What an epic day. (Sorry in advance, the report will mirror it!) Nine months of training rolled up into one little will-I-or-won't-I ball of nerves, excitement, anxiety, and hope. I went to bed the night before the race confident that I had done my training far better than any other race to date, but still with the questions of weather, health, bike issues, and anything else that I could come up with. I set the alarm for 4:00 AM, with the intent of getting to transition close to 5:00, when it opened. Remarkably, I only woke up a couple times during the night. And then it wasn't night any more.
3:30 AM. *Blink, blink* Well, I supposed it wasn't worth trying to get back to sleep at that point. My body was ready to get this thing underway. I slipped out of bed, trying to let Meredith sleep a little more (difficult in a studio apartment). First order of business: get in some food. I started with a mini bagel, then a bowl of honey nut cheerios. Also got in one last check of the weather on my phone. The forecast still predicted a mostly cool, dry day until the evening. In the days previous, we had all talked about the fact that with 30% chance of rain all day, we'd probably get wet at some point, so I was prepared for that possibility. I just hoped it wouldn't make the bike course too slippery, as I'm not a great (okay, not at all) technical biker. Enough playing on the phone...time to get ready for the race. Both transitions were to be full changes, so I really just had to worry about three things: a swimsuit and two band-aids. I threw some warm clothes over top and managed to get down one more mini bagel. Nothing left to do now but get down to transition.
Meredith dropped me off as close as she could get, and I walked in the rest of the way with my special needs bags. And my path happened to take me right to body marking. Score. But the woman I ended up with told me I needed to get rid of my sweatshirt. Why? Because it was an Ohio State sweatshirt, and she was a Notre Dame fan. I felt sorry for her, but played along. :) Embossed with 608 on both arms and 33 on my leg, I proceeded on to find Charlie Brown still sitting under a tree and covered in garbage bags to stay dry. With a touch of nerves, I pumped up the tires...no explosions, good. Filled up the aerobottle, packed away the first half of my luna bars, and he was all set. I had a few other assorted things to get into my transition bags, hopped in a still short line to the bathroom, and then off to drop off special needs bags and get changed into my wetsuit! I was glad I showed up early, as it let me not panic too much through all of this.
While I was walking down the sidewalk trying to find Meredith or my parents, I heard a "Dave?". I looked over, thought I recognized the person, and responded, "Molly?". It was a nice surprise to meet Molly for the first time in person before the race and chat for a minute. But time was ticking, and as the pros started their race, I walked down to the beach to prepare for my own. Per coach's instructions, I went nearly all the way down to the end of the beach, and lined myself up somewhere in the middle. Because I was a little early, I even got to do a few strokes of warmup, but couldn't go out far because of the pro race. There weren't quite the wall-to-wall people that I expected, and I struck up a conversation with some guys from Arizona. At least one of them was wearing a neoprene hood, which seemed like overkill to me given the reasonable water temps, but hey, whatever it takes! My watch kept creeping toward 7:00... We were listening for a countdown, or announcement, or
BOOM!
Off we go!The cannon went off and we all... um, I guess I would call it "briskly walked" into the lake. No one down at that end was sprinting down into the water! Glad I had already acclimated to the water, I stepped in, put my face down, and began my long day.
I felt more excitement than anything at this point. I was finally doing my Ironman! Less than 200 meters in, I was rewarded for my excitement with a left hook to my jaw. Quick assessment: oof, but you're fine, keep going. A strange thing happened on the way out to the first turn: the obvious line of people was hugging the buoys, but another one had formed to my right, some distance from the shortest line. And I was somewhere in the middle, in very clean water! Hey, I'll take it. My swim out to the buoy ended up being quite good, and I even managed to swing wide and avoid the reportedly horrible traffic by the buoy. There was a short stretch between the turns, and then I headed back into shore, waves helping me along. The water is so clear in that lake that you could see the bottom long before the shore, which made for a good estimate of your progress. I had a little more trouble sighting on this stretch due to the waves, but still came out of the water with the volunteers saying "39 minutes". My goal was somewhere in the 1:10-1:30 range, so this put me smack in the middle. Unfortunately, my chip had come loose and was down around my foot, so I took a minute on the beach to kneel down and get it tight and back up under my wetsuit.
