Worst idea ever

Never again am I going to an ironman without a travel companion. I still think it’s dumb (and selfish) to make someone suffer through an entire wasted day of watching me torture myself when I could just as easily do it at home around Memorial and on my trainer. I didn’t see a need to bring a support team--in my family-less case at least--until now. In the future it will be tough luck for whomever comes with me, because SOMEONE WILL be coming with me. I won’t admit that I can’t do the weekend alone because I just did, but having someone there to support me when I can’t make it myself would be really nice. I made it back home, but I sure as hell don’t know how! Between collecting the 37 bags of equipment (plus my bike) and hauling a huge computer bag, huge duffel bag, and huge bike box, I was pooped when I saw Houston again. I don’t even want to TALK about putting together/taking apart my bike or my various skin ailments. Let’s just say there was a lot of talking to myself and a ton of tears.

So anyway, allow me to give a painfully detailed account of how I raced this weekend (since that’s probably more interesting than the logistics of carrying many heavy bags by myself). I rocked. Either I don’t make difficult enough goals, I am better than I think I am, or I just competed like a champ, but I shattered every goal I had except one. Here are my splits:
1:06:12 swim (6:48 faster than goal)
6:28 T1 (00:32 faster than goal)
7:25:06 (14:54 faster than goal)
9:04 T2 (2:04 SLOWER than goal... I had some sunscreen/sunglasses/hair tie troubles. I’m over it now.)
4:52:30 run (7:30 faster than goal)
TOTAL: 13:39:18--27:42 faster than my highest expectations, 58:42 faster than goal

Even though you’re not supposed to compare ironman times from different courses, that time sure looks a lot better than 15:58, doesn’t it? I also got some hardware by placing 5th in my age group (plaque, fancy socks, and a gel flask!). Before you think my expanding head is floating to the stratosphere, I know my time isn’t that impressive in the super scheme of things... I wouldn’t have made it to the podium with my time unless I was under 25 or over 50 years old. Of course, I won’t really care about that until next year when I age up. Right now, I’m very proud of myself, if only because of my significant improvement.

Now I’ll give the play-by-play.
The swim
The swim is a wade start, which means you have to float around near the start line for 10-15 mins and hope you don’t lose circulation in your feet. That kind of sucked, but it still beat a beach start. I thought a good plan would be to start at the front of the line and the middle of the pack--taking the inside of the loop would probably mean getting a black eye. I figured on the way back in the crowd would have thinned and I could take the inside. Well, the way out was great; I only got kicked in the face once and didn’t kick anyone myself. I took the turn close to the buoys and headed inside for the way home. Everything went according to plan--the crowd had thinned, and I was going to minimize my trip back to transition and be a hero. The only problem was that since I wasn’t swimming with a group of people, I didn’t have anyone to sight for me (sighting is sticking your head out of the water to see where the heck you’re going). My lazy ass figured I could just swim near someone and be fine. Unfortunately, I can’t swim straight and I ended up zigzagging like it was my job; I added at least 2-3 mins to my swim time in just the last ½ mile. I didn’t have any expectations once I hit the ground to have my wetsuit removed, and that lack of expectation was fulfilled--the time read 1:21. “Wow I am SLOW” I thought as I glanced at my watch (which read 1:06). I realized the clock had started with the pros and was 15 minutes longer than my real time. Boy was I elated! I’d taken the swim easy and still beaten my goal!

T1
My first transition: swell. In retrospect, it’s very sad that I didn’t get any sunscreen on my back or legs, as they’d end up very burnt (and a nice rash on my legs, which do not care much for the sun). A bummer, but a minor one.

The bike
I felt really great hitting the first loop of the bike. The wind was at my back on the way out, which happens to be all slightly uphill. At the turnaround I even went to the bathroom, something I’d never done in a race (usually I like to pretend I’m a pro and stay right on the edge of my hydration requirements). What a proud moment! :-) I finished lap 1 well under goal pace and my legs still felt fresh. Then my ass started to hurt. I hate my bike seat with a burning, bruised, chafed passion, and that’s sad since my seat is *new*. I’d like to kick the guy at Cyclone Cycles on the foot for selling it to me. It blows. But I digress... lap 2 the wind started picking up, making the trip home pretty rough. In this lap I stopped to loosen my shoe; a volunteer had put it on for me (too tight) and my foot was numb. I was still sitting pretty (well, not literally) into lap 3, where I also stopped for some lame reason again at the halfway point (“get more salt tablets”). These stops added 5-6 mins to my time, but did a lot to clear my head. I hopped off the bike ahead of schedule and headed to T2 surrounded by cheers from the crowd.

