My first and last open water swim was 2 days prior to the
race in Lake Coeur d’ Alene. My
memory is cold. It was bitterly
cold, but as I put my head under the water and felt my breath shorten I thought
to myself ‘I’m here. This is
real. I’m going to rock this!’
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| This is a fake smile. Note to self: don't drink Odwalla on race day |
Nauseated is the best word to describe the night before and
morning
of the race. Completely
nauseated. I slept 2 hours, I ate
next to nothing, but at 0700 on Sunday morning there I was standing on the
beach of lake Coeur d’ Alene with 2,800 other athletes waiting for their dreams
to come true. Schuyler and I
hardly talked that morning. Both
hooded and hiding behind our IPod’s, we didn’t have time or energy to worry
about each other. This shit was
getting real. I knew I couldn’t
think about the entire day without becoming overwhelmed so I stayed in the
moment and only allowed myself to think about the very next task at hand.
The gun goes off and Schuyler gave me a quick kiss and dove
in the lake leaving me standing ‘alone’ on the beach looking out across the
lake to that dreaded red buoy. I
tell people that I waited a minute and a half, but I’m really not sure how long
I stood there. What I do know is
at some point I took a deep breath and jumped it. The swim was a bit of a blur. Lots of bodies everywhere. Some kicking vigorously, some going the wrong
direction, some pulled up looking disoriented. I just had to keep moving. Schuyler’s words rang though my head “find feet and follow
them” “pull through your
stroke”. That was all I could
focus on and before I knew it I was done with the first lap in 45minutes. Not a stellar time, but for me it was
good. I was actually really
excited because I didn’t push that hard, so I started to think that I could
maybe finish in 1:30. Unfortunately the weather had something to say about
that. The wind kicked up and
before I knew it I was swimming though a tsunami. Usually when you breathe you see green and pink caps all
around you. Not on this dreaded 2nd
lap. No caps, just huge
waves. I had to pull up just to
find the buoys. At one point, I
swallowed a ton of water and came up gagging. Thank God there was a kayak right there and I didn’t
hesitate to hold on while trying to catch my breath. I remember the guy asking me multiple times if I was
ok. I honestly wasn’t sure but
after what felt like 5 minutes of the clock ticking away I was swimming
again. I finished the swim in 1:45
freezing and thankful that the hardest leg was out of the way.
I was so nervous about pushing too hard on the bike and
having nothing left for the run I paced myself to the extreme. I describe this ride and ‘hum de
dum’. I never felt too tired or
uncomfortable, just out for a Sunday ride. I also hydrated to the extreme and ended up stopping to pee
6 times. Oops! It is a humbling experience to approach
a 70-year-old man and barely have enough to pass him. This happened multiple times. I’ll be happy if I can still walk when I’m 70. It’s funny that during the race you
always want to be somewhere other than where you are. At mile 95 what I would have given to be back trudging
through those miserable waves. Any
relief from the agonizing pain of my shoulder and hips would have been an extraordinary
relief.
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| Schuyler greets me at the finish line. Tears of joy! |
26.2 miles left.
No energy to think.
Run. Eat. Drink. Run. Eat.
Drink. Run. Eat. Drink. I
felt hopeful, fatigued, elated, frustrated, miserable, excited, emotional,
drained, and energetic all at the same time. There are really no words to describe the last leg of this
incredible journey. All the
energy, focus, early morning workouts, sweat, and tears, culminated to this
day, this moment. The only way to
understand this moment is to be there yourself. You would think after 140.4 miles you would be eager to
finish, but the emotion of finishing the last 0.2miles lingered longer than
expected. Even before crossing the
finish line ‘what’s next?’ crossed my mind. How does that happen?
Somehow by becoming one with the pain you actually learn to enjoy
it! The journey becomes the quest
and Ironman becomes not what you do but who you are. I am an Ironman!
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| My road to Ironman: 14 hr. 10 min - not bad considering the long road... |
