And not only did I finish, but I had a great time pretty much the whole way through. However, as seems to be the theme with all of my biggest endurance races, the reason that the day was so amazing had very little to do with me.
I've mentioned several times before as I recap races that the feeling I often get is that what I'm doing simply isn't about me. However, I typically say this because I am a part of a team (Team in Training) that has trained for an entire season while fundraising for a cause much greater than our 26.2 (or 13.1) miles. As we run our races, we run for those who can't, will never be able to, or still do because we have fought for them.
Saturday's race was a little different though. I didn't train for this one with TNT and I didn't have a lot of teammates out there competing on the course with me. So as I pushed through the swim, smiled through the bike (that's right...smiled...we'll get to that), and grimaced through the run, while I still kept my TNT motivations close to my heart, it was a different group of people that made the day feel amazing.
My race was amazing because of this:
And this:
And this:
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| My fabulous Cheer Squad |
I fully and wholeheartedly believe that I would not have been able to finish this race alone. I wouldn't have made it through the day without my incredibly supportive friends who sacrificed what very well could have been the last warm sunny Saturday in Seattle to drive an hour south to come and cheer me on. I wouldn't have made it through months of training without the encouraging words of my friends and family (both near and far). I wouldn't have been successful in logging all my training miles without the patient support, training advice, and workout company provided by Ironman Jason and Ironman MacKenzie (and I wouldn't have had all of the gear I needed without Ironman MacKenzie's generosity--I happen to have all 3 of her wetsuits currently in my possession). I wouldn't have had the heart to fight through the tough parts if I didn't know that my family was out there cheering me on from all the corners of the globe that we are spread out on.
When I finally crossed the finish line 6 hours and 27 minutes after I dove into the water, I felt like I had an entire army of support that crossed with me.
So before I get into the recap, in case I haven't said it enough:
While I spent the majority of the race day out on the course by myself, I never once felt alone. Not for a single moment. And it made all the difference.
Pre-race:
The morning of the race, MacKenzie, Dorothy, and Erica (who had generously "volunteered"/were forced to be my pre-race sherpa crew) picked me up at 6 AM and we took the hour drive down to Black Diamond. As soon as we got to the start/finish/transition area, the nerves kicked into high gear. I picked up my race packet, stuck numbers to my bike and helmet, got marked up for the race, and set up my transition area.
After setting up, as more of my cheer squad showed up, we had a while to wait around until the start. Dorothy, with her keen, observant eyes noticed my nervous, shaking hands that I had been trying to keep under cover. I couldn't quite hide it well enough. But that's ok, because I was happy to be nervous. Nerves are good for me. If I wasn't scared of a race like this, I shouldn't be out there doing it. I was glad I had excited nerves coursing through me.
We bumped into another TNT teammate that happened to be doing the race also. It felt nice to have someone who was experiencing the same nerves as I was, especially as we listened to the pre-race announcements and made our way into the water.
The Swim (1.2 miles):
Anticipated Swim Time: 40 minutes
Actual Swim Time: 40:10
I had been told repeatedly by people that the water for this race was absolutely freezing. But after the elites took off at 9 o'clock and the men at 9:01, I stepped slowly into the water and the temperature felt perfect. We had unseasonably warm temperatures in Seattle the week before and day of the race, so I think it kept the lake pretty warm.
At exactly 9:05, after waiting the longest 4 minutes I've had in quite a while, they finally started the women off and I was suddenly in the race. As long as I had waited, that moment happened so quickly that it took a second for me to collect my thoughts and remind myself that this was just the beginning of what was going to be a very long day.
Starting off the swim, my arms were tired. But I expected that. I've learned from my numerous Green Lake swims that it takes about 15 minutes for my arms to warm up and feel good. I know this exact time, because I usually am extremely unhappy swimming from the shore out at Green Lake. I turn around at the 15 minute mark and all of a sudden feel great, almost disappointed to be heading back so soon.
