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!  :-)

Iron Man France, June 22 2008

If you look up my name on Ironmanfrance.com, it will say DNF (Did Not Finish). That couldn't be farther from the truth. Here's the story of my whole Ironman France day, of course, in way more detail than would be necessary.

It started when every alarm Rob and I could get our hands on went off at 4:00. I did everything according to plan: had my oatmeal and banana, got dressed, and took a sharpie to write two inspirational phrases on my arms:

The first phrase I got from my friend Carrie at Wildflower last year: "Fee privileged." I really wanted to be reminded that some people would give anything to be healthy enough to be in the pain I'd be in, and that if for some reason I didn't finish, I am lucky to be healthy enough to even have tried.

The second phrase was "Race your own race." This was a great reminder for me when I kept comparing myself to others, my equipment to others, my time to others...
We walked down to the start area at 4:45. The streets were still alive and kicking with people who were still partying from the night before.

It was already very warm out. Uh-oh.

We got to the transition area, and Rob took pictures and videotaped me getting ready from the other side of the fence. I was surprised how calm I felt. Last year, at Wildflower, I couldn't stop crying because of all of my fears before the race. Even though I have been fearful of this ironman for months, when it came down to the day, I felt very relaxed about it. This is also surprising after how I felt last night when the very awful body-marker had a terrible conversation with me. It went something like this:

"So, you know that the bike course is very hard, yes?"
"Yes."
"It's very hilly."
"I know."
"How long do you think it'll take you to do the bike course?"
"8 - 8 1/2 hours, I tihink." To which this very cruel man shook his head solemnly "NO" with a big frown on his face.
"No. Ten hours. At least."

He continued to tell me how hard the race was, and about the cut-offs, and why did I choose Ironman France as my first ironman? He kept frowning and shaking his head. I listened to him for too long before I was able to break away from his evil spell, and he almost had me in tears. I felt like he took away my right to feel positive about the next day, and for that I was realy upset.

But, back to the race report... I was surprised that despite that conversation, I WAS feeling positive about the day, and that I was ready for this.

I did the whole "3 times in the porta potty line," put all my nutrition on my bike, pumped up my tires, and got on my wetsuit. It was time to head over to the beach.
Rob followed me for as long as he could, but eventually lost me as every athlete went down to the rocky shore en masse. It felt like the whole world came out for the swim start. People lined up everywhere to watch. I was a little concerned that the slowest swim corral was 1:25, as I knew I'd swim between 1:30 and 1:40. I missed my chance to warm-up because it took so long to get down there with all of the crowds. I saw Jenny there, who wanted to place herself in the back. I wanted to be closer to the front because I didn't want to have to run on the rocks to enter the water. For some reason, I wasn't intimidated by the crowds that day. I was, again, really surprised how calm I felt during the whole waiting time.

I imagined a very exciting start, as it is in the Ironman France video on my facebook page. But, I never heard any announcement or gun go off. Just, all of a sudden, people started entering the water, and it was time!

The first thing that happened was that I got hit in the head with a flip-flop. It was someone's bright idea to wear them up until he starts swimming to protect his feet. It wasn't a big deal; it just surprised me. :-) Then, in less than a minute's time, I saw a jellyfish. I did an instant replay of that "hips out of the water scenario." I was really concerned about being stung, as that is a real unknown for me. I did see about 8 jellyfish total on that swim, of about 3 different types. But, thank goodness, I never did get stung!

Besides the jellyfish sightings, despite what it looks like on the video, this was one of the calmest, relaxed open water swim starts I've ever experienced. Having swum by myself the last few days, I took a lot of comfort in being surrounded by so many people. Everyone really just took their own space. There was a little accidental bumping into each other, but nothing fierce. The buoys were hard to sight (although the water was indeed calm, unlike earlier in the week) because someone had a bright idea of making the men's swim caps the exact same color as the buoys. (The women's were pink, of course, just like our bib numbers.) I stopped trying to sight the buoys until they were much closer, and just swam with the pack.

It was warm, I had space, and I felt strong. I was excited at how quickly the land exit came up (before you get back in to do your second, smaller loop.) In actuality, it was 59 minutes at that point, which was exactly what I predicted. Rob was standing knee deep in the water as I ran by. I gave him a soaking wet hug in what seemed to be a "swimming drunken stupor" and dove back into the water. The second lap was just as comfortable as the first. I think my pace was pretty consistent throughout the swim.

