Lake Placid 70.3

WARNING: GRAPHIC PERSONAL DETAILS BELOW

I haven't written a race report since my Lake Placid Ironman last year and I didn't think I would write this one... but I decided I had to for therapeutic reasons. I need to record the facts so I can stop ripping myself to shreds for what could have been and eke out the victories that were there, despite my uncharacteristically negative headspace.

(EDIT: I just realized this is the first race I've ever done without caffeine!)

The weekend overall was chilly, with scattered showers (including a downpour I got caught in while heading to the Ironman Singles meetup). A large portion was spent debating what to wear to avoid hypothermia, especially during the 6 mile descent into Keene. After talking to a couple of the wonderful guys at High Peaks Bike shop and purchasing some gloves, I was convinced it wouldn't be that bad. I also was happy to finally check High Falls Gorge off my site-seeing bucket list with Ann and her mother (Her mom was such a trooper, having just come off foot surgery two months ago!) and it was great to catch up with Devon, Parker and Kelly, Keith, and others. The Adirondacks (especially the town of Lake Placid) are one of my favorite places to visit, but parking is scarce and every walk requires considerable climbing. I was happy I got the opportunity to climb into my Normatechs Friday night.

Ann and I did a race run-through Saturday morning with a 20 minute swim (water temp: 62 degrees F, air temp: 46!) in the rain, followed by a very dirty, wet, 30 minute bike ride and a great 10 minute run. Ann had an extra pair of arm warmers she let me borrow and they seemed to do their job well. (must add to shopping list!) We also discovered that it was, in fact, possible to take off a bathing suit and change into a sports bra while wet without flashing anyone, so the plan shifted from swimming in a sports bra, to doing a complete change in transition. At the athlete briefing, they spoke of warming tents at the swim exit, and a heated school bus and vans at the bottom of the Keene descent and encouraged us to stop and warm up if needed. The sun finally started to peek out when we dropped our bikes off, and I was starting to get excited!

I had been trying to carb load (carbloat) but was not as effective as I had been before the Lake Placid full IM last year. I really hate how it makes me feel; bloated, slow, and heavy. I need to prep everything in advance and have it portioned out and stay on schedule or it all goes downhill quickly. And not in the fun way. I ate lots of rice with dinner and hoped for the best.

Race morning began at 4:06am, as I awoke minutes before my alarm. I got out of bed, took care of some business, and headed downstairs. I had two scrambled eggs and oatmeal with almond milk, peanut butter, and a banana. I put the lower half of my full wetsuit on before we even left the house, hoping it would keep me warm. As Ann and I walked to transition in the 35 degree morning fog, we reflected how neither of us felt like we were racing that day. When I did War at the Shore in July, I sprung out of bed excited to get there. This morning, I joked that I needed to start the swim before my brain woke up and realized what was happening. The mountains were beautifully cloaked in fog as we meandered down the hill towards bodymarking. It was stunning.

When I got to bodymarking, I realized my mistake. Without Tri Tats, I still had to be marked. Which meant I had to take my wetsuit off and put it back on. Grumblegrumblegrumble. The volunteer was super helpful and patient, however, of which I was very appreciative. And then we were off to set up transition.

On my way to the swim start, I lost Ann but found Parker and Kelly. And Ann eventually found her way back to us.

THE SWIM:
The swim start took FOREVER.  By the time we got in the water, my feet were aching with cold and

Every Angle was an
obstacle...err... person

the air temp was 38 degrees. The fog was still present and the sky was overcast. I was glad that I had gotten in the previous Monday (thanks for being my swim buddy, Brian!) and Saturday (Thanks, Ann!) . I was also super stoked that the MC started playing Pitbull's Fireball right before we got in the water. Nothing like passing the time with a pre-race dance party! Especially since we waited about 45 minutes (me with bare feet) just to get to the timing mat. Getting in the water wasn't as bad as I had anticipated. I had put aquaphor on my face and hands and I guess the more often you swim in 60-something degree water temps, the less jarring it becomes. Plus, it was warmer than the air. I walked in like a boss and started swimming without hesitation. It really wasn't bad with the exception of the people who couldn't swim getting in my way. I found a momentary distraction when I noticed a rainbow peeking through the clouds. Kesha's Praying was caught in my head. I should have listened.
Final Swim Time: 48:08

T1:
When I came out of the water, I felt good. I skipped the wetsuit strippers because the idea of running with bare skin in 40 degrees while wet sounded like torture. I saw the warming tent and was torn... do I stop and warm my hands and feet before running to transition? I went inside... and then decided it was better to keep moving. My hands and feet were relatively warm and functional after swimming. Though the .4 mile run to transition felt good cardiovascularly, the ground felt so cold. They had laid out rugs for us to run on, but the rugs were soaked and cold. Once I reached the Olympic oval, the rugs ran out and the ground was freezing! By the time I reached my bike, my feet were completely numb and running felt awkward. I did a quick surf change, took off my wet bathing suit, and put on a dry sports bra, my tri kit, arm warmers, full gloves with handwarmers tucked inside (and an extra handwarmer in my top for insurance), and my thermal windbreaker and booties. I also opted for fluffier running socks instead of my swiftwicks. I had prepped a quart sized bag of rice balls the night before (calrose rice, chopped dates, peanut butter, and salt) and ate some before hopping on my bike. Saw Keith Lefkof in transition. And I was off!
T1 time: 16:43

THE BIKE:
Getting on the bike was COLD! I forgot that the first mile or so out of transition is downhill. I decided to take it easy during the first 5-10 miles to warm up, but my muscles felt really stiff from the cold. The mile out and back to Bobsled run was a steeper grade than I expected as well. I was relieved though when I realized I already had feeling back in my fingers before the descent into Keene. I knew that would be the worst of it when it came to the potential of hypothermia. I was a little disappointed when a police car on the course blocked my way towards the bottom (and finally in Smooth Pavement Land!) and caused me to brake, preventing me from reaching max speed, but I was happy to see that I still hit 41.6mph (I had a goal to break 40mph and a hope of breaking 45mph.). With the traffic that I usually encounter along that stretch during training, I find it difficult to exceed 40 and stay safe. I only saw one wipeout on the descent and he was walking, so I hope whoever was in the ambulance was ok.

When I got to the bottom of the descent, I ran into an unexpected surprise... I had planned to pop inside the warm bus for a bit and assess my hands and feet... but I didn't see a bus or vans anywhere. Not sure if I was race blind? Or if they just weren't there? Ann couldn't find them either. Still uncertain what happened there. I saw people cheering, state troopers, some folks with a table set up with hot coffee and the fixin's... but no heated bus. Oh well. Moving on. I also became aware that the crimson wave I was surfing was turning into a flood. At the first bike aide station I searched for coverage to no avail. Hoping for the best, I kept moving.

My new Selle SMP saddle seemed to already be considerably less painful than the torture device I was riding previously, but even on our test ride the day before, my muscles felt... different... worked in a way they hadn't been before. What are you going to do, though? I pressed forward. At least the sun was coming out. And as it came out, I could feel myself sweating profusely under my layers, but the wind was so cold, I didn't want to risk taking anything off.

I finally found tampons around mile 40. Men are so lucky they don't have to deal with that, and I couldn't help but think that not only has no man has ever completed a half-ironman bleeding profusely from start to finish, but if they DID, no one would ever hear the end of it. And yet, as women, we deal with this monthly and no one speaks of it at all, or they do in hushed tones and in code. A bit absurd if you ask me.

