IRON-MOM
It takes a village to become an Ironmom. When I think of everyone who put aside their own lives and came for a run, bike or swim with me, I am so thankful. For friends and family who took my boys when I had a workout to get in, running at soccer fields during practice, early morning swims, and last but not least my husband who put up with a tired wife for the past several years, I am extremely grateful for the opportunity to race this course.
The road to Ironmom was long, about 7 years. That was when I learned how to swim. It’s hard to believe, yet good to recall, that first triathlon: Escape from the Rock on Mercer Island. I “raced” it as a relay, doing the bike portion on my mountain bike. Standing at the swim start, I said to Cathy Nelson, “I could NEVER swim in open water like that.”
That thought crossed my mind as I stood on the beach in front of Lake Coeur D’Alene on Sunday, June 27, 2010, with 3000 of my new friends. I am about to swim 2.4 miles in open, 61 degree water. I had not a shred of anxiety about the swim. I vowed to keep in mind my three goals I wrote before I started this adventure: have fun, finish the race, no medical interventions.
You couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful morning: 60 degrees, pure blue skies, and a cheering crowd. The forecast was for 82 degrees, which had the athletes a bit worried, but more on that later. I started my day with a 1000 calorie power breakfast at 4:30 AM, it was a day of “firsts”, who eats that much that early but a potential Ironmom?
At the swim start, I did about 6 yoga “sun salutations”, 10 deep cleansing breaths, and the next thing I knew, there was the gun. I had lined up in front of the buoy line: my reasoning is that I don’t want to have to swim any more distance than I have to by starting off down to the beach to the right. I have been working on my swim all these years, but it still needs work. I had swam the 2.4 miles in 1:27 in the pool, so in my hopes, it would be 1:30 in the lake. I wrote 1:30 on my “wish” time, and 1:45 as my “likely” time. I waited about 15 seconds after the gun, to let all the eager swimmers get going, and then I dived in. There was some crowding, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I discovered that when I felt an arm on my legs or feet, if I gave a few big flutter kicks, the arm would disappear. Likewise, when I felt an arm coming over my arms, a well placed elbow seemed to make them disappear too. So, in that way I made it around the course. By the second loop, the group was pretty spread out, and I enjoyed some relatively open space in the water as I imagined myself as Dorrie in “Finding Nemo” and kept saying to myself “just keep swimming… just keep swimming”. The swells were getting pretty rough for the last 1000 meters, I don’t know if it was boats or what, but it was a challenge. Out of the water, I see the time: 1:46. Okay, right on schedule.
After experiencing my first wetsuit strippers, I’m running off into the change tent as someone hands me my transition bag. In the tent, it appears chaos. I hear Cathy call my name, “Hey Deb O’Connell, over here!” Thank goodness! Cathy and Lindy help me with my big bag of bike clothes, helmet, shoes, sunscreen and such. Plan had :08 for optimal time in the tent, and :15 for likely: results said :08, okay, still on course.
Charge out of the change tent and hop on the bike. The entire course at Ironman Coeur D’Alene (or IMCDA for those in the know) is a double loop course, two loops on the swim, two loops on the bike and two loops on the run: double the fun.
We have camped our RV at the rustic Cedar Motel and RV Park, which is right on the course. I’m looking forward to seeing Don and Adam at the turn, and there they are! That jazzes me up and I’m down Coeur D’Alene Lake Drive in a rush. Not much to say about the first 56 mile loop, except my first loop time was about 3:30, which was my time at Lake Stevens ½ Iron last year, so I was feeling on track at that point. There was one part we didn’t practice when we did our training ride in May due to road construction, and I got to have the surprise of discovering the hills in that area. It is not an easy course out there by Hayden Lake. The volunteers at this race are amazing, and when you pull into a bike aid station, it’s like you are an Indy Car racer. If you want to visit the porta-potty, they hold your bike. They hand you water bottles, and for me, help me pour my Perpetuem from baggies into my empty mixing bottle. They were amazing: they have you in and out in a few minutes. So, it’s starting to get hot, and I’m downing my drinks like it’s 100 degrees out. Before you know it, it’s back thru town. I get to see my fan club at the turn: Cathy, Jill, Tammy and Lindy, yee-haw! I’m jazzed up again; round the bin and out to see Don and Adam; grab my special needs bike bag and fill my pockets with food and powdered drink mix. The fig newtons and cliff “C” bars that I packed the day before don’t seem so yummy in the warm weather. By that time, I’m pretty much living on my Perpetuem + Carb-Pro mix (370 calories per bottle), alternating with NUUN (no calories, but has electrolytes), bananas from the aid stations, plus an occasional gel.
