Ironman Texas: (Un)lucky Number 13

The Swim

Game plan:  Take it out with the strongest 500 I can manage, get rid of the riffraff and then settle into a strong, steady pace.

What actually happened:
Despite the fact that I am a decent swimmer, I do not love mass swim starts.  I don't like chaos.  I don't like drowning.  I don't like being beaten and punched in the face by men who weigh twice as much as me.  I just don't.  And I'm not going to apologize for that.  I don't think it makes me "less of an Ironman" that I prefer the rolling swim start.

As much as I wanted to get right up front and try to grab some good feet, I knew I would not be comfortable with this.  I lined up to the far right, with a straight shot to the turn buoy.  I thought I was far enough right... until the cannon went off.  Then everyone who had been standing on the shoreline jumped in on top of me.  Within 2 minutes I was in full blown panic mode.  My first thought was "Oh my god! I am the riffraff!"  And my next thought was "Get me the fuck out of here!"  I made a 90 degree turn, swam over the top of everyone who were in full on washing machine mode, and got to the outside.  The real outside this time.  And I resumed my swim.

Once I had free water, I put my head down and went to work.  Strong, steady pace.  When needed, I would pick it up for a few minutes.  Like when I had 2 guys zig-zagging across my space.  Repeatedly.  I needed to put them in my wake cause they were pissing me off.  Mission accomplished.

About half way through the swim I noticed a pain in my stomach.  I thought maybe it was because I was working at a higher effort level than I normally do in the swim.  I hoped it would go away once I got out of the water and into a rhythm on the bike.  I found myself feeling strong throughout the swim.  As I approached the final few buoys, I remember thinking that I wasn't the least bit sore in my shoulders.  All my paddle-buoy-band work in the pool was paying off!

View of the swim exit.  Ironman Texas 2014.

When I stood up out of the water my watch read 59:30.  YES!!! I shouted.  Out loud.  And then I ran as fast as I could through transition because the timing mat is not at the swim exit and I wanted my first sub-hour swim in the record books!

Official swim time:  59:52

The Bike

Game plan:  Ride comfortably uncomfortable in the first half, then take the effort level up in the second half.  (There were several more instructions with regards to nutrition and pacing, but I have no intention to share all my secrets!)  

What actually happened:
I dashed through transition and got out onto the bike course quickly (T1= 3:16).  I didn't take anything in for the first 10 miles or so other than a few sips of water, but I realized pretty quickly that my stabbing gut pain was not going anywhere.  In fact, tucked in my aero position, it was worse.  My legs felt strong, but as the miles added up and my energy level went down, I gradually lost power and speed.

My husband and my TriScottsdale teammate, AF, passed me at about 30 miles into the bike.  Even at that early stage I was in a world of hurt.  Each one cheered me on as they passed me and tried to get me to stay with them (at legal distance), but it was to no avail.  I simply had no ability to respond.

Over the course of 70 miles I tried everything in my bags of tricks, but nothing was absorbing from my stomach.  I tried electrolyte drinks.  I tried plain water.  I tried salt capsules.  I tried gels.  I tried nothing at all.  It didn't matter what I did, the pain didn't budge.  ***TMI ALERT!!***  I was burping and farting so I kept thinking there was potential that this problem would resolve.  No such luck.

Out for a pre-race tour of the run course.

The final 40 miles were the most excruciating hours of my life.  I just wanted to be off my bike.  I really wanted to be lying on the side of the road taking a dirt nap.  I could tell that between the wind and the warm temps, and my inability to absorb anything I was extremely dehydrated and hypoglycemic.  How I was able to hold it together mentally I don't know, but my coach's words continued to run through my head and I tried to do all the things I was supposed to do.  It was almost comical how hard I was working mentally in the game and how slow I was going physically.

I rolled into T2 and handed off my bike to a volunteer, and promptly started crying.  I think the emotional release was a combination of relief to be safely off the bike, the enduring pain in my stomach, and the realization that I had a very long 26.2 miles ahead of me.  I walked through transition, gathered my gear bag and headed into the change tent.