As I rode, I noticed a lack of enthusiasm that I usually only experience when my blood sugar is tanking... but my rice balls only seemed to mildly alleviate this. I was so grateful to bump into Devon heading towards Whiteface, on one of my favorite sections of the course. "It's YOU!" I heard as we passed each other. It was such a pleasant surprise! I promised she would catch me on the next climb which she did. I was also happy to notice that the feeling had finally come back into my feet. However, my knees were aching from all the climbing. I recollected how good I felt the previous Saturday when I rode 43 miles of the course and wondered if that was the best idea. Did I burn out my legs last week? Should I have taken taper a little more seriously?

Right before the Bears, I heard a chain drop and noticed a woman stop in front of me. I was just about to pass her and noticed her gazing at her bike looking quite overwhelmed. We had about 6 miles to go and I knew I had time. "Need some help?" She gratefully took my coaching as I talked her through how to put it back on. It only took a few minutes and I knew I wasn't breaking any records that day, so I was happy to help.

As I came back into town, I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between the crowds for this race and my full last year. Where thousands of people had been roaring, there were only scattered hundreds.
Final Bike Time: 4:19:46

T2:
I felt ok coming into transition. I was excited to start the run, despite feeling discouraged watching finishers coming down the shoot. I felt really undertrained for the bike and I was kicking my own ass. I ditched my windbreaker, gloves and booties, but kept the arm warmers as I felt easily chilled. I hadn't finished my rice so I brought it with me on the run. Also traded out my tampon again and hated being female. *grumpgrumpgrump*
T2 time: 8:04

THE RUN:
I felt pretty good at the start of this run. I was watching my form and people kept complimenting my pace and form. I bumped into a lot of folks I knew running back towards the finish line as I was heading out. I ran with Keith for a bit before, noting my time, I decided to head on without him. It was great to get an enthusiastic greeting from Ann, and Stacey accused me of bringing the Sunshine which made me smile. I saw Paulo (looking strong!) as well. Around mile 4, though, my enthusiasm abandoned me. My body wasn't hurting as much as my spirit was. I tried making friends on the course, but my heart wasn't in it. My serratus anterior started cramping. I took some base salt. But when my bladder started burning, I was DONE. I drank at every aid station, mostly water, trying to get my bladder back online. At mile 4.5, I told myself I was only 2 miles from the turnaround (not realizing it was actually closer) and decided I could force myself to run at least that far. I made a few friends who dragged me forward (one was from Red Bank!) but I sent Red Bank on without me when my colon decided to join my bladder's protests. I finally stopped in a portapotty around mile 9. I sat there, sorting out my life in that moment. I could bail on this race, or I could rally. I did some NET during my time out, using the FAST technique, and finally came out ready to see what I could salvage. I had 4 miles left and as I looked at my watch, I realized that if I didn't run, I wouldn't make the cutoff. I could DO this. So I told my bladder to STFU and I started to run. And I started to pass people. And folks started to tell me I was looking strong again. I wanted to stop so badly... and I did for moments. But only for moments. And I pushed forward. Those last couple miles were hell. But I steeled myself, locked my gaze on the horizon, and channeled my inner honey badger.

As I was coming down the shoot, I saw Parker, Kelly, and Ann going berserk cheering, and my heart was so happy to know that they were sending all that love my way.

And when I crossed the finish line, I heard the announcer say, "Jenn, you're going to be very happy with your time." And I knew I had made it.
Final Run Time: 2:56:17

POST RACE PERSPECTIVE:
There were some things that were missing for this race. First of all, I never want to race during a crimson tidal wave EVER AGAIN. Second, it will be quite some time before I go coachless for a season again. I felt so

underprepared. And third, I still have a ton of work to do when it comes to my nutrition. I hate to be regimented, but I have to the three days leading up to my race. I also need to find liquid nutrition that lacks cane sugar, corn, barley, and sugar alcohols.

Finally, something that was overwhelmingly lacking during this race was gratitude. I was not as PRESENT as I have been in the past. I was not as mindful. I spent other races praying for others, talking to God, and focusing on how lucky I was to be there. This one... not so much. And as a result, my experience held an uncomfortable emptiness. I think it's time to commit to some quiet time and get back in touch with my soul again, because that lesson, like many that come from racing, doesn't just apply to triathlon - it applies to LIFE.

Till next time!
Total Time: 8:28:56

Ironman Lake Placid

Before I begin, I feel like I need to explain something... I say I signed up for IMLP due to peer pressure, but it was really because I HATED hills.

Oh, sure. Take me to the hospital.
But first, lemmetakeaselfie.

Climbing them, cruising down them... after crashing down a hill on a group ride a few years ago (June 27th marked the three year anniversary) that resulted in an unexpected two week staycation, stitches in every appendage, a cracked helmet, damaged bike, and so much road rash that finding a comfortable position to sleep became impossible, hills had become my nightmare. Going down them filled me with anxiety, and since I hated flying down them, I had been avoiding going up them. What better way to conquer my fear than sign up for a race with a 6 mile descent and over 6000 feet of climbing on the bike course alone? 

Peer pressure was my excuse, but internal pressure was driving me. I would learn to love hills or die trying.

Our Accommodations

Race Week:

In my prep for this race, I learned that I had unknowingly been battling some pretty horrendous hypoglycemia. I was grateful to finally know what was causing the horrible symptoms after every long race (brain fog, confusion, severe headache, nausea, fatigue, loss of appetite), so at the suggestion of Ray Campeau and Michele Faul, I hired Monique Ryan, a nutritionist who is very experienced with endurance fueling. Monique customized a three day, gluten-free carb-loading plan for me to follow leading up to this race. However, next time, I will measure

So much STUFF!

my pasta and oatmeal COOKED. (omgsofulliwantedtodie) #rookiemistake It was great, however, to go into the race with my glycogen stores on max and to know exactly what I would be eating every step of the way. I had everything ready to go and it surprisingly took a lot of stress out of my pre-race prep. I did some hypnosis with Corene Noack and some gentle yoga with Heather at Yoga Loka. I also hired Brooke Policastro (recommended by Gwen Stanton) to deep clean my apartment the Monday before the race. Jenna had agreed to watch Dylan McKay, and Aunt Louise was keeping Sophie company. It really does take a village to complete an Ironman. Coach Thea drove us up to Lake Placid Thursday with my cooler full and what seemed like half of everything I own.

I had had my chain replaced at High Gear a few weeks earlier and had been dropping chains since. I got it adjusted, but the gearing still felt sticky, so I stopped by to visit the Bike Mechanic in the Ironman Village to get it checked. $20 later, Andy claimed there was nothing wrong. Hmph.  But I used my waiting time wisely and not only went to the Athlete Briefing but finally test-drove the Normatech boots. (Hello, new legs! Where'd you come from!?)

