Very long. A diarrhea-like dissertation, in fact. Again, for me.
3:30 am – Alarm clock goes off but I was actually already awake. I slept pretty well, as I did before Lake Placid.
3:35 am – Use bathroom, clean teeth, and begin hair management. It’s no longer long enough to French braid – my tried and true race hair style – so I segment it with several rubber bands to achieve the same effect. Several things to accomplish: tape hamstring and shoulder, put on race shorts, sports bra, hear rate monitor, compressive race top (I could barely breathe by this point), compression socks, IM timing chip, rented athlete tracker GPS tracking device, Garmin wrist GPS, contacts, pants/long sleeved shirt and sandals to wear to transition, checking all these items off a list I made ahead of time. Fill water bottles. Eat something – the hotel was very accommodating by opening the breakfast bar very much earlier than normal for all the racers. This was hard; food just doesn’t go down well this early. I had a bagel with peanut butter on it, and a cup of coffee, both prepared for me by Ed. Use bathroom again. Grab pre-packed Run and Bike Special Needs bags, and Morning Clothes Bag.
4:45 am – Head to transition. We parked in the Alliance center b/c we feared terrible crowding and lack of parking at the Terrace. We were shuttled over by school bus, but still had to walk a couple of blocks. It was freezing! Air temp 50 deg. WHY didn’t I even think to wear my darn jacket????
5-6 am – Deposit Special Needs Bags at drop off points. Go to transition, find T1 bag and add cropped compression top/sleeves. Squeeze through the crowds to get to my bicycle. Fill tires with a strangers abandoned pump. Put water bottles and athlete tracking GPS on bike (it can’t get wet). Get body marked – long line and still freezing. Run ahead to use bathroom and somehow miss rendezvous point with Marianne, Heather, Pete and Ed. Put on wetsuit in a stairwell, which was far warmer than it was outside. Applied BodyGlide, but not enough. Realized I forgot to put my pre-swim nutrition (Gu) in my bag (damn, I was already hungry!). Called Ed, who came to meet me. We wait, but the others don’t show up.
6:30 am – Deposit Morning Clothes Bag at drop point, except my shoes, which I forgot to add. Find Marianne and Heather. Thank goodness Marianne had an extra banana to give me. Heather kindly takes my shoes in with her morning clothes bag. Announcer telling us we have to get into the water, even though our race doesn’t start until 7 am, because it takes so long to get everyone (2500 athletes) in.
6:50 am – Starting cannon for the pro’s. National Anthem (very well sung). Marianne and I continued in line to get in the water while Heather hung back. I moved away from the entry point as instructed, so there was room for more people to file in. I found a small rock to stand on, but had to work to stay on it, otherwise I’d have to tread water until the start, b/c it was too deep to stand on the ground. I was back maybe 50 yards from the starting line, and closer to the shore than the buoy line. I observed one participant with a snorkel. Water temp was reportedly 71-73 deg, and I christened my new wetsuit.