Quickly, I got back in the water for the second loop of the swim. Oh, that second loop. If the first loop was "choppier than I'm used to", the second one was "just try to keep making progress". It started off by being much more tightly packed than the start along the beach, since everyone was funneled through a tighter space. The chop had picked up significantly since the start (up to 2-3 feet from what I heard afterward), and the buoys just never seemed to get closer. Sighting also got significantly more difficult, because if you raised up your head between waves, you couldn't see the buoys at all. I'm pretty sure I followed quite the winding path, as evidenced by my proximity to kayaks a couple times. Eventually, though, that red buoy did come into sight, and this time I tried to cut it a little closer. I did get caught up in a little congestion, but not too badly, and I turned back to shore. Here I DEFINITELY went off course, because I looked up at one point and saw the sea plane parked at the resort's dock in close proximity. Closer still was another kayak, pointing me back to the left! I got back on track and marveled in the fact that I was in the last stretch of a 2.4 mile swim, feeling good, and ready to move on! I got out of the water and hit my watch at 1:23. Not my best pace by a long shot when comparing it to a pool swim, but it was a nice relaxed pace in conditions I wasn't used to, and I think it set me up for a good day.
Out of the water, getting my bearingsPace: 2:11/100m
Rank after swim: 1273/2626 overall, 166/264 age group
I came out of the water getting my bearings a little bit, and honestly this part was a bit of a blur. I had to wait for an available stripper (I know, "peeler") to help take off my wetsuit, and it was off in one mighty pull. Somehow I got my transition bag and made my way into the changing tent. A volunteer helped me dump out my bag, and the first order of business was to pull off my swimsuit and get into my bike shorts. I did so, naked but for my two band-aids, and then realized I had managed to set up shop RIGHT in front of the big hole in the tent wall they were using to toss bags back outside. Hi, everyone!
Oh well, no time for modesty. Into my shorts, into my jersey...okay, it's stuck. Off, and now into my jersey...hmm. It took me four or five tries before I finally managed to get it all the way on. Next, my watch. Wait, I need arm warmers. Watch off, arm warmer on. Heart rate strap under the shirt. Chamois buttr...well, you know where. Quick bathroom stop in-tent. I never really practiced this part of the race much, and it showed. It was a little difficult because of the weather uncertainty (I made a game time decision not to wear my jacket. Good move!), but I still could have prepared better. Unexpectedly, my family was able to find me along the fence in transition, and I stopped for a kiss, some high fives, and an emotional boost.
Jogging over to find Charlie BrownT1: 14:01
Charlie Brown and I crossed the line out of transition and into the most unknown part of the race for me. The bike is definitely my weakest area, especially compared to the field, and this didn't look like an easy course when we drove it a few days earlier. I managed to get clipped in without incident, and it was off to the first leg of the course. This leg is an out-and-back right along the lake, and it doubles as part of the run course later on. Quickly, I was able to settle into a good cadence and get my heart rate in a good place. It was SO exciting seeing all the crowds out there - you can sort of sense them during the last part of the swim, but here you finally got to be a part of it. Once we got out of town, it became quieter, but the course was packed with bikes at this point, so it didn't feel deserted.
Biking down to Higgins Point
Coming back through town
Who likes climbing? ME!!!