Race Morning:

I woke up at 3:30 and had my breakfast: 1 large sweet potato, seasoned with rosemary and sea salt, 3 hard boiled eggs, 4 tablespoons of honey which I split between my two slices of Essential Baking Company Cinnamon Raisin bread (with butter!) and a cup of blueberries. Then Thea and I walked down to Body Marking... where I realized I had forgotten my Garmin in the charger back at the house. I needed to be able to track my timing on the bike to make sure I made the cut-off, and the tears started to well up in my eyes... but Thea came to the rescue and loaned me hers. I wouldn't have the Strava data (BOOO! HISS!) but at least I would be ok. Hers was only half-charged, so I made an executive decision not to start it until I got on the bike. It also occurred to me at this time that in a pre-race jitter oversight, I had frozen all of my Infinit for the bike and it was somewhat chilly. I hoped that it would thaw by the time I finished the swim.

Special Needs bags were dropped (It was nice to see some friendly TMB faces in Run Special Needs!) and I got in line for the port-o-johns... I took my first Gu a little late... There was so much going on, I forgot. Instead of an hour and a half before, I took it 45 minutes before. Then another 30 minutes before, and the last 15 minutes before the swim start.  I may have been slightly over-caffeinated.  The potty line took over 45 minutes so I was a little nervous about not getting my practice swim in. I missed the official race start but seated myself in the 1:30-1:45 crowd, all the way to the left. Water temp was a heavenly 75-ish degrees which my sleeveless xterra vortex wetsuit was perfectly suited for. I had my race anthem, Katy Perry's Rise (click above for a listen!) on repeat in my head and my amazing Tyr Mirrored Nest Pro goggles (LOVE!). Let's do this!

The Swim:

As the fog rolled out, I entered the water. The weather was expected to be perfect, the only day the whole time was in town that rain was not in the forecast. The expected high was 77. As I started the swim, my timing chip felt loose on my ankle and I made a mental note to fix it before the second loop. I stayed so far to the left that one of the lifeguards encouraged me to move closer to the right and the famous Mirror Lake Line (an underwater rope that runs the entire length of the swim course). I shouted with a laugh, "They told me I could swim as far to the left as I want and that's exactly what I'm going to do!" It was extremely crowded in the water and difficult to avoid the other swimmers. He shouted back that he was trying to keep me from swimming further than necessary, but I would happily swim an extra half mile to avoid some of the chaos. 

And then this song entered my head:

I entered my mental bubble and focused on my stroke. I noticed that the water was very choppy in the center of the lake so I took on the most water (and got a good sinus flush!) whenever I was swimming there. I had to really focus on my breathing and not inhaling the wake at that part of the out and back. I had been warned about the crowded turn buoys but the entire turn was a complete cluster f***. It felt like you had just been tossed into a swimming pool with 500 drowning football players. But I reminded myself that it was only 200 yards of chaos or so before the herd thinned out again and simply did my best to get through it. I have heard reports that the swim was really rough this year, and though I have nothing to compare it to since I have never done this course before, I can say that

Just a walk in the park!

everyone who kicked or punched or got in my way actually stopped and apologized. That is a first for any race I have done. So though it may have been rough, it was by far, the most... polite? I found myself getting irritated by so many swimmers on top of me and had to take a moment to remind myself that everyone was just doing their best to get through it unscathed. Then I went back into my bubble.

When I hit the timing mat on my first loop, I stopped before reentering the water to tighten my timing chip and tuck it under the leg of my wetsuit... and I was off again! The second loop was far less crowded so I followed the line. I suspect I had a negative split on the swim but without Garmin data, and stopping to fix my timing chip, it is hard to tell. It felt great and I came out of the water excited to proceed with my day.

Final Swim Time: 1:34:03

T1:

The swim exit to the changing tents seemed interminably long, but I was THRILLED to spot my oldest brother and his son (my nephew for those who are easily confused) cheering with my parents and my coach. I had never had such a large personal cheering section full of people who loved me present at a race and I couldn't believe how much it lifted me up and carried me through. Any fatigue or anxiety was instantly erased as I felt a surge of new life come over me. It seemed like there was a lack of volunteers in the changing tent... I'll assume that was because I was somewhat the middle of the pack? Thank the Lord for a tri miracle, my first hour of Infinit was mostly thawed. I threw my bike shorts on over my tri shorts, ate a gluten free Cinnamon Stinger waffle and another gu and some water and was on my way after a brief stop at the sunscreen station. Another wave to the family and I was on the bike.

Transition time: 15:05

The Bike:

First loop:

I was very conscious to take it easy on the way out of town and very happy to acknowledge that my bike fear was gone. I had been calculating how to pace myself on the bike during the swim and was quite optimistic. I felt good. I felt strong. I felt happy to be there. I had my anthems and my mantras rolling through my head. I was passing people without even trying and I was excited to see that I seemed to be staying with the pack. I maxed out my speed on the Keene descent at 44.5mph and wanted to go faster! My stomach seemed a little off and felt unexpectedly full, but I chalked it up to the excitement (and perhaps the carb-loading?) and plowed ahead. 

It was a beautiful day! I stopped just about every other aid station to top off with water and my Infinit Concentrate since temps were mild and I was working with a 20 oz aero bottle. I was surprised to pass Devon in Jay and tried to slow down a bit... I expected her to be going faster so perhaps I was pushing too hard? But I felt great so I just kept going. Two hours in, around mile 40, I had promised myself another Stinger waffle to make up the missing calories in my Infinit, but the moment I took it down, I felt my body start to protest. It was as if I had hit my limit on carbohydrates. I instantly became nauseous and decided I would ditch the waffles unless absolutely necessary from that point forward.  With some quick calculations, I determined that I was slightly ahead of schedule on my nutrition and decided to only drink water for a bit. This was also around the time that I realized I was still covered in sand from the beach. It was everywhere and followed me all the way to my post-race shower.

I was still in pretty good spirits and when I started the climb back to Wilmington from Jay, I was making my fellow competitors' ears bleed by serenading them with Miley Cyrus's The Climb. There were spectators around every turn. One guy even had his chickens out, clucking us along. Homeowners and businesses were blasting music for us... And my amazement continued as I progressed along the course, and never was out of sight of another rider or 20. In the past I have been alone for so long, I have often wondered if I took a wrong turn! This was a nice change of pace. (See what I did there?*wink, wink* *nudge, nudge*) 

And then, I dropped my chain. And I dropped it again. I hoped this wasn't going to continue all day...

My first trip through the Bears, I was once again amazed at the crowd support. There were so many people cheering us on! I never expected to see them, but there they were! I wasn't hungry and was still slightly nauseous, so I was contemplating what I would do at Special Needs. I was pleasantly surprised to spot Paulo with his camera at the end of Grandpa Bear. Hi, Paulo!

Special Needs:

I had packed my boiled, salted Peewee potatoes (and a frozen wet washcloth... that was the BEST to get some of the salt off!!) I also had Banana Boat Cool Zone Sunblock which felt AMAZING. Highly recommend for racing on hot days. I ate one potato and gave up. I had no interest in food. I tucked them in my back pocket in case I changed my mind and got back on the bike. I also reloaded my Infinit.

Second Loop:

It was amazing to come through town, to see Thea and my parents again, to see everyone cheering, to

see all the people who had come out to witness the show. Once again I felt like I had been given wings. The nausea was forgotten, I was ahead of schedule, the world was a magical place. 

But the second loop was no joke.

