I led a pretty normal life until three weeks ago. When I was preliminarily diagnosed with MS I had the decision to sit around and feel sorry for myself and all the limitations I might have or to keep on living. I decided to keep on living. No time was like the present to check my goals off my life list. One of those goals was a half Ironman Triathlon. That is a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike ride, and 13.1 mile run. (They call this a “70.3” because that is the mileage count for the entire thing.) I had it all planned out for a six year span. I would do two years Sprint distance, two years Olympic, one year Half Ironman, and the next year the big one, a Full Ironman. The goal was to do better at each distance the second time around to show I was growing as an athlete. I did not want to do the distances too fast. I thought, “If I do a full Ironman Triathlon next year, what could I ever do to trump that?” It left open all the excitement and challenge the next stage of racing had to offer.
When I got the diagnosis I got a feeling of confusion. Since people progress differently and symptoms can happen suddenly, what could I experience? I decided while I’m young and am at the beginning, I would do a Half Ironman Triathlon before the doctor tells me “no.” I was scheduled for a race October 18th, but a specialist is being flown in to examine me and I can’t race and make my Dr’s appointment. My health comes first, so I bumped my race date to September 28th only a week and a half from the day I made the decision to do the Half Ironman.
Forrest Gump had a wise mother who said that famous, “Life is like a box of chocolates.” I also have a very wise mother. My mother’s wisdom still guides me to this day. Her words are, “Its mind over matter. If you don’t have a mind, it doesn’t matter.” Lets do this!
The only issue was being properly trained. You don’t go and run a half marathon when you can only run the distance of a 10K. You need to know what to expect from your body and your body needs to know what it can expect from you. Despite doing a marathon and century ride recently, it is a whole different experience putting them back to back.
I got out the old trisuit a weekend before my race. I had run 17 miles combined over two days and went out for a 30 mile bike ride. I had been 25 pounds heavier when I was last in that trisuit so it was interesting to see where the changes were. In the past I always thought I had a pear shape figure, but I’m turning into more of a boy shape. With this last weight loss I just lost my butt. There was just extra lose material where my rear end used to be! I guess we’ll call my shape “carrot.” I’ve got wide shoulders and everything narrows in from there. J
Much like the grief process there are the stages of Triathlons. First starts with excitement. You decide what race and distance you are interested on doing and you get to let your mind wonder how great it will be. Next comes planning. You have to figure out how to prepare yourself for race day to meet your goals. Remember a goal without a plan is a dream, not a goal. Next there is experience. You get to follow your plan and have fun playing with it. Something you thought would work well doesn’t, you adjust. You find your weaknesses and exploit them before your competitors do on race day! As your event arrives, usually 48 hours for me, dread sets in. I usually think, “Why did I sign up for this? Am I nuts?” 24 hours before my race I slide into “Let’s get this over with.” On race day, sheer panic! Triathletes are very compulsive people. They want everything to happen exactly as they have envisioned in their mind. That is no small task and it brings a lot of stress and doubt. Once the race starts you get “race vision” which I guess would be your acceptance phase. You are so focused on your goal, you have forgotten everything else.
When I got the diagnosis I got a feeling of confusion. Since people progress differently and symptoms can happen suddenly, what could I experience? I decided while I’m young and am at the beginning, I would do a Half Ironman Triathlon before the doctor tells me “no.” I was scheduled for a race October 18th, but a specialist is being flown in to examine me and I can’t race and make my Dr’s appointment. My health comes first, so I bumped my race date to September 28th only a week and a half from the day I made the decision to do the Half Ironman.
Forrest Gump had a wise mother who said that famous, “Life is like a box of chocolates.” I also have a very wise mother. My mother’s wisdom still guides me to this day. Her words are, “Its mind over matter. If you don’t have a mind, it doesn’t matter.” Lets do this!
The only issue was being properly trained. You don’t go and run a half marathon when you can only run the distance of a 10K. You need to know what to expect from your body and your body needs to know what it can expect from you. Despite doing a marathon and century ride recently, it is a whole different experience putting them back to back.
I got out the old trisuit a weekend before my race. I had run 17 miles combined over two days and went out for a 30 mile bike ride. I had been 25 pounds heavier when I was last in that trisuit so it was interesting to see where the changes were. In the past I always thought I had a pear shape figure, but I’m turning into more of a boy shape. With this last weight loss I just lost my butt. There was just extra lose material where my rear end used to be! I guess we’ll call my shape “carrot.” I’ve got wide shoulders and everything narrows in from there. J
Much like the grief process there are the stages of Triathlons. First starts with excitement. You decide what race and distance you are interested on doing and you get to let your mind wonder how great it will be. Next comes planning. You have to figure out how to prepare yourself for race day to meet your goals. Remember a goal without a plan is a dream, not a goal. Next there is experience. You get to follow your plan and have fun playing with it. Something you thought would work well doesn’t, you adjust. You find your weaknesses and exploit them before your competitors do on race day! As your event arrives, usually 48 hours for me, dread sets in. I usually think, “Why did I sign up for this? Am I nuts?” 24 hours before my race I slide into “Let’s get this over with.” On race day, sheer panic! Triathletes are very compulsive people. They want everything to happen exactly as they have envisioned in their mind. That is no small task and it brings a lot of stress and doubt. Once the race starts you get “race vision” which I guess would be your acceptance phase. You are so focused on your goal, you have forgotten everything else.