T2
Transition 2 wasn’t my best. I had stopped drinking (why??? I’m so dumb in the heat) on the second half of the bike and my brain decided to take a union break. I scrambled for my clothes and finally made it out the sunscreen put’er-on’ers. The volunteer sprayed my freaknasty chafed/burned neck, and I thought I was going to die from the sting. I didn’t. Unfortunately, my legs were again forgotten in the shuffle and continued to crisp in the Arizona sun. Sad, huh?

The run
Despite my skin injuries, I felt good. GREAT. I felt great starting the run in Florida too; I just love getting off that stinkybutt bike. My first mile was 10:20 and I’d walked the water stop. This was considerably faster than my 11:30/mile goal pace, so I was afraid it wouldn’t last. Still, I had plenty of time to add before I had to worry about missing my goal splits. I decided then that this race was my bitch. I mostly held my pace for the next few miles until I ran into Troy, a 44 year old accountant from Maryland, who was on his second lap. We ran and chatted for about 6 or 7 miles at about 10:15 pace. The fast pace and my lack of fluid intake started to get to me, so I wished him well as he slowly got away from me. I started to have Nasty Stomach, a common ailment for endurance folks. I decided it was all in my head and I needed to assure my stomach that it was imperative that it continue to do its job. The organ talk worked, and soon I was feeling okay again. Night fell (finally!) and then Crazy started setting in. Yes, if it’s not one thing it’s another with me! Every water stop and every time I crossed a timing mat, I wanted to cry, and I can’t exactly say why. I was hoping someone at home was following my race online, and just the thought of someone hitting refresh and cheering my progress made me choke up. This always brings on an asthma attack a few mins after the tears, so I decided that if I wanted to finish in my new goal time of 13:45 (so that even with the 15 mins added from the pro start I’d be under 14 on the clock) I’d simply have to dissociate. I pretended that I was not running the race, and the pain that I observed was not mine; therefore, I could press on, pick up my pace, and worry about achieving my goal splits. After mile 17 I promised myself I could cry a few minutes after I finished, but until then I had a goal and no excuses to make for missing 13:45. I had to deliver. Yes folks, the best way to fight Crazy is with more Crazy. The race was again mine; my game worked and 1 minute after finishing, I burst into tears, but ahead of schedule.

So yeah, I finished (sans asthma attack--yesss) and as soon as I told my helper that I was fine, I broke down. After my exhibition round of tears, I went to eat. It sucked. Fresh hot pizza sucked. I sucked. Bananas sucked. My feet sucked. Feeling down, I got in a long line for a massage. While I was waiting I heard a guy asked why it was taking so long. Someone in charge replied that they were losing therapists left and right. This bummed me out, so I looked at my watch to see how long I had to pick up my bike. My watch said 11:45 (transition closed at midnight). Of course, I hadn’t changed my watch from Houston time, but I was too tired to remember that. With more than 2 hours to do so, I rushed off to get my stuff out of transition, then called Craig. And cried. A lot. I felt so pitiful and helpless and alone... I had no interest in talking about how well I’d done. I just cried. After that, I picked myself up, got to my rental car, and took my bike apart (crying of course). Then I drove to my hotel and viewed the damage: severe chafing in every place you can’t talk about with strangers (armpits, chest, crotch, inner thighs, neck), sunburn just about everywhere, and minor sun poisoning on my thighs. 2 teensy blisters on my feet (I love Mizuno running shoes!) and 3 toes that were numb. Oh, and I was a little sore. :-) Satisfied that I wasn't going to die in the night, I went to bed but I slept really poorly.

I think it’s funny how your body comes to a point where it needs sleep so badly but can’t get it. Maybe next time I’ll take some sleeping pills (or at least Tylenol PM, the greatest medicine ever).

Oh! It was hot during the race, but I didn't think it was too bad (I think the high was 88 or 90). I feel like a bad person for saying this since so many had trouble with the heat: 11.2% of the field didn't finish, and that's a LOT of folks. Maybe hot weather really is growing on me!

