With that said though, it is also amazing to see how far I have come such a short amount of time.
Six months ago if you had told me I was going to be in a Ironman distance triathlon by the end of the year, I would have laughed at you. It was 6 months ago today that I was writing out my new years resolutions in which I had "sign up for an Ironman for 2013"... not actually be in one this year
Six months ago, I didn't swim... not regularly and I hadn't even touched the water in months.
Six months ago, I couldn't tell you the last time I was on a bicycle.... and clipless pedals were a new concept to me.
And in these last six months, I've not only picked up these new skills... I've completed 2 Olympic distance triathlons and earlier this month I completed a half Ironman 70.3 race.
.... none of this have come easy though. It has been six months of a lot of ups... and a lot more downs. Physically, mentally, financially, socially. I've gained a lot... I've lost a lot.
It hasn't been an easy process, although I never expected it to be... although there are parts that are a lot harder then I ever imagined.
June 10th was the Eagleman. 1.2 miles swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run.
Going into this I was worried about my run, and my performance that day proved my worries correct. Since I was so new to swimming and cycling, I had a tendency to focus on those disciplines, not realizing just how much my running was being effected.
Surprisingly, I slept well the night before... though when it is a night before a race, this only means I actually got sleep. Even the smallest amount makes for a good night.
I woke up a half hour before my alarm, at an early 2:30 am.
I knew it was going to be a hot day.. 98 degrees... so my biggest conflict of the morning was if I was going to sport a sports bra or a shirt this race.
You see... I always said that I would never be that girl to run in just a sports bra. It's a confidence thing.... and lets face it, over the last month or two I've packed on some pounds. I am by no means saying I am fat, but when it comes to a sport of spandex and skin, I'm one of the bigger girls out there. I'm only a few pounds shy of the Athena division.. the 'heavier girls' division.
What I am saying, is that I am not in my best shape. But wanting to stay as cool as possible this day ... I went for it. Sports bra it is.
I went the "who cares what other people think" route and just went for it.
We arrived at the race site long before the sun came up. 4:30am. [insert bathroom break number 1]
The transition area opened at 4:45 which allowed time for a long line of us crazies to form... because really... We are lining up at 4:30 am on a Sunday to complete 70.3 miles. To push our bodies through pain on a blistering 98 degree day, on a non-shaded course.
I managed to set up half of my area before the urge for another bathroom break came. What was that... 20... 30 minutes I managed to make it? Yay for good hydration prep.. but damn.
On my way back to transition, I saw this angelic light in front of me... even if it was still dark out.
A halo of light around a beautiful volunteer with a black permanent marker in hand.... my mom.
I couldn't let just ANY person tattoo my skin that day with my race number 2227.... although little did I know I would have to wait so that I could fall victim to a body marking photo shoot.
With my number on my arms, my age of my calf, and MD [mom dad] gracing my heart, hidden underneath my sports bra, I kissed this wonderful volunteer goodbye ... slightly creeping out the racers behind me.
"... dont worry, I don't kiss just any volunteer... she is my mom"... [insert a slight sigh of relief here].
I finished up my transition setup and my second breakfast before the time hit 6:45 and the transition area closed. It was time for the race to begin.
... Although for a young whipper-snapper like myself... the start of the race wasn't even near. I would have to wait until 8:22... for the last age grouper wave, to begin my race.
I had an hour and a half of waiting ...
... and a lot more long lines for the port-a-pot [I think I got up to 10 before I even started my race].
When I checked the water temperature 2 weeks prior, the water was too warm to be wetsuit legal... and with high 90's in the forecast I thought I was safe by saving $35 dollars and not rent a wetsuit.
... Little did I know that the week prior to the race, the temperatures would drop, and in turn, cool the water enough to make the race wetsuit legal by just a couple of . xx degrees.
What I should have done was rent one anyway... just in case... but I didn't. So here I was, with a slight disadvantage, because everyone else had theirs.
... My swim was going to be slightly slower..
This was also going to be my first non-lake open water... Salt water, waves...
.... My swim was going to be even more slightly slower...
There was a sea of floating red in the water. That was us. We were the red caps, and it was finally time to start. As we waited what seemed to be another hour and a half [although in reality is was just a few minutes], my already high anxiety rose as I couldn't even see the first buoy. But it was time to go... I figured I would eventually see it.
