IMUSA - Race Report - The Run

While for both IMs I haven't been able to find volunteers for T1s - I've been lucky enough to have amazing ones for T2s.

We started going through my bag - and I tried to just settle down and prepare for the run. Taking the bike shoe off my left foot was painful. I peeled off my sock and saw it - a very swollen and black toe.

I wasn't exactly stable before noticing this - and hearing the volunteer recommend I go to the medical tent made the tears that I'd been fighting, start to stream down my face. I remembered how Ironboy JW had finished an IM with a broken toe - and how crazy I thought that was.

Knowing that running is my weakest sport, I doubted my ability to complete a marathon with a broken toe - in addition to the weird hydration/nutrition issues that were going on. Having broken toes in the past, I knew there was nothing the medical tent could do. I tried to be grateful for not having broken a big toe. So I changed clothes and tied my sneakers, figuring I'd come this far and was going to continue for as long as I could.

Through the majority of T2, TRIgirl CD was in the tent with me. Even after a tough and painful bike, she was chipper and upbeat though she knew she'd be taking the run easy and walking most of it due to a much more serious injury than a broken toe. We hugged before she headed out - with me following soon after.

I was still a mess for awhile. I stopped at the porto-potty at the first aid station - hmmm, still nothing going on. I tried walking with TRIgirl CD but soon realized her walking pace was faster than I could handle. So I experiemented with run/walk combinations that might work. Early on, I ran into TRIgirl KB (finishing her first loop!) - who convinced me to take a Tylenol.

And after that, surprisingly, things fell into place for the rest of my race. I could jog the downhills and the flats - and walk the uphills to keep my toe from having to deal with the extra bend. While my nutrition was messed up - I forgot to even Gu for the first 4 miles - I took in whatever appealed to me at each aid station. Most of the time that consisted of water, cola and oranges. The sweat continued to pour out of me, even when the temperature cooled off as the sun began to set. I saw many fellow Richmond racers. When the timing worked out, I could spend a few minutes trekking along with some of them - TRIgirls KO, SK, CD, and Coach MB, Others, I'd see in passing during the loops - TRIgirls KB, AM, LM, SS, the Barricudas, Coach BB and TRIboy MR, Some I never saw - like the super speedy boys TVR, MC, AS and GM.

The Richmond cheerleaders had spread themselves across the miles in town. My husband, mom, dad, brother, sister-in-law and house neighbors were at the out and back of the end of each loop - so I was able to see, high five and hug them twice before starting loop two. I can't remember exactly who said what - but remember feeling supported and encouraged. Seeing Ironwoman Canada and the Real Deal on the stretch through town was motivating, too.

The second loop was more of the same, with the addition of some chicken broth. A few times I started to feel light headed - probably from being low on calories - and I tried to take in something at the next aid station to help me get through. I'd given up on Gus, though, so the calories were limited to oranges, gatorade and cola.

During the last six miles, I was relieved and happy that finishing seemed to be possible and I started to relax and smile more. Ironwoman Canada and the Real Deal were waiting on one of the tough climbs back into town - they helped me powerwalk up the hill. Hearing Ironwoman Canada tell me how proud she was of me - and that I was much tougher than she realized (also mentioning that she would remember this for future workouts) gave me the last shot of adrenlin I needed to try to follow her directions to walk the uphill, but push the downhill into the Olympic oval. My husband, family and housemates were once again on the out and back. They are the best sherpas ever.

I swear the last two miles felt like four, but finally I was entering the Olympic oval. The course only really included about half of it, but it was an amazing feeling to be on grounds that have seen some of the best athletes in the world.

I finally crossed the finish line. At 15:03:12.

My husband and family soon found me - and gave all kinds of sweet and wonderful congratulations. They made feel like a winner vs. a backpacker.

I watched some of the Richmond crew finish, squeezed in a massage and headed back home (and finally peed around 11:30). Sitting around our kitchen table, I caught up with the Barricudas and both our sherpa crews, icing my toe.

One of the longest and hardest triathlon days I'd ever experienced was done.