Getting out of the water was fun; volunteers reach in, grab you, and pull you out. I took off the top half of my wetsuit right away, and then saw my time: 1:33:33!!! Considering that I swam :48 at Wildflower practice weekend, I see this as a nice PR.

(Big PRs, mind you, are not necessarily the best thing during the actual race. The events that follow in the day make me wonder if I went out too hard....)

I ran up the ramp, received my transition bag from the volunteer, and completed my well-rehearsed transition. (Rob is going to put this hysterical rehearsal video on You-Tube one day.) The volunteer was very helpful. She put on my race number belt and sunscreen for me while I did everything else. (Those volunteers work just as hard as the athletes, in my opinion.) I ran to my bike, which was all the way at the far end of the transition area. (I want to say it was a 1/2 mile long, but I'm not sure if I'm exaggerating.) On the way, I saw our hotel receptionist, Marielle, cheering me on! I grabbed my bike, and I was off, with Rob cheering right behind me.
I knew I had to go out slow on the bike. The most common advice I received from everyone was "don't go out too hard," and "pace yourself." I really thought I was pacing myself. Everyone was passing me, and with a tail wind, I was comfortably riding about 17 mph. My heart was racing with excitement, and I consciously took deep breaths to relax it. I felt like I was on a liesurely ride. I got to the first hill, which was a short (three tenths of a mile) climb at about 10% grade. It definitely wasn't any harder than the climbs we do in the bay area, and it being so short, if felt like nothing to me. (Some people were actually walking their bikes. Maybe that's a strategy to keep them from going out too hard?)

Anyway, there was a short climb after that, and then a long stretch of flats and descents, with a tail wind (through the cutest towns and most beautiful scenery). I felt so good at this point. In hindsight, I know I should have held back more (even though I really thought I was). I wasn't consciously pushing myself to go hard, but I think in my enthusiasm for the scenery, and in my excitement for how easy that part of the course was, I just didn't realize that I was leaving so much of my energy out there on the course.

I realized it at the bottom of the climb to Col de L'Ecre. This is a 12 mile climb that rises about 1000 feet. It's really not that steep, just a constant climb. This was only at about 30 miles into the ride, and spinning myself up this mountain, switchback after switchback, with not an ounce of shade, was incredibly difficult. The scenery was breathtaking, but the climb was still really painful. This is where I started thinking I definitely should have saved more from the swim and the beginning of the bike, and it was only mile 30! I started getting a headache, so I tried to increase my water intake, but then I would get bloated and not be able to take the perpetuem. My nutrition was a mess.

I knew I had to pull it together. I forced myself to stick with my nutrition plan, because I knew that without calories, I'd never finish. I had a just-in-case powerbar and gel in my pocket, but I couldn't bear the thought of eating them. A few times on the ride, I vomited right on my bike (and kept on going!). I think the heat had something to do with that.

I was not the only one who had difficulty on this ride, especially due to the extreme heat and humidity. The ride itself was punctuated by the frequent sound of the ambulance coming by to rescue someone. All along the course, at several places on the side of the road, you would see an athlete passed out, or on a stretcher getting medical attention. I was devastated to see one athlete who had his head resting in his hands, looked up for a moment, and then ripped off his timing chip as if to say he quit. Keeping perspective, and knowing that Coach Mike would say, "Just keep moving," I plowed on, past the people lying on the ground, and past the people walking their bikes.

The descents on this course were exciting and scary at the same time. There were minimal barriers between the road and the sheer cliffs, these little rock walls, with about 3 feet of space between each one. Good to keep a car from going over, but not a bike! I know that a lot of people fell on the course because you could see all the awful road rashes when looking at the athletes on the run course. I was blessed with not only not falling, but no flats or mechanical issues either!

