Ironman CDA: Number 10!

Ironman Coeur d'Alene was a perfect day.  It wasn't a PR.  I didn't feel fantastic all day long.  But I executed a race that I'm extremely proud of, and I have confidence going into the second half of my season.

The day started earlier than usual with the new swim start.  WTC announced a few months ago that it was going to try several new swim starts at Ironman races, beginning with IM- CDA.  In the past, the swim start has been a mass beach start.  So imagine 2500 athletes flooding into the water at the same time.  Chaos.  Having raced CDA twice before- this swim ranks amongst my slowest swim times.  This year, they were doing what I call a 'streaming start'.  So we still lined up on the beach, though this time we were in corrals that corresponded to our estimated finish time.  Once the cannon went off, at 6:35 am, everyone filed out of the corral under the inflatable banner, and into the lake.  Having the funnel effect limited the number of people diving into the water at one time which significantly reduced congestion. 

I lined up in the 60-75 minute corral and from the minute I hit the water I had space.  I was able to swim my own race the entire 2.4 miles.  And I loved every second of it.  I don't have issues in lakes at Arizona, Wisconsin, or Texas.  I'm not sure it it's more spread out because of the in water start, but I've never had problems finding space at these races.  Unlike my past experiences at CDA where I was getting beat up for at least 15 minutes.

Ironman CDA Swim
 

The only problem I ran into, which is relatively minor, was that I caught the slower swimmers by the time I reached the first turn buoy in lap 2.  So for the final 1/2- 3/4 mile of the swim I had to pay attention and sight a little more frequently to avoid getting a swift kick in the ribs by a breast-stroker.  As long as I saw them in advance, I'd redirect my route slightly and sail on past.  A couple of times they seemed to appear out of nowhere and I had to halt my stroke to avoid the heel-to-gut move.  And getting out of the water provided a teensy bit of confusion as the second lap folks were in a hurry to get to transition, while the first lap folks seemed a bit dazed and were a little slower about pulling themselves out of the water to run under the inflatable to start lap 2.  Despite the confusion (all minor), I'd take the rolling start any day.   

Swim:  1:01:51  

On to the bike!  Having driven the bike course the day before, I knew what to expect out there.  Tough climbs.  Really tough climbs.  My training was not where I had hoped it would be due to an illness at the beginning of the year that delayed my training by 8 weeks.  I got some good rides in before IM Texas (5 weeks previous) and another 80 miler between Texas and CDA, but I didn't have much in the way of hill training.  Mostly I recovered, got some good rest and felt fantastic the few days leading up to the race. 

I took the bike course very easy.  My goal was to stay comfortable as much as possible, not push the pace one bit.  The out and back section was about 16 miles, with 40 miles of climbs on the highway.  We repeated each section twice for the bike segment.  The first loop I cruised through the out and back in town and was eager to get out on the highway and experience the hills first hand.  

Ironman CDA Bike

The first climb was about a mile and a half, very steep, followed by a smokin' fast downhill.  The second climb was much more gradual, much longer.  It climbed for a while, then plateaued, then climbed, then plateaued.  By the time we hit the 3rd plateau, we cruised for a mile or so to the turnaround and then enjoyed some nice long downhill.  While my legs didn't feel overly taxed during the climbs, I did have trouble taking in nutrition because I was breathing so heavily.  It's hard to chew and breathe at the same time! 

Once I turned around to head back down, I ate a bonk breaker, hoping to replenish a few calories on the way back to town.  I loved the downhills.  This is something that I had to really practice at and thankfully over the last couple of years I've become a much better descender.  People would pass me on the uphills as I sat pedalling in my granny gear, but on the downhills I flew by them.  I saw people coasting.  I saw people sitting up.  I saw people breaking.  I got aero, threw it in my hardest gear and hauled ass.  And all those people who passed me were now behind me again. 

At this point, 60 miles into the bike ride, and only 400 calories into my system, I was behind the 8 ball.  It seemed that no matter what, bonk was in my future.  Ironically, I never felt hungry, or that dizzy, sugar-starved hypoglycemia.  I just started to feel really sleepy.  Climbing the hills for the second time, I caught myself almost falling asleep on my bike at mile 80.  I know this is tough to believe, how is that even possible?  But trust me.  My body was in shut down mode, and instead of asking for sugar, it was asking for sleep.  I shook myself awake and started grabbing gels at every aid station.  Hello, energy!

