The swim was amazing. I had my fancy BlueSeventy Fusion women's wetsuit on. I was nervous about racing in my suit I hadn't really practice a lot in the water with it, but I figured as long as the sleeves were up on shoulders high enough to prevent downward pressure and shoulder and arm fatigue, I'd be good. I entered the water around 7:29 a.m., just as an elite male from the first heat was leaving the water. Yeah, he swam 1.25 miles in less than 30 minutes. Wow. I was shooting for an hour. I swam freestyle just about the whole way. I only had to switch to back float (tickle-t-touch) and side stroke twice to allow for some weed removal. Yeah, this was a weedy lake. The last 400 yards or so was the weediest swim I've ever experienced in my life. I couldn't even follow through with a full stroke without hitting weeds with my hands and feeling them pull at my hands and feet. However, and for those of you who know me know that this is a big deal, I did not panic or scream about the weeds. I did complain aloud indirectly to the DNR/sheriff in the boat, though, like he could do anything about it. I am so uncomfortable in the open water due to my unfounded fear of the murky and unknown creatures that I KNOW are there. But, I was uncharacteristically calm and focused during this swim, with very few breaks in my stroke and flow of the swim. I exited the water 51 minutes after I started. I have never swam that distance that fast in my life. The wet suit definitely helped reduce the drag I normally deal with in the pool sans suit. Thank you, BlueSeventy, for your amazing suit. I by-passed the wetsuit strippers (not those kinds of strippers) and opted to pull my own suit off at my leisure as I headed up the hill to transition one. Thank you, race organizers, for a ridiculous hill after a swim. What better way to warm up for a 56 mile bike, right?
I took my time in Transition One, about six minutes. That's unheard of for the pro's but I wanted to make sure I would not cramp up or crash and burn on this bike ride. I ate a cherry lime Roctane GU, drank some lemon lime GU Brew, ate a banana, and double checked my bento bag to make sure my fuel for the ride was ready. After a bit of stretching, sunscreen reapplication, and friendly banter with the first-time triathletes next to me (who happened to kick my butt off the swim), I was off. My Specialized Dolce road bike and I were riding our longest ride ever. The longest training ride I had up until race day was 38 miles. The highest mileage week I had for road bike miles was about 60 miles or so. It wasn't my plan to do that but due to my training schedule, injury, and life, it just happened to work out that way.Would I recommend that to someone who's hoping to race in a triathlon this distance? No. I wanted to ride 50 miles twice a week during training. It just didn't happen for me and I wasn't willing to risk injury just to hit what I thought was the "magic" number. I focused on getting on the bike three times a week, for whatever miles I could get in.
My official bike time was 3:56:34.5, averaging a pace of 14.2 miles per hour. I was happy with that. Well, I thought I was. For some reason, I cry after my bike ride, this being the second big race I've cried off the bike (Oly tri last summer being the first). I think it was just the emotion of the event, seeing my family and friends who traveled to see me race and to cheer me on, me knowing that the hardest part was behind me. I thought maybe I was one of the last bikers, even though I passed a few bikers on the course right at the end. I sat down by my bike in the transition area and cried. I tried to eat and drink while I cried and laced up my running shoes. My trusty Saucony ProGrid Triumph 9's. My friends and family asked if I was okay from just outside the transition area. A medical personnel came over to check on me. I said I was spent from the ride, a little hot, and that I'm a crier. She said "You're not doing the run, are you?" I stopped crying, looked at her, and said "Oh, yes I am." She looked a tad concerned but sent over an EMT with some ice which helped cool me down and re-focus on what was ahead of me. 13.1 miles. I was so close. No way was I going to quit. I wasn't injured, sick, or unable to continue. I was going to endure and keep going. Period. After a transition two time of 7:43:5, I was on my way.
My family and friends took the time to see me as often as possible on the run. I was so happy to see them during the last leg of my half iron journey. The run has usually been my strong point in triathlons. I came out fast, on pace, and strong for the first few miles. I wanted to do a two-hour, thirty minute half. But, running during the peak of the July heat and humidity was hard. I had trained some in the same type of weather but it's never the same as race day. Ever. Not for me. I stopped at all the water stops, got iced down, hosed down, and drank whatever they had. I asked my husband for some Powerade Zero around mile three. I carried this bottle with me the rest of the race, filing it with water as I went. I managed just fine until about mile six. I hadn't put on my hydration belt in transition two as I was prepared to run to each water stop. I hadn't grabbed my inhaler either as I was in a rush and overwhelmed. This proved to be a bit of a downfall for me on the run. I, for about 30 seconds, contemplated walking to the previous water stop and asking for a ride back to the start, which would mean a DNF (did not finish). My heart rate was high, my ability to take deep breaths was impeded by the heat, an asthma issue, and/or perhaps the onset of heat exhaustion. I don't know exactly what came over me at that point but I stopped. I stopped moving. I wanted to quit. After a couple of minutes of slow breathing and staying in the shade, I walked to mile seven. I decided to walk all the remaining up hill portions of the run and any other times as needed. Thankfully, the dedicated volunteers and some amazing people that lived along the run route had ice (a life saver in this heat) and sprinklers set out, pushing out cold water that provided some relief and encouragement to continue on. I was a dripping mess by mile 10 but I was still moving. Slower than I anticipated but I was still moving forward. I saw my husband at mile 10 and he cheered me on while driving to gather the remaining spectators to cheer me across the finish. The tears started right before the finish line. I held those back while the announcer called me in and smiled while giving high-fives to my personal cheering section who had gathered along the final stretch of the run, just before the finish.
After a 3:03:12 run, I crossed the finish line. A total of 8:05:19.5 and I was an iron woman. I finished. I endured and completed a race that was a culmination of over two years of biking, swimming, and running. I hugged my son, my husband, my friends, and hopped in the ice down pool where I sat next to a 64 year old man who has run this race four times. What an inspiration. I was extremely humbled and appreciative of what I had just achieved. I ran a half marathon in the same time I ran my first ever race of that distance and this was after a 56 mile bike. I swam a whole 10 minutes faster than I had anticipated. I had biked faster than I was aiming for. I may not have met my anticipated finish time but I finished. I did not quit. The heavy medal I wore around my neck is, and will always be, one of my most treasured. I cannot even express how rich and blessed I feel for not only finishing this race, but for having the opportunity and ability to get out and race, to run, bike and swim. I get to do something I love while my cheering section and sponsors stand behind me, rooting me on from wherever they may be. I may have been the only person wearing bib number 610 at the Chisago City Half Iron Man, but my entire team is just as much a half iron finisher as I am.
I am Iron (wo) Man.
Keep on movin'
Iron Mike :-)
