Vineman Weekend

Those who have read this blog know that I completed Ironman France 6 weeks ago.  You  might have been wondering what might be next?  Would I do another ironman someday?  Someday.  Try 6 weeks later.

***THURSDAY***

I arrived in Santa Rosa on Thursday night with Christina and Andrew.  We checked into the hotel, and immediately changed to have our final workout.  We went down to the Russian River in Guerneville, swam 10 minutes, biked 10 minutes, and ran 10 minutes.  After changing back at the hotel, we had dinner, and went to bed.

In the middle of the night, I woke up with a really bad sore throat.  I was trying very hard to not admit that a cold was trying to work its way into my system.  I also didn't want to mention it to my roomie Christina because I didn't want to worry her that she'd catch it.  :-) I found my tylenol in the dark, and went back to bed.

***FRIDAY***

The next morning we slept until about 9, and stayed in our beds chatting until around 10.  It felt nice to be so lazy.  I've learned (and I'm pretty sure about this) that Christina and I are able to talk non-stop about anything.  We went downstairs for the team pasta lunch, which included all 60+ athletes (plus coaches, staff, and guests of course).  I was surprised to get recognized both for achieving my triple crown with Team in Training (having completed three different kinds of endurance events with the team) but also for being the top fundraiser (I raised close to $16,000).  Several people asked me what I was doing there, and if I was racing.  Contrary to popular belief, I had no expectations as to if I would or would not finish, so I usually just replied with, "I'm at least getting in the water, and I'll see what happens from there."

After brunch, we headed down to the expo, sat in on the race briefing, got our registration, and finally set up our bike to run transition.  Back at the hotel, I had dinner with Christina's awesome family, including her aunt Bene who is also on the team.  (I only just learned on that day that they were related.)  After dinner, the coaches led a "relaxation session." We closed our eyes and they talked us through the race to help us visualize the success we were going to have.

I went back up to the room, got everything else together that I needed for the race, took some more tylenol for the cold that I refused to admit I had, and went to bed.  

***SATURDAY - RACE DAY!!!***

Our alarms went off at 4:00.  First off, I took two more tylenol for that cold I didn't have, got dressed, and wrote my "war paint" on my arms again.  I kept "feel privileged" on one arm, but on the other, instead of "race your own race," I chose to write "positive bubble."  I wanted to focus on just being in what our team refers to as the "positive bubble," and that no matter what would happen, I'd keep my chin up.

After making my oatmeal with the coffee maker (thanks for the idea, Christina!), we headed downstairs to meet Coach Mike.  (Everyone was getting shuttled by different people.)  We loaded up our bikes on Mike's car and headed down to the start, a 30 minute drive away.  We arrived at the start area around 5:30.  I was so excited to see that all the volunteers were none other than our own teammates and coaches who had either raced Lake Placid two weeks ago or were going to race Canada or Louisville in the next few weeks.  It was really fun to set up my swim to bike transition area with everyone else on the team.  We headed down to the water...

Waiting in the water for the gun to go off, I already knew that I had made the right decision to start this race.  I was totally prepared to drop out whenever I needed to, considering I had no idea what my body was capable of.  I just wanted to be with my teammates.  I found quite a few of them in the water, including Sherri, Christina, Bene, and Kim.  We shouted a nice loud, "Go Team!," the gun went off, and the swim had begun.

The water was so nice and warm.  Maybe too warm for others, but it was perfect for me.  Plus, there were of course no jellyfish, so I could swim in peace!  Because this swim was two loops, and because there were wave starts of other races as well, several fast and aggressive swimmers passed by me.  It was annoying, but I kept my calm, and just relaxed until they moved on.  I really enjoyed being out there.  I finished the swim in 1:34:40, just about a minute longer than in France.  

The fun surprise when I got out of the water was that our team volunteers had set up a wetsuit stripping station.  They peeled off my wetsuit in 2 seconds flat, and I headed off to make my transition (6:17).  I was so excited to get on the bike, as this was the part I was looking forward to the most.

