A Brash Decision
In early July, I came home from Trans Alp. My partner Jen and I had ridden our brains out for 7 days in the Alps, after 6 months of great training. We shared an amazing adventure, but racing turned into survival after a case of Giardia. The buzz of riding in the Alps was wearing off, and I needed my next fix. Enter Facebook. My friends Alanna and Laura had just finished IM CDA, and in a brash moment decided to chase that race with IM Whistler. They had been frustrated with 42 degrees in Coeur D'Alene, and wanted one more crack at it. With three weeks until race day, I wanted in on that adventure. I called our friends in Whistler hoping to crash at their place, and Kristian and Charlotte had a good laugh at my plan. Well, as it happens Kristian is a coach. A good one. And he's friends with my husband. They talked, and I received an intervention...aka no, don't do it. Apparently cycling in the Alps is not ideal training for an Ironman. Three days later I was registered for IM Wisconsin with an 8 week timeline...much more reasonable, but still exciting.
Bubbling confidence
I got on my tri bike, and the aero position felt strong almost immediately. My bike is incredibly light, electronic shifting at my finger tips, new snug drinking system, and I felt invincible on the bike. I shifted my training to consistency over distance.
Andrew and started running in the trails, and although it was a mix of walk and jog, we both felt fantastic, gradually going longer and longer.
I always talk about that swim with a wry smile. At my best, I swim with the goal of getting out of the water with some juice left in the tank for the rest of the race. With 8 weeks to prep, that's all I did...got in the water 4 days a week, and ensured that I did the full distance at least once a week. My confidence in the water was where it should be...cautiously optimistic.
Misgivings and doubts
What's an Ironman without sickening doubt a few weeks out? Andrew and I decided to get on the road, and make the legs absorb the tarmac for the last long run. Sounds genius right? Except that it was our only long run...and our only run on tarmac...and we let the pace escalate as we confidently chatted about the race. Until we weren't. Then we walked, and I might have groaned and sobbed a bit, very sore, but also very scared that a marathon is no joke, and deserved more respect than I gave it. We went down to the coast for family time on the Island, and the doubts escalated. My knee was zinging at a walk, I felt disconnected from the training, and wasn't quite sure how the wine and pizza were going to help me come race day.
Smooth and Strong
Home again to take Madeline to school for her first day and set her up with Nana, I swam twice in the lake...relieved that I remembered how. Setting off to meet Andrew in Madison as he flew out of Vancouver, I had both bike boxes. I didn't sleep a wink, so nervous that I'd have trouble getting both our bikes there. It was smooth as butter. No issue on any flight, or with immigration. I had time to reflect on a conversation I had with Kara, who has known me since this IM passion began. I flipped through a book she made for me a decade ago, with input from Vernon tri friends. It was inspiration to give my best effort at IM Western Australia, with an 8 month old in tow. I had written out every preparation including my doubts, leading up to the strongest IM I've done. Granted I am a decade older, but knowing that I wasn't dealing with a teething, jet lagged, hungry baby in the night, gave me a wee boost. I finished that conversation with Kara full of love and confidence again. I replaced my doubts with the mantra "smooth and strong" and set out to have one hell of a date with my husband in Madison.
Race Day
Smooth as Butter. I had the smoothest, simplest, most pleasant Ironman day I've ever had. Maybe it has a soft glow now that it's all over, but that's how I remember it. Breakfast went down easily. We had a short walk to the start from our hotel. Body marking was quick. There was a short line at the portapotty. I got into the lake easily, and could see Andrew floating in front of me waiting for the gun. It was just so darn smooth.
For the swim I dreamed of 1:10, expected 1:12, but prepared for 1:20, so that I wouldn't freak out if I saw a slower time than expected. The swim was fine...but lengthy. I wish I had worn a GPS, as I saw every buoy from every angle. The sun was low, and I was in the midst of 2600 people, and couldn't sight the buoys for the life of me. I was 1:16. Whatever. What's 5 minutes.
This was first event where I had no trouble in verbalizing my real goal. I wanted to SMASH the ride. I wanted to ride out of my skin, and just live with the consequences on the run. The start of the IMWI ride has no flow, especially if you exit the water with the maximum flow of swimmers. There is a series of bike paths and underpasses to get out of town, and I was itching to leave the 'no pass zone'. It wasn't long until I got to light it up, and ride my heart out. I tracked down 672 riders, 190 of those being women. Given that I'd trained to climb in standing in the Alps, I followed Andrew's suggestion. I stood on every hill, and recovered on every descent. As expected, the Madison spectators didn't disappoint. I saw the Devil, the Creepy Clown, the Undertaker, the Angels, the 20 year old boys in banana hammocks, the rude signs, then kids cheering on Daddy. I revelled in the man beating his drum to my cadence up the hill, and the women screaming my virtues over the crest of the hill. When else does a middle-aged woman, taking part in an amateur sporting event have fans? I felt grateful, and joyful, and supported to give it my all. I drank the eLoad that was on my bike, then water for the rest of the day. I ate a bar in the first half, a Red Bull at 90km, and gels every 20-30 minutes for the home stretch. Again, smooth as butter. My back was aching from being in aero at intensity, my hamstring was getting very loud by the last 30km, but my stomach felt great, and my energy was high. I checked my watch, did the math, and knew I could be under 5:40 if I stayed focussed in that last few km where people are beginning to coast, slow down, and prep for the run. I was stoked to finish is 5:38, good for 3rd fastest female, and scoot me from 205th woman in the swim to 15th woman off the bike. I didn't know that of course, but was stoked to know that I rode my brains out for 180km and loved it.
I love the run course in Madison. Picture 15,000 college students with nothing to do on a Sunday but drink beer and cheer. The run weaves through town, does a lap of the famous football stadium, through the college campus, along the lake, and you do it all twice. The run was not magic for me, but I felt proud of keeping the wheels on. Within a km, I knew that I had no push off my toes. I was breathing steady, but knew that I needed to keep an easy steady rhythm to avoid cramping. I could see very early on that it was going to be just fine, if I kept it boring and steady. So that's what I did. The highlight was seeing Andrew on course twice. We stopped for our kiss, and I knew his day was not magic, but he was getting it done. As it turns out he finished first in his category, despite a crash and racing without his usual shine. Rock star. I had people on route giving me all kinds of conflicting information...I was 7th woman, no 12th, no 8th. I shut all that out, determined to keep my run 'boring', shooting Red Bull and water at virtually every aid station. There was no action until the last mile, when a 43 year old streak of lighting passed me. Thank goodness she did it quickly, because I truly didn't have it in me to challenge her, despite my Red Bull fuel. As it turns out, she passed me for first place in our category. I finished less than 2 minutes behind her, in second at 10 hours and 50 minutes. I was pretty darn stoked to have met my goals. Number one: to finish happy and healthy. Number two: to get a spot to Kona, and finish this 15 year IM adventure with wind in my hair and salt on my skin.