7 am – And were off. Despite my starting location, things were crowded. I spent the entire swim like a pin ball bouncing back and forth between other swimmers, also swimming up onto people and having people swim up onto me. I stayed toward the shoreline on the outbound leg, hoping to gain more open water, but that never panned out. It was weird watching the Monona Terrace go by as I swam, and I wondered where my family was. I enjoyed the so-far-so-good feeling of my wetsuit, versus past experiences where this was just about the point in time the choking-induced panic would set in. And I tried continually to concentrate on my stroke, frequently interrupted as contact with another swimmer (or a dead fish) occurred. With buoy turn #1 the sun was now straight into my eyes. I felt glad for all that practice in the Schulykill river, swimming into the sun and almost never seeing the turn around flag until I was up on it. I felt sure that I would either notice no one was around me, or swim into a kayak, so didn’t worry about not being able to see the buoy. This was when I got kicked in the face, dislodging my goggles. I turned around to fix them, so I wouldn’t be splashed in the face while I put them back in place, but this put me right in the way of another swimmer. I rounded the 2nd buoy intentionally wide as well, and still not alone. Unfortunately, each time I swam up on someone I made the choice to move to the left or right of them, eventually moving all the way over to the buoy line, then all the way wide, repeatedly. You know that idiot who seems to swim across the direction everyone else is swimming? I’m afraid that might be me :-\ I was kicked in the shoulder, and had a hand grab around my ankle. The contact just didn’t stop. Still surrounded, I wondered if this meant I was doing better than I did in Lake Placid. I was feeling pretty good and debated pulling harder, but remembered my training plan which said DON’T PUSH. This was my first time doing a single-lap 2.4 mi swim, which left me never really knowing how much farther I had to go on this long leg of the course. Plus, it was very early in what was sure to be a long day, so I tried to refocus on my technique. Each time we passed a buoy, swimmers farther out than me started swimming in to me. It seemed many had trouble determining which buoy was for the 3rd turn. After the 3rd buoy things finally did seem to open up. It’s funny, what I used to think of horribly disgusting I now consider strategy, and I took the opportunity to avoid needing to make a potty stop and aimed to have enough course left to adequately flush out my suit. I kicked harder from the 4th buoy to finish, hoping this would bring some liveliness back to my legs. I swam almost far enough to touch the bottom, then stood up on uncomfortable rocks and ran out. I didn’t know my finish time since I wanted to be sure I was looking up for any cameras, which apparently found me as I was fumbling with my wetsuit opening.
> After the fact: 1:37, which is a P.R. for this distance, but still disappointing. My Garmin 910XT said I covered 2.7 miles.
8:38 am - T1 – My first stripping from my new wetsuit. Apparently the new one doesn’t come off as easily, especially across the Garmin strap (I had already removed the watch via the quick release). While running toward the helix I heard the family yell, then I headed up the cold cement, cautious to pick my feet up enough to avoid stubbing my toe (post swim, this was not easy). In the changing room my handler laid out all my items from my Swim-to-Run Bag for me. I grabbed my small pack towel to dry my feet and shoulders, so I could put on funny socks (stripped and with skulls on the calves, so my family could pick me out more easily) and cropped long-sleeved top. As expected, this was a challenge and I was happy the handler was there to help work the long sleeves up over my still damp skin. She also helped hold my cycling shoes open so I could slide my feet in while I was buckling my helmet. Cycling gloves on, glasses on, nutrition shoved into pockets, snot rag under leg elastic. Ran outside to sunscreen application, where I pulled my white shirt up over my shoulders so some guy with blue (nitrile?) gloves could rub me (interesting…). Long run continued across the top of the building – jeez is this as long as a football field? The bike handler unracked my bike for me and brought it to the center isle, where I transferred my Garmin to the bike mount and put the GPS tracker back on my ankle. Then I continued across the deck to the mount line, and looked at the race time clock. I swear it said 1:58 and I thought crap – this is exactly as bad as Lake Placid.
> After the fact: 11 min, Garmin says 0.46 mi, and the GPS people think my wearing the device on my ankle is the reason it didn’t work - something about signal interference from either the bike and/or the ground.
