PROLOGUE
I grew up here. Louisville will always be home to me. The river, the bridges, the landmarks...they all bring back memories, some wonderful, some sad and some that make me grateful for having grown up here. I love Kentucky anytime of year. The weather is variable enough that you get all seasons but it's gorgeous a lot and the scenery is always beautiful. The hills and the trees, the birds and the fields of wildflowers and corn and tobacco, the horse farms and the cattle. It just smells wonderful. That's what struck me as I exited the car on October 5 in Bardstown as I prepared to do something epic for me: attempt to realize a 35 year old dream of becoming and Ironman.
This is that story of one perfect day. If you want to hear about the epic end and skip all the rest, scroll down to THE LAST DROP.
Strangely, unlike any other race, I was not nervous. I never got overly anxious, but I did get quiet two days before. My coach observed that I was dealing with some race jitters because I was uncharacteristically quiet. Yes, I agreed, but inside I did not have butterflies, nor was I having difficulty sleeping as I have often experienced with other races. I had decided to allow myself the freedom to enjoy the day, to handle it like a practitioner rather than a novice and to follow the path I was on with no expectations. I certainly wanted to do well. I had hopes for 15 hours, but I knew that would depend on race conditions over which I had no control. So I just put it out there to the universe that I wanted to get to the end.
I can comment later on the pre-race activities and meetings racers etc, but maybe later. For now, this is the story about the idea that I had at 23, after dating a guy who did the Kona IM race and thinking, "I'd like to do that someday," Not many women were doing extraordinary sports in those days. For example, I was advised to stop competing in Tae Kwon Do by my bosses at P&G because it was unfitting for a woman and dangerous. I didn't quit. I was pretty fit then and probably could have done an IM, but there wasn't much encouragement or support for women who were "sporty" back in the 80s.
I had no idea that so much would happen to make that dream nearly fade completely.
Fast forward through death of my brother, back injury at work, chronic fatigue, childbirth, difficult financial situations, career change, two major moves across the states, divorce, bankruptcy, another chronic illness, another major move and new stressful job, job layoff, weight gain, college for my daughter...You might agree that letting go of that dream would seem wise. It was pretty much shelved by age 52.
But something magical happened that year. I saw a sign that said "you train, you triumph" advertising the AIDS Foundation of Chicago AFC and their new triathlon training program. With the help of Coach Chris Navin and Coach Scott Hutmacher, in 2010, I completed my first outdoor triathlon, Olympic distance, in 4:52. Didn't indicate any talent for doing much more and while it was a real accomplishment I became curious about what more I might be able to do. So I trained more and did that race the following year and a few more.
ABOUT IMLOU
ABOUT IMLOU
By 2013 I had done many sprints, Olympic and multiple half iron man races. In 2014, I started to consider the minute possibility of pursuing a full IM but kept to half IM races that year. By the end of that year, I signed up for IMLOU.
IMLOU is a unique race in the IM world. For 2015, they moved the race to October to try to reduce the heat issues (and get more racers) but that created a new issue; 7:30 AM sunrise. This meant that racers would only have until midnight or 16:30 to complete the race. In addition, IMLOU has a timed start rather than a wave start. This means that you may get in the water anytime between 7:30 AM and 8:40 AM. That means that you could end up with less than 16 hours to do this race. For first timers, this is a real deficit and puts a lot of pressure on less able athletes, like me, to get across the finish line in time.
I signed up and agreed to these conditions. I sort of figured that I would train and get myself there by doing the training.
GETTING THERE
GETTING THERE
This year was one of the wettest coldest summers in Chicago in history. That meant that a lot of my training races and training rides and open water swims were very wet and cold. It meant that several races were abbreviated making my plan for longer distances aborted. I had a hard time getting all the training done but I worked it in and did three 100 mile bike rides, one completely alone on the Monon. My runs were shorter, track training and other runs but nothing over 13 miles and I certainly made no progress on speed.