So as I started the swim, I tried not to get discouraged by tired arms. The swim itself was a 2-loop diamond-shaped course through the lake. By the time I had gotten from the bottom to the top of the diamond on the first loop, I was already starting to feel better. As I rounded the bottom of the diamond again on the second loop, I started feeling great. I pulled my arms through the water, trying to efficiently spin them as fast as I could.
Luckily, I didn't bump into too many people. After the first quarter mile, we had all spread out enough that I didn't have to trample anyone or get trampled. Things sometimes got tight around the buoys, but nowhere close to the horrific things I've heard (and feared) about full Ironman races. As I pulled up to the finish line though, I suddenly found myself barricaded behind 3 swimmers in front of me and had to slow down just before the end.
Nonetheless, I finished the swim feeling strong and ready to go for the bike.
The Bike (56 miles):
Anticipated bike time: 3:45:00
Actual bike time: 3:19:57
The bike was by far the biggest surprise of the entire race. It was the part I was the most nervous about, most unsure of, and most inexperienced with. So maybe it shouldn't be a surprise that it ended up being the best part of the entire race?
When I finally crossed the finish line 6 hours and 27 minutes after I dove into the water, I felt like I had an entire army of support that crossed with me.
So before I get into the recap, in case I haven't said it enough:
THANK YOU
While I spent the majority of the race day out on the course by myself, I never once felt alone. Not for a single moment. And it made all the difference.
Pre-race:
The morning of the race, MacKenzie, Dorothy, and Erica (who had generously "volunteered"/were forced to be my pre-race sherpa crew) picked me up at 6 AM and we took the hour drive down to Black Diamond. As soon as we got to the start/finish/transition area, the nerves kicked into high gear. I picked up my race packet, stuck numbers to my bike and helmet, got marked up for the race, and set up my transition area.
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| I had to take a picture of my transition set up so that MacKenzie could pre-approve it and tell me I hadn't forgotten anything. When she realized that I hadn't brought an extra pair of socks for the run in case the socks from the bike were all wet, she took hers off her own feet so I had them in case I needed them. That's what I call a dedicated friend/race sherpa. |
We bumped into another TNT teammate that happened to be doing the race also. It felt nice to have someone who was experiencing the same nerves as I was, especially as we listened to the pre-race announcements and made our way into the water.
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| Me and Emmie, just before hopping in. |
Anticipated Swim Time: 40 minutes
Actual Swim Time: 40:10
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| Nervously fidgeting with my cap before the start. |
At exactly 9:05, after waiting the longest 4 minutes I've had in quite a while, they finally started the women off and I was suddenly in the race. As long as I had waited, that moment happened so quickly that it took a second for me to collect my thoughts and remind myself that this was just the beginning of what was going to be a very long day.
Starting off the swim, my arms were tired. But I expected that. I've learned from my numerous Green Lake swims that it takes about 15 minutes for my arms to warm up and feel good. I know this exact time, because I usually am extremely unhappy swimming from the shore out at Green Lake. I turn around at the 15 minute mark and all of a sudden feel great, almost disappointed to be heading back so soon.
So as I started the swim, I tried not to get discouraged by tired arms. The swim itself was a 2-loop diamond-shaped course through the lake. By the time I had gotten from the bottom to the top of the diamond on the first loop, I was already starting to feel better. As I rounded the bottom of the diamond again on the second loop, I started feeling great. I pulled my arms through the water, trying to efficiently spin them as fast as I could.
Luckily, I didn't bump into too many people. After the first quarter mile, we had all spread out enough that I didn't have to trample anyone or get trampled. Things sometimes got tight around the buoys, but nowhere close to the horrific things I've heard (and feared) about full Ironman races. As I pulled up to the finish line though, I suddenly found myself barricaded behind 3 swimmers in front of me and had to slow down just before the end.
Nonetheless, I finished the swim feeling strong and ready to go for the bike.