The second loop thru the Hayden Lake hilly portion was pretty brutal. The hills weren’t very fun, and it seemed like it went on forever. It gets lonely on the bike, as you are supposed to stay several bike lengths away from the other cyclists, and not ride side by side. So, there’s not much chatting going on out there. One of the bright points was at the 100 mile mark, where my bike computer always has a little party by flashing the display and beeping. That cheered me up, only 12 miles to go. Round the corner and I see a guy peddling standing up. As I come up behind him, I notice his seat stem is broken, and the seat is hanging to the side. I ask how he is doing, and he says he doesn’t know if he can make it 12 more miles. I feel bad for him, he looks exhausted. I was thankful that there were no mechanical bike difficulties for me. I must have seen 20 flats being changed. There were guys on motorbikes cruising the course, helping people change their tires.
Finally, it is back thru town, yes! Plan had 7:45 for optimal time and 8:15 for likely time: results said 7:36, great! Things are going according to plan. Sanity check: still want to finish, fun factor is decreasing, no medical needs at this point. Bank sign said 83 degrees on the way back into town on the bike, and I feel HOT. Yet, I feel HAPPY! It’s 4:30 PM, and I made the bike cutoff by an hour, yee-haw, this iron-mom adventure is in the bag (or so I deliriously thought at the time).
As you ride back to transition and dismount, volunteers run up to you, and hold your arm while you dismount (and I suppose catch you if you need catching), then they take your bike back to its spot for you, and hand you your transition bag for the run. Next thing I know, I’m running off to the change tent again. I’m thinking a marathon is worthy of dry shorts and clean socks! Volunteer Colleen was so wonderful, sat me down, dumped my bag, took off my bike shoes and socks, and actually put my running socks on my feet, taking extra care to ensure there were no wrinkles, I felt pampered. Plan had :10 for optimal time in the tent, and :15 for likely: results said :05, wow, still on track. As I run out of the tent, I raise my Garmin to the sky so it will connect and wakeup; 3 volunteers come running up to me, “what do you need”? We all had a laugh about Garmin synching. 15 seconds later I was ready to go.
Heading out to the run, I started to get into a bad place with my stomach. I had predicted this could happen, as I know how I feel after 5 bottles of Perpetuem plus various other foods and drinks (see food notes below), and so started a long series of visits to just about every porta-potty in each aid station. The first ½ marathon went fairly well (2:30), it was HOT, but I was able to keep running (mostly). I had my plan in my mind: run the whole way at 10 min/mile pace, with the following alternate plans to be used as needed: run/walk, walk/run, walk, crawl, get it done. In my mind, I’m hoping for a 5 hour marathon. At the beginning, I could see my average pace was around a 10 minute pace, and then it began to creep up. As it approached an 11 minute pace, my mind starts recalculating what time I would finish, okay an 11 minute pace would still give me a sub-5 hour marathon. Next thing I know, the average pace is creeping up to 12 min/mile; how can that be? Garmin must be having problems, because I feel like I’m trying hard, but I’m just not moving. At mile 12 my Heed and NUUN are all gone, have to wait until the special needs run bag at mile 15 to get more… so, I’m drinking some water and wishing I had more NUUN. On the way back from the 14 mile turnaround point, I see that Joe Hafner is behind me, and looking bad. He’s weaving on the course, and doesn’t recognize me, I’m worried about him. Then I see Fred walk/running and he looks strong, go Fred! Along the way I also see Brad, Bill, Kelly and Craig, running and looking good, go Raise the Bar! At mile 15 I see my fan club, and I’m feeling pretty crummy. Stomach is bothering me a lot, my bottle in my hand is full of dry Heed mix, but I don’t have any water at this point. I get a Tums out of my pocket and eat it (thank you yesterday-me for predicting I would need Tums!) I see Tammy and I tell her “the fun ran out of this about an hour ago!” She tells me to keep going. I think about the 11 miles in front of me and it seems like forever. Jill tells me Joe is doing badly and to pray for him. So, that becomes my focus for the next mile, to pray for Joe. Then there is an aid station and wonderful water for my Heed, thank you to the volunteer who opened my bottle and mixed my drink; and offered me some chicken broth. I had heard this would be the way to go, so I said sure and had my first cup. Hmm, tastes salty but not bad. On my way I go, mostly jogging slowly. I met a guy named Jose who was walking, and looking bad, said he just threw up. We had a discussion about chicken broth, and he said he had been drinking water. Oh that’s bad at 83 degrees. Kept on jogging. Saw a guy running barefoot, can you believe it? Ran up behind him and asked how it felt (I meant bare feet); he said his stomach felt terrible. I’m sensing a common theme here; perhaps the heat is affecting our ability to process food and liquid? I come up on Jerry from RTB. I told him I was here to deliver some HOPE (on our shirts, Hope Heart Institute). He told me he had done 20 marathons, and I’m thinking wow. He’s not feeling great either, so we walk and chat for a bit, and then I’m off jogging again.