The first thing I noticed when I rolled out on my bike was Rob and Carrie cheering me on.  I really appreciated them being out there.  I had to really take it easy on the bike at first.  For one, I wanted to make sure to pace myself and not go out too hard, but also because my legs and hips were cramping up.  I warned myself that this could be a result of me not being ready for this race.  I thought that if this were the case, I would ride one lap, and then cheer on the team from there.  But, just in case I had some control of the cramps, I increased my salt intake and with one hand, skillfully rubbed some alcis creme onto my legs (while riding!).  I then went to take a preventative hit of my inhaler, and it accidently flew from my hand when I pulled it out of the pocket.  I told myself that I wouldn't need it until the run, and I knew that I had an inhaler at T2, so I didn't go back for it.  I probably should have.  :-)

So, if you compare the bike courses of Vineman and Ironman France, Vineman is a lot less intimidating.  The biggest climb is not that big nor long, and the ride is just beautiful rolling hills throughout.  But, I dare say it was even warmer on Saturday than it was on June 22 in Nice, with some fierce and relentless (hot) headwinds that made this ride feel just as difficult as it felt in France. The good news was that my leg cramps had subsided, I kept up my nutrition plan for the entire first loop and was making great time, despite the heat.  I felt a little tired, but I was doing okay.  The bad news was that 3 miles before the end of the first loop, I fishtailed and almost crashed into another bike.  I called, "Oil!" to indicate to the riders behind me that the road was slippery.  No one else was slipping, though, and I quickly noticed that I had a flat.

I moved my bike off the road and was surprised by my own emotions: 1) I was feeling that it was better that it happened to me than anyone else on the team, since this isn't "my" race, and 2) I was actually excited to deal with this challenge!  Every triathlete fears having technical problems during a race, but for me, not expecting to finish anyway, I just saw it as an opportunity to practice dealing with it.  I removed the wheel, pulled out the tube, found and removed the culprit (a small piece of glass), and finished changing the tire within just a few minutes.  But, for some reason, I was having a heck of a time putting the wheel back on.  A fellow Team in Training athlete rolled by and asked if I was okay.  Of course I would never want someone to take time out of their race to help me, so I told him I was all set and encouraged him to roll on.  He turned his bike around and offered to check it out anyway.

He told me he didn't feel that he was expecting a PR for this race anyway, as he had just finished Lake Placid 2 weeks ago.  And to boot, he is doing Canada in 3 weeks!  And people thought I was crazy....  Anyway, so Kevin helped me get the wheel back on, and waited until I rode through the gears to make sure I was good to go.  I really appreciated his help, and promised him that I'd pay it forward.  To which he replied something like, "You're our top fundraiser.  Just consider it a thank you."  (Of course I'll still find a way to pay it forward one day...)

So, 20 minutes later, off I went.  I got up to the area where the crowds were.  I first saw Christina's awesome family.  They were hard to miss, as they wore matching purple shirts, had lots of great signs printed up, and were cheering the loudest.  I high-fived many of them as I rolled by.  When I turned the corner to start my second loop, I saw Rob and Carrie, our coaches, and ironteam supporters out there cheering me on!  Okay, I thought.  I have a newly pumped tire, I'm feeling pretty decent, and I've just been cheered on by a huge crowd... ooookaaaay, I'll do the second loop of the bike course.

Well, let me just say that the second loop was a lot harder than the first loop.  Coach Mike jokes that the hills get bigger the second time around, but it felt so true to me.  My nutrition was failing me, I'm sure due to the heat, and I was starting to get nauseas.  I felt my sore throat and headache coming back, and I took more tylenol.  I knew the nausea was normal based on my France experience, and I was pretty sure I'd get through the bike just fine, and what really got me to keep going on the bike was the idea that I didn't have to do the run.  I thought that 6 weeks after an ironman, it's pretty darn impressive to swim 2.4 and bike 112.  The run really wasn't necessary, especially with the hills on that course, in this heat.  No one believed me that I could quit, but I was totally open to not finishing this race at several different points.  This was one of them.

So, not caring any more about my bike time, I started to take more time at the water stops.  I'd take about 10 minutes or so, letting volunteers pour cold water all over me, resting.  I decided that I didn't worry about the "nothing new on race day" rule since I didn't care about finishing, so I tried eating lots of different things they offered, much of it, to my surprise, felt really good going down, despite the nausea.  I also drank a lot of cold gatorade, too, which I never trained with.  