IMUSA - Race Report - The Bike

I found a wetsuit stripper quickly - and did a much better job peeling it off than previous races. The run to the women's tent was fairly long, but gave me time to hear the cheers of sherpa friends and family.

The tent was packed - and I roamed around just trying to find an empty chair, resigning myself to the fact that no volunteers would be available to help me. I tried to change quickly, asking other racers to help pull down my sports bra and shirt (next time I will try TRIgirl CD's suggestion of stepping into them!). My transition time was pretty slow - 11:25.

My bike was in a convenient location to the tent exit - and I was practically at it when a volunteer pulled it off the rack. I jogged it to the start. There was a slight downhill with a u-turn right after the mount line - and I could sense people behind me crazed to jump on their bikes, so I walked it out of way.

Once on my bike, I noticed the weather. A hazy sun was peeking through and it was quite humid. After riding past the haystack turn and through town, I drank some water and Carbo pro - and took two slightly dissolved salt tablets, hoping to ward off any more calf cramps.

Thanks to many practice training rides and drives, I knew the course well. Soon I was on the rude first climb. Remembering to take the first loop easy, I focused on spinning up the hill in an easy gear. Most of the people with me seemed to have heard that advice too, as I only saw a few people slamming the hill. After about 5-6 miles, I was at my favorite part of the course, the newly paved rolling downhills leading to the descent. I flew along this stretch, trying to psych myself for the downhill. Seeing the first "truck low gear" sign, I knew the steep downhill to Keene was starting.

I was really relieved that most bikers seemed to be considerate. I passed many racers - and was also passed by many. Feeling more confident, I took advantage of the "free speed" hitting over 42 miles per hour several times.

The left turn after the descent started my second favorite part of the course, the mostly flat roads to Upper Jay. I spun as fast as I could, feeling good about some more fairly free speed. TRIgirl AM passed me, telling me about the flat she got, losing a half hour as she carried her bike to an aid station. She is one tough and fast girl!

So far, my nutrition was going OK. I was drinking, eating some of a sports bar and jelly beans. No cramps - which was a relief.

Occasionally, I'd notice that the toe from the swim incident was hurting, but the hard soles of my bike shoes seemed to protect it.

Unfortunately, the flat stretch did not last as long as I would have liked. Making the turn toward Wilmington, once again, I geared down low and focused on my "la de da" spinning. At one point, I felt a push on my back, and wondered if I was hallucinating SuperAnnn and JenBo from Richmond, but it was TRIgirl SK, rocking the hills after a tough year of injuries. The Haselton turn around seemed to pop up fairly quickly - probably my third favorite section of the course. I saw many familiar faces cruising along on the out and back, enjoying the rolling hills and shady roads.

After Haselton came the 16ish miles of mostly uphill. My legs felt pretty good on the climbs and I continued spinning. But I did start really feeling the humidity - and was sweating profusely. I began drinking more - so much so that I did my first "grab and go" at the next few aid stations for more water. (I even filled my bottles on my bike).

I thought about breaking another barrier - peeing on my bike. But I didn't have to go. So I drank more and more, finishing the loop - and seeing Skirtboy and his friends on the last little uphill back into town.

My fabulous husband, family, hometown sherpas and Ironwoman Canada were perched right near special needs station. I pulled over waving to everyone between giving the volunteer a run for his money with my indecisive back and forth with my special needs bag. Deciding on a new Carbo pro bottle, small Snickers and half a sandwich, I clipped in to start the second loop.

If only my bike could have ended here...

Hot and thirsty, I forced the PBJ down - and drank more and more liquids. Passing an aid station, I figured I must need to go to the bathroom - though - nothing. Back on my bike, I started to wonder what was going on. I took two more salt tablets and drank some more. My stomach was starting to feel sloshy and bloated, but I was still sweating like a pig.

Hitting the descent the second time, there was a slight headwind, I hit over 40 mph a few times near the beginning, but it wasn't as easy. About halfway down, I saw volunteers standing in the middle of the road. Then I noticed the racer they were redirecting traffic around. He or she did not look good - and it sobered up most of the riders I was with, as we all seemed to finish the downhill a little more conservatively.