8:48 am – Weather report says the temperature should peak at 70 deg at 4 pm. But it was not there yet and as soon as I start rolling I was cold and thankful for my make shift shoulder covers. Plan was to start out easy, all the way to mile 56. I was particularly cautious on the beginning of the course: the helix down to street level, John Nolan due to all the ruts in the road, and the single file no pass zone across the bicycle trail. As soon as I could get into aero position, I was passing people continuously and effortlessly. My average was only ~17 mph; surely this couldn’t be pushing too hard? I realized that I forgot to put sunscreen on my face, and that my feet were cold. It was windy, coming from the North and peaking at 12 mph according to the forecast, and I was riding with a death grip on my aero extensions and watching cyclists in front of me get blown by the cross wind. Somewhere in here I had my first Gu. I reached the loop (mi ~14.5) still passing people and thought I should perhaps back off some. I was also glad to not be among those already stopping for the bathroom or their special needs bags. I like to eat during steady low grade climbs, and think I broke into my Hammer nutrition bar around mi 20-23. By the time I got to the water stop in Cross Plains (mi ~39) my average was ~16 mph. I filled my water bottle, added my Accelerade powder, and pick up more food (banana, Gu, Bonk Breaker), never stepping off the bike. I was definitely consuming less fluid than in my training, but it was much cooler so I guessed that made sense. The hill sections, Old Sauk Pass, Timberline Lane, and Midtown Rd were lined with people, making these - the hardest on the course - a bunch of fun. I passed mashers and walkers while I concentrated on spinning up as much as I could. (Walkers? Hmm, never saw that in Placid). I saw my family at the top of Old Sauk. By the time I’d climbed Midtown (mi ~50) my average had ticked all the way down to 15.3, I was concerned I was pretty far from my goal finish, and I decided to pick it up a bit ahead of schedule. My goals were to bank as much speed as I could on flats and descents and hopefully loose less on the next pass of hills. I finished lap 1 enjoying the beautiful blue sky and feeling glad the ride wasn’t over yet. Lap 2 was fine. I debated the merits of removing my long sleeved top (I’d look better in photos!), but decided it wasn’t hot enough to waste the time doing it. The course was a little thinned out now, but I continued to pass people regularly. My knees began to hurt around mi 70-80, and eventually I joined the mashers (but not the walkers!) on the 3 major hills. Heading back into town, I passed Marianne somewhere between mi 100-106, and still felt in good spirits. That all changed around mi 108 or so, when I guess I’d had enough of the headwind and was completely ready for this to be over. I didn't want to do any running, particularly not a marathon, and I wondered why on earth I had already signed up for another one of these races. I felt like I needed a bathroom in a potentially explosive way. I wondered what biking up the helix might do to my legs, but it actually was not bad at all.
Other notes: “Salt tabs” (2 Endurolytes) at bike time ~2.5 h and ~5 h. Necessary? No idea. Also – many many flats/bike issues on this course (but I never saw any glass?), left me wondering what tire pressure people were using (mine was 100 psi).
> After the fact: 6:57, 16.1 mph average. Garmin says even split for outbound/inbound and slight negative split for the loops, 6437 ft elevation gain (more than Lake Placid!), and only 2 min 15 sec of stationary time (2nd water/nutrition stop was Mt. Horeb, mi ~70). This is also a P.R. for this distance.
3:46 pm – T2 – I could not stand upright. I moved my Garmin from the bike mount back to my wrist, swung my leg back over the bike and rear mounted water bottles, but could not stand upright. It was kinda comical. I walked bent over at the waist into the building. Also, I don’t know why, but my ribs were hurting under my right arm. I felt a bit out it when I picked up my Bike-to-Run bag; couldn't quite decide if I needed/wanted help or not when asked. In the changing room, I tried to stretch out my cramping some while my handler laid my things out for me (love these people, by the way!!). Let’s see, bike shoes, helmet, white top and cycling gloves off, running shoes and race belt on, exchanged used snot rag for fresh one, grabbed new packet of Endurolytes. I walked outside (upright!) and accepted more sunscreen. I stopped at the porta potties (stressed by a report of no TP) and found I was only gassy. I continued my walking until I hit transition exit. I was thinking a 5 hr marathon wasn't possible, that the info packet I put together for my family was going to be completely off, and that a 15 hr finish was more likely.
> After the fact: 7 min, Garmin says 0.2 mi.