I arrived at Boulder Beach which is at Lake Mead. It is a very common place for these Triathlons. I had never done a distance this long before so I have never been on the beach shortly after 5am. It was pitch black. Some of the participants had those head lamps on, mental note on a good idea if I ever do this again. I toted all of my stuff to the transition area to set up for this adventure. The guy on my left, wow. He was friendly and he was in great shape. He had a gorgeous face to go along with it. Of course he didn’t hold a candle to my husband, but I was just admiring all the work he put in to look like that.
During the swim I was reminding myself to keep my elbows up and the little technique things to swim properly. I had to laugh when I started thinking about that movie “Finding Nemo” where Dorothy starts singing to Marlin, “What do we do… We swim, swim, swim…..” Just like Marlin I said, “Oh great! Now I have that song stuck in my head!” The swim went well. I turned around the last bouy and headed for home. I kept my eye on a huge orange ball floating on the water but was trying to figure out my exit point. Using a great landmark for women, I locked my eyes on the bathrooms and decided it was time to turn up the heat. There was this guy next to me who decided to sprint it out with me. Poor guy ended up sucking my bubbles. It is common knowledge that most triathletes pee in the water right before getting out, but I just couldn’t do it. I’m struggling to get my daughter to not be so barbaric and pee in our back yard, so what kind of example would that be?
As I exited the water I saw a clock that read 38 minutes and change. I was pleasantly surprised because I was anticipating 50 minutes. I got out of the water and really did not know how hard to push myself in transition. In a long distance, like this one, those seconds you can save yourself in transition might not matter overall. I decided to take transitions ¾ of what I would normally do. Not waste time but not expend all my energy at full speed. I had counted how many slots it was to my bike and went right to it. I had stripped my wet suit to my waist and pulled it off my left leg no problem. The right leg I had a hang up with, but didn’t struggle for long. I grabbed the Hornet and off we went.
I was really proud of my effort on the bike. I was 15 miles from the finish and out of water. I had a powerbar, but without water I just couldn’t stomach it. My mind was wondering on how good that water from that water stand was going to be. As I came around the final loop to where the water would have been, I was thoroughly disappointed it was not there. I decided to keep on pushing and I would get some water on the run. As I approached the 49 mile mark my throat was so dry I could barely swallow. I didn’t have a drop of saliva in my mouth. By mile 51 I was still pushing hard but ready for the bike to be over. I had predicted a 3 hour 30 minute bike ride and I was dead on. While my torso was tucked over my thighs, peddling was bumping my bladder reminding me a potty break would be a good idea. I pulled into the transition area and told the person I had lost my chip. He said to keep going and let the race director know later. I got off my bike and felt a little sluggish, but that is to be expected. When you run after getting off a bike you feel like you are in slow motion because of the speed difference. I made eye contact with my husband and let him know I needed a pit stop.
My sisters and their friend Timera were standing by what I thought was my transition spot. Without hesitation I race to where they were and looked down to not recognize the stuff. A quick backup two rows did the trick and I switched into my run gear and grabbed my racing chip. I crossed the run mat and darted for the port-a-potties. As I came out several people were yelling at me to give them my chip. I yelled back, “I’m still racing! Mother of two, bladder has taken a beating!”
My sisters and their friend Timera were standing by what I thought was my transition spot. Without hesitation I race to where they were and looked down to not recognize the stuff. A quick backup two rows did the trick and I switched into my run gear and grabbed my racing chip. I crossed the run mat and darted for the port-a-potties. As I came out several people were yelling at me to give them my chip. I yelled back, “I’m still racing! Mother of two, bladder has taken a beating!”