From the start of the swim, I felt behind.
I really wish I had a wetsuit right now....
My dominant side in swimming is my left side. That is the side I typically breathe on, which in my previous 2 races had been in my favor since the courses were counter clockwise and the buoy's were placed on the left.
... this was not the case for this race.
And although I have the ability to breathe on my right side, my nerves and anxiety didn't allow me to comfortably swim while breathing on the right so "to the left to the left..." it was.
You could tell when a boat went by because you would find yourself floating on a wave as it passed under you. The current was also stronger then what I was used to.
A positive was that I didn't find myself next to, what I like to call, "the kicker".
In the Columbia Triathlon I found myself next to a girl with a similar pace on my left... which wouldn't have been so bad if she wasn't an over-kicker. Someone who kicks way too much and way too hard, splashing the water up and right into my face when I would come up to breathe. She drowned me. It was miserable. I would slow down and pass her on the other side... but every couple of minutes, there she was. Kicking away ... right in my face.
At least I didn't get stuck with that.
But .... I felt slow... and I felt last ...
Finally, I saw the Swim Finish.
I saw the buoys that lead you up to the inflated red underpass that said "Swim Finish" and finally I was there... except it seemed like land wasn't approaching.
It literally felt like I was swimming in place... or perhaps, even swimming backwards.
As I ran up, I glanced at my watch... I did a double take and shook my head. 9:07. I expected to be out of the water by 9:00 and that wasn't the case. [insert the start of disappointment here].
.... Also inserted here is my swim finish video. The first time you watch, please feel free to notice my double take and my head shake. [I'm the third person at :08] On the second watch... feel free to notice the girl behind me as we exit the water. At least that wasn't me...
As I ran into the transition area, I noticed all of the bikes were gone... everyone else was out there...
When it comes to my bike transition, I get nervous. It happened at Columbia and it happened here. When I go to clip into my bike, I see people I know watching me.. cheering me on... and my nerves get the best of me. I worry too much about falling, that my ability to clip in - is gone, and it takes me forever. Embarrassed and stressed... I eventually got moving.
The first half of the bike was really quite enjoyable, but once I hit the 30 mile mark, that feeling turned. There are a few things that played with me mentally and it was this point in the ride that I think it really started to get to me.
I knew this ride, I rode it before. I had an idea of what to expect and when ... but I also knew when you would start to see people heading back, and I didn't.
I was one of the last people to start the race... and I wasn't one of the faster ones. I wasn't even a middle of the packer for this race. When you get up in distance, you race with the more experienced... and that just isn't me... not yet.
I only passed a hand full of people, and aside from those people - that is all I saw. It was just me and the bike. I knew I was one of the last people on the bike course, and I certainly felt that - and it was hard to mentally deal with. It is easier when you see people around you.. and I didn't.
It was lonely.
And i'm not sure if it was the wind, if my legs were tired, if I hit a mental wall... or perhaps all three... but for a while it was hard to get moving. I felt defeated. I couldn't get my speed up despite how much I wanted to.
I also felt the temperature climbing. Apparently my sunscreen application wasn't top notch, and I was starting to feel its effect. That was another downside of being in the last wave ... getting the short end of the stick when it came to weather. Whereas the professionals were cruising into the finish while it was still morning hours... and slightly cooler, I was still on the bike course. The day was approaching its hottest point... which would be here just in time for the run.
I started to pass the runners, and knowing the course - I knew the end of the bike was near which certainly lifted my spirits. I picked up my speed at the end to finish the bike in 03:26... only 11 minutes slower then what I wanted. That included a gatorade stop... and yes, you guessed it ... a bathroom break. I decided to save the peeing on the bike for the full ironman in September.
As I ran into the transition with my bike, I felt the heat. I no longer had the breeze from the bike to disguise just how hot it had become.
And for the first time, in all seriousness, I doubted my ability to finish. What was going through my mind at this point was how much disappointment I would feel as I turned in my chip to call it quits... because at this point, in this heat, I did not see how I would be able to run 13.1 miles. Truly.
I would try until I couldn't go any more.. but I honestly did not think I would cross that finish line that day.
My mom being a volunteer was able to be in the transition area and met me at the area for a photo shoot. She told me how awesome I was doing... that I was around 4:15 with my time..