Official bike time:  5:45:54

My friend, MT, was volunteering in T2 and she helped me get all my bike stuff off and run stuff on.  When I was ready to go I didn't stand up.  Instead I began sobbing.  Huge tears rolled down my cheeks as she tried to console me.  She rubbed my legs and encouraged me to get out there and see what happened.  She said that not many people had come through T2 yet, and a lot of people had similar issues.  Another volunteer must have thought there was something physically wrong as she kept interrupting us.  What's your name?  What's wrong?  What is your NAME?  I ignored the inquiry and just kept listening to MT's soothing voice and eventually stood up and made my way out of transition.  (T2= 7:26)

The Run

Game plan:  Get off that bike and run your Ironman pace, one mile at a time.

What actually happened:
I am actually amazed that I held it together for as long as I did on the run.  For some reason, I can handle gut issues better on the run, maybe because I'm in an upright position.  Maybe because I can eat a bean burrito in training and then go out for a long run.  Whatever, the reason, I was happy to be on my feet and off of the damn bike.

I knew I was dehydrated and low on sugar.  At each aid station I walked to make sure I could maximize my intake potential.  I drank cups of Perform and sipped on water and ice.  I was carrying my Honey Stinger gels which were a lifesaver.  Thankfully it was not hot out as I can only imagine the added strain this would have put on my already depleted body.  I managed to run most of the first loop, approximately 9 miles, albeit slowly.

At the start of the second loop I was feeling dizzy and progressively weaker.  I found myself needing to walk more and just not altogether mentally clear.  Just after mile 11, I saw a friend in a TriScottsdale kit lying on the ground and a man was leaning over him.  I walked over, recognized my teammate (AF) and asked him if he wanted to walk with me.  He got up and we walked on.  Relentless forward progress.

AF was having his own struggle, but I was thankful to have someone with me, talking to me.  At some point I stopped being able to respond to his conversation.  I was having a hard time coming up with words in my head and what did come out sounded a little bit slurred.  I know that had I not been with AF at that moment, I would have eventually passed out on the course and the medical volunteers would have hauled me off the course with IV's in both arms, I was in that deep of a well physically.  I remember somewhere around mile 13 or so, he very clearly ordered me to take an entire bottle of Perform from the aid station and drink the whole thing.  I followed orders and within a mile my head was a little bit clearer.  I grabbed another bottle of Perform and drank it down.  By now we were nearing the end of loop 2.

The run course at night.  IM Texas has the BEST run course!

We formulated a run/ walk plan for the final loop.  He set the pace running at a decent clip for 5 minutes, and then I set the pace power walking for 10 minutes.  We covered ground quite quickly with this method averaging about 11 minutes per mile.  With about 4 miles to go, AF needed a break from the power walk and I was ready to be done.  I ran, this time at my own much slower running pace.  I continued to walk through aid stations to drink Perform as I was no where near recovered, but moving at about a 10 minute pace I was able to keep running.

I have never been so happy to see a finish line in my life.  At 12 hours, 26 minutes, and 13 seconds I raised my hands over my head in victory.  I finished an amazing 13th in my age group, with a faster time than last year on the same course.

The Aftermath

DNF is not found in my coach's vocabulary.  And after my failure at St. George in 2012, it was not an option for me.  I knew that no matter how long it took me, I was going to get to that finish line.  I was happy to be able to run as much as I did because I HATE walking at Ironman.  (Absolutely no offense to anyone who chooses to walk the marathon, I prefer to run it.)

After finishing I sat down in a chair to wait for AF, who was about a mile behind me, hoping to have a photo taken together.  After sitting for a few minutes I began having trouble catching my breath.  My husband was nearby talking with some friends and they began to notice my distress.  A medical volunteer came over and asked me if I wanted to go to medical.  Initially I declined, but then my breathing worsened and I grabbed her elbow and asked for her help.  I told her that I have had a very rare episode of asthma and I believed that was the problem.  She offered to grab a wheelchair, but I explained that sometimes if I walk it gets better.  She held onto my arm as my husband led the way, parting the sea of finishers and family members.  Once into medical they sent me immediately to the treatment area bypassing dozens of athletes waiting to be evaluated.  Apparently not being able to breathe takes priority over nausea and dehydration!