After the first of these very luxurious rest stops, I felt like a million dollars.  I was cooled off, I had calories in me, and my nausea was gone.  I was back to comfortably riding fast and feeling good.  At some point, I caught up with Bo, Jeremiah, and Kim.  (Bo had gotten a flat tire, too.)  I rode with Kim for a little while.  She had run out of water and was bonking, so I gave her my gatorade. (At this point, I was feeling that gatorade was the miracle drug of all athletes and that everyone should have some!)

We rode together a bit, and leap-frogged a bit during the whole second loop.  She was smart and only stayed at the water stops as long as she had to.  I, believing I would make the 5:30 cut-off and not caring about going for the run, was turning those water stops into little "day spa" moments.  Each time, I'd approach the water stop feeling tired, hot, drained, nauseas, and each time I left (10, 15 minutes later) I felt like I could conquer the world!  It's such a different perspective when you are racing something that isn't "your race."

By the time I finished the bike ride (8 hours and 28 minutes later), I was feeling depleted again.  Katie (our manager) and Dan (one of our coaches) greeted me in the transition area and helped me out.  Katie graciously offered me Christina's towel to sit down on, for me to collect my thoughts.  I mentioned that I felt pretty awful, and that I wasn't sure if what I was feeling was "normal Ironman awful" or "I'm racing this race too soon after the last one awful."  I was leaning towards not running, at the same time that Dan and Katie were helping me change my shoes, put on my compression tights, and fill up my running water bottle.  I sat there for a long time (this transition was something like 16 minutes long) feeling like I was okay with being done.

Then Kim rode in.  She, too, was feeling awful, and I think that she was questioning if she'd do the run.  This is her race, she had to! so I told her I'd wait for her and we'd go together.  Nicole stopped by, having completed her first loop, and advised us to walk as much as we needed at first, as it was brutally hot and hilly out there.  So, when Kim was ready, we headed out and walked quite a bit.  We tried running past the ironteam-ers cheering us on (we can't walk past them!), but then we went back to walking.  Within a couple of miles, Afi caught up to us, and she was looking soooo strong!  She was sticking to her 4/1 run/walk interval.  Kim was able to stick with her (I was not), and they slowly started to fade into the distance.  

But now, here I was, on the run course.  I really was okay with not being there in the first place, even though nobody believes me, but there I was.  Okay, I thought, I'll see how I feel after one lap.  (There are 3.)

This first lap was hard.  I walked all of the flats and uphills and only ran the downhills.  Some people say that this course is just as hilly as the Big Sur Marathon, but having not run that one, I have no idea.  But it was definitely hilly!  When I reached the turn around, I had another gel, and was surprised to find that I was able to run the flats as well as the downhills.  When I came back to the school after the first loop, everyone was cheering soooo loudly!  They were really encouraging, and as I went around to get my first bracelet, I thought, Okay, I can do another.

And then something amazing and unpredicted happened: I started to feel great!  I don't know why, but my stomach felt great (thanks to the gas-ex?) and I had great energy (thanks to the cola?)!  I was running far more than I was walking (and since my whole race plan was out the window, I guess my old 4/1 interval was as well).  I started noticing and appreciating the views, and I cheered on every person who I passed, whether I knew them or not.  I noticed that I was smiling, maybe because I was so surprised by how much I was enjoying this run.  I was amazing that I was still going, after all the times that I thought I might stop.  I even enjoyed watching the sunset as I was running.  Since it was getting dark, the water stop folks gave us glow-necklaces to wear around our necks.

At about 2 miles out from the end of the second loop, I saw Rob and Carrie.  By now, it was pretty dark, and Carrie ran with me to light the way with her headlamp.  She waited for me as I entered the chute to get my second bracelet.