Then I notice I’m walking. When did that happen? The part of my brain that is still working asks the planning part what happened to the plan (run, run/walk, walk/run…)? The planning part of my brain didn’t respond, so I was on my own. I recall the great card Andriette gave me last week: “be in the moment”. This was at about mile 18. So, I looked over at the lake, noticed the setting sun, and the great sky. Tried to absorb and be in the moment, instead of focusing on the miles to go. 3 more cups of chicken broth later, I’m at mile 21, that’s the turn around point on the marathon. I finally saw a lady in my age group in front of me and set my sights on her. As I got close, we started chatting, and on her second Ironman, she said it’s all worth it when they say your name on the finish line. So, I make the turnaround and who do I see jogging up the hill? JOE! Hey Joe, how are you? He’s looking somewhat better than the last time I saw him. So, we hang together and do some walk/running (okay, let’s run to the sign, to the next aid station, to the spot lights), drinking chicken broth and getting it done.
Joe and I make it back to mile 25, hit one more chicken broth, one last porta-potty, and then discuss our finish line strategy. Of course, it’s a sprint down the final stretch, and hands held high in victory, we cross the finish line together. Running through the bleachers, the crowds yelling, it is amazing. And yes, Debbie O’Connell, you are an Ironman. I’m going to cry.
Run plan had 5:00 for optimal time, and 5:30 for likely; results said 5:44.
Total goals were: 14:30 for optimal, 16:00 for likely; final result: 15:20
All in all, what can I say? What an incredible day. Like all triathlons, the addictive nature has me wondering, what if I could swim faster? What if I didn’t tire out on the second round of the bike? What if I could have run the whole marathon? What if it was 65 degrees instead of 83? Will there be another Ironman in my future? For now, I will try to be content in this first attempt, recalling the goals from the beginning: have fun (well, mostly, except for miles 14 to 17 on the run), finish (check!), no medical (check!).
Total food summary for the day:
Pre-race: 1 bottle ensure (250) + 1 whole wheat English muffin (150) + 2 TB PB (200) + chocolate chips (100) + maple syrup (100) + 1 banana (100) = 900 calories
Pre-swim: 1 bottle NUUN
During bike: 5 bottles Perpetuem (370 * 3=1110 + 270 * 2=540) = 1650 + 2 gels (200) + 1 package fig newtons (180) + 1 cliff C bar (130) + 3 bananas (300) + 4 bottles NUUN= 2460 (/7.5 hours = 325 calories per hour, per plan)
During run: 4 bottles Heed (4*100) = 400 + 1 banana (100) + 2 bottles NUUN + lots of ice + 10 small cups chicken broth (50 calories per cup chicken broth 5*50=250) =750 calories
Post race: 2 pieces cheese pizza (300 *2 = 600) + Sprite (150) + 1 bowl Life cereal + rice dream (150 + 100) = 1000 calories
Total Calorie intake for the day: approx 5200
Estimate of burned = 15 hours * 500/hour = approx 7500
1 comment:
I so admire your discipline! Good luck with your goals. If you have a minute, drop by my blogs: Levonne's Pretty Pics and A Camp Host Housewife's Meanderings
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