The medical volunteers were wonderful.  Friendly, attentive, and reassuring.  By the time I got into the medical tent my breathing was improved by my airways still felt tight.  The administered albuterol via nebulizer to open my airways.  After about 15 minutes of breathing the steroid-laced oxygen they released me to resume my post race ritual.

Since finishing a mere 4 days ago and returning to normal life, I've had time to reflect on the race and speak with my coach and another mentor.  I believe I have identified the main source of my nutritional problem on race day and am actively taking measures to ensure that it does not happen again.

Gratitude

Ironman is not a solo endeavor and there is no way I could do what I do without the support and help of a huge team of people.

Huge thank you to my coach, Hillary Biscay.  I am so thankful to be working with you and every single day I am reminded of how brilliant you are.  I see the fruits of your genius daily, even in my recovery process.  Thanks for taking a chance on me!  Thank you to Team HPB for cyber-cheering all day!  You inspire me every day with your hard work!  Special thanks to CH and MR, my local counterparts who push me daily in training and check in with me to make sure I'm alive and thriving!

Thank you to my team, TriScottsdale.  I love training and racing side by side with people who work hard, play hard, and love this sport as much as I do.  Special thanks to AF, without whom my race would have ended at mile 128.2.  I promise you that someday we will #FindKona!  I am proud to wear the colors of TriScottsdale and bask in the tons of on-course support I receive on race day!

Thank you to Paraic McGlynn and his team at Cyclologic.  Thanks to your knowledge and skill I am not only comfortable, but faster and stronger than ever on my bike.  Even though you have entire teams of professional cyclists to look after, I know that you are invested in my success because you were the first one to call and ask the tough question:  "What went wrong?"  Your effort is appreciated!

Thank you to Nate Snell and his team at Endurance Rehab.  Simply put, I would not be biking or running at all if it weren't for you.  Your weekly attention to my musculoskeletal weaknesses has allowed me to continue to do the things that I love.  You guys are the best!

Thank you to my husband.  You have put up with a lot over the years, and even more since my work load increased on January 1.  Your consistent belief in me and love means the world and #findingkona would mean half as much without you by my side.

Hard won medal.  Ironman Texas 2014.

Final thoughts

For those of you who are numbers people.  This was my 13th Ironman.  My bib was 481 (4+8+1= 13).  I finished 13th in my age group.  I'm not really superstitious, but there was no way I was quitting and having to repeat my battle against the number 13 again!!  They say everything's bigger in Texas... including my epic race disaster.  I could not be more proud of gutting it out.  As AF reminded me, to walk away and quit because things get tough is stuck up.  It's like saying "I'm too good for this."  And that is definitely not me.  No matter how bad things got, I knew I would be happy to have that medal and to have learned a great deal in the process.  You can't buy that sort of education.  

I keep reminding myself (and sometimes those around me) that this is a process.  When I signed on with Hillary, I signed on with knowledge that I have the potential to reach my goal and an enormous amount of work ahead to accomplish it.  I am not limiting myself in this process and understand that it may be years of consistency in training to get where I want to go.  In the 5 months since we have been working together I have made huge gains and I am so excited to continue the process.  This will not be an easy task but I am up for the challenge.  The dream is alive and it's time to get back to work!            

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.

Everything's Bigger in Texas: Ironman Edition!

On Friday night, I texted my dad with the link to where he could track me on Saturday, along with the comment, "I'm hoping to finish in 12:30 or so."  I told someone else at the athlete dinner on Thursday night, "top 20."  So with little formality, and not a lot of thought, I laid out my plan for Ironman Texas.  Yee-Haw! 

The Swim
This was my first non-wetsuit swim in an Ironman event.  And actually I've only done two open water long distance swims (ie: greater than 4k) without a wetsuit.  So I had a lot of anxiety about how I was going to fare in the waters of Lake Woodlands.  As always, I lined up in the front on the outside (away from the buoys).