No matter what could have happened, if I had missed the cut-offs, or if I had to be pulled for medical reasons, and despite the heat, this ride was totaly worth it, and I'd recommend it to anyone. The climbs were hard, but the surrounding beauty was nothing like I had ever seen. Parts of it were more breathtaking than the views at Big Sur, especially when we got to the height of the elevation. It was the most amazing tour of this area, and I will never forget the scenery: the rock formations that sometimes arched right over the road, the sheer cliffs that dropped off into the most amazing valleys, and the cutest old towns with narrow streets.
What is also memorable about this bike ride was the spectators. No matter how remote we ended up, there was someone there to shout, "Allez, Allez!" (Go, Go!), or "Avec Courage!" (With Courage!), or "A Vo!" (To you!), or "Bravo!!!" They always seemed surprised by me, and I got more cheers than anyone else! I think it's because I'm a woman (only 9% of the racers are women), and maybe it's because I look so young and tiny. Maybe they thought a "little girl" was doing the race. :-)

I was feeling awful, but I was so happy to have done the whole bike course. I made it back in 8:24:45. (In your face, mean body marker man!)

Just like with my PR in the swim, it's really a mixed bag of feelings to have done so well on the bike. Had I taken longer, I may have had more energy for the run, to keep up a decent pace. Nevertheless, I'm really content with my times. There are so many factors that go into someone bonking: nutrition, heat, going out too hard.... it's not a perfect science and I can't be upset with myself for not doing it perfectly.

So, I dismounted my bike (Ow!) and I had to run it all the way to the far end of the bike park because they valet the bikes in the order they are received. I ran to the porta-potty, now realizing I have severe GI distress, and then head out to the changing tent. For some reason, there were no volunteers to help me, but that may have been for the best. I was at an emotional low, and I had to pull myself together. (I always am better at pulling myself together when I'm alone than when someone's trying to help me do it!) So, I emptied out my transition bag, and I allowed the tears to come. By this point, I was very happy with my times, but I was hurting (not so much the muscles, but the overall energy and GI well-being). I was exhausted, dizzy, nauseas, and couldn't imagine that I was about to run a whole marathon. I had about 5 hours and 40 minutes to do it if I was going to make the 16 hour cut-off.

Within my first few steps, I knew that I didn't have even a 12 minute mile pace in me. I made it to the first turn around (mile 3.25) in about 40 minutes. During that stretch, I had stopped to get hosed off, fill my water bottle, went to the bathroom again, and that just wasn't going to allow me to get a good pace. I told myself that I shouldn't stop so much, so on the first return, I only did the quick "grab and go" at the water stops. I still didn't make it in much faster. By this point, I was sure that I wasn't going to make the 16 hour cut-off. I considered stopping, so that I might recover fast enough to race Vineman, but then I quickly thought, NO.

I came to France to do an Ironman Triathlon, and that is exactly what I'm going to do.

So, I kept going. My body was stiff and tight, and my feet hurt, but I definitely wasn't dealing with any overuse injuries or anything horrible. My slowness came from just not having any more fuel in me. I tried to take tiny sips of gel with my water, but for the first two laps, while it was still hot, I couldn't keep it down. I vomited several times on the run course. (Believe me, I wasn't the only one. So many people were!) At this point, I had no idea what I had taken, and what had come back up, so it was really hard to keep track of how many endurolytes I had taken, and how many calories I had.

As the sun started to set and I had shade to run in, I started to feel better. Not better enough to pick up my pace, but I stopped vomiting at least, so I was able to get a few more calories in me. I wallowed in a bit of self-pity at every athlete who passed me who had more bracelets than I did. (You get one at the end of each lap, and you need three before you can enter the finish chute.) I knew that everyone who was passing me, walking slowly and comfortably, was going to officially finish. But, I couldn't focus on that for too long. ("Race your own race.")

I finally got the the end of the third lap (out of 4) at 9:40. The cut-off at this point was 9:30. A volunteer told me that I had to stop because I didn't make the cut-off. It was no surprise to me that I wasn't going to be an official finisher, but I didn't expect that they might not let me run on my own, for my own satisfaction of knowing I could do it. The tears hit hard, and the volunteer felt badly. He did take my race number because he had to, but left my chip on my ankle. He told me that while I can't be an official finisher, I can go ahead and run the last lap on my own. Rob joined me, as my travelling aid station (and great emotional support!). He carried my water bottle for me, and I finally broke out the caffeinated gel. We trudged on in the darkness, past the aid stations that were packing up, past streets that were emptying, passed Ironman Finishers wearing their medals and smiles and heading back to their hotels.
We approached the finish line sooner than we expected. Rob ran ahead to get a picture, and I ran through, arms up high, and very proud. I did it! There were a few people who noticed me coming in and cheered me on. (More like, a few people were surprised to see another finsiher coming in...) The clock was still running:

16:47:??

