I’m sitting in the Ironman Live Media room a couple days before the big race to answer some questions that the Ironman Live crew and triathlon legend Michellie Jones put together. To be honest, my unexpected late morning start and poor navigation skills had put my mental state on edge. My morning tune-up workout didn’t happen and I still had to get a lot done before all the scheduled meetings. This was the first race I’ve ever done alone without a “Sherpa” a.k.a Mr. Ben Metcalfe or another racer along for the journey. My mind was on defensive mode from the mass amounts of expo people and the 4 AM traveling to get to Florida. Plus, the time difference had me groggy making my eyes water in front of the bright lights and the sweating from running around in a mad dash at the 10:45 AM interview time. I was rather uncomfortable.
This trip was a lot of preparing as I went or tuning to the most immediate thing that needed to be done, ugh, yes, slight procrastination on my part. Most races I get my pre-race needs done ahead of time. Not so much this time. Then Kevin Mackinnon tells me before the race “Hey, your grandma emailed me the other day.” Most people would be extremely curious to find out what type of embarrassing thing they could’ve said, but nope, I have the raddest grandma who knows all the splits and info about all the other pros. So it actually relaxed me and reminded me of all the loved ones at home who were supporting me. It also reminded me of how special this race was going to be.
We’re rolling through the questions and Michielle says, “You have a solid bike but the run isn’t your strongest. How are you going to prepare for it?” This threw me off. I guess I’ve called myself a runner most of my life. It was my identity, my life, my friends, how I learned, it was my way of giving life meaning before triathlon. The question brought up doubts in my mind. “What if I can’t run as fast, what’s going to happen in an Ironman marathon after having a bolt screwed into my sit bones with my hamstring re-attached to it?!” But I controlled my anxious thoughts and reminded myself of the peak-volume workouts, the long runs, and what I’ve been able to push through. I responded back saying “I know I don’t have the 70.3 speed of the faster runners, but the longer the run, the better I can cruise.” And that’s exactly how I acquired success from this race. Becoming a runner... again.
Not too long later I’m off to go warm up in the crystal blue water and couldn’t help enjoying the sensation of the smooth white sand on my feet along the way. The gun went off and the "sprint" start of an Ironman swim began... it is more my type of swim start. I was with a pack and feeling smooth in the water. I recently went a size down in my TYR hurricane and couldn’t help falling in love with how it fit more perfectly and felt exactly like a second skin. I was gliding through the water almost effortlessly. I saw various jellyfish and stingrays below me. A couple jellyfish were closer to the surface so some funky sideways hand pulls were required to avoid any unwanted contact. The water was warm and getting warmer...
I was coming up on rounding my first lap- 28:20 at the halfway mark- holy smokes I was right on goal pace and it felt great! Back into the water I went for lap 2. Uh oh- I wasn’t surrounded by Sofie Goos and Heidi Jesberger anymore. The goal was to try to catch back up to some others and maintain pace. The current started to become stronger and I wasn’t as protected by the 2 other girls anymore. I had to start relying on my own navigation (which was better than pre-race) as the different swimmers I caught up to started to zigzag and nowhere in sight were swim caps straight ahead to give some immediate pointers. I glanced down at my Garmin it was getting close to 1 hour, it was going to be close… could I make it under? I also really enjoying how clear the water was so that I could actually see below to my watch! My decision to remain more comfortable on the swim instead of pushing it a little harder to swim a 57 seemed smart at the time. But in the aftermath, I just want that sub 1-hour swim dang it! I exited 4th female pro out of the water in 1:00:19. Now it was time to ride.
The bike was going to be flat and fast. Or so I thought. My training and preparation gave all the signs of a 4:50ish bike split, especially on this course. Starting out along Front Beach Road was w-i-n-d-y. I generally work best by starting out at a faster than race pace effort that I don’t like too much to warm up and then settle into my groove. But it just wasn’t happening! “It’s OK” I thought- “I’ve got 112 miles”… or it might be that time difference thing that doesn’t want me to ride right now...
Ten miles in Jessica Jacobs passes me. Instantly I thought, “just wait, I’ll catch up.” I’m easing into it and I don’t want to blow up. I’m not too much of a complainer during training and in fact, I really don’t mind wind. Ask Rachelle about a ride in Tucson where I went directly into a headwind for 50+ miles going 15-17 mph. But the wind was getting to me and the time trial groove wasn’t happening on this flat course, which is exactly what you need to be successful. I continued to pound away at the pedals. I was shooting for a higher cadence but was forced to use the bigger gears to go faster. My quads started cramping and burning early into the bike around mile 40. Yes, it’s supposed to hurt when you’re riding but they were acting weird, just refusing to put out the power despite a lower physiologic effort. I needed to spin more, but I wanted to go faster. I then discovered one of my current race limiters (not during but in hindsight of the race)- since my hamstrings are weaker, I rely more on my quads than I used to. It was a trade off between speed and cadence that I couldn’t get just right for some reason during the race but I now understand. On my new bike, I think I’ll be dialed in just right. I’m glad I found this out to continue to move forward into the 2012 season.
It was headwind all the way up until the special needs. The roads so far were amazing to ride on as far as smooth and flat…up until the special needs. Cracks a.k.a. bike item and bottle launching/body shooters. I grabbed my special needs only to realize that the gel inside had completely exploded all onto my hand and I mean ALL of it. The good thing was it forced me to be in TT position as my hand got super-sugar-glued to the bars for the remainder of the race but it sure made shifting gears and shifting positions rather hard. It made me jerk my bike to the right every time my hand needed to be removed from the bars. It would’ve been the most ideal aide-station water bottle hand snatcher except for the fact that I needed the fingers to bend. I played aide-station dominoes a lot instead.
These annoyances kept happening, deferring my focus from my effort and race. They created frustrations and negative thoughts. But I was smart enough to reel myself in and remember that it’s a long race and it isn’t over until the marathon is done.
The return stretch back down highway 79 into town finally provided relief from the headwind. My mph average was starting to go up, despite backing off the power. My quads, however, were giving me doubts. I had been drinking and eating enough so I wasn’t dehydrated. I thought about Ironman Arizona coming up in a few weeks and how I could just end it after the bike here and have a better race there. Again, I reeled my stupid thoughts back in. Like I ever give up?!- I don’t. Let’s just see what we’ve got for the run and save some during the rest of the ride. I still clocked in 5:00:05- what is up with me ALMOST breaking those hour marks?!
Stay tuned for part 2 where all the good fun stuff happens with some marriage proposals, getting whipped in the butt all during 26.2 miles and most importantly, how I became a runner again.
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