Ironman Arizona 2009

4:15 am the alarm sounds. She slept well, though has been awake for about an hour now. She is calm. She stretches and climbs out of bed, heading to the bathroom to prepare for the day to come. In 30 minutes she is dressed and ready. She sips some Ensure, gathers her swim stuff and heads toward transition. Time passes quickly and soon it is time to head into the water. The water temperature is 64. Cold. And treading water she shivers. She hangs at the front, on the starting line. She was still laughing and chatting with the SkirtChaser when the cannon goes off. The first 200 meters are rough. She swims with her head up, clawing her way over the mass of people, arms and legs flailing. Soon the group has moved laterally toward the buoys and she finds clear waters to continue her journey through Tempe Town Lake. The waters near the turn around are very rough. Heading back toward the Mill bridge, her mind wanders to the next stage of the day. She reminds herself to stay in the moment and focuses on her arm turnover. She climbs up the stairs of the swim exit. 1:06. Wetsuit peelers grab her suit and strip it off in one swift motion. She grabs the suit and runs toward transition. Grabbing her T1 bag, she heads into the change tent and finds a chair. The volunteer sifts through the gear and hands her what she needs. It's all very efficient. Within minutes she is out and running through the bike racks toward E'ly.

Heading through Tempe the tempo is fast. The weather is perfect. She encounters a mild head wind on her way up the beeline but zips back down near 30 mph. Her feet have thawed now and she peels her gloves off for the remainder of the ride. She sips her Infinit and takes in water every 30 minutes. She checks her watch at the end of the first loop. 1:54. Fast. Maybe too fast. She's never ridden faster than 6:17 for an Ironman bike leg. She worries that she will pay in the second half of the bike ride. The second loop of the bike course is tougher. Mentally, she never considers stopping, but she is struggling now. She feels a little dizzy and weak. She compensates by increasing her nutrition intake. Within 10 miles her mind is back in the game. Her pace is slightly slower the second loop, but the winds have changed resulting in what seemed like a head wind from both directions. She is excited to start the third loop knowing that soon she will be starting the run. The third loop is fast. The winds are calm. She talks to fellow cyclists heading back in to Tempe. The mood is energetic. Her final bike time: 5:49. A bike PR by 28 minutes.

Hopping off her bike, she passes E'ly to the volunteer and grabs her T2 bag heading once more into the change tent. In 3 minutes she is out on her feet. Instantly she knows, something is not right. Her stomach is sloshing. Unexpected, because it's been at least 10 miles since she has consumed anything other than water. She keeps in mind the Ironman lesson she learned at camp 3 years ago... whatever you are feeling, it will pass. She knows that no matter how bad she is feeling, it would get better. For 16 miles, she tried everything. At every second aid station, she took in something. First Infinit. Then a banana. Gatorade. A cookie. Coke. More Infinit. Nothing was digesting. And nothing was boosting her lagging blood sugar. Nearing her club aid station in the second loop she sees the SkirtChaser riding toward her on the mountain bike. She begins to cry. Almost as soon as the tears hit her cheeks she forces them to stop because it is harder to breathe. She complains to him that she only wanted to run well today and now her race is falling apart. He encourages her to stay on track and to keep focused on the PR. She asks him to stay with her for a few miles. He provides a welcome distraction and keeps her mind off the struggle. The sun begins to set. With the oncoming darkness, the aid stations bring out the chicken broth. At the next aid station she sips a cup of broth. Two miles later, she sips another cup. She begins to notice that her bloating is resolving. Salt. How stupid could she have been not to recognize the signs. She needed salt. Now she would take in broth every 2 miles for the last loop of the run course. With 6 miles to go she glances at her watch. Doing some quick math, she realizes she needs to run under an 11 minute pace to beat 12 hours on the clock. She doubts her abilities but figures there's no harm in trying. She picks up the pace. There is no more walking. No more dallying at the aid stations. She has re-focused her energies on the goal. She knows a PR is inevitable, now it's a question of how much time can she take off. Entering Tempe Beach Park for the last time, she glances at her watch. 3 minutes to 7. She has 3 minutes to make it to the finish line to break 12 hours. She pushes hard. She feels like she's sprinting though she doubts her pace has changed significantly. Rounding the corner to the finish chute the clock reads 11:58. She laughs to herself, not knowing her watch had been set a few minutes fast. She eases up on her pace and focuses on crossing that line. 11:58. A new PR by over 40 minutes.

The SkirtChaser is there to greet her. They pose for a photo and she greets her little sister, her cousin, and JA... all of whom will be crossing this same finish line in 365 days at the end of their own Ironman journey. She is smiling and happy. It was a good day. It was a great race. It was a perfect PR.