So I drove to the course that morning at 4 AM, knowing that I did what I could and would do so again that day. I found a parking spot and walked to transition, actually the line to transition, because I arrived before 5:15 when it would open. I had prepared everything a week in advance, walked myself through the course and how I would handle things (nutrition, hydration, clothes etc) many times. I was mentally ready for this. I placed my water bottles (full of smart water, plus one with Skraitch plus Ucan mixed) on the bike, checked tire pressure, borrowed a pump from someone and pumped up the pressure to 125psi. (a side note: this timed entry on the swim had everyone on edge that morning. There was a lot less camaraderie that morning than usual and when asked for a loan of a bike pump, one women just looked at me with the most pained expression. I let her off the hook by asking if she needed to get to the swim start and she gratefully said yes and took off. I got the loan from another guy who was a total gentleman about it even though he was reluctant and not completely gracious. ...it's hard when you have no Sherpa with you.)
I left transition by 5:30 and walked to the swim start where I looked for Masumi Yonemata who was body marking and had her mark my number 1348 and the symbol for tree in Japanese. The reason for this is that Johnson, my brother who died in 1986, called me Tree and has been the impetus for my getting into triathlons and keeping his memory has been part of my triathlon experience. She wrote the symbol nearly on the inside of my right arm and on my left calf below my age. That was really fortunate because later, during the swim, when I feel particularly close to him, I saw that symbol with every breath.  |
| THE GREAT LAWN (IM VILLAGE LOCATION) |
I headed to a spot in line which was a long walk, but I realized I was pretty close to the front once we were all walking to the start. I had my bikini on because it's easier to take off quickly in transition and with a wetsuit it doesn't much matter, so I kept my jeans, tshirt and tennis shoes on for warmth along with two jackets and a space blanket, plus water and nutrition for the wait. It seemed like a very short wait before I was trying to get into my wetsuit while walking forward! I got my dry clothes stashed and in the interim, met a young woman doing her first from Dallas. She was sitting with her husband (newly weds) vibrating like a leaf from nerves. She confessed that she felt very under trained and was worried. I observed that she was using a lot of energy with her shaking and that she had done all she could so today was just execution. I encouraged her to enjoy the day and let it unfold. I think it helped because she stopped bouncing and seemed calmer. I hope she did well. I saw her husband later on the run and he said she was just in front of me. I never saw her so I expect she finished.
As I walked towards the swim start, I saw Ovetta Sampson, a multiple IM finisher who gave me a hug and encouragement and Nic Ruley ( another multiple IM finisher and fellow AFC athlete from 2010), officiating, who made me laugh, told me he loved me and gave me a big hug and kiss before running off to do his job.
SWIM START 7:40 AM 1;22
I hopped into the water without really thinking about it and after the initial shock at being in the water so quick (7:40) I started swimming. Two strokes with mild panic reaction but after that I was totally having fun. It was a bit more of a washing machine than I expected with the start but really it was not a problem and I never had the feeling of suffocation or high heart rate from other starts. It was so cool to be swimming in the Ohio once again and to watch the shore go by and see the fog at the surface. It was a feeling of being exactly where I wanted to be. I got shoved around a bit by some of the later entries who were faster and hit the sand bar and actually walked for about 50 feet on the sand bar before heading to the turn buoy. I got around it and hoped for some current but honestly I never felt it. I swam out towards the center of the river to catch some current and I think I did get some but it was hard to tell. At one point the fog made spotting tough and I mistook a kayaker in orange for the buoy and headed toward it, ending up 100 yds off course. I turned back and headed for the swim out, feeling annoyed but not upset. Too soon the swim was over and I got out at 1:21, officially 1:22 due to the run to the mat. That was a PR for my best IM swim time ever. I must have caught some current! I remembered to hit my garmin lap button to switch to transition (total win!)
