a really good omen to see her at that point. I ran until around the 2 km mark and decided it was time to go to the washroom for the first time. Had to be done but oh my goodness!! I just about passed out – I had extreme chafing and it was anything but a relieving feeling. I saw Angie at Cherry Lane mall and she ran with me for a bit. I wanted to tell her everything but didn’t have time. Angie you are such a great coach and friend and even though we do this silly sport for ourselves, I felt so happy that you told me how proud you were I had made the bike. It meant a lot. Shortly after leaving Angie, I met up with a young lady, Maya, and we started chatting. It turned out she was also an engineer and we had a great conversation. During this part of the run, I saw Tara and we had smiles for each other – we were doing an Ironman!! Then I saw Ally who was enjoying every second of the day and made me laugh. About the 18 km mark I was starting to fade so Maya said her good byes and took off. I got to see Kelly heading back and boy, familiar faces and genuine smiles go a long way on Ironman day. I caught up to Nola and John and at that point, they were exactly what I needed. We ran into OK Falls and then I continued on to special needs. My salted potatoes were exactly what the stomach ordered. The coke was giving me a little bit of a tummy ache but the potatoes settled it down.
I then started the hardest part of the race for me which was the run back into Penticton. There were less people on the course, Penticton lights far away and it was dark. It took an eternity to get into Penticton. This was the part of the race that had few smiles or high points. Finally, I was in town and had 2 km left. The second last km felt like it took forever. You could see people heading across the finish line and I just wanted to be done. At the 1 km mark, our team was cheering. Angie came up to me with a big hug and I felt so overwhelmed. I just wanted to stay here. Angie pushed me and said “Get it done, you are an Ironman!” A volunteer informed me that I had 6 minutes if I wanted to beat 15 hours. There was no way I could get a km done in 6:00!! What the hell, I wanted to try it. I finished strong and the time was 14:58:55. I was an Ironman and I was getting a tattoo!!! I always thought I would have tears crossing the finish line but all I felt was elation and couldn’t quit smiling. My family and friends found me and took care of me which was awesome. I needed some TLC. Josh declared “Mom you are so fast!!!” He was just so happy I was in at 10:00. I had warned him all week I would probably be out there until midnight and I might not finish.
There is no way a person becomes an Ironman without a lot of support. I want to thank each and every person who has supported me throughout this journey. First, thanks to my coach and friend. I met Angie by fluke at a “learn to run a 10 km” clinic and have been with her since. Her honesty and intensity pushed me to believe in myself. I do finally believe her – I am a triathlete. The other thing Angie has brought into my life is my teammates. Being in Airdrie, I never felt a real part of the team until this last year as it took a while to get to know everyone. Now that I know everyone, WOW!! We are so lucky to have the support of each other. Races and training would not be the same without Team Tri-Life. My husband, Ronnie, and kids, Dylan and Josh, allow me to train and encourage me to do so. Ronnie is honestly the most amazing husband. Do we fight? Of course we do but he is always by my side and my Ironman journey was no exception. Teenage boys don’t say a lot about their Moms but they have shown me they are proud which is very important to me. My parents have always been there for me and it meant the world to have them there that day. Angela and Bruce have stood by me and have been at more finish lines for me than anyone in my life – I was so happy to have them there for my first Ironman. Angela has met me many mornings at the gym for early morning workouts and has offered continuous encouragement. Cathy introduced me to triathlons and I would have not finished the bike if it wasn’t for the tireless bike rides she accompanied me on.
I am not an elite athlete but I love training as a triathlete. I have grown up over the last few years when it comes to my attitude about the finish line. Being able to cope with races, good and bad, is a life skill and my first Ironman was not about the day of the race. The race day was the icing on the cake. I took the whole day in stride and enjoyed every minute (well most every minute) and kept a smile on my face. Becoming an Ironman has been a life changing experience. I AM AN IRONMAN!!!
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