I'm not doing awesome. and I snapped at her [sorry mom]. But as she told me how awesome I was doing, I was holding back tears because I thought that was it for me that day.
Please just let me finish...
It seemed like everyone was on their way back to the finish line when I was just starting my run... which in reality - they were. The painful mind game of being one of the last on the course would continue to haunt me during the entire run.
There was one guy who I would play tag with for the first couple of miles... He commented on his way by me one time that he thought we would do that the whole way, and I told him that eventually he would get me. At one point I met up with him and I told him I was going to stick with him for a while since misery was better with company. We would run for a while, and walk for a while - but his rhythm just wasn't working for me. Eventually I told him to go, and he wished me a good race thinking he wouldn't see me again...
In the back of my mind I knew I would get him eventually.
For miles 4-10 of this course you are on a straight, no shade, horrendously long and boring road with only telephone posts to keep you company. But it was on this road that I managed to get a rhythm that worked for me. I would pick out a pole in the distance to run to, and walk to the next. By doing this, I managed to pick up my average mile time - and I wished I had just done this from the start of the run. Instead of thinking "how the hell am I going to run 13.1 miles", I should have just made myself several small goals. Lesson learned.
As I ran, I passed people lying on the side of the road. The heat was taking its toll on people... even 4 professionals dropped out.
I didn't push myself to my limit, because I didn't want to be the next person someone would pass laying on the shoulder.
My nutrition had started to fail towards the end of the bike, because hot GU and salty foods just doesn't seem appealing when you are that hot and your mouth is that dry, so I knew I had to be careful. So slow is how I took it. Phone post by phone post.
At the turnaround point, there were snowballs. This was the best thing all day and exactly what I needed. This took quite a bit of time because I walked while I ate the entire thing. Had I not done this, I would have shaved minutes off my time, but that silly snowball brought me happiness.
And with that happiness brought excitement and energy. I was excited to embrace the suck again, and you could see it in my split time. The second half of my run was much faster then my first half.
Then there he was... THAT guy. You know, the one that wished me a good race thinking he wouldn't be seeing me again.
Yup... I chicked him.
I passed him, and I never saw him again.
... then I chicked another guy.
... It is the little achievements that kept me going.
There wasn't much else... There was no one else on the run course, people who had long finished were driving by honking their horn... You even heard the rest stops talking about the last runner.
I wondered if there would even be people at the finish line....
One amazing thing about this race though, is the location. The town of Cambridge is so supportive in every way, and miles 1 -3 and 10 - 13 go through its neighborhoods. People have large parties and just sit out front to cheer you on. They have hoses and loud music, they were - simply put - amazing.
... They also were drinking beer, which more times then not, I was tempted to steal right out of their cooler.
Needless to say, I was happy to see they were still there when I was on my way back.
For the last 2 miles I was step in step with another girl in my age group. I was determined to beat her.
I did.
My goal of 6:30 was long gone, so I wanted under 7:00 ... which I ended up missing by 2 minutes. My time was 7:02. I was more ashamed then proud and it was hard for me to celebrate in the end because of those 2 minutes... 2 effing minutes...
Instead of thinking, "wow I just finished 70.3 miles..in 98 degrees... after only 6 months of training", I thought:
If only I didn't take a long water break in the run transition.
If only I didn't struggle to clip in.
If only I pushed myself harder on the run.
If only I didn't walk during that snow cone.
When I say some things are harder then I ever imaged... this was one of them... That I couldn't even give myself credit for finishing a half ironman. I know people are frustrated when they hear this.. when I am so down on myself over the result of my race.
I know this, and I am sorry.
But I always said I would always be honest.
I'm trying to be better.
I realize that I have a ways to go until September... and it doesn't help that I have fallen victim to emotional eating and a hurt calf recently. But I can only try to do better tomorrow.
It is hard for me to believe that my next race is THE race. But I'm glad I don't have any races until then... that way I can focus on my workouts and my necessary weekend brick workouts [which fell off the mark when my weekends were filled with traveling and races]
But with it being so close, my excitement is coming back. It seems more real now... perhaps too real. I need my drive to come back now.
...I need to get my butt in some serious motion
...... and I need to get my diet back in check
[as well as my blogging!]
90 days and counting.....
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