The heat seemed like someone had dialed it up 20 degrees. The thought of eating was repulsive, but I had to stay on top of my nutrition or risk the awful feelings I had after Eagleman and Quassy. Once again, I flew down the Keene descent, though I was disappointed to realize that I only maxed about 38mph the second time around. Still a huge improvement on the 20-30mph I was was maxing last year, but nothing like my first loop. I noticed that I was playing leapfrog with #1833 who I later learned was named Bert (we found each other on the run, too). The heckles called back and forth helped the time pass. But by mile 60, the nausea had intensified. And at mile 70, I was begging the medic for some sort of anti-nausea medication. A random volunteer handed me Pepto Bismol, and for those of you who know me, you know how awful I must have been feeling. The last time I took medication, I believe a quarter of my body was covered in road rash, and even then, I waited as long as I could between doses of pain killers. But during this race, I poured that Pepto into my face like a man in the desert for 3 days who had just found water. I don't think it helped. I slowed down, hoping it would calm my angry stomach. I found that if I kept a really easy pace and didn't drink anything, the nausea subsided a bit... but there is no easy pace for me with climbing, and I had a time limit. I just kept wondering how I was going to handle the run if I couldn't get any nutrition in... The ascent back to Wilmington started at mile 80. Shortly before this, I had warned the cyclists around me (especially my new friend Darren) that if I turned my head to the right, they better not be there, or they would be covered in my puke.

It's amazing to witness where your brain goes at tough moments like this... At mile 85, I prayed for a song in my heart to pull me through, and this flooded through my brain.

I started to cry. And I sang with gratitude through the tears. Time was running short, the nausea was unbearable and I was fighting back a tidal wave of vomit, but it occurred to me that even though I may be struggling, it was a beautiful day, and I truly was blessed to be capable of being out there in that moment when there are so many others who can't. I thought about quitting, and then I thought of my parents waiting for me, and I couldn't let them down. So I channeled some of Sophie's determination (the 45 pound dog that jumped an 8 foot fence because she wanted to play with the horses, among other acts of superdoggedness), sang to myself, and pushed ahead. As the blind athlete and his guide passed me, I'm pretty sure I saw him craning his neck to hear what I was singing... 

The miles ticked by slowly, and time was running out. But I rolled into town just before the cutoff, and I fought back the ugly cry as the crowd cheered and I shouted back words of thanks.

Final Bike Time: 8:17:48

T2: 

To the angel in the changing tent, I wish I could remember your name. You were incredible. I was so nauseous and emotional, I couldn't think straight. You put my socks and shoes on, you got me water, you even told me what I needed to bring with me and what I could leave behind. You encouraged me by telling me how together I seemed compared to some of the other athletes you had seen that day. I am so grateful you were there and you are the gold standard for me to strive for if I am ever in your shoes. I stripped off my bike shorts, put my visor on, and headed out on the run.

Transition Time: 11:07

The Run:

I took it easy down the hill out of transition to warm up. The cooling towel I had brought was amazing and I tucked it around my neck like a collar (I dropped it in my run special needs bag as the sun was setting.) My pace felt effortless but the nausea was still there and just the idea of taking in nutrition made my stomach feel like a boiling lava pit so I stuck with water. 

The folks at the Base Salt aid station were rather pushy in hocking their wares which was a little annoying. I didn't realize they were not a regular aid station the first time I ran by. I just wanted water. And they insisted they had what I needed... and handed me their concoction. Someone needs to explain the "Nothing New On Race Day" mantra to them. I threw it away and continued to the next aid station. You're supposed to be there to support the athletes, not bully them into trying your product. About seven miles in, the nausea had subsided and I started experimenting with taking in a little gatorade endurance. The heat coming off the pavement was intense, so I would drink some gatorade, some water, and occasionally pour the remaining water on my head. I walked the water stops and after two port o potty stops, and the prior unrelenting nausea, I took the immodium I had stashed away just as a precaution (once again, this is quite telling of how awful I really felt). I took some shot blocks at approximately miles 7, 10, 15, 19, and 22, but for the most part, I just ate anything that looked appealing. Once the sun went down, I switched from gatorade to chicken broth and water. Any time I took in solid food, however, the nausea started to return, so ate very minimally. 

I found a few running buddies along the way: David, who had done IMMD last year as well and swore, as I did, that this was his last Ironman, and Bert, my leapfrog buddy from the bike, who works in Basking Ridge and lives in Rochester. I also spotted some friendly faces; Gail, Dennis, Shannon, Lauralyn, Devon, Craig, and so many more.  When I cruised by High Peaks, they were playing Can't Stop the Feeling on repeat, and I was reminded of my Sunshine in my Pocket. (Thanks, Bill, for getting that song in my head at Quassy! I felt your prayers the whole day!)

Around mile 14, I found Scott, who was running just about my pace, and after a few aid stations, we committed to finishing this race together. I think I might have been able to complete the run a tiny bit faster if I hadn't, but the company was well worth it. Especially when it got so dark that all you could see of your fellow runners was a floating halo of light (aka the glow necklaces they were handing out). Scott had wanted to walk the hills but I pushed him towards the end and in the style of the Matrix (There is no spoon!) I encouraged him with the mantra, "There is no hill!" I did allow us to walk the two big grades, though... I'm not a complete sadist! Scott had an amazing headlamp. Mine had broken the night before. I need to find one like his. I don't know how anyone could see where they were going out there without it. River road is DARK.

The run through town was incredible. Thousands of people, cheering your name... I loved hearing my CJTC friends and my TMB teammates (Diana! I didn't know you had it in you! Very impressive cheering! What a set of pipes!) along with my parents, coach, and so many friends I've met along my Ironman journey. It felt like a reunion of sorts! And something I noticed very quickly is that if I gave the crowd even the slightest inkling of encouragement, they cheered even louder! That must be how it feels to be a toddler and realize if you drop something, bigger people swoop in, pick it up, and magically return it to you. Such a fun game! Two loops of the run course meant I got to cross through this sea of screaming fans not once, not twice, but FOUR times during my run. It was magical.

In hindsight, I should not have stopped to change my socks in special needs. But then I might not have found my running buddy, Scott, so it all balances out in the long run. 

I felt strong on this run. I felt like I could keep going forever. I had fun. But the finish line was the most memorable... Running into the Olympic Oval, the torch burning, the crowd cheering, and I raised my arms to encourage them. They ROARED back at me. I couldn't even hear Mike Reilly, but I was filled with so much joy, it spilled over. I gave him a high five and leapt into the air, and I crossed the finish line feeling happier and more accomplished than I think I ever have. 

The hardest fought victory is the sweetest. I fought my demons, and I won.

Final Run Time: 5:58:40

Now THAT is a happy finisher!

Post Race and Recovery: 

When I was done I heard about everyone getting sick. I saw a lot of that on the course, but from my

Post-race recovery station

perspective, it didn't seem more than normal. The spectators got a different view, however. It was reported at the Athlete's banquet that I did not attend that there was a 9% DNF rate this year, higher than any previous Lake Placid Ironman. In the local paper the next morning, it was stated that the salt levels in Mirror Lake measured unusually high. They attributed this to ice and snow removing agents used on the road in the winter. I'm not sure if this is what caused my nausea, but it would make sense.

I am sure that the post race rubdown I received from a very skilled fellow ironman assisted in my impressive recovery from this race. And my Thursday afternoon and Saturday was spent reading and basking in the sun. It was so nice to be still and be able to enjoy the summer.

