Bragging rights. That is what this race has always been about. The right to say I completed an Half-Ironman race. 70.3 total miles of back to back, human powered movement. Six months ago when I talked my friend Heather into doing this race (I know she was already considering it but I'd like to think that I was the icing on the cake to her decision) I knew it would be a lot of work. Physically. What I didn't factor in
was the mental work. I like to think that I can handle any thing at any time. No worries. This race has proved that I can, however it has also made me more aware of the trends that my mind likes to follow. I was able to talk myself into and out of training days so easily that I didn't even know what hit me. And in the days before the race, my mind played some nasty games with me. That's where Dr. Seuss came in. In "Oh, The Places You'll Go" there's a part that goes: "I'm afraid that sometimes you'll play lonely games too. Games you can't win cuz you'll play against you. All Alone! Whether you like it or not, alone will be something you'll be quite alot. And when you're alone, there's a very good chance that you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won't want to go on."
And boy did I meet some things in my head that scared me. Scared me into thinking that I may not make it through the race. The run was where I was worried. I am not a zenful runner, I do not get "runner's high". I get through a good run with my head full of music to drown out the pounding of feet. But there was no music allowed during this race. So I spent a lot of time not letting me psych me out. By the time Saturday came and I was preparing my gear, I had concluded that although there would almost certainly be tears during my run, come hell or high water I would finish and get my medal.
Race morning came, and it came early. We were up at 3am and out the door at 3:45am to make the hour long drive to Clinton Lake for the race.
The weather was predicted to be in the 90s with 20-25mph winds from the south and gusts up to 30mph. Water temps were above 76 degrees which meant that my first decision of the day was whether to wear a wetsuit and be put in the last wave of racers or go with my age group but no wetsuit. The wetsuit allowed for better buoyancy and energy conservation. It also meant that I would be in the very last wave, running my race against the cut off times. I went for energy conservation. The swim went well and although it was pretty choppy, I felt strong coming out of the water. 1.2 miles done.
Next was the bike ride. I had rented a bike with faster wheels for the race and thanked myself over and over for that decision. In between patting myself on the back, I was also negotiating with Mother Nature. She had provided 25mph head winds almost all the way out. You pedaled down the hill just to keep some speed. Uphill was a grinding battle. Add a brilliant blue sky with the sun beating down and you have the recipe for misery. Since my race goal was to finish, I had no problems taking each hill as slowly as I needed to. No rushing, no stressing, just keeping my legs moving. I did not walk any of the 10 or so hills but by the time I finished the 56 mile route, I was physically spent. No time to think about that, I had 13.1 miles of running to get through.
I came onto the run course walking. Being the nutritionist I had a half sandwich for the transition and intended on taking the time to eat it properly (I also had cramps in my toes and quads that I hoped would work themselves out with a little walking). I had written down the words to "Oh, The Places You'll Go" and put them into my race belt to prepare for the occasion during the race when I would need some motivation. I was too tired to get it out. What I had instead was infinitely better. Scott met me along the run course and stayed with me for most of the run. He carried my water, brought a wet towel to drape over my shoulders, and kept a constant flow of encouragement going. He kept reminding me that my only goal was to finish, which kept the mental monkeys from taking over and spreading doubt all over me. And when I saw the finish line, yet again I found some little pocket of energy that allowed me to almost sprint in to finish strong, 70.3 miles, 8 hours and 35 minutes later.
As an end note to all of this, I was very grateful to have many people tell me that I was a positive motivating factor in their decision to either get active or participate in a race. In my life goal to serve and motivate others towards positive experiences, I can't think of a better way make my achievement more gratifying. Thanks to all of you who supported me in some way, whether you told me or not. Your energy was felt and I am blessed. I now have the right to say I am an Ironwoman.
As you can see, this year I have constructed a fence around my garden. The need for a fence came about once I started to plant and realized that I had critter issues. No peeps, I did not have to worry about the critters that lived in the wild around our neighborhood, my garden woes came from the 4-legged, doe-eyed ball of energy and mischief that is Chloe.