Standing in the water prior to the start I was shaking.  My husband rubbed my arms trying to warm me up, and I didn't have the heart to tell him I wasn't cold.  I was terrified.  Those 20 minutes are absolute torture waiting for the cannon to go off.   Once the start was signaled and we began swimming, I was in my element and felt completely at ease.  Magically all of my fears and anxieties fell to the bottom of the lake and I just put my head down and swam.  Swam like I do every day.

The swim is a point to point swim, with 3 nearly equal distance legs.  For the first leg, I thought 'just keep swimming, swim swim swimming' until I got free from the pack and settled into a rhythm.  Then I began to recite my mantra from Arizona, 'I am a strong swimmer.'  I. Am. A strong. Swimmer.  With each stroke and each pull of my arm through the water.  I became stronger.

After the first turn, the pack had thinned but I maintained my position on the outside.  The water was more choppy but I continued to feel strong.  Soon, we made the final turn into the canal.  The last leg of the swim was approximately 1000 meters down a canal which was maybe 15-20 feet wide.  Because it was so narrow and there were many bodies churning through the water it was a washing machine.  I sighted every so often waiting and waiting to see the transition area come into view.  It felt like FOREVER before the white tents finally appeared on the horizon. 

Ironman Texas 2013:  Swim exit

 

I got out of the water and the official clock read 1:23.  This was about 20 minutes slower than my normal swim but I was thrilled.  I had felt strong throughout and knew I would be a little slower without the wetsuit.  What I didn't realize until hours after I had finished and showered and eaten my post- race meal was that I had actually swum a 1:12:18.  The clock at the swim exit was still set from the pro start- about 10 minutes before us! 

I took my time in transition, making sure I applied sunscreen and had everything together for my bike ride through the Texas countryside. 

T1 4:20

The Bike
The Texas course is often described by locals as rolling hills.  Being from Iowa, and having ridden RAGBRAI twice, I was sort of expecting rolling hills.  (Sidebar:  anyone who thinks that Iowa is flat, I invite you to sign up for RAGBRAI.  But please don't say I didn't warn you.)  But as we drove the bike course on Friday, I realized that, in fact, there were no hills, just a gradual sloping of the road. 

On race day, there was no free speed.  I was constantly working for 112 miles.  I was happy to have a single loop bike course on mostly fantastic road surface.  I took it out of transition very easy and maintained my easy pace throughout.  I told myself, once I hit 80 miles I could pick it up.  By the time 80 miles rolled around I was happy to have paced myself so well as I had energy to spare in the final 30 miles of the bike. 

Ironman Texas 2013:  Bike course

I encountered a few minor annoyances during the bike ride.  The first presented as an inability to process fluids and calories.  Everything I ate sat in my stomach for 112 miles (and then another 26.2...).  I never felt nauseated, just full and sloshy.  I tried changing things up.  Taking in more salt.  Taking in less salt.  Taking in more calories.  Different calories.  Less calories.  Nothing helped.  I feel that the heat and humidity were somehow tied to this problem, and maybe I was just dehydrated but I just couldn't get out of this place. 

Eventually my nutritional issues led to cramping of my adductor muscles.  Thankfully, it was not severe and as soon as I felt the cramping come on, I took in more electrolytes and shifted to a lower gear.  It never progressed to the point where I had to stop and stretch, I was able to manage everything to the transition area and even pushed the pace a bit in the final 20 miles. 

The one annoyance that I couldn't control were the "big guys" who would pass me on a downgrade and then start coasting.  As I mentioned before, there was no free speed on this course.  So there really was no place that you could coast and maintain your pace.  This meant that these guys would go by me, and then slow down.  Some even slowed so much that I actually had to hit my brakes to avoid colliding with them as I have to drop back to legal distance before I can pass them again.  Over and over and over again this would happen.  I know if I had been racing the bike course as I did at Arizona last year this would not have been an issue.  But that wasn't my goal for Texas so I had to just deal with it.  I managed to take it in stride and maintain my happy-to-be-here attitude for the entirety of the bike course, but I was happy to see T2. 

Bike 5:58:07.