Time for another loop...My feelings about my legs proved to be right, as my average speed in the first section of the second loop was much worse than the first time around. Still no problem making it up the hill, though. I stopped into special needs as I had to replenish my stock of luna bars, touched up my sunscreen, stuck a few pretzels in my mouth, and grabbed my emergency Chamois Buttr for use at the next bathroom stop. I'm glad I did this, because I ended up with less chafing during the race than in many of my long rides toward the end of training. I did, however, forget to pull the container back out of my bike shorts, so I rode half this loop with a big bump on my right quad. :) The big hills weren't quite as fun this time around, but I started to see people walking their bike, so I took solace in the fact that I was still in my saddle. My heart rate wasn't getting quite as high on this loop, which I figure is probably because of fatigue in my legs - it almost drove me to standing on my pedals, but I did manage to stay seated all the way through this loop as well. On the second loop, there was more chatter between bikers, everything from compliments on how people looked, to complaints and jokes about the hills, to full blown conversations. I chatted for a minute on an uphill with a woman named Kim, who was riding a bike identical to Charlie Brown. She was having some leg cramps and didn't look like she was enjoying herself, so I hope our conversation helped. I also noticed a guy named Adrian on this section of the course, who was pedaling like a madman on downhills, but then slowly weaving all over on the way back up. Not sure what was going on there.
Worst of all, the wind continued to pick up all throughout the second bike loop. It was bordering on scary gusts a couple times, but mostly stayed at "annoying". This was where I was VERY glad that I didn't wear my bike jacket, which would have been like a parachute in this stretch. The wind killed my speed on a couple downhills that I actually could have carried through to the next up, and it was at its worst on the way back into town, where I was going MAYBE 15 on a nice gradual downhill. I wasn't going to fight it at that point...it was time to relax, spin out the legs, and get back into transition. I was amazed at how many spectators were still out on the bike course! At mile 110, I felt the first raindrops of the day, and enjoyed the ONE MILE of the course where there was actually a good tailwind. I saw Meredith and our great crew of spectathletes at the corner, and then my parents just before transition. And at mile 112, I dismounted with a smile and slightly leaking eyes. I saw Once I made it off the bike, I KNEW I could do the run, and I was going to be a finisher.
But then I went and dismounted and unclipped my left foot about 20 feet too early. So I entertained the volunteers by pushing myself with one foot scooter-style down to the line. :)
Bike: 7:34:27
Pace: 14.79 mph
Rank after bike: 1843/2626 overall, 221/264 age group
The transition from bike to run went much more smoothly. I did another full change into my "Run Dave Run" t-shirt from the Chicago marathon and mesh shorts. The only tough decision I had to make was whether to wear a long sleeved shirt over it. I chose not to, despite the cooling temperatures and drizzle. I run better in cool weather, and I wanted to err on the side of being cool. (Again, good move! At least I make good decisions in transition even if I'm not fast.) I put on my hat before my shirt, and then decided to make a bathroom stop here to get my stomach set up for the run, or else this transition would have been a halfway respectable time. Plus, my legs felt remarkably good for being on my bike that long! I was able to enter the run with a smile: half because I was happy to be off the bike and see my family again, and half because I was laughing inside at the absurdity of going out for a marathon after all that.
T2: 9:39
I was almost immediately glad that I put on the "Run Dave Run" shirt. Prior to the race, I was concerned that if I wasn't feeling good, having people yell that at me might not be mentally good. I'm SO glad I took that chance. From the start, people were cheering for me so much more enthusiastically than everyone around me. Yes, I was THAT guy. :)
The first out and back on the run was the only stretch of course I hadn't previewed, but it wasn't bad. It followed the trail down a mile or so, then turned around and came back to the transition area. I ended up missing the first two aid stations because I wasn't ready for them, which was pretty much my only big nutritional error of the day. In the first mile, I saw Shawn for the first time, but far from the last. We were passing each other near every turnaround. Also in this stretch, I fell in with Sam, who was stationed at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. We commiserated about the bike hills, of which there are few both in Columbus and in eastern NC! Around mile 3, I saw the next aid station coming and decided to walk it so I could make sure to get my food and drink started. Somewhere in there, I lost Sam, so I was back on my own but also back on track nutritionally.
Two miles in, feeling good!At this point, I had pretty much made the decision to walk all the aid stations. It was helping to settle my stomach to walk for a few moments, and made it easier both mentally and physically to eat and drink the right things. I began alternating between gel+water at one aid station, then gatorade at the next, sometimes with coke or chicken broth thrown in there if they sounded good. At a couple stops later in the race, I grabbed a cookie or a few pretzels, but mainly I stuck to my gels for fuel.