Now, here we go again.  A race official put his arm around me and said, "Let's have a little talk."  This is going to sound very familiar.  He told me that I didn't make the cut-off for the second loop.  (I thought the cut-off for the 2nd loop was 9:30, and it was 9:26 at the time, but it turns out that it was a 9:00 cut-off.)  Being ooooh, so okay with this, I offered him my chip, and told him that I would be continuing on my own.  He gave me all of the "safety reasons" why I shouldn't, to which I kindly replied that I was with Team in Training and that they wouldn't let anything happen to me.  I then tried to ask for a bracelet, just for sentimental reasons, to show that I finished the second loop, and he looked at me, put his arm on my shoulder, and in his own condescending way said, "It's over, honey.  It's done."

I listened to my better judgement, and I didn't say, "You don't know me."

Carrie was waiting for me on the other side of the loop.  I told her I didn't make the cut-off, but that I was going to continue running.  She asked me something like, "Oh, they are going to let you continue?"   Well, no not exactly, but I'm going to anyway....

So without my chip on my ankle anymore, I went for my third and final loop.  Carrie started it with me, for a mile or so.  She gave me her headlamp and told me that she was going to get Rob and that they'd drive the course in case the water stops shut down.  I was not alone out there.  (I'd say at least 15 or 20 people were continuing past the cut-off.)  There were no lights at all on the back roads.  You could hear crickets chirping, and the stars were phenomenal.  Even though I was getting ready for the day to be over, I was really enjoying the very different experience of running in the pitch dark.  I was starting to get tired though, and was now walking some more of the flats, too.  (It was hard to tell if the road was flat, climbing, or descending in the dark.)   Becky also drove the course and checked in with all of us to make sure we had what we needed.  To the awesome volunteers' credit, many of them stayed beyond their shift to continue to provide water and cola.

I'm not sure what happened at the water stop 2 miles from the finish, but Coach Mike was manning it instead of the regular volunteers.  So, if any of those volunteers went missing, you'd better check in with Mike first.  :-)  Anyway, I was glad to see him there.  I think our conversation went something like this:

"Where am I?" I called out.

"You're two miles from the finish."  Glad he knew what I meant.

Then, I think I actually said that I wanted to PR (personal record) my France time.  Now that was just crazy talk.  Mike was probably laughing at me on the inside.  But, actually it wasn't that unrealistic from the time that it currently was!

So, I mostly ran the last two miles, eager to just get myself there.  As I headed towards the school this time, I ran on the sidewalk where the crowds used to stand.  Nobody was out on the street anymore.  I was afraid that I might not know when to turn into the high school, but as I got closer, I heard them: my team.  I turned the corner.  The faces are pretty blurred in my memory.  I remember seeing Bindu and Shanti, and I think Ann ran me in to help me find the finish line (the cones were down, and I was disoriented).  Then, she let me go down the finish chute on my own. 

Lined up, all along the right side of the fence were several members of our ironteam.  I had about a 20 foot run of high fives, but I don't think I was able to focus on anyone's faces because I can't recall who was there.  But, I knew they knew me because I heard my name called over and over (and my name wasn't printed on my bib this time!).

The volunteers were still using the Vineman finisher's tape, so I got to run through it, and I think (although I'm not sure) that the official photographer was still there, so I may even have a finisher's photo.  My time was 16:53:14, about 6 minutes later than my France time.  If I hadn't had the flat, I would have actually PR'd!  Coach Dan greeted me and gave me a hug, which was much needed because I was about to fall over and I think he caught me.  I caught my balance, and he put a space blanket over my shoulders, and a medal around my neck.

I was an ironman.  Again.  

***And THEN what happened?****

Some parts of what happened next are a blur, and some parts are crystal clear.  I remember being asked what I wanted, and I couldn't figure out the answer.  The world was spinning around me, as though I was on a ship and I was looking out at the land.  My teeth and skull felt like they were vibrating, and I got cold very fast.  My brain was in a fog.  Christina came by and got me to sit down, and then she managed to get Coach Steve to take me to the medical tent. It all happened so quickly.  I thought I was doing great on the run.

I thought it was a little silly to go to the medical tent.  I thought I was feeling pretty normal for post-ironman, except that I was really dizzy.  They lay me down with my feet elevated, but that made me very nauseas.  I got up to use the restroom, and started shaking.  The staff felt like I just needed to rehydrate, and that if I could control my nausea, then I'd be able to drink.  They gave me a shot in the shoulder (ow!) of an anti-nausea medicine.  Five minutes later, I vomited.  (And I was so proud for not vomiting during the entire race!) 

