Disclaimer: My day had a lot of incidents. Some possibly due to not enough training, the voices in my head, and some because God has a sense of humor. If you are still on your journey to IMCA then read at your own risk, but I do not want to be your mental out. "She DNF'd so it must be ok." I wholeheartedly believe that you, my friends, will finish.
Vineman. Vineman. The word used to spark shallow breathing and that tingly sensation in my chest. It made me anxious. I had weeks and I could keep it at bay, which slowly leaked into one week, then mere days. ZOMG. I spent a lot of time thinking about God. I grew up a very conservative Christian and currently I'm... spiritual? Jesus is my homeboy. So in times of anxiety, fear, sadness, etc I return to my old friend and we talk and I talk to other spiritual friends about Him. Helps me cope.
The day before my race I was flowing into periods of calm ,"peace that transcends understanding" (for you bible nerds), and gripping the edge of my sanity. Just breathing. My family arrived with an hour to spare before Inspiration Dinner so we all piled into my family's car and at my request we prayed. And after, in tears, I confessed to them that all I wanted was they, and everyone else, would still be proud of me if I didn't finish.
I knew there was a chance I wasn't going to finish. It was very difficult for me to believe I could do this at all. It's not the first time, I remember having the same issue before my first Olympic tri. I would just have to repeat to myself, "trust the coach's training, trust my coach's". I also tried not to beat myself up in the days leading to the race. Let's be honest, I didn't do all the mid-week workouts. I was approached by staff a couple weeks before we left for Vineman and given the option to switch to Barb's. This wasn't a shock. I wasn't insulted. I actually felt relief (anxiety is stressful) and seriously considered it. I spoke to my girls (love you all!), the wonderful people I had the pleasure of getting to know this season and Mari, my fearless mentor. With a sleepless night I decided even with the risk I would go for it. It wasn't about the medal, it was going head-first to finish what I started 9 months ago. This was my baby.
Race day
Gripping the edge of my sanity day. I don't laugh mornings of race day. Headphones on (Explosions in the Sky) I'm very internal. Doing everything I can to avoid a panic attack. Got off the trolley and ran off to the bathroom in the grocery store. Grabbed my bike, started walking to transition. Scatter brained and half way down the hill missed the special needs drop offs till a teammate mentioned they were back up the hill. Ran, drop off. Enter transition. Set up. Use porto-potty. Run in my flip flops for 5 minutes. Wetsuit on. Ninja coach giving me one last wetsuit pull, gotta give those shoulders as much flexibility as possible, then "wait did they yellow caps?" Ran to my wave and it started. Not a lot of time to think even though I got up at 3:30am and we got there pretty much when transition opened. Setting up T1 is like a time warp. It goes so freakin fast. 6:40am
Swim.
I think I gagged once before I got to the bridge. It pretty much went, 8 strokes, sight, 8 strokes, clear throat and spit. 8 strokes, sight, 8 strokes, stop to compose myself or gag. Yup, ladies and gentleman, that's how my swim went. It felt like forever. I had a moment where my shoulders were starting to get weary and I thought, "I wish I had a sleeveless wetsuit... well too fucking late now." I was surrounded by people of all cap colors my first lap. At the end of someone's stroke I got smacked in the face. Stopped to adjust my goggles and empty the water out. We're ok. But I also had the bad voice talking. "You're going to DNF the swim!" In which I replied "What the fuck are you talking about, I have 3 hours to finish this fucking thing." Looking back, maybe I lost my sanity because I was definitely talking to myself for a while.
At the 2nd lap turnaround I was having my gagging issues, which were mentally worse then because I could hear my coaches and my family cheering for me. Normally I love that sound. But the last thing I wanted them to see was me struggling, embarrassed.
But I did have my angels out there. At one point I stopped and there was coach Andie right in front of me. Oh hi! Then again, I popped up and there was mentor Mari. Well hello! At the final turnaround, which btw was farther than the house with the green wall that we swam to during training weekend, I looked around to see if there were anymore caps of my color out there. There's one! It's Dolly! Hallelujah maybe I'm not as far behind as I thought. With all the stopping, spitting, gagging, and flopping around I thought for sure I was just barely going to make the 2hr 20min maximum estimate my coaches originally gave me.
Triathlons are kind of built for me. The sport I like the least is first so once I'm out of the water I feel amazing. I am happy as a clam. Almost like a second chance at life. Birds chirping, blue sky, amazing. Swim till you touch rock, get up, listen to everyone cheer, and get the hell out of that wetsuit. The strippers were awesome! Sit down! Whoosh and you're out of your rubber suit.
Bike.
Now the fucking fun begins. Now I know what I'm doing. My bike is where the more interesting things of the day happened. It's funny how the sport I like the most is where I spend the most time and usually encounter the most pain and discomfort. Hurts so good. But it also has the highest rate of return in my mind.