Around mile 4, I found another new friend to run with. This was Vicki, who was from Mexico. We had a good stretch of 2 miles or so where we ran together and chatted before she took a restroom stop. I ended up saying hi to her a number of times during the run as well. I loved how social the people around me were during the run. Definitely helped take your mind off of the run. And before I knew it, we were at the hill up to the far turnaround. I tried to run up the hill (this was the same steep hill from the first out and back of the bike), but could feel my effort level going up as well, so I decided not to fight that battle so early in the run, and just to walk up to the top.
On the way back toward town, I could start feeling the miles adding up a little, and I walked briefly on a couple more uphills. While the distance was taking a toll, I never felt like I was cramping up or that I couldn't finish the race. The volunteers were starting to hand out mylar blankets in this section, and it seemed like the majority of the runners were taking them. The temperature was probably down into the low 50s or 40s, and the rain was now coming down steadily. I decided to stick with what I was wearing and hope for the best.
Before the race, there was a station in the expo where people could put in inspirational messages for their athletes, and around mile 9 there was a giant screen where the messages were shown to you on the run course. I crossed the mat, looked up, and saw my message from Meredith: "You run Ryder". I couldn't for the LIFE of me figure out what that meant, but it didn't stop me from thinking over it for the next couple miles. It turned out she had put in "O-H!", which would have made a lot more sense. Maybe someone typed in the wrong number for their athlete?
We came back through town in a heavy rain, but the spectators were still out there and loud. My parents had walked down to the residential part, where it was great to get a lift.
Looking wet and slower just before the halfway pointThe toughest part of the run was here as well: just before downtown, where volunteers were splitting the runners on lap 2 from those still on lap 1. This was my worst mile, not by time, but in that I walked unnecessarily, feeling a little sorry for myself. Soon enough, I snapped out of it, because there was Meredith cheering for me. I started the second lap feeling tired, but good - nothing like the second loop of the bike.
Headed out one last time in the dark and rainThe first out and back of the second loop went quickly this time, and I elected not to get anything out of my special needs bag and interrupt what was a pretty good running rhythm. I was walking some uphills at this point, but every time I would pick out a landmark at which I made myself start running again. And with every mile of the second loop, I reminded myself that I'd never have to see that mile again! My mom offered me her coat, which was sweet, but I couldn't legally accept it, and honestly I was still doing okay. The crowd was definitely thinner as we headed back down along the lake, but the wind had died down, and even the rain was slowing. Somewhere near the turnaround, I was running near a girl who saw her boyfriend ("doodlebug" for the record, which was what I mentally named her after that since I never saw her number) We walked up the turnaround hill with a purpose, and I turned around ready for a last stretch to the finish! Doodlebug and I would spend the next 5 miles passing each other probably 20 times as one or the other felt good, and were encouraging each other the whole way.
When I was coming back from the turnaround, the once almost-flat trail felt more like a mild hill, and there was a lot more walking. I wasn't the only one, though - probably 80% of the athletes in sight at any point were walking. It was getting me where I needed to go, and I got one more nice surprise at the inspiration station. Izaac spotted me (we had never met in person), and stopped to shake my hand and say hi. Of course, the girls at the station with the microphone LOVED that, and let out a big "AWWWWWW!!!". They asked if anyone caught that Kodak moment on film. :) I also picked up a couple more pieces to add to my ensemble. One was the mandatory glowstick around the neck for visibility. The other was from a boy at one of the aid stations, who asked if I wanted some "bling". I assured him that I most certainly DID want some bling, and he handed me a red bead necklace. After all, I wasn't trying to win the race or anything...why not enjoy it to its fullest?
As I crested the little hill at mile 24, it was back down into the now dark neighborhoods. There weren't many spectators in here now, just a few athletes (still going both directions, which was tough to watch) and a few aid stations. I pushed myself on to run anything I could, and walk a couple of the last uphills. I thought about taking off my reflective tape, necklace, and glowstick, but I decided "You know what? I want a finish line picture that shows my race how it really was." And then, I saw the volunteer still splitting up the loops. I let him know that this time I was definitely going left, and made my way up to the final turn of the course.