Monday I hit up the awards ceremony and then headed north to Tonto State Park. I was determined to see something nature-y while I was there, and I’m glad I did. I had a good time and would love to explore more when I’m in town next... hopefully next year for IM AZ 2007, but the rumor mill says they’re moving the race to November or October. Eff that, man. I’m only doing it if it’s a spring race. If that is the case, maybe 2007 is the time for Ironman New Zealand? Time will tell.

So that was the race. I was fully un-sore by Wednesday and un-stiff by Thursday, some unreal healing if you ask me. However, I’m still very tired; I am getting a lot of sleep and it’s still not enough. I’m anxious to get back into the swing of things so I can work on my cycling game; Ironman Wisconsin is in less than 5 months! I am still reeling from achieving all my goals--where do I go from here? The Wisconsin course is considerably hillier than Arizona, so I can’t be too ambitious with time goals. I’m going to have to see how my training pans out, but I want to at least maintain the same (modest) bike pace I kept on this course. Ideally I’d also continue with my running progress and hold 10:50 pace (which is a 4:44 marathon). The running goal should be easier for me than the bike one now that I’ve seen how my quality long runs and speed workouts are paying off... I LIKE putting in the time on foot. Now I just need to get my ass in that saddle--

Thanks for reading! And if you want to see some pictures, take a look here:
http://www.asiorders.com/view_user_event.asp?EVENTID=10039&BIB=886

I WANT to wet my pants

… but I’ll hold off for now. This is quite possibly my most exciting week in recent history. I leave for Tempe on Friday to race in my second Ironman (my first branded one). The weather forecast is as close as Arizona can get to Texas—a high of 86, no rain, and a merciful 21% humidity. Assuming I don’t evaporate into the desert, I should be able to handle the heat with strength and grace. I have racing wheels. I trained about twice as hard as I did for my last IM (and have marginal weight loss to show for it). To say the least, I’m excited! I’m so very stoked!

If you want to sneak a peek at my progress, you can look on ironmanlive.com. They provide full coverage (even for the slow people like me!)--just type in my sweet sweet name or my number (886 for life, baby!) and point and laugh. If you get FSN Arizona there’s a highlight show on Sunday at 10PM. Since I may not even be finished yet, don’t look for me there.

My last IM was just under 16 hours, and I’m hoping to keep my head in the game and really improve my time this go-round. Wanna know my goals? Well, tough. I’m afraid I won’t make them and therefore don’t want to share. But I suppose there’s no harm…
1) Finish. Short of near-death experience or complete bike failure, I will see
this through.
2) Beat my last time of 15:58:43. Because come on, I could kick October Mishele’s ass.
3) Finish under 14:30. Fourteen hours has such a nice ring to it.
4) Run a 5:00 marathon. This is 11:27 min miles, way slower than my training pace, slow training pace, or super slow training pace. Seeing as I’ve run marathons without even training and come in around 4:30, I can do this with some focus.
5) Goal splits: 1:13 swim, 7:40 bike, and 5:00 run (with 7 min transitions… slow and attainable changing time)—total 14:07.

During a bickering point this spring I told my boyfriend not to go to the race. It seemed like a good idea at the time because he’d surely distract and annoy me: not because he’s distracting and annoying, but because traveling and stress make me just about as unpleasant to him as possible. I figured I’d spare him the heartache and me the additional stress—but still, I’m sad. I don’t want to be there all alone. College buddy George will be competing as well, so at least I’ll know someone. I'm pretty excited to see George; he's the hardest-training triathlete I know, and he's a cool guy to boot.

In other triathlon news (is there other news?), I got an email yesterday from the Snickers Marathon Team. Anyone who’s been down the Bar Aisle at the grocery store knows that Snickers offers some lines of energy bars called Marathon bars (They have energy and low carb and protein ones... something for everyone). Anyway, they have a team of age-grouper athletes--like me--that they sponsor. I applied to join the team with the reasonable expectation of a consolation prize (box of Marathon Energy bars, please? Any flavor will do). But imagine my surprise when I got the team acceptance email! I’m so stoked! The thing that makes all of this better is I really like the Snickers Marathon bars--I don’t even have to fake it! Yessssss. I’m officially a sponsored athlete. In case you're wondering, I don't know how many people make the "Team," so it's entirely possible I'm extremely special or extremely non-special. At any rate, I now have yet another reason to train hard. Ooh, I hope my picture ends up on their website... then I’d be a celebrity. Wouldn't that be so cool?

I’m off again. I am so excited I can hardly sit still! Look for an update next week. :-D