I completed an Ironman in under 17 hours. Almost all Ironman Triathlons in the world have a 17 hour cut-off . Just not in France.

On the other side of the finish line, some people were packing and cleaning up while other people were sipping champagne. Someone noticed me and yelled, "A finisher?!? We have another finisher?!?" More cheers.

The same volunteer (Andre) who pulled my bib came up to me. He said that he was so happy that I finished. I know he felt really badly about pulling my bib. I asked him if it was possible to still get a medal. He raised his eyebrows and said he'd be right back. He was gone for awhile, long enough that we wondered if he forgot about us. Eventually he returned, with his hands behind his back:

"I have a little present for you. I was not able to get you a medal," he teased, "but tomorrow morning, go to the finisher's tent, and they are going to do a free engraving of.... THIS.... for you!"

And he put the medal around my neck. He continued,

"And they are going to write on it: Jennifer Sussman: The Last Finisher!"

I had never felt more elated in my entire life. Hundreds of people did not even finish. I couldn't be more pleased, and proud, to be last.

Marathon Segment One

Rob here again...

So, the marathon consists of a 6.5 mile stretch that the runners do four times. I went back down to the race at around 5:40 to see Jenn finish the first leg. Thankfully the hotel is close enough to the race that I can come back for a little refresher and respit from the heat between seeing Jenn. It is very hot and I can't imagine how Jenn and all of these amazing atheletes are doing this today! :)

Well, I was waiting and waiting. Before long it was 6:00 and I still didn't see Jenn. I figured she'd be any minute. Eventually it was 6:15 and I still didn't see Jenn. At this point I was really hoping that I missed her and she was on her second leg. Finally, around 6:20 I saw her. She had done the math and said to me that she might need to give up on the goal of finishing in 16 hours. For her to complete within 16 hours she will need to run the last three legs faster than she did the first one. I gave Jenn a hug and she ran off.

Soon I'll head back down to wait for her return. Running a marathon is hard to really imagine. Running a marathon after 2.4 miles of swimming and 112 on the bike in the hills of France really is incomprehensible. Hopefully Jenn can keep her energy up for the remainder of the run. Whatever happens I give her a lot of credit! So, let's all send a little extra energy Jenn's way for the final stretch of the race!

Go Jenn go!

Rob

Post Bike Update

Sorry this couldn't come earlier. It's been a busy day!

The bike of course is the longest part of the race. So, I had time to eat, shower, hang out on the beach a little, etc. I tried the free Internet at McDonalds, hoping to put up some pictures, but the Internet there didn't work. Oh well. I'll get pictures up later.

After giving up on the Internet at McDonalds I figured it was time to head over to wait for Jenn to come in on the bike. I went to the very end of the race, where the bikers were finishing but after the place where the runners were running. This way it was fairly quiet and I figured there'd be no chance of missing Jenn. Unfortunately it was very hot and there was no shade, but I figured if Jenn can ride 112 miles then I can stand in the sun for a bit. :)

The place I picked to wait was also the place where all the ambulances returned too. Every 10 minutes or so an ambulance came buy with an athelete that had succumbed to the heat or whatever! I kept peeking at whoever came out of the ambulance, and thankfully it never was Jenn. Jenn's goal was to finish the ride in under nine hours. She started riding at 8:13 or so. I was very very happy to see Jenn come in, looking very good, at around 4:40 (approx. 8 hours and 40 minutes)!

I then went to the place where the runners started. I got some video footage of Jenn starting her marathon, looking very good.

Next post will be for the first segment of the run...

Rob

Race Day -- Update 1

This is Rob here! I know you all want to know how things are going so here is a quick update. Later hopefully I can get up pictures and maybe even some video.

This morning Jenn and I awoke at 4:00am. All of our cellphones and watches were beeping to make sure we got up. I think Jenn and I both slept pretty well and got to sleep nice and early. We were already pretty organized so it didn't take long to get our stuff and head out the door. Jenn had her oatmeal and banana, just as the race plan called for. :)

We walked down to the start of the race. At 4:45am there were people apparently still partying from the night before! We made it down to the start around 5:00am where Jenn went inside the gated area, pumped her tires and got all ready to go as the sun came up. I was able to talk to Jenn through the fence for this part.