And it was unbelievable.
Coming down Sherman Ave.After over an hour of swimming, 7+ on the bike, and then 5 dark and rainy hours on the run, Sherman Avenue opened up as a blinding cacophony of sound and light to my once again misty eyes. It's about a half mile stretch, downhill all the way and almost completely lined with crowds. It's amazing how much your legs really have left when you see that spectacle. I noticed a guy to my right with an Ohio State shirt on and gave him an "O-H". He looked surprised, but I got an enthusiastic "I-O" in response. All down Sherman, I heard "RUN DAVE RUN" and "GO DAVID!". I spotted my parents out there one last time. Kids and adults alike had their hands out, and I slapped every high five I could find. And as I approached the finish, it only got louder and brighter! I couldn't find Meredith and Molly, but they said they were right by the finish screaming their heads off! I couldn't even hear Mike Reilly say my name, but I heard the "New Albany, Ohio" and crossed the finish line a newly minted Ironman.
Run: 5:00:35 (Stupid 35 seconds!)
Pace: 11:28/mile
Rank after run: 1592/2626 overall, 201/264 age group
Total: 14:22:15
I was immediately caught by a volunteer, but really didn't need it! I felt remarkably okay - tired, sure, but steady. She helped me through to get my chip turned in, get my medal, finisher's hat and shirt, and go out to the end of the chute. I found my parents there and Molly, but Meredith got caught up in the crowd. Eventually, we found her and got her in for a photo with me in the finisher's area. Molly had brought DELICIOUS cupcakes all the way from California and carried them around all day protecting them from the rain, and I had one right there in the chute. Thanks, Molly! Meredith and I walked over to transition and got all my stuff picked up and turned in, got some warm clothes on me, and we walked back toward the apartment. We followed the course back, and got to cheer on Izaac one last time as he headed toward his first Ironman finish!
After a wonderful, warm shower, we drove up to the only place we knew that would be open: Denny's! I got some pancakes, but after all I had done to my stomach that day, it would only take about 3/4 of a pancake before calling it quits. My parents headed back to their hotel in Spokane, and Meredith and I went back to crash. I actually was up longer than her - poor thing was SO tired and cold.
Ironman was such an amazing and rewarding experience for me. It seems like such a long time ago that I started the journey (okay, it WAS a long time), and it's amazing how far I came. Though my time was a little slower than I hoped, I find that I really don't care. :) All the hours I trained ended up being worthwhile, and I wouldn't trade the day for anything.
Thanks so much to all of you (assuming anyone is still reading this far in!) for joining me along the way. I met so many wonderful people online and in person, and I appreciate all of you.
Thanks to Molly, Dierdre, and everyone else who stood out in the rain as spectathletes! You had just as long a day, and we got to sit for a good portion of ours!
Thanks to Ray for riding with me, joining me for the dinner, and encouraging me to join COTT. Congrats on your first IM finish, Ray!
Thanks to the other racers I met out there: Carrie, Shawn, Marit, Tasha, Angelina, Izaac. Also, all the T3 folks from Austin who let us crash your post-race party. Every one of you was a superstar out there, whatever the result. (Sorry if I'm forgetting anyone! You're awesome too!)
Thanks to my parents who changed their vacation plans around to include a trip to CDA to stand in the rain all day and watch me. I really appreciated you guys being there!
Thanks to all my friends and family who thought about, prayed for, and followed me on race day. I was thinking about you all out on the course.
Thanks to everyone who wrote notes for me to read before the race. They touched me, encouraged me, and made me laugh when I needed it most.
Thanks to my coach, Elizabeth Waterstraat. She was amazing throughout the whole training process, and I wouldn't choose anyone else if I could do it over again. If any athletes reading this are looking for a coach, don't look any further.
And thanks of course to my wife Meredith. Without her, I certainly never would have started this crazy sport. And it was she who had to put up with all those 6...7...8 hour training days leading up to the race. I can't put into words how much I appreciate it, Mer. Love you.