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| Weirdest feeling ever: getting out of the water and running in a wetsuit. |
Anticipated bike time: 3:45:00
Actual bike time: 3:19:57
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| There I go on my circa 1989 clunker of a road bike! |
I started off the bike simply thinking please don't get a flat. Yes I had practiced, yes I had prepared for it, but I had no idea what it would have done to my mental state to get a flat out on the course. I tried to push that to the back of my mind though, and focus instead on simply making it through the ride.
I was really happy that Ironman Jason and I had gone out in early August and ridden most of the bike course. Here's my Garmin map:
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| From the green start, we went north to do the upper loop (about 24 miles), past the park and south to do the lower loop (only 8 or so miles), then back up again to repeat the upper loop. |
As I was on the bike, I paid little attention to my watch, other than to keep an eye on elapsed timed to ensure I was eating frequently enough. I paid no attention to what pace I was going. Instead I went fully based on feel. If I felt good and strong, I'd push a little. If I started to get too tired, I slowed down.
Through the first big loop, I finally realized exactly how much I had learned from my spinning classes. From posture to pedaling power to breathing, every little bit of it helped keep me spinning efficiently and comfortably. I leap frogged with a few people through the first loop, passed a few (including someone that I noticed was in my age group--our ages were marked on our calves), and got passed by some. For the most part though, I was out there by myself.
And I loved it. I loved cruising down the hills. I loved pushing through the uphills and spinning through the flats. Anytime a negative "I'm tired" thought crept in, I remembered MacKenzie's words of wisdom: "Any time I get grumpy on the bike, I know I need to eat something." So I did just that, and the negative thoughts slipped quietly and quickly away.
Post Race:
During the last 4 miles of the run, all I could think about was how much I wanted my finish line beer and how badly I wanted to get my sore legs and hips back into that cool water.
HLM Sierra had come equipped with 2 bottles of champagne and some OJ to share with the cheer squad (knowing that champagne is a post-race staple for me). She prepped those as I soaked, and then we all toasted the finish.
After getting out of the water, I ate some post-race food while enjoying my late afternoon mimosa. Ironman Jason came running up to inform me that I had placed 3rd in my division, which was a pretty exciting added bonus.
We all hung out long enough to watch Emmie cross the finish line and then started the trek back north to Seattle.
And on the way back home, I couldn't help but think back on the day and conclude that I met both my goals. I finished. And I had fun. And it was all because I wasn't out there alone. I knew every step of the way that I had some massive support behind me. So I smiled the whole way through and the whole ride home, and the whole night after as we celebrated with a few drinks back at my local bar.
All in all, I'd say it was a pretty amazing day.
FAQs:
I've gotten two FAQs since finishing the race, so in case you're wondering too, here are the answers.
1) Was it really easier than a marathon? My answer for this one is convoluted. Physically, no. It was just as difficult as a marathon. Mentally, yes. The race is broken up into 3 different segments that break it up into manageable parts. Instead of going out and just running for hours, you get to focus on different sports, transitions, etc. So I guess the answer to this is yes and no.
2) Are you going to do a full now? And the answer to this one: I don't know. I would eventually like to hold that Ironman title, and I think it would be amazing to complete one, but I just don't know that I'm ready. Training for this half was difficult. It was time consuming. It was mentally overwhelming. And I wasn't working for most of the time. In the last two weeks while back at work, I've struggled to fit in even my taper workouts. In order to train for a full, I would have to give up the rest of my life. And to be frank, while I love training and my training life, I also love the rest of my life. I'm just not ready to say goodbye to everything else for 6 months to a year. Maybe a couple years down the road, that will be different. But for right now, it's not.
That said, I do think I would do another half. Because after doing this one, I'm beginning to think of all the things I could improve on. And isn't that how I got addicted to marathons?
But right now, I have other things to focus on. A new year of teaching. A new adventure of coaching for TNT. And simply trying to enjoy my life as it is now.