Acknowledgements:

I'm so afraid I will forget someone! It truly does take a village to do an Ironman... Thea, you truly are Coach of the year. Thank you for all the ways you were there for me. To my parents and brothers and their families, thank you for your support, enthusiasm, and understanding of this craziness! To my health maintenance team: Dr. Alan Foster, Monique Ryan, Gwen Stanton, Kitty Ghen, Dr. Nancy Erb, Dr. Lou Gregory, Dr. Todd, - Thanks for keeping me moving, (relatively) sane, and pain-free! To Jenna and Aunt Louise, thank you so much for stepping in at the 11th hour and taking such good care of my fur children! To Valerie, my right arm, the jelly to my pb, that surprise party was the bomb, but most of all, thank you for keeping things running smoothly even when training had left me ragged. To my patients, thank you for being so understanding of some of my odd office hours and so incredibly supportive! To my non-triathlete friends for enduring listening to me drone on about my endless workouts and being patient as I dropped off the face of the earth for 6 weeks. To my triathlete friends for getting it! To my training partners, mainly Jill, Michele, and Devon, for being the perfect companions to push me just enough to make me stronger but not enough to leave me discouraged. To my CJTC friends and TMB teammates for the 16 hours of cheering and photo-taking. To Ray and Eve Campeau for encouraging me to come to the TMB workouts... I *WILL* get stronger and faster! To Michele Faul for hanging with me during my first Lake Placid ride this year. And finally, thank YOU for taking the time and interest to read this report. I know not everyone will do an Ironman, but I will always do my best to bring you into the race experience with me and allow you to live vicariously.

Everyone keeps asking me what my next adventure will be... Time to buy a house and settle down!

What I think about during Open Water Swim Practice...

*standing on the shore*

Ok. Here we are. I can do this. I wonder if it's cold. Doesn't matter. I drove 45 minutes to get here. I'm going in.

*begin to walk into the water*

It's not bad! Definitely could be worse. SLIMY THING! GAAAH. Oh, chill out, Jenn. It's just a little lakeweed.

*water reaches small of back*

WOO! that's chilly.  No turning back now. Gotta just dive in. Get wet. Don't wanna. Too bad. Why torture yourself? The longer you wait, the longer this is going to take. Ok. Gonna do it. Deep breaths. Going... NOW!

ARMPITS! CAN'T BREATHE! PANICKING! *frantic breast stroke* Gotta put face in. I don't wanna. Gotta. No. Ok. Why am I arguing with myself??? ok. Just have to stroke. CAN'T BREATHE!!! Can't breathe!! Can't breathe! Can't... Wait. ok. It's not so bad anymore. There. I knew you could do it! Just have to get in. Yeah. This isn't too bad. Just focus on not dying. Wow, this water is deep. I bet something huge lives in here... like that giant catfish from the Simpsons. What was his name? I'll have to google it later. (General Sherman!) Or the Loch Ness Monster. What if I see it!? Maybe I should close my eyes. But then I wouldn't see it coming! Maybe I should keep my eyes open. WHERE'DTHOSEBUBBLESCOMEFROMOMG!? Were they mine or something else's? General Sherman? Is that you? Better to have eyes closed. At least I won't know Jaws is about to rip my face off. But I'm in a lake. There are no sharks in here. Just crazy giant catfish that could swallow a row boat whole. Can't breathe.

Stop it. You're freaking yourself out. If anything lives in here, it's way down at the bottom and it's not interested in you. Just focus on your stroke. Long and lean. Gliiiiide. Breeeeeathe. Wow! The water's so clear I can see my hands perfectly! The sun looks so pretty shining down through the water. I wonder how far down I can see! Wow this water is REALLY clear. I can't see ANYTHING but my hands. How deep IS this lake?? How big could that catfish be? What if he's hungry?? Can't breathe! STOP IT! FOCUS ON YOUR STROKE!

Okokok. Chilling out. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, lalala... No. Really. This water is so clear and pretty. This is so relaxi-AH! WEEDS! I hope that was a weed. What if it was a water snake?! Or an EEL? ICK! No. It was just a weed. Stop. Get back to focusing on that stroke. Gliiiiide, lift, pull, drive with the hips... this really is relaxing when I stop freaking myself out. Ahhh... shift, glide, pull... Was that a fish? Omg! It's a whole school of them! See what you can appreciate when you just relax and enjoy the experience? Present time consciousness. That's what it's all about. So neat. Hi, little fishies... thanks for sharing your lake with me... OMG WHAT STARTLED THEM?! GENERAL SHERMAN IS THAT YOU? AHHHHH! Calm down. General Sherman is not interested in you. They were probably just startled by YOU.

OMG. To the fish, *I* am the Swamp Monster. Mind. Blown.

Halfway done.

And stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe... stroke, stroke, stroke, breeeathe. I smell fish. What if I touch a dead fish? What if I grab it when I stroke? *sites for dead fish* Ok. Maybe there's no dead fish. Maybe it's on the shore. OMG DID I JUST TOUCH IT??? Just swim. Swim faster. Get away from it. BLLLLAAAAAGGGHHHH.

Almost at the turn around! this isn't so bad! What a pretty day. The water is so refreshing. I could do this all day. And look at that. I'm almost done. Remember when one lap of the pool seemed impossible without stopping? You've come a long way, kid. Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe... long, lean... I'm a torpedo, gliding through the water. Look how fast everything is gliding by.

AH! GIANT BUBBLE! That couldn't have been mine! No, Jenn. It's yours. You just pulled it into the water with your stroke.

Relax. Elbow up. Long and lean. Glide. Breathe. I can see the bottom. Almost there.

Can I stand yet? No standing until your hands drag the bottom. Ew....lakeweed... *stands* WhoooAoooo...dizzy.

But I made it! YAY! That felt sooo good!

Can't wait to do it again!

And in case that's too much reading for you, here's an infographic courtesy of Brian Barnes of the Pathetic Triathletes Group that proves that I am not the only neurotic open water swimmer in the universe. Glad to know I'm not alone.

Life Time Athletic Indoor Tri

This was my first indoor tri. I wasn't sure what to expect. Since Bill M. was visiting, he decided to get in on it, too (his first tri since his 140.6 in 2012- way to go, Bill!). (times will be updated when the official results are posted)

It began in the pool, swimming as many laps as you could for 10 minutes. When the 10 minutes ended, they told you how many laps you had completed and you had 10 minutes to get changed and get upstairs to get on a spin bike. The bikes were equipped with look pedals so I was excited to realize that my bike shoes were compatible. What I was NOT prepared for was how difficult it was to change into a sports bra and running tights when I was damp and how long it would take. I ended up starting the bike portion 30 seconds late.

Once I got going on the bike, I was cooking. Literally. It was hot and I watched pearl-sized beads of sweat bloom on the backs of my hands. I was glad I had towels. The volunteers were great, grabbing me water and a banana. I probably should have had a gu before or after the swim but half a banana did the trick to keep my blood sugar from tanking. One volunteer even brought up Eye of the Tiger on his phone and blasted it in my ear for the last 5 minutes of the 30 minute ride. I also did not realize for the first 5 minutes on the bike that the distance would increase faster with higher resistance. According to the bike computer, I was pedaling about 20-23mph the majority of the time, regardless of resistance. I had issues adjusting my saddle height and was pedaling standing for about 5 minutes while volunteers and a maintenance guy tried to fix it. I finally told them not to worry about it and sat back down.