I felt better after that, and lay there for a few more moments.  By this time I think Christina and Katie were there, too.  I was sure I was getting better, and that we'd be going back to the hotel soon.  I told them I was ready to get up.  I didn't understand why I was hearing Christina say that I wasn't ready to get up, that I shouldn't get up.  But, with the help of two volunteers, I tried to stand.  Just standing made me scream out and cry.  I collapsed to the floor with my head on the cot, and vomited again.

A doctor came over and said, "That was awesome! You win the award for the loudest vomiter this evening."  (There's always a superlative for me after an ironman, isn't there?)  I pretty much felt okay when I was still but I just couldn't move.  There was already an ambulance there picking up another athlete, and since there was room for two, they decided I should get in.  (Actually, I'm pretty sure now that it was Christina who made that decision.)

Now lying in the ambulance bed, I turned my head to the right and said, "hi" to the woman next to me.  I croaked out my name and she croaked out hers (Summer).  We both even congratulated each other (on the race, of course).  I was surprised that the EMT was going to start my IV in the moving ambulance, as we went over bumps and turns and what not.  He tried to put the IV in the hand (without numbing it first - ow again!), and when I twitched my arm I 

accidently pulled it out.  He moved to my arm instead, which went much smoother.

Worth sharing this part, because I think it's funny: When Summer complained of being in a lot of pain, the EMT gave her some morphine.  She said it worked like magic, and turned to me and said I had to have some.  The EMT said, "Do you want some?"  I turned it down because I wanted to keep my mind clear.  He said, "Okay, but you only have 5 minutes to change your mind because they're not going to give it to you in the hospital!"  I still passed anyway.  :-)

In the hospital, they thought it would be fun for Summer and I to be roommates.  There was mostly a lot of waiting around while the IV did its magic.  Katie showed up not much later, and stayed with me the whole time.  She even slept on the hard, cold floor.  They came in a lot during the night, to check my BP (the lowest was 80 something over 50!) and my temperature (for some reason it went down to 95 point something) and to take my blood.  I was shivering, and they kept layering on the heated blankets.  

The part of this story that I want to make sure I mention is the crazy coincidence.  A year ago, my brother was airlifted to a hospital in Santa Rosa, and I spent a couple of days supporting him there.  When I walked through the next room to get to the bathroom, it all clicked, "That's the bed my brother was in!"  I was in the room right next door to his in the emergency room.  Also, the nurse had looked so familiar to me, and now I know why. 

So, I stayed in the emergency room all night.  The doctor checked me out, they did various tests, and they gave me more fluids.  By morning, I was able to eat a little bit of breakfast.  (How ironic - they gave me FRENCH toast!!)

By the time I was back at the hotel (8 in the morning), out of the crazy hospital clothes they gave me (bright yellow scrubs for pants and a burgundy long sleeved shirt, both huge on me), and showered, I was feeling pretty good.  There wasn't much time to go to sleep as we had a victory brunch to go to.  Besides being sleep deprived, I was feeling excellent.  It's amazing what IV fluids can do for you in regards to ironman recovery.

After the brunch, Christina and I had a much needed 2.5 hour nap, then lounged around at the hotel pool with Mike, Kimberly, and Bo.  We had dinner that night, and then I could finally go to bed.  The end of a very long, 48 hour long, day.

***AS IF THIS BLOG ENTRY ISN'T LONG ENOUGH***

I just wanted to say that this was such an amazing weekend.  Everyone kept asking me why I'd even consider doing this race.  It wasn't so that I could say I did two ironman this summer (even though that's pretty cool!).  It was so that I could be with the team, to share a culminating experience with them.  This team is amazing.  We've spent hours upon hours of hard grueling training together, and it was so worth it to be out on the course with them.  Sometimes I felt like I was cheering and supporting my teammates from the course so much so that I forgot that I was racing it, too.  Maybe that's what made it so (relatively) easy to keep going.

I really do love this group and am so thankful for having had this entire experience.  It's changed my life in so many ways, and every person on the team (participants and staff) has made a huge impact on me.

I can't wait to do it all again next year!  :-)