I made the final turn around at mile 91 to head back to transition.  I stopped to pee, took in another gel, and grabbed another one for the road.  I needed energy coming off the bike.  I had hoped for a 6:30 bike split and came into transition just a couple minutes shy of that.  The new bike course is much tougher, with the relentless climbs, but it is not nearly as technical.  And I think mentally, I appreciated the new course.  I was able to break it up in my mind into 4 segments and I always knew exactly where I was on the course (no twists and turns in and out of neighborhoods, etc).  The scenery was amazing.  Once my energy started to pick back up, I really appreciated how great this new bike course was.  I spent the final 20 miles being thankful for the ability to race on such an amazing course with incredible crowd support and volunteers.

Bike 6:27:07

I was in and out of T2 as quickly as possible.  I was ready to test my legs, but wasn't sure where my blood sugar levels were going to stand.  Turns out, I was solid.  My legs felt fantastic.  The run was effortless.  I settled into my pace within 3 miles, and felt like I was on cruise control.  At every aid station I took in a little sip of water and sucked on an orange slice. 

The run course is 2 loops.  At the far end of each loop (mile 6 and mile 20 roughly) there is a pretty decent climb, followed by a descent just before you turn around and head back up the hill.  The rest of the course is pretty flat and run through some amazing neighborhoods in Coeur d'Alene.  CDA has been my favorite course since the first time I finished it in 2008, and I was so excited to be feeling great during the run.  It was a celebration!

Ironman CDA Run

The second loop was a little tougher.  My sugar levels were dipping again, and I had to stay on top of eating more at each aid station.  I took in gels which were instant energy.  On the final climb, I did power hike because I had taken in a good bit of food and fluid at the aid station just before it and I was hoping to give my gut a chance to digest before I powered the final 6 miles.  This tactic seemed to work and by the time I reached the final 4 miles I was cruising pretty well again.

My husband, who had been out on course spectating and cheering all day, was on the run course snapping photos and ringing his cow bell.  That morning, across the country in Iowa, my nephew (who is 7) ran his first 5k.  I had asked my sister to text my husband with his finish time, to give me a boost out on course.  With 5k to go, my husband told me he had some good news for me.  My nephew had run a 31 minute 5k!  He told me my task was to match his pace for the final 5k of my Ironman.  I accepted that challenge and picked up the pace a little bit, no longer walking through the aid stations. 

Run 4:25:22

I finished Ironman Coeur d'Alene feeling strong.  Feeling like I had raced within my comfort zone, within my limits.  I know I could have gone a lot harder, which is a great feeling knowing my 'A' race is still 20 weeks away.  I was extremely proud of my run.  This was only my second time breaking 4:30 at Ironman, and I did it without struggle.  I am now looking forward, with confidence, to my next 20 weeks of training and preparation. 

The Finish:  12:01:55

After the race, I didn't feel much like eating so I just grabbed a cup full of grapes and a soda.  I soaked my legs in the lake, which wasn't nearly cold enough, but still felt good.  We dropped my bike off to TriBike Transport and loaded the rest of my gear up to head back to the hotel.  After a shower and change into non-smelly clothes we went back to the finish line just in time to see our friend MC finish.  I drove through DQ for the obligatory cheeseburger and chocolate shake, but I saved my celebratory beer for lunch on Monday before we flew back home.

Enjoying the post race glow!

I love Coeur d'Alene.  I love the town.  I love the hills.  I love the race.  This will always hold a special place in my heart, and I know someday I'll be back to do it again.

Spades

Let's be honest here and call it what it is. 

D.N.F.

You might say, "did nothing fatal."  But a spade is a spade.  I "did not finish."  Again.  On the same course. 

I have never quit a race, ever, except for the PF Chang's Rock and Roll Arizona Marathon.  Twice. 