Just before 6:00 the announcer was motivating everyone to get down to the beach and Jenn joined the crowd of athletes all suited up for the swim. Jenn and I said goodbye and I went to find a spot to watch the swimmers from. I found a decent vantage point where I could see the entire mass of athletes. They entered the water right on schedule at 6:30 and it was a very impressive sight, looking more like a bunch of birds than people. Just a few minutes after heading out they brought a first athlete back in a boat. It was hard to tell but I was pretty sure it was a man, so I was not worried for Jenn.

After watching for a bit I worked my way through the crowd to find a spot where I could see Jenn come out of the water. The swim consists of two loops. After swimming a first (bigger) loop they exit the water and run on this short "blue carpet" to then reenter the water for the second loop. I really wanted to be able to cheer Jenn on as she entered the water for her second loop. I found a great spot -- I took off my sneakers and was standing in the water right where the athletes get back in. At about 7:30 Jenn came around the bend and gave me a big wet hug and then ran back into the water. She looked great which is good of course considering it was still early in the day. :)

Next I went over to the race finish to get a spot to see Jenn finish the swim. That worked out well too and at around 8:03 Jenn came up out of the water! I cheered her on and then ran up to get a spot to see her bike start.

I think Jenn's transition went well. She started biking at around 8:11am and I saw (and got some video of) her getting on her bike and biking off. The day seems pretty hot so hopefully Jenn is feeling good. I'm sure that she will drink plenty and have plenty of nutrition and that is bound to help as much as possible. We know Jenn is prepared and I'm sure she will do great!

This part is the longest wait. The run tonight consists of going out and back along a 3 mile stretch four times so I'll get to see her once per hour there. I'll be watching all the bikers come in later this afternoon but now it is time for me to go eat brunch.

Rob

Saturday - The day before the race!!!!

Not too much to talk about for today. I spent most of the time sitting down! I sat on the bus on the way to pick up my brother (yay!), sat in the airport reading as I waited for him, and sat on the bus on the return.

We spent the next hour or so going over my transition bags. I practiced my transitions, while Rob videotaped. It was hysterical! I was wearing my red dress, and put my bike jersey on top (plus, I'm wearing compression stockings for now, which really made it look funny.) So, we have some pics of me wearing my bike jersey, helmet, sunglasses, with my red dress coming out underneath, plus the white compression stockings, and my bike shoes. Nice! Anyway, I got both of my transitions down to under 2 minutes (not counting the time it will take outside of the tent).

NOW, my transition bags are really packed, and are ready to go!

Tonight we will have an early dinner, then check in my bike, get the helmet checked (required), get body-marked, and turn in my T1 and T2 bags. Then, it's sweet dreams for me!

I've worked hard for these past 9 months. I do know that I'm ready for this. I'm going to enjoy every moment, and feel privileged to be out there. There are people who would give anything to be lucky enough to feel the pain I'm going to feel tomorrow. I'm going to look at the challenges I face as opportunities, and keep my attitude positive.

At all of our hard workouts, someone would scream out, "Money in the bank!" indicating that all this hard work is being saved for a big pay-off.

It's time for me to make a big withdrawal.

Friday - two days before the race.

I woke up at around 3:00 this morning, which wasn’t that bad considering that I fell asleep at around 7:30 last night! With no hope of going back to sleep, I stayed in bed and read for a bit. Then, I did decided to get my last training over with. And by last training, I actually mean LAST training, as tomorrow is a rest day.

I went down to the water at around 6:30, much less nervous than yesterday. There were two guys there getting on their wetsuits, and I was glad to not be alone again. These guys were very keen on giving me unsolictied advice, such as to put vaseline all over me before I put on my wetsuit, and to eat as many calories as I can possibly get in during the bike leg.

It’s times like this that I can’t over-emphasize how much I appreciate my coaches. I feel confidence in the advice that I’ve gotten from them over these past 9 months, and I don’t feel the need to start questioning what I’ve learned and start doing what strangers tell me. (For example, if I actually listened and tried to take in all the calories I possibly could on the bike, my stomach would stop digesting anything and I’d be up the creek with cramps. I learned that one on my century ride.)

The advice (unsolicited, I remind you) doesn’t stop. When I got out of the water, there were lots more people getting ready to swim. In talking to another athlete, it came up that I only swam 10 minutes. He thought that wasn’t nearly long enough. When he asked me why only 10, I simply told him that was what was on my training calendar.