TRANSITION 1
SWIM START 7:40 AM 1;22
I hopped into the water without really thinking about it and after the initial shock at being in the water so quick (7:40) I started swimming. Two strokes with mild panic reaction but after that I was totally having fun. It was a bit more of a washing machine than I expected with the start but really it was not a problem and I never had the feeling of suffocation or high heart rate from other starts. It was so cool to be swimming in the Ohio once again and to watch the shore go by and see the fog at the surface. It was a feeling of being exactly where I wanted to be. I got shoved around a bit by some of the later entries who were faster and hit the sand bar and actually walked for about 50 feet on the sand bar before heading to the turn buoy. I got around it and hoped for some current but honestly I never felt it. I swam out towards the center of the river to catch some current and I think I did get some but it was hard to tell. At one point the fog made spotting tough and I mistook a kayaker in orange for the buoy and headed toward it, ending up 100 yds off course. I turned back and headed for the swim out, feeling annoyed but not upset. Too soon the swim was over and I got out at 1:21, officially 1:22 due to the run to the mat. That was a PR for my best IM swim time ever. I must have caught some current! I remembered to hit my garmin lap button to switch to transition (total win!)
TRANSITION 1
I unzipped my wetsuit and got a stripper to help me grabbed everything and picked up my bike gear bag and headed to the tent. It was crowded in there; standing room only. I found one chair and sat in it to change. I got my bra on ( the one with the front zip that makes getting a sport bra onto a wet body really easy) and my 2XU onsie and my shoes on. (I don't wear socks) Put on my new sunglasses and got my bike jacket and gloves on. Unfortunately, I can't use cream sunscreen so I had to bring my spray on stuff and stepped outside the tent to apply it, having to remove my jacket again to do so. I got to my bike, put on my helmet and headed out. Forgot the hit the Garmin lap button until like mile 2 (fail!) so I had to remember to add it back all day.
BIKE LEG 8:22
BIKE LEG 8:22
I headed out on the bike and let myself put on as much speed as I could without elevating my HR. I was doing 17 mph on the first flat section. The hills slowed me a lot. My climbing is weak so I was slowing to anywhere from 3 to 12 mph on every up hill. I had planned for minimum 14 mph on the bike and I was doing closer to 15 on the first section and feeling really excited about that but I couldn't maintain it on the rolling hills. There's an out and back on 1694 (sweet gum road according to Unca Bob who grew up there) that has two big hills. Major hills that are long and steep. The younger men who are strong and anxious to be fast were screaming "LEFT!!!" as they flashed by doing close to 50 mph. I managed to use the speed and got up to 35 mph going down but up was tough. I think I was doing 3 mph on the biggest hill up. This dropped my speed average to 14.5 right away. I got back out and into the loop pretty well with a couple rolling hills, but the turn into the loop brought new big hills and tough climbs. My speed dropped to 14.3 then 14.2, then 14.1...I was dismayed at the declines but kept going. On the back side of the loop there is a brief respite from the hills through La Grange. I was doing 17-22 mph through there but the turn brought more hills and a couple of steep climbs. I had to walk up the Sligo hill for a short way, it caught me by surprise. I rode up it on the second loop. More speed bled away and I was doing an avg of 13.9 mph. Back to US 42 (river road) the head winds kicked in and getting to the turn for loop two was a challenge. I had been hydrating well but not eating enough. I find it really tough to eat on hills. It slows you down to fool with packets etc and I was reluctant to sacrifice my speed, but without flats I had to make the choice. By mile 66, where the special needs bags where, I was a bit dizzy and knew I hadn't had enough nutrition. I had put peanut butter and jelly on GF bread, snickers, fritos and a coke (plus an extra CO2 that I retrieved) in my special needs bag. I stopped an ate the sandwich, some fritos, got someone to open the coke for me ( it was Mexican coke with real sugar and no twist off cap) and one tiny snickers bar down me, hit the porta potty and headed out. I burped peanut butter for about 10 miles but clearly the food rejuvenated me because I had the energy I needed for that second loop and the long slow ride back to transition. The bike elevation profile on the IM LOU web page seems to indicate that the trip from mile 90 on is all downhill. IT IS NOT ALL DOWNHILL. Boy was that a lie. That was one long tough ride back. My right foot was screaming in pain and my left hamstring was threatening to clench off and on. I was watching the time the whole way back worrying that I was going to miss the cut off. At the course talk the announcer had said on Thursday that the cut off was 5:30. I did not know he was mistaken. At 5