The Accidental Qualifier
You probably don’t know me. I am not a frequent Forum contributor. I didn’t make it to the team dinner, nor do I have the EN kit for racing. But I did go to the LP camp and to the Four Keys talk, both of which were invaluable to me, and I met many wonderful people at these events.
My IMLP started as a lark. I have been doing Sprint and Oly triathlons since I retired in 2008, and I added the 70.3 distance for two races in the past two years. My younger tri friends kept asking when I would do a Full IM, and I always laughed and said I was waiting until I turned 60. So, keeping to my word, I entered IMLP, our “home course,” to celebrate this milestone.
Joining EN kept me on track with my training and taught me so much about how to execute this type of craziness! So, here is my belated race report. I won’t be using acronyms or initialisms, since I don’t understand much of that. I’m more of a poet than a mathematician, so you number geeks may choose to stop reading now.
Preparing for race execution was key. As the coaches say, everyone is fit at the starting line, but the “Ricky Racers” have the wrong idea. It did take lots of help from members of “Team Kate” to get me to the starting line fit, however. I had a bike crash last May, which took me out for the summer race season. I began training again in the fall, only to slip on the ice and facture my tailbone in the winter. But I did the many hours of work to be ready for my “A” race. During taper week, I spent time refining my nutrition strategy. I broke the race down into the four sections of the bike and posted my goal watt “gears” on my aero water bottle. I listened to advice on the Forum that this is just another long training day, but it is catered and has valet service. I decided to pretend I was in Downton Abbey, and I even had my own personal dresser who dried my feet and put on my shoes and socks!
Keeping a relaxed attitude, I had a full seven hours’ sleep the night before the race, getting up at 4:00 and having some oatmeal, a banana, and coffee. Got to the transition area, body marking done, all bags ready to go, GU and water bottle in hand. Uh oh! I had left my Garmin plugged in at the hotel! No watts! No run pace! Could I possibly do this “old school?” Thankfully, my daughter and son-in-law jumped onto their bikes and rode several miles to the hotel to get the Garmin, delivering it to the volunteers in transition with instructions to put it into my bike gear bag.
Off to the swim start. My last rehearsal swim, sans wetsuit, was 1:14 for 2.5 miles, so I seeded myself at the back of the 1:10 group, having been told that I would surely go under that with the draft and wetsuit. My EN mental training was key here. At first, I stayed wide, away from the masses, but felt that I wasn’t getting the benefit of the draft, so I went in to the cable. Cripes! I felt like I was in a Mixed Martial Arts event! I was grabbed by the ankle and yanked backwards, I was literally punched in the foot by someone who was also grabbing my leg. Instant calf cramp! Grabbed by the shoulder! Dumb me didn’t give an inch, and I kept finding myself under the buoys! First loop went pretty well since I “stayed in my box” and kept telling myself I could not control anyone else’s behavior, just my reaction to it. Like the Brits said in WW II: “Keep calm, and carry on!” 35 min. first loop. I was on target. The second loop was a challenge, since I caught up with some slower first loop swimmers who pretty much blocked my way. Lots of zig zagging needed. Swim was slower than expected at 1:15, and I came out of the water bleeding as a result of the melee!
Transition One: First task was to find my Garmin. Not in the bike bag. Not in the run bag. Not in the dry clothes bag. My personal Transition servant, um, Volunteer, had all my bags dumped on the grass in the tent, and we combed through it all. T1 was longer than planned.
Ran down the bike racks, yelling my number, but had to find my bike myself. After mounting, then coasting around the hairpin turn, I spotted my daughter who told me to look in my Bento for the Garmin! Yay! Turned it on, waited in the rain in the mountains to catch a slow satellite while we chatted roadside. Hundreds of people passed me on the first loop. Maybe a thousand before the end of the bike! But, I did the EN thing and kept my watts low on those hills. I also waited in line at port-a-potties (what the heck were they doing in there??) At bike special needs, I grabbed my treats - an almond butter and jelly sandwich and fig newtons, which I saved for a little impromptu picnic at the riverside heading to Jay. Waited in another bathroom line. I know, it seems like this Forum is filled with people peeing on the bike, but that’s not me. Being older, I needed to stretch anyway. So, sloooowwww bike split, but feeling relaxed at the end.
T2: Unbelievable, but a sweet young volunteer servant raced up to me, saying she had just joined my tri club (Buffalo Triathlon) and was at my service! Perfect! And no line at the outhouse!
So, off to the run. On the way out of town, I saw my fabulous friend and training partner, fellow EN team member, Joe Grey, who was heading in, completing his first loop, looking amazingly strong and having the race of his life. We stopped to share a moment of encouragement. Things were going for me as planned; trot along until the aid stations, then walk a bit. Repeat. Repeat again. And again...Well, by mile something-teen, I was feeling the ill effects of the sandwich. I started drinking flat coke. Didn’t work. My mind was going, as was my balance by mile 18. I was a bit scared, calling to mind the Julie Moss’s of IM history, but did as instructed: bring out your practiced arguments to tell your body to continue, and figure out what is needed. Sodium? The chicken broth was the answer! Seeing EN’ers, Chris and Bridget Love out there on River Road was fantastic, too, as we had a chance to chat a bit. I convinced myself that my body was well-trained and that I could surely finish this thing, regardless of what my brain told me. Preparing the argument of “that one thing” with myself before race day was time well spent, and the Four Keys talk was a great reminder of that.
The Buffalo Triathlon Club was out in full force, as always, on “Townie Hill,” which we call “Rich Clark Hill” after the guy who started it all with the megaphone. A couple of friends hiked out from there to greet me with a pep talk, and of course, the cheering crowd lifted me up that hill!
As I took my last turn onto Mirror Lake Drive, my daughter hopped the barricade, ran alongside me, and announced, “No pressure Mom, but the last computer update has you in the lead by 0.6 seconds!” What?! Someone had told me earlier that I was gaining on the leader, but it was all just a blur. I was going for the finish, not the win. As I trotted down the hill by the Pub, I could hear Mike Reilly’s voice getting louder and louder. Goosebumps. Then, as I ran around the Oval, I heard him say, “...60 years young and completing her first Ironman!” I was alone in the chute, and the crowd went wild. A moment I will never forget!
Thanks, EN, for giving me the lessons. Just trotting along trumps walking, and, over the course of a marathon, you can catch someone who is 45 minutes ahead of you if she is walking and you aren’t, even if she is a seasoned veteran of four Kona World Championships! You just never know what the day will bring, so Carpe Diem! Enjoy every moment.
See you in Kona!
Comments
<p>"It's not about who's the fastest; it's about who slows down the least"... time-honored Ironman aphorism. </p>
AMAZING! So awesome! Congrats and enjoy your reward for working the plan...KONA!
Kate, Loved your approach and staying power. A lot of take homes in your messaging. Congrats
Kate, Well done! Your story IMO belongs in the "Four Keys Hall of Success Stories"! Way to listen to your body and execute YOUR race!