3:53 pm – I was determined to start the run by running no matter how uncomfortable it was. I figured a terribly slow run was certainly better than a walk. Saw the family right away, which was a boost to stop feeling so pathetic. Was utterly confused at miles 1 and 2 when my watch reported a 10 min/mi average pace and thought, well that’ll never hold. Game plan was to eat (Gu) roughly every 45-50 min (alarm set on watch), walk all the aid stations where I grab fluids (and fruit if the mood stuck), and walk up all the steep hills. First walk was up to Randall Stadium (mi ~2.7). The lap inside is just the small square around the football field (not a quarter mile track) on rubbery astro turf. This was less cool than I imagined, and the small loose black rubber pieces were getting inside my shoes. The photographer here aimed at me, shot, looked at his camera, and said oops. I considered stopping for him to try again, but didn’t. I started to think about a potty stop since running was leading to ~sensations~. I stopped around mi 4 and happily realized this was still just a gas issue, which could be managed without further stops (toot!). Now at Observatory Dr (the largest hills on the run course), my average had slipped to ~11:30 min/mi. By the 6.5 mi turn around I was hurting generally everywhere, with definite blisters on my toes, my timing chip cutting into my ankle, and I thought my right hamstring was going to go. I heard the family excitedly scream my name but could only feign enthusiasm in return. Saw Heather’s Aunt and Uncle, and then Pete shortly thereafter, and then Marianne. Another participant asked how I was doing, and I admitted concern that my hamstring would seize. She offered me ibuprofin, which I gladly accepted. WOW – that, and a caffeinated Gu (Roctane) - by mi 8 I was almost a new person. Even my toe blisters stopped bothering me. Other uncomfy rubbings however, were starting to develop. I haven’t done enough of these events yet to feel comfortable with the public application of Vaseline on my nether regions, and it’s not easy to be discrete when you have a stream of runners with you and coming at you. Anyway, THIS kids, is why you don’t really want to be high-fiving all those athletes (:-O It was just about mile 11 that I saw Heather, and I was done with the first lap soon thereafter. I thought I might have heard my name, but didn’t see any familiar faces. Taking inventory, I was feeling pretty ok, and wondered whether I'd have enough left in the tank to kick up the pace w/ 3k left to go, as my training plan allowed. I was pretty sure I'd have to use the bathroom before the finish line but did not want to do it in the dark (porta potties, potentially no TP, and pitch black conditions should be avoided if at all possible). I had been consuming more fluids than usual and it was adding up. Everyone was handed a glow necklace, which I protested since I put LEDs on my running shoes. But since I had to take it, I shoved it down the back of my shirt. One nice thing about dusk is that’s when the chicken broth is offered, and I worked this into my rotation of fluids. After my second trip through the stadium I stopped to clean the crud out my shoes (ahhhh), saw Marianne again, then made my planned potty stop. I cruised the rest of the run (still walking the major hills) with lots of people telling me I looked good or strong, and hey - cool socks or cool shoe lights! It was now dark and I hadn’t looked at my watch in awhile, so I had no idea what my pace was. But I switched the view over to total race elapsed time at the 22 mile turn around and saw for the first time that I could probably break 14 h. I tried to pick it up in the final 3 mi and skipped a couple of aid stations b/c I knew there was more fluids and food at the finish line. In the finish chute, I backed off a bit so I could give plenty of room for the girl in front of me to get a nice finishing shot. Ultimately though, she was going too slowly so I zipped around her and finished feeling fabulous.
> After the fact: 5:02, average pace 11:31 min/mi. And no, I did not break the iron tracker; it’s been long regarded as sucky even without my involvement! Garmin says 1138 ft elevation gain. Splits (painfully calculated by hand) are all over the place, but fairly close for 1st and 2nd laps.
8:55 pm – Overall time 13:55:40. This was 2 h 41 min better than Lake Placid, not too shabby!! And holy cow – I set a marathon P.R. too! My catcher asked how I was feeling, and she seemed a bit taken back by my enthusiastic, “I feel great!”, so I confessed that I was glad to be done and wouldn’t mind getting off my feet. I got a medal, a finishing T that fits (!), a hat, a finishers photo, and a chocolate milk (Ironman's shiny new recovery drink). Finally noticed some stinging in my lower back – another place where some kind of chaffing occurred (likely from the corners of Gu packets scraping/poking me) that I didn’t catch in time. Got congratulations from the family and ate real food (well, something other than fruit and Gu’s at any rate). Ed nicely collected Marianne's and my gear bags, so I got to put on sweats, and then he took them to the car and moved the car closer (all of this is code for *don’t do these races without support*!!!).
~9:30 pm – Secured location to watch/cheer for remaining finishers. Really noticed how empty the finishing area was compared to both Lake Placid and Louisville. This race may have better/more bike course spectating (it's great, actually), but the finishing approach was really pretty thin.
~12:05 am – Ed and I collect Marianne's and my bike from transition and the three of us made our way to the car. We met up with Heather at the hotel, who kindly returned my shoes and swapped some race stories with us.
1:30 am - Hit the sack. It sure has been a long day!