Since this was an open course, Richard was allowed to run with me. I figured he could give me some emotional support and try to push me if I needed it. At the beginning there was ice cold Gatoraid and water. It was like liquid heaven. I was so hot and thirsty. I felt like one of those ants I used to fry with the magnifying lens as a child. Maybe 50-100 yards in I was down to a walk. You have no idea how hard it is to cool down while you run. I walked for the first 2 or 3 miles. Richard would run ahead and get some water for me. We would dump one water on me and I would drink the other one. It was so frustrating. Mentally I wanted to run, but my body just didn’t want to. It is like coaching a player who doesn’t want to play! Nothing hurt, I was just tired and my legs were heavy. I decided to walk and run. We hit all the water stops and I drank like it was my last water stop. Sometimes it takes between 4-7 miles for me to warm up so I was hoping this would be the case. I saw a lot of runners struggling so I didn’t feel so bad. It was a lot hotter than expected and I hadn’t trained outside in the heat of the day, being that I didn’t expect to be doing this event. Part of the course was the historic “6 Tunnels” which was an old rail system hauling supplies to Hoover Dam in the early 30’s. It had amazing views of the lake. There was an unmanned water station with a bottle of Gatoraid behind it. I took a drink to realize it was concentrated and my stomach felt like it had been punched. I chased it with some water and hoped for the best. I started coming out of my slump and running longer portions. The last 4 and half miles I ran the majority of.
One of the mysteries of my symptoms is hearing loss. About 4 miles into the run I lost hearing in the left ear. I have now confirmed it is an exertion thing. Richard said something about, “You really don’t need to hear to run” but he was on my left side. My right started flickering too. Too bad I can’t turn it off and on at my convenience.
I was passed by race volunteers in a truck and offered ice cold water. Ice….Cold… Glorious…. Richard had caught up to me and he isn’t kidding with people calling him “Thunder.” The way his feet pound the pavement you have ample warning he is coming. We got closer and closer to the white tents which were by the finish line. I was tired and glad it was over. I just wanted to get into the shade and down some bottles of ice cold water.
As I crossed the finish line the first thing on my mind was about the racing chip. I mentioned it to the volunteer collecting them and she said, “Sorry, you only get credit for what the chip reads.” I went to find the race director because he could look at the computer on my bike as proof I went the distance and the time it took. I found one of the directors and was trying to fight back the tears when I was telling him what happened. So much was riding on this race counting. He assured me everything would be counted. He said he couldn’t imagine having me out there for 7 hours and not get credit for what I earned. He said it just wouldn’t give me my split times. (Meaning my transition times and my bike time wouldn’t be posted.)
At the end of the day I wanted to complete the Half Ironman in 7 hours or less, but I’ll accept 7:31:01.
I forgot to stretch after my event so my body let me know it was unhappy on the way home. I was having muscle spasms and stabbing pains in my muscles. I was screaming profanities like a woman with turrets for half of the ride home. I suddenly had a craving for pizza on the way home. I had no desire for whole wheat or anything fat free for some reason. After the big race Richard made ribs with Tony Roma’s Carolina Honey Sauce, mashed potatoes, and I made a chocolate cheesecake. I figure no matter what I ate on that day would ever amount to the calories I burned.
Half Ironman…. It hurt like hell….. It was awesome…. Anyone wanting to do a Full Ironman Triathlon needs to have their head examined because that is just crazy!
One of the mysteries of my symptoms is hearing loss. About 4 miles into the run I lost hearing in the left ear. I have now confirmed it is an exertion thing. Richard said something about, “You really don’t need to hear to run” but he was on my left side. My right started flickering too. Too bad I can’t turn it off and on at my convenience.
I was passed by race volunteers in a truck and offered ice cold water. Ice….Cold… Glorious…. Richard had caught up to me and he isn’t kidding with people calling him “Thunder.” The way his feet pound the pavement you have ample warning he is coming. We got closer and closer to the white tents which were by the finish line. I was tired and glad it was over. I just wanted to get into the shade and down some bottles of ice cold water.
As I crossed the finish line the first thing on my mind was about the racing chip. I mentioned it to the volunteer collecting them and she said, “Sorry, you only get credit for what the chip reads.” I went to find the race director because he could look at the computer on my bike as proof I went the distance and the time it took. I found one of the directors and was trying to fight back the tears when I was telling him what happened. So much was riding on this race counting. He assured me everything would be counted. He said he couldn’t imagine having me out there for 7 hours and not get credit for what I earned. He said it just wouldn’t give me my split times. (Meaning my transition times and my bike time wouldn’t be posted.)
At the end of the day I wanted to complete the Half Ironman in 7 hours or less, but I’ll accept 7:31:01.
I forgot to stretch after my event so my body let me know it was unhappy on the way home. I was having muscle spasms and stabbing pains in my muscles. I was screaming profanities like a woman with turrets for half of the ride home. I suddenly had a craving for pizza on the way home. I had no desire for whole wheat or anything fat free for some reason. After the big race Richard made ribs with Tony Roma’s Carolina Honey Sauce, mashed potatoes, and I made a chocolate cheesecake. I figure no matter what I ate on that day would ever amount to the calories I burned.
Half Ironman…. It hurt like hell….. It was awesome…. Anyone wanting to do a Full Ironman Triathlon needs to have their head examined because that is just crazy!
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