We had 5 minutes after the bike to wipe off, grab a drink, and change our shoes. Running on the treadmill was great. I could set my pace and forget it. I meditated most of the run, with the exception of the few times I tried to rally the crowd. We ran for 20 minutes and it was done. What a great way to start the new year! If the run had been outside, this may have counted as my favorite race of all time!

Bonus: great t-shirts!

UPDATE: Finished 4th out of all the women! 17.5 lengths of the pool, 10.3 bike miles, 2.12 run miles

I didn't want to run...

I did not want to run.

It was cold and I had been spoiled by the mild temps this fall.

I procrastinated. 

I bargained.

But finally, I forced myself to lace up my shoes, strapped my Garmin 920xt to my wrist, and headed out to "git er done."

It was awful. By the end of mile 1, I was regretting my choice to leave my hat and gloves at home. By the end of mile 2, I was hating life and my feet and hands were completely numb. My muscles felt frozen as they seemed to protest every step. I fought to keep from shivering as I ran through the shade. As I turned into the park, I resolved to get this torture over as soon as possible and picked up the pace for my first set of planned sprints. I was happy to see the sun rising a little higher in the sky as I plugged forward. I was having trouble getting to the goal pace for the day, but I did my best and kept going. 

At mile 2.5, I was glad to notice the feeling had returned to my hands. 5.5 miles left.

At mile 5, my goal pace became easier to attain and Jack Johnson's Upside Down came on my iPod. I started contemplating what a great theme song it was for the past year... which lead to continuing to develop my upcoming class on using Neuro Emotional Technique as an aide for one's spiritual journey. 

At mile 5.5, Mumford and Sons "Awake My Soul" started drifting into my ears... I ran up over the hill and noticed the cloudless, blue sky and was overcome with gratitude... For the beauty of that moment, my year, my life, this run, this day, this breath... And I couldn't help but smile. 

At mile 6, I felt like I could keep running forever. I didn't want to stop. I got so caught in the moment, I lost myself for a time... And inadvertently added an extra mile. But I didn't care anymore. I was just happy to be out there. And it occurred to me where this run started that morning... And how quickly things can change. And once again, I was reminded how a little shift in attitude, in influences, in environment, the slightest recalibration... can make such a huge difference. And how the biggest limitations we face are all between our ears. And I realized...

This is why I run. This is why I Tri. And this is why I am an Ironman.

Ironman Maryland 2015 (My First!)

Pre Race:

So much stuff to pack!

This event was such an emotional roller coaster. First, it was cancelled due to Hurricane Joaquin, then postponed for two weeks... by the time I was finally leaving for Maryland, I had lost all my enthusiasm. So many friends were unable to return, volunteers were in short supply... I was so ready for it to be over with. Greg "Bacon" was driving down with his father and had agreed to give me a lift. We arrived in Cambridge around 10:30am. Greg dropped me off at check-in and went to set up his camp site. I proceeded to bump into Chad Nordby who was working security. We chatted for a bit and then I went to get in the check-in line, which was already at least 50 people deep at 11:30 (check-in opened at noon). Standing in line, I felt my excitement start to build. It was a beautiful morning, crisp and sunny with a slight breeze. By 12:30, I had my

wristband and was directed to the timing chip line... but when I saw how long the line was, I knew something had to be off. It turned out that the internet was down and they couldn't

Checked in!

give out the chips until it was fixed. There went my plan of hitting the 1pm athlete briefing! But while I was waiting, I made friends with Craig from San Diego who was in line in front of me. Turns out he came in 5th in his age group on race day! (Congrats, Craig!) It took about an hour for things to get up and running again. It was great bumping into friends throughout the day. All IMMD merch was 40% off due to the reschedule (collector's items!) so I stocked up on some gear. At the athlete briefing, they warned us about hypothermia and advised us to stay as warm as possible, especially before getting into the water. The warmer you are getting in, the longer it will take for the cold to catch up with you, I guess. I made a mental note to get an extra sweatshirt to toss for the start of the bike. After check-in was complete, I dropped my stuff off at the gorgeous

Sunset on Brannock Neck Road

house Michelle Kiser invited me in to and headed to Snapper's to meet up with the IMS crew.

Friday, I finally got the pleasure of seeing Michelle Kiser in person! As I was wondering how I would get to bike check-in, Maureen Kelpatrick texted. She and Bill offered to pick me up (hooray!!). Bill and I rode our bikes the 7 miles to Long Wharf Park while Maureen drove the pacer car and I got my first taste of Cambridge wind. All I could hope is that the wind would be gone the next day. As we rode down part of the run course, a cobblestone street, I lost a water bottle cage and got a flat. I was glad to get this out of the way before race day. Turns out I had

Bike fixed and checked in!

a couple screws loose (as if anyone needed confirmation of this... I was about to do an Ironman!!!). After Tricycle & Run hooked me up with the needed repairs and my bike was safely tucked into her slot (with a brief cameo by Howard and Diane Uniman) I changed into my wetsuit (and discovered Trislide thanks to fellow racer Avery from NYC! Thanks, Avery!) and headed to the water for a practice swim. The winds had picked up and the water was choppy. I was dreading this swim. Bill and I headed into the water where we bumped into Jaime and Tammy.  The swim was misery and the self-doubt started to build and take hold. (I wrestled with so much self-doubt leading up to this race. I think I need more training buddies. Too much solitary training gets me in my head.) The water was so cold it knocked the wind out of me and with every stroke, it slapped me in the face due to the chop. I started to lose it and concluded that in these conditions, knowing it would be colder the day of the race, I had stretched beyond what I was capable of.  My biggest concern is that the chop and the current would slow me down so much I would never make it out of the water before the cut-off. Thankfully, Bill was there to give me a reality check. With my expected swim time, I would still have a half-hour window to play with.  I also thought back to Jerseyman that Tobias convinced me to follow through with in the beginning of the season... the water was cooler, it was rainy, and I didn't even have a wetsuit back then and I was ok. Once I got over my

Part of  my Prayer List

panic, I relaxed in the water, got into my groove, and got a small practice swim in, but I was more

A little reminder for race day
(used to easily distinguish
my bag from the others)

than ready to get out, get warm, pick up my last remaining needed supplies, and get a warm meal in my belly! (Bill and Maureen marveled as I shoveled in my bunless hangover burger and cheddar bacon fries at Jimmie and Sook's... "Won't that bother your stomach for the race?" NOPE! lol)

After that, it was a matter of dropping off my run and bike bags, taking our CJTC photo, bumping into a few more friends, and heading home to pack my special needs bags, get my prayer requests written on my arm (thanks, Shannon!), and getting to bed. I was beat!

Race Morning:

On the way to the shuttles, I ate two hard-boiled eggs and a peach chobani as this breakfast served me well at Princeton. When I boarded the shuttle, I started chatting with the guy next to me. I thought this would be a good idea to ease my nerves. Turns out it wasn't. He was a first timer as well and was full or horror stories and anxiety. I put the conversation to bed as soon as I could and tried to focus on what I could control.

39 degrees and breezy, 33 with the windchill factor.