Because if this weekend proved anything to me, it's that my life is pretty great. Not because of me, but because of all the other people that are in it.
So once again, THANKS!
I couldn't have done it without you.
As I began to tire just a bit towards the end of the first big loop, I passed by my cheer squad and was immediately pepped to pedal hard through the lower loop. The time passed quickly and before I knew it, I was passing back by my cheer squad on my way to the second upper loop and over halfway done.
Now, I've read other bloggers who have done these types of races, and everyone talks about how "before I knew it, the bike was over!" During my training, I did not at all believe this to be possible. The bike is the longest, most grueling part of the race. You are on the bike for hours. How on earth could it pass by "before you know it." But as I cruised through the race, I began calculated time and mileage in my head. I realized how much faster I had been going than I had thought. As I hit miles 40 and 45 and 50 with legs still feeling strong, I began to realize that it's actually kind of true. I had been on the bike for 3 hours already and it certainly didn't feel like that.
Not to say I wasn't tired. I was. But I wasn't exhausted. I still had some strength in me, which I hadn't expected. I had expected to be absolutely spent after the bike. But instead, I was energized and excited to get out and run. I was more than halfway through this race.
In the last 4-5 miles though, I did start to feel it. I ate a little more and kept telling myself that I was almost there. About a mile or so from the finish, I passed some of my cheer squad, Dorothy and James, and as I heard Dorothy's cow bell I suddenly felt the last burst of strength I needed to get through that final mile.
All of a sudden I was coming in to the bike finish through the cheers of the rest of my cheer squad, dismounting the bike, and heading in to transition to tackle the last little bit of the race.
The Run (13.1 miles):
Now, I've read other bloggers who have done these types of races, and everyone talks about how "before I knew it, the bike was over!" During my training, I did not at all believe this to be possible. The bike is the longest, most grueling part of the race. You are on the bike for hours. How on earth could it pass by "before you know it." But as I cruised through the race, I began calculated time and mileage in my head. I realized how much faster I had been going than I had thought. As I hit miles 40 and 45 and 50 with legs still feeling strong, I began to realize that it's actually kind of true. I had been on the bike for 3 hours already and it certainly didn't feel like that.
Not to say I wasn't tired. I was. But I wasn't exhausted. I still had some strength in me, which I hadn't expected. I had expected to be absolutely spent after the bike. But instead, I was energized and excited to get out and run. I was more than halfway through this race.
In the last 4-5 miles though, I did start to feel it. I ate a little more and kept telling myself that I was almost there. About a mile or so from the finish, I passed some of my cheer squad, Dorothy and James, and as I heard Dorothy's cow bell I suddenly felt the last burst of strength I needed to get through that final mile.
All of a sudden I was coming in to the bike finish through the cheers of the rest of my cheer squad, dismounting the bike, and heading in to transition to tackle the last little bit of the race.
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| My bike splits. I don't think I ever averaged anything close to 17 or 18 miles an hour for training rides. My legs found some sort of strength they'd never felt before. |
Anticipated Run Time: I gave myself a huge window on this because I had no idea how I'd be feeling. I figured somewhere between 2 and 2.5 hours.
Actual Run Time: 2:16:35
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| Feeling surprisingly strong coming off the bike--no weird transition aches or pains as I had expected. |
As I got off the bike, I was nervous about the run. The last taste of solo racing I'd had in running was my not-so-fun Seattle Rock N Roll Marathon. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't terrified of what my mind was going to do to me during this half marathon. I felt like I got stuck in a negative rut during my last marathon, and it wasn't a place I liked. I'm scared of being in that place again and desperately wanted to avoid it during this race.
So I listened to my cheer squad as they sent me off on the run and tried to keep them in mind as I pushed through. I also reminded myself that I had made it through the swim and the bike. The run was nothing new to me. Just a half marathon...I've done a couple handfuls of those in the past. I could do this.