(The truth is, I never ask “why” something is on the calendar, and I don’t really know why I only had to swim 10 minutes. BUT, it all comes down to the fact that in all my seasons of being with Team in Training, the coaches and their calendars have never let me down. It’s not my job to question it, but just to follow it.)

Anyway, so with people trying to tell me to swim longer, or eat this, or not eat this, or try this, it gets a little tiresome, but I know everyone is just trying to help.

Back to the swim for a moment: a great fear realized - I saw a jellyfish! It was the size of a softball and just about a foot below my stomach. Although it is physically impossible, I think I swam the next few strokes with my hips and feet out of the water to keep it from stinging my feet as I passed by. Then, of course I imagined that it was part of a huge school, thousands, maybe, that was moving in my direction, and I swam ridiculously faster than race pace all the way back to the shore. Sometimes, I’m such a nerd. :-) (Sara, I know you are going to have a field day with that story!)

Okay, so after the swim, I chatted with a few people from North Carolina, and with Carlo, who showed up slightly before I was ready to head back. Then I went back to the hotel and put on my bike clothes. (Also on today’s calendar was a 10 minute bike and a 10 minute run.)

I walked my bike down to the Promenade de Anglais, where there was a car-free bike path. It was really fun to ride there, and it felt so odd to turn around after just 5 minutes (well, I admit, it was about 7 minutes when I actually turned around). I’m really pleased with how well tuned-up the gears are - that tune-up was money very well spent.

Back to the hotel, and I put on my running shoes. I felt really good and strong, and like being on the bike, it was so foreign to stop after just 10 minutes.

After my whopping 30 or so minutes of training, I spent more time obsessing over my transition and special needs bag. I wonder if there is even a stronger word than “obsessing.” I would put everything in my transition bag, then take it out and check every item off the list, just in case. Then, I’d put it back in, only to take it out again to test how easily I could get to everything. Back in, back out, back in, back out... each repetition was for a very important reason I’m sure...

I definitely had too much time on my hands. I think my bags are good, but I’d be willing to put money down that those items are coming out at least one more time before I have to turn them in tomorrow. :-)

It was then time for a little grocery shopping to get a few more important things that I wanted for my special needs bags (like pringles, and peanut butter for my sandwiches). When I got home, I thought I had been spending too much time on my feet, so I lay down to read. I was blindsighted by another nap. This one 3 hours long. The sleep was so deep, that I didn’t hear the knocking on the door. On my way out to the pasta party, I found a note that Kyle and Kim had stopped by to see me.

Kyle and Kim are a couple from the Boston area who I’ve been emailing. Apparently, they’ve been trying to reach me, but they can’t connect to my phone for some reason. I was bummed to miss their visit. I had hoped to see them at the pasta party, but no luck. Hopefully I’ll get to see them tomorrow.

I walked down to the expo to catch the shuttle for the pasta party. My phone rang (yay! It DOES work!). It was Jenny from San Francisco. We’ve been emailing/facebooking for a few months now. She met me at the shuttle stop, and we went to the pasta party together. I was so glad to get to meet her. She seems totally down to earth, and is a fun person to be around. We’re also feeling very similar feelings about Sunday, and so it felt great to be able to just chat about it all.

I really liked the pasta party because it reminded me of doing an event with TNT. There were 2500 athletes and their guests filled in a huge room with tables as far as the eye could see. There was also a big screen showing photos from last year’s race. It didn’t have a moving honoree speech, but I have those stored in an easily accessible part of my memory. :-) Jenny and I had a fun time, and stayed there a couple of hours.






A funny story: I can’t remember if I mentioned that yesterday on my way back from the bike shop, I stopped at a red light next to another cyclist. She was on her way to the expo, and we rode and chatted together for a short while. She was the one who couldn’t remember exactly how many ironmen she had completed (oh, 10 or 11...). I had responded with, “Wow, you’re a real pro at this!” Her name was Katia, and she’s from San Diego.

Well, at the pasta party, the announcer called all of the pros up to the stage, one by one. Would you know it? KATIA, FROM THE USA!!!!!! She really WAS a pro! A humble one at that, having NOT responded with, “Well, yes, I AM a pro!”

It’s later than usual, 10:30 at night, and I’m not tired because of that darn nap. I think I’ll try to get to sleep anyway...

Tomorrow is a very important day to me: my brother Rob is landing at 12:30!