Here's also where my miracle happened. I exit transition and hop on my bike and realize I'm surrounded by friends. Monica and Mari, you were my angels on the bike. See, I felt good at first. I kept it easy and loose to warm up, because when I hit it too hard I start to get tight and things begin to hurt. We were rocking. Then 20mi in my lower back/hip begins to hurt. Damn. Push through pain! Come on you don't have to save yourself for a future race, this is it! But it begins to be a constant pain that is reducing me to tears. I tell M&M what's going on and they stayed with me the whole first lap. I could see you guys glancing behind you, making sure I was still there. At special needs there's my lovely coach Andie again and I immediately fall apart and cry and exclaim that it hurts. She hugs me, tells me it's ok, and gives me ibuprofen. And by the miracle of God, Monica gives me her only pouch of Biofreeze. Monica, you saved my race. I don't think you realize it, but I had been praying for God to take the pain away. Then you gave me Biofreeze. It wasn't quite the way I envisioned but the only way I got through the 112mi was because of you. You were my miracle.
So my second lap of my ride consisted of passing other racers, stopping to put on Biofreeze, then passing them again over and over for 56mi.
Some other interesting incidences that happened out there was this torpedo of a bee or giant fly slams into my forehead and the stunned bug falls behind my sunglasses. Holy shit!!! I rip off my glasses with my eyes closed and when I reopen them I am this close to ending up in the ditch. I swerve and barely miss the ditch but run into the side of a bush and get scraped up. Let's just say the rest of the race I kept pushing my sunglasses as close to my face as possible after that.
During the 2nd lap I noticed my front wheel was making a rattling noise. I grew concerned and stopped to yank on it, make sure it wasn't flat, and just see what was wrong. I couldn't find anything and kept on movin on. Then while going downhill I realized...it was unlatched. OMG! If I had hit a bump and my wheel came off then that would have been the end of my race or my life.
An eventful 8 hours to say the least.
Run.
I am amazed on how good I felt once I started running. I've never ended a long ride and felt good into a run. This was unusual and fantastically awesome. The first lap I did my usual walk breaks and was slower than normal but feeling fine. Then Ninja coach informs me about the time. Huh? What? Time cutoff? Fuck. For a good chunk Bill (thank you Bill!!!) paced me and in a very calm voice would repeat "alright, we're going downhill, let's open up our stride, one more inch, use the gravity. ok, going up hill, stay on the front of our feet and push off..." etc. It kept me focused, it kept me calm, it kept me going. Then Brad took over and we ran. We ran for who knows how long. Every so often he'd ask me about my job, why I chose the music industry, etc. I guess to keep my mind off of my effort. Every so often he'd snort and cluck Angry Bird style. Then he'd throw in what pace we'd have to keep to make the cutoff. Cutoff cutoff cutoff. Then it was down to 5min and less than a mile...
My head raced. Less than a mile? How much less than a mile? We were getting closer to the neighborhood, would I make it? We were pushing it and had been for a while. I was getting to the end of my mental and physical rope. I was going to DNF. Then I decided, if I'm going to DNF then I want to do it still standing. I didn't want to push myself to failure. We began walking. We chatted. And then I jogged to the turnaround. I looked down the finish shoot and realized I wouldn't experience the feeling of sprinting down it with people cheering and hearing my name over the loud speaker. Not today. I walked up to the volunteers, they took my timing chip and it was over.
Mixed feelings. I was proud of how far I had come. I had about 9mi left. 131ish miles done in a day by my own power. With every obstacle I overcame that day I believed more and more that I could be an Ironman. But part of me wonders, why didn't I try harder to make it? Why didn't I sprint that last mile? Why didn't I want to do that last lap even after I DNF'd? Honestly part of me was relieved I didn't have to run those last 9. Why wasn't I as determined? Why didn't I want it bad enough? I don't have answers to my questions. But you know what I do have?
I believe I can do it now.
I believe I will do it next year.
Thank you to everyone who believed in me. To everyone who sent me cards and encouragement via Facebook. Thank you to my teammates in costume. Thank you to everyone who cheered for me on and off the course. Thank you to everyone who tracked me online. For every positive thought and prayer. Thank you to my coworkers for your cards, funny pictures, and flowers and decorations when I returned to work. Thank you to my family who was out there since 5am all the way to 11pm. Thank you to everyone who raced Vineman alongside me and did finish. You inspire me and I'm so proud of you. And thank you Brad for running alongside me and doing everything you could to get me there. I know how bad you wanted it for me too.
And from here, we have no where but up. I know what I can do and I want to do better. Faster. Stronger. And I will. I will continue my self improvement, mentally, physically, and spiritually. To raise funds for a cure. I will continue the mission, to do this for those who can't.
In memory of uncle Rich, for Ming. And in honor of my dear friend Audrey - you inspire me every time I see you.
Go Team.