Due to the temps, I had opted for a swimsuit under my wetsuit (sleeveless), tri bra underneath, and a complete wardrobe change. At Thea's advice, I wore two swim caps. I also covered my face and arms with vaseline in an attempt to preserve some heat and protect my skin. While we waited, I wore a hat, gloves, and sweatshirt, plus handwarmers. I also left my socks and shoes on. They first announced that due to 30 mph wind gusts and a small

Deceptively calm sunrise at the swim start

watercraft advisory, the swim would be cut in half (1.2 miles) and moved to a 7:30am start.  Miraculously, as the sun rose and 7am came around, the winds settled down and the swim was lengthened to 3000 meters. At this point, I realized I had lost all enthusiasm for this race. I wasn't my normal cheerful self. The last thing I want to do is put myself in danger. My feet were already numb from the cold. I have Reynaud's and don't tolerate cold well in general. I started getting really nervous. I wanted to walk away. After all, I don't have anything to prove. This wasn't worth the risk anymore. If it weren't for my tri club members, Maureen with her offer of prayer, and Darren with his pep talk encouraging me to just get in line and go, I never would have started. As I shuffled into line and ate my Espresso Love Gu, I prayed for a sign that I was where I was supposed to be... a little sign from the Universe to reassure me I would be ok. That's when a fellow racer started chatting with me. I mentioned that I had dedicated each mile to someone, the first being my Godmother because it was her birthday that day. She nonchalantly mentioned that it was her Godmother's birthday too. Huh. Our conversation continued, I asked her where she was from... New Jersey? What are the odds of all this synchrony? I decided to embrace that and got into the water.

The Swim:

It was so. damn. cold. A word of thanks for my fellow triathletes as I am sure the first thing you all did was pee the moment you got in the water. It made for a lovely hot tub at the first turn buoy and really worked wonders not only to warm me up, but lighten my mood and make me chuckle... with my mouth tightly closed. Luckily, my feet were already numb from the air temp when I got in the water. Once I got over the initial shock, I was on my way.

The Choptank River earned its name that day and I couldn't help but wonder if all the salt water I swallowed (and got my sinuses flushed by) would change my salt/hydration strategy for the day. There were a lot of people swimming over me and diagonally in front of me despite staying far off the buoy line. My goggles were foggy the whole time but I didn't bother to stop to fix them. I just wanted to finish that damn swim. Siting was difficult as we were swimming directly into the rising sun. The water was
incredibly choppy so I just followed the swim caps ahead. I did opt to use earplugs for the first time (breaking the cardinal rule of "nothing new on race day") because I had heard the cold water in the ear canal could mess with my equilibrium and I've noticed minor issues with this before in open water.  There was a bit of confusion at the start of the second loop... were we supposed to do a second loop? I wasn't sure. But I

confirmed with someone on a SUP and started on my second lap. This is also the first race where I not only had multiple people T-boning me on the swim with their heads, but I also got kicked in the sternum. It wasn't enough to hurt, but I was pretty shocked that could even happen. I blame the chop. As I left the water I heard the announcer. "There are 130 swimmers still in the water."

See this?
This is what a freezing cold triathlete looks
like exiting the water.

T1: SO. DAMN. COLD. Everything was a blur as Kristin and her companion expertly stripped off my wetsuit and helped me up. I ran into the changing tent. The changing tent was crowded and chaotic, I knew they were going to have heaters but it was still cold and drafty... no. WINDY. in the tent. And as far as the heaters went, there only appeared to be one. It was difficult to find an empty chair so I sat on the ground. I opened my handwarmers and tossed them in my shoes (forgot to do this in the am). It was very difficult to get dressed damp. I needed some help from the volunteers. I threw on tri shorts, bike capris, a bike jersey, sleeves, my Bontrager windbreaker (love this thing!), swiftwick socks, surgical gloves under my bike gloves, and I threw a $5 walmart sweatshirt on top for some added warmth. On the way out of the tent, I put my handwarmers in my pants on my quads. (Thanks for the idea, Carrie!) I also put some vaseline on my face to protect from the wind. I think I broke a record for longest transition ever: 20:15


The Bike:
As usual post swim, I had some catching up to do. I started passing people. Relentlessly. One after another. My prayers

Bike Mount

helped me through and by the time I got to mile 15 of the bike, I was crying tears of gratitude for starting, for being physically able to do this race, and for the amazing support I found myself surrounded by. The wind was BRU. TAL. It seemed that when the headwind would let up, the crosswind gusts would take over. I don't know what the max wind speed was (perhaps 35 mph?), but it just seemed to get worse as the day progressed. The drafting was out of control and seemed impossible to avoid at points. We also were not supposed to cross the double yellow line but with people riding two across without passing, and refusing to budge when I called out "on your left" that was also impossible to avoid. And with the unexpected wind gusts, I wanted to give adequate space to pass.

The most fitting meme for the bike course, and perhaps the race as a whole.

But I kept pushing.

You can see the fluff on the top of the grass here.
...And the sheen from the Vaseline.

My concentrated Infinit worked well to keep my nutrition and hydration timed well but in the wind I didn't want to risk refilling my aero bottle on the bike so I stopped at every aid station instead. I can't remember when I ditched my sweatshirt. I kept my focus on my short term goal: to get to my bacon and salted boiled potatoes at the halfway point and aside from my prayers, that was all I focused on. There was a lot of fluff blowing through the air from the grass (what my mom has always called Squirrel Tails due to their resemblance) and it stuck to the Vaseline on my face. Also, every time I leaned forward to take a sip of Infinit, water would pour out of my nose. Not sure if this was from the swim, the cold, or the pollen, but I've never had so much liquid rushing out of my sinuses on a ride before.

I came in to Bike Special needs a half hour ahead of schedule. Unfortunately, the porto potty line was RIDICULOUS. There was no TP. I tried to ask for some and a fellow racer yelled at me that I didn't need it. I couldn't help but wonder what her rush was about... it's not like she was vying for a Kona slot... I was glad I had surgical gloves with me for reapplying my chamois butter, but I will put some TP in Special needs for next time.

Omnomnomnom.
(aka Bike Special Needs)

About 20 minutes later, I was on my way again. Despite training with my mid ride snack, it did not sit well. As I fought blowing chunks all over the course, I wondered if it had somehow gone bad. The nausea was awful. I think the fat was just too much to handle with my level of exertion. I slowed down a bit to let my body digest. The wind was getting worse. I just prayed to finish this ride safely. The sun went behind a cloud and it got cold. I stopped at the porto potty again two more times. At mile 90, the girl in front of me in line suggested a massage chain for our aching shoulders. I was 100% down with that idea! Looking back, I probably could have cut 45 minutes to an hour from my time without the bathroom lines. My feet were numb the whole ride. The feeling only came back at bike special needs when I was off my saddle. I kept waiting to hit "the wall" at mile 80 (I've heard so many people mention this!) but it never came. By the time I hit mile 80, all I could think was that I was almost done. All I had to do was keep pedaling and soon, my feet would be safely back on the ground. And I could get my dry, warm, fleece pullover. It was great seeing my cheering crew around mile 100 and Michelle called out that she would call my mom and let her know I was ok. Apparently the tracking software went down (doesn't it always?? lol). And shortly after that, knowing that we only had 8 miles to go, the wind decided to open up a can of whoop ass. I felt like I was riding with a flat tire through sand. But I kept pushing. And kept passing. I was almost there. Total bike time: 6:59:55

T2: LORD HAVE MERCY I HAVE REACHED THE PROMISED LAND!!! I was so happy to be off that damn bike. I barely noticed the half mile jog through transition (for the second time that day... limited volunteers meant no bike handlers at IMMD 2015). I was convinced the wind would be so much more tolerable on the run. (I was wrong. More on that later.) One more trip to the porto potty (glad to see my hydration was on point). I stripped off my bike capris (and left on my tri shorts underneath) and changed out of my sweaty bike jersey. I also ditched the windbreaker. It was great to get dry clothes on again. I opened some handwarmers and carried my gloves for now. Ditched my sunnies and switched to my lucky Devils hat. Total time: a luxurious, meandering 19:41

The Run: (I wrote this once already but it got deleted. Lame. Here we go again.)
I thought the wind would be better once I was off the bike. I was wrong. The gusts knocked the wind out of me and threatened repeatedly to steal my hat. (HANDS OFF, MOTHER NATURE! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU TODAY!)  It was the kind of wind that jumps out of nowhere and chases your own breath down your throat. I offered up my extra bottle of eye drops to a fellow racer in the changing tent who was struggling with her contacts. I gave some Immodium to a guy I met at the start of the run whose bowels wanted to run more than his legs.