To be honest, I was about 95% sure all along that I was going to finish this race (barring any major injuries, catastrophes, or bike malfunctions). I'm not trying to sound cocky or anything, but I knew I had put in my training (even if I felt I had slacked a little in taper), and I've learned over 5 marathons that I have enough fight in me to drag myself across the finish line, despite how I may be feeling. As I started on the run, it wasn't "finishing" that I was worried about, it was just exactly how much it would hurt.
The first couple of miles, I felt great. I even had to slow myself down a little, reminding myself that I did in fact have a half marathon ahead of me. Not exactly your typical run--and my body had already been through a lot that day. I took a potty break in the second mile (quite proud of myself to be hydrated enough to need to pee, yay me). I ran through the first 7 miles, only stopping to walk through the water stops and stay hydrated.
But by about mile 7.5, I could feel the negative thoughts creeping in. So I took a reality check. This was not a normal half marathon. I did not need or want to run this in any sort of record time. I was out on this course with 2 goals: to finish and have fun. Pushing myself miserably through a half marathon was not a goal for the day. So I gave myself permission to walk. For the next couple miles, I ran when I wanted to and walked when it hurt too bad. I continued walking the water stops. I walked most of the few hills on the course. And in the end, I was happier for it.
The run course itself was not the greatest. It was basically a bunch of out and backs and turn arounds that felt like they had just been trying to fill in the mileage where they could. There wasn't anything particularly pretty about it, and a large section of it repeated the lower loop of the bike course. Also, none of the roads were closed down for any portion of the bike or run course, which meant we were restricted to the shoulder of roads. On the bike, this was fine. But on the run, this meant I was running on a severely canted road shoulder. By about mile 5, I was already feeling a pain in my right hip and a cramp in my right hamstring because of the uneven surface. All in all, I wasn't impressed.
But that didn't mean I was going to let myself be grumpy about it. I ate some GUs, tried to stay hydrated in the sun that finally broke through clouds about halfway through the run, and worked on keeping only positive thoughts in the forefront of my mind.
At about mile 11, I hit the final stretch back into the park and couldn't wait to see my cheer squad. As I entered the park around mile 11.5, they were there in full force as loud as they could be. And I couldn't help but smile and be relieved. They were just what I needed to push through the last mile and a half. I might have teared up a bit in the next half mile or so just thinking about how great that felt.
Which was good, because the last mile and a half was not easy. It was a trail that looped around the lake we had swam in earlier that day. Initially I had been excited, thinking it would be a great way to end the race, but I was wrong. It you are at all familiar with Discovery Park's Loop Trail (gravelly up and down and up and down), this is exactly what it was. The gravel, roots, and large rocks that stuck out in the path were an accident waiting to happen on fatigued, wobbly legs. And the steep inclines and declines wreaked havoc on my joints. There was a lot of walking.
As I rounded the last quarter mile, I could hear the finish. I passed the 13 mile marker and came out of the trees, all I could hear was my friends screaming as loudly as they could. I threw my hands in the air and booked it through the finish, feeling more proud of myself than I have in too long of a time.
Anticipated finish time: 7:00:00
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| Look at me. Running. It's what I do. |
The first couple of miles, I felt great. I even had to slow myself down a little, reminding myself that I did in fact have a half marathon ahead of me. Not exactly your typical run--and my body had already been through a lot that day. I took a potty break in the second mile (quite proud of myself to be hydrated enough to need to pee, yay me). I ran through the first 7 miles, only stopping to walk through the water stops and stay hydrated.
But by about mile 7.5, I could feel the negative thoughts creeping in. So I took a reality check. This was not a normal half marathon. I did not need or want to run this in any sort of record time. I was out on this course with 2 goals: to finish and have fun. Pushing myself miserably through a half marathon was not a goal for the day. So I gave myself permission to walk. For the next couple miles, I ran when I wanted to and walked when it hurt too bad. I continued walking the water stops. I walked most of the few hills on the course. And in the end, I was happier for it.