I rolled into T2, and a good friend was camped out inside the tent.  I asked her if she wanted to walk with me, and she declined saying that her knee was hurting and she was dropping out to avoid further injury as IM AZ is her goal race for the year.  She helped me gear up for the run and gave me some words of encouragement.  I took some time to apply more sunscreen and drank a little water.  I hoped that by sitting for a few minutes my stomach would empty a little. 

T2 7:23

The Run
I loved the run course at Texas.  I know this might categorize me as crazy, or in need of mental help, but it was truly a fantastic course.  As a 3 loop course, there was so much entertainment and hundreds of spectators on course to keep us distracted and motivated.  The aid stations were wonderful. 

The course starts out circling through the woods back to the park where the swim started.  Then we continued through the woods alternating between paved bike path and a lane of the road.  The woods provided some much appreciated shade and protection from the blistering sun.  The middle couple of miles we looped through the most gorgeous neighborhood.  Every singe home was like a plantation.  Huge.  Southern.  Regal.  Beautiful.  It was wonderful to look at and so much fun.  Then we went through the woods briefly again and ended up on the path that circled the canal where we finished the swim.  This stretch was long, hot, and exposed but the sheer number of people screaming and cheering kept me smiling and moving forward. 

Checking out the run course prior to race day.  Beautiful!!

Throughout the run course I had to manage my fluids and calories, just working my way from one aid station to the next.  I was thankful to have brought along a bandanna which I filled with ice and alternated tying it around my neck or my head.  The ice would slowly melt and keep me cool.  I never felt overly hot, just occasionally weak when my blood sugar would drop.  I had a hard time eating on the run because nothing sounded good.  Usually I can take in a little solid food, or keep eating gels and I'm fine.  But with the humidity playing tricks on me, I had to force myself to eat anything at all.  I nearly did a cartwheel when I rolled into an aid station and was offered salted watermelon.  Yes, please! 

As afternoon turned into evening, the sun began to dip lower in the sky.  The temperatures dropped ever so slightly and the aid stations brought out the chicken broth.  By the third loop, I could feel the finish line and with 5 miles to go, I was already celebrating.  I teared up a couple of times thinking about what an amazing day it had been and how happy I was to be nearly done.  My last 4 miles were the fastest of the day as I ran with the hugest grin on my face.  I was about to be done with my 9th Ironman race. 

I had entered this race with a lot of trepidation and anxiety.  I didn't feel ready physically or prepared mentally for the challenge.  What I realized is that without expectation, I freed myself to enjoy every second of the race despite the challenges.  I never had a negative thought.  I never became discouraged even when I believed I swam a 1:23 or had to walk more than I would have liked to.  I allowed myself to race for the simple pleasure of Ironman.  It was a celebration of my strength and health and all the work I've done over the last 6 years.

I crossed the finish line in 12:33:04 with my arms in the air and joy written across my face.  It was the perfect start to my Year of Ironman.

Post Race
After the finish, I wandered into the athlete area and found my husband who had just emerged from the medical tent.  We went through the food line, but I just couldn't think of stomaching the burritos that were offered.  I drank a chocolate milk and then suggested we head off to collect our gear before my hour window was up and I was starving.  (It generally takes me about an hour after finishing to feel up to eating.)  With my medal around my neck, and a smile still plastered on my face we walked the quarter mile or so back to transition to collect our things.  We loaded everything into our car, parked in a garage across the street, and drove our bikes back to the finish line where we turned them over to TriBike Transport.  And then we left in search of the nearest drive through chocolate shake!  We made our first ever trip to Jack in the Box where we had burger, fries and shakes.  With a full belly, we relaxed on the bed and watched movies waiting for sleep to overwhelm us.

Ironman #9 in the books!

Thoughts on IM Texas
Though I wish IM Texas were in March or April, I truly loved this race.  It was well organized, well supported by the community and such a beautiful venue.  I'm already registered for next year!
There is something to be said for southern hospitality and I will never tire of hearing 'Y'all are doing awesome!'  They could probably swear at me with a southern drawl and I'd giggle.  The food at the pre and post race banquet was amazing.  So if you're on the fence about Texas, take a leap of faith.  Y'all will be happy you did!