Those of you who knew me 3 years ago probably remember how devastated I was after that DNF.  (See:  http://runnerchick-skirtgirl.blogspot.com/2009/01/when-life-gives-you-lemonsmake.html)  I developed a hip flexor strain 2 weeks before the marathon and dealt with the pain for 19 miles.  When the 3:40 group passed me (my goal had been to qualify for Boston for the first time) I elected to drop out and try again once I was healthy.  I enrolled in physical therapy.  6 weeks later, I qualified for Boston at the Napa Valley Marathon.  It was a smart decision but I cried for days.  I was heart broken.  I had worked so hard for so long with a singular focus.  I can feel the pain (in my heart) today as sharply as I felt it 3 years ago.

This time around, it was almost comical.  Almost.  It became almost a joke that I've lived here for 7 years and never ran the marathon.  (I actually did run with a friend one year... but I was running her pace, not mine.  She's come a long way since then, but we were moving pretty slowly.)

I was doing great.  I was trail running all year and became so strong.  I ran PR's in all my tune up races and I knew I was on track to run a PR marathon.  Until October when my world turned upside down.  I no longer had the luxury of time.  Valuable time needed for track workouts, long runs.  My weeks were all over the board.  If I was lucky I had a 50 mile week.  But that would be followed by several weeks where I struggled to find time to hit 20 miles.  The bottom line is, I wasn't prepared.

I didn't give up on my goal, however.  I decided that I would go out at goal pace and see what happened.  I told myself I'd be happy with my time no matter what it was.  But secretly, I had a BIG goal in mind. 

I went out strong and held a 7:45 pace.  Consistent mile after mile after mile.  I have never paced myself so well.  It was beautiful.  I passed the half way mark in 1:42, exactly on target.  And then, out of nowhere, my left leg gave out from underneath me.  Keep in mind that my feet are on the ground for a matter of seconds during each stride.  One stride I am fine.  The next stride, my left foot hits the ground and my knee gives out and my leg can't hold me up.  I nearly fell but caught myself.  I stood back up and tried to run, but couldn't.  I physically could. not. run. 

It wasn't a matter of 'being smart' and 'listening to my body'.  I could not run.  It wasn't like I was tired and fatigued and could push through the pain.  I could not run.  And there was no way in hell I was walking the last 13 miles.  No offense is meant to anyone who walks during a marathon, or walks an entire marathon.  However, I have finished enough marathons and today wasn't about just finishing. 

After I dropped out I had to hang out at the medical tent on course for about an hour or so waiting for the shuttle to pick me up.  I got to cheer on all my friends out on the course.  I loved seeing their smiling faces and even a little struggle as they endured.  I am envious. 

I'll be back to rehab this week to figure out what the deal is.  My suspicion is this:  my body does best with consistency.  This is why I consistently train year round.  I may take an off season and focus more on base and less on mileage/ speed, but I am active year round.  After October, my activity level significantly decreased to the point where everything began to tighten up.  No matter how much I stretched or foam rolled, my muscles were just big knots.  When your muscles tighten up, they put strain on tissues.  I believe that all of this is a minor setback related to my muscles being tight.  I need a massage. 

I tell myself that it's no big deal.  And it's not really.  Though the lump in my throat would indicate that I feel otherwise.  I'm disappointed.  But this doesn't impact who I am as an athlete.  I have not lost my confidence or my passion or my drive.  I have a completely full schedule this spring and summer.  I would love to say there will be time to squeeze in another marathon.  And maybe there will be.  But there might not be and then I will have to say goodbye to my dream of going back to Boston next year. 

After I made it back to the finish line, I found my husband, my cousin and his GF in the VIP tent.  We hung out for a bit and warmed up, refueled.  We watched the clock and when it got close to time, we went out to the last stretch to watch our friends come through.  My good friend, who only started running a year ago, ran her first marathon.  It was the perfect counter to my day, to watch her come through, smiling all the way.  She rocked the Rock n Roll in 4:42, and loved every mile.  Her positive attitude is the key to her success and I have no doubt that she'll be back for more.  I feel honored to have trained with her and watched her blossom.  She inspires me to continue to be passionate and love running simply for the gift that it is.