I was still feeling pretty good on the flat stretch . I ran into TRIgirls SK and CD and found out they had not only seen the fallen racer, but, in their awesomeness, had also stopped to help him. TRIgirl SK is a nurse - and the injured racer fell right in front of her.

Starting the climbs again, I really started to feel worse and worse. My legs were fine - taking the first loop easy had worked in that department. But my stomach felt woozy. I was constantly thirsty, grabbing water at every aid station, yet still no sign of needing to go to the bathroom. I hadn't taken any more salt tablets, thinking there was too much sodium in my system. I felt like if I ate anything, I would spew. The only things I could get down were SuperAnnn's magic Swedish fish and the Snickers.

My feet were going numb, especially the left one with the hurt toe. When I tried to squeeze my left toes, I would feel a sharp stab of pain. The realization I may have broken it started to sink in.
During the last ten miles, I couldn't wait to get off my bike.

Finally, after a long 7:35 on the dot (which was within the wide range I predicted, so time wise I was OK), I pulled up to the mount line, climbed over my bike and landed on feet stinging with numbness and pain.

I waddled into the transition tent, feeling the worst ever before starting a run.

And this one - was 26.2 hilly miles.

IMUSA - Race Report - The Swim

After over a week of highs and lows, I’m starting to feel focused enough to pull together a race report for IMUSA.

It was a long and tough and - sometimes - amazing - day.

After a few hours of sleep, the Barricudas and I lumbered about in the kitchen, trying to eat. I managed to swallow down a PBJ, half a banana and juice. Carrying a water bottle (which I would later wonder if should have been a Gatorade) and with the hubby and my Dad sherpa-ing my bike and special needs bags, we made our way down to bodymarking. In my delirious stupor, I told the volunteer the wrong age for my calf. My husband quickly noticed, though I figured it didn’t matter since the number was still in the same age group.

Barracuda BN headed off to find his place near the start of the swim, as Barracuda BL and I ran into a few of our Richmond crew for final hugs and encouraging words.

Soon we were in the water- acclimating – and waiting. I tried to position myself in the middle of the middle of the pack. Which should have created a cushion since the super fast swimmers were huddled under the start and more cautious folks were gathered on shore. The canon sounded, and within seconds that cushion was a memory. I remembered the craziness from IMFL and tried to go with it. Before the second buoy, my foot and someone’s something banged together – and a toe started to feel funny. I figured it was stubbed – and plugged on through the maniacs fighting to sight off the cable.

Meanwhile, a downpour hit Mirror Lake. Several times, I was caught behind a wall of men stubbornly trying to plow through me to reach the cable. I did not care about the cable – but I was gradually being pushed onto it. I was amazed that these men would repeatedly hit me – though the water was clear and calm. “Hello – if you are swimming at my pace – you are not going to win – and maybe you should adjust your stroke after slamming my head four times in a row.” The first loop was a struggle and most of the time, I would concede to the aggressive swimmers. My calves cramped up several times. No idea why – as this had never happened to me during a race. But I’d move forward swimming with my foot contracted waiting for them to subside.

The whole first loop was crazy. Exiting onto the beach, I looked for something to drink, thinking Gatorade might help with the cramping, but didn’t see an aid station.

Back in the water, I purposefully tried to move further out from the cable. The crowd had lessened, but I still found myself being pushed onto the cable. I did finally find a pair of steady, consistent feet (not as good as the Real Deal's, but would do) and drafted for awhile, relaxing a bit and finally enjoying the swim.

Rounding the last turn, I ended up behind a man swimming with his feet crossed.

Which is a super hard drill Ironwoman Canada makes us try.

This guy, though, was doing an amazing job – his feet never dropped or moved. I wondered if he was a paraplegic – and felt inspired by the possibility I was witnessing a human interest story about an individual overcoming incredible challenges to complete an Ironman.

The racers jammed up again toward the end of the swim. I was relieved to climb out of the water – and see my swim time of 1:20:32.