And overall, I felt pretty good.

Once I got moving, I wasn't cold. And as long as I stayed moving, I seemed to be ok. I tried to chat with people along the way... one was a guy with a medical needs bag who I jokingly accused of toting a power drill with him on the course (he good-naturedly shot back that he didn't know if anyone might need some home improvements that day and wanted to be prepared). I also snagged a bear hug from a couple of kids dressed in bear onesies (SO WARM AND SNUGGLY!).

I stopped by Run Special Needs at my ?third? pass because the sun was going down and I didn't want to get cold. I think this was around mile 10. My left hip flexor started to seize when I paused at RSN and I realized that stopping was not a good idea. I also realized that Run Special Needs was placed in, by far, the windiest, coldest location on the entire course... I'm pretty sure I spotted Dorothy's house flying by... and perhaps a dairy cow... I grabbed my fleece and headlamp and got moving after a brief struggle trying to convince the volunteer to use my extra handwarmers.

I was really happy to have the headlamp. There were spots on the course where I couldn't even see my own feet and the flood lights made it worse, bleaching out my rods and cones running into them. The headlamp really helped. I took advantage of the hot and lukewarm chicken broth and by the last 7 miles, I had a newfound enthusiasm for Watermelon Gu Chews. When the cramping returned in my hip flexor and started in my low back, my new running friend, Kelly, suggested I may need more salt, so I took some base salts and gatorade endurance. I think she was onto something because it seemed to help. And if it was just placebo? Well Thank you, Brain! Kelly and I found each other around mile 12 and she was a Godsend. We were about the same pace and she encouraged me to move when my legs protested. I definitely owe my run time partially to her. And I think Ironman needs to officially subtract 30 seconds off her run time, as she let me go first and promised to trip anyone who tried to steal my moment in the shoot or screw up my Finisher's photo. Favorite signs spotted were "Chafing the Dream" and "This puts the FU in fun!" Run Time: 6:07:30

Total time: 15:01:44

Post Race:
I felt great coming down the shoot, but the moment I stopped, the cold and my worked muscles caught up to me. I felt like I could barely move. I was so grateful that Chad was there and offered to immediately drive me home. All I wanted was a hot shower after being so cold for so many hours.

When we got to the house, my muscles just didn't want to work anymore and I needed a little help getting out of the car. The shivering began and didn't stop until I was inside. I felt like my body temp was all over the map. When I finally got out of that glorious shower (NO CHAFING! IT'S an ironman MIRACLE!!), I was fine for about a half hour... and then I couldn't stop shivering. I ended up wrapping myself in the mylar blanket under the covers and in about 30 minutes, I was warm and sleeping. I thought I'd be hungry when I was done, but I had no appetite either. I had two reese's cups as a post race treat with some water and gatorade and went to sleep. The next morning, I was afraid to move, but as soon as I got moving, the stiffness started to recede. I felt mildly hung over and walked like a toy soldier, but I was surprised how mild the after affects were! I also only slept 4 hours and woke up at 5am like someone just flipped my power button on. My appetite and my fatigue were unpredictable all day Sunday but each day they got better and better. I took an ice bath Sunday afternoon which worked wonders, took my swim class (with hot tub time) Monday night, got a massage, adjustment, and hot bath Tuesday, and felt back to normal by Wednesday with the exception of getting winded easily. Overall, a much better recovery than I expected! Dare I say, with the proper training, this was actually somewhat... easy? *ducks for cover*

The medal

(Almost) A million thanks: (some of these seem to have disappeared so I'm sorry if I left anyone out. :( )

I'm so overwhelmed with gratitude:

To my coach Thea, for training me well and handling my self-doubt with such a cool hand.

My dad made this sign! #adorbs

To the cheerleaders: my parents and brothers and their families, the bears, Banana Girl, the Base Salts crab, Doug and Becky, CJTC, all those along the course, and, especially, those who tracked, cheered, and followed from home. When I turned my phone on at the end of the day, I was blown away with how many of you sent messages congratulating me. I had no idea so many of you were with me during that race but it warmed my heart and made my eyes get all leaky. ;) You have no idea how much that meant to me.

A warm welcome home

To the one who put the idea in my head: Bill Markunas, you are one of the most inspiring, motivational people I know. Without you and your gentle push, this distance might have never been brought into the realm of something I might be capable of.

To my Team of Body and Mind mechanics that keep me mobile and sane: Patrick Lerouge, Gwen Stanton, Dr. Alan Foster, Dr. Dennis Mariano, Dr. Nancy Erb, Dr. Lou Gregory, and Dr. Laura Brayton.

To Nori, for the support, a place to stay during training weekends, and for cheering. Ironbaby in the house!!

To my friend I met on the marathon portion: Kelly, I can't thank you enough for keeping me going. I'm so glad we found each other out there!

To my training buddies! Especially Greg, Howard, Gappy, Carrie, Joe, Gilberth, and the Rays of Sunshine.

To Craig at High Gear for tolerating my neurotic pre-race panicked needs and the one-on-one tire-changing lessons.

To my assistant, Valerie: Thank you for working so hard, taking such good care of our patients, and tolerating my erratic training schedule and taper crazies, especially once the dreaded reschedule hit!

To Darren for the peptalk that saved the day.

To Mike Reilly: Your promise of a post-race phone call kept me moving at so many moments!

To the Volunteers: Kristin who gets the award for best wetsuit stripper ever, the mystery girl who had to touch my bare ass in the changing tent, and especially Michelle who put my mom at ease when the tracking software went haywire, cheered at seemingly every aid station, invited me into a beautiful house,

To Shannon: Thanks for being such a selfless roomie, for taking time to write on my arm (lol), and for not losing it with the sound of my crinkling mylar blankie.

To Maureen & Bill: I'm so grateful God brought us together. Thank you for helping in so many ways. As I prayed for Patrick during the bike, I thought about his attitude towards life and was overcome with gratitude with how God takes the worst situations and makes them beautiful.

To my friends for being so understanding of my absence this past summer and so tolerant of all my tri-talk.

Extra special thanks to my transportation crew: Greg, Gappy, Maureen, Bill, Chad, Kristin, and Keith!!

To God for keeping my friends and I safe during this intense and brutal day and for giving us the ability to compete and complete such an event.

And just in case you want to see a graph of the wind speeds that day...