The run course itself was not the greatest. It was basically a bunch of out and backs and turn arounds that felt like they had just been trying to fill in the mileage where they could. There wasn't anything particularly pretty about it, and a large section of it repeated the lower loop of the bike course. Also, none of the roads were closed down for any portion of the bike or run course, which meant we were restricted to the shoulder of roads. On the bike, this was fine. But on the run, this meant I was running on a severely canted road shoulder. By about mile 5, I was already feeling a pain in my right hip and a cramp in my right hamstring because of the uneven surface. All in all, I wasn't impressed.
But that didn't mean I was going to let myself be grumpy about it. I ate some GUs, tried to stay hydrated in the sun that finally broke through clouds about halfway through the run, and worked on keeping only positive thoughts in the forefront of my mind.
At about mile 11, I hit the final stretch back into the park and couldn't wait to see my cheer squad. As I entered the park around mile 11.5, they were there in full force as loud as they could be. And I couldn't help but smile and be relieved. They were just what I needed to push through the last mile and a half. I might have teared up a bit in the next half mile or so just thinking about how great that felt.
Which was good, because the last mile and a half was not easy. It was a trail that looped around the lake we had swam in earlier that day. Initially I had been excited, thinking it would be a great way to end the race, but I was wrong. It you are at all familiar with Discovery Park's Loop Trail (gravelly up and down and up and down), this is exactly what it was. The gravel, roots, and large rocks that stuck out in the path were an accident waiting to happen on fatigued, wobbly legs. And the steep inclines and declines wreaked havoc on my joints. There was a lot of walking.
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| My run splits, obviously decreasing in pace. However, I find my run time to be very significant. I ran a 2:16 for my first first half marathon back in 2009. It seems only fitting that I do the same here. |
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| Look at me fly. |
Actual finish time: 6:27:29
Post Race:
During the last 4 miles of the run, all I could think about was how much I wanted my finish line beer and how badly I wanted to get my sore legs and hips back into that cool water.
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| So that's what I did as soon as I could after crossing the finish line. |
After getting out of the water, I ate some post-race food while enjoying my late afternoon mimosa. Ironman Jason came running up to inform me that I had placed 3rd in my division, which was a pretty exciting added bonus.
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| There may have been only 8 girls in my division, and only 5 that crossed the finish line, but I still got a bronze medal! I think it counts for something... |
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| Two half Iron finishers and an amazing group of friends. |
All in all, I'd say it was a pretty amazing day.
FAQs:
I've gotten two FAQs since finishing the race, so in case you're wondering too, here are the answers.
1) Was it really easier than a marathon? My answer for this one is convoluted. Physically, no. It was just as difficult as a marathon. Mentally, yes. The race is broken up into 3 different segments that break it up into manageable parts. Instead of going out and just running for hours, you get to focus on different sports, transitions, etc. So I guess the answer to this is yes and no.
2) Are you going to do a full now? And the answer to this one: I don't know. I would eventually like to hold that Ironman title, and I think it would be amazing to complete one, but I just don't know that I'm ready. Training for this half was difficult. It was time consuming. It was mentally overwhelming. And I wasn't working for most of the time. In the last two weeks while back at work, I've struggled to fit in even my taper workouts. In order to train for a full, I would have to give up the rest of my life. And to be frank, while I love training and my training life, I also love the rest of my life. I'm just not ready to say goodbye to everything else for 6 months to a year. Maybe a couple years down the road, that will be different. But for right now, it's not.
That said, I do think I would do another half. Because after doing this one, I'm beginning to think of all the things I could improve on. And isn't that how I got addicted to marathons?
But right now, I have other things to focus on. A new year of teaching. A new adventure of coaching for TNT. And simply trying to enjoy my life as it is now.
Because if this weekend proved anything to me, it's that my life is pretty great. Not because of me, but because of all the other people that are in it.
So once again, THANKS!
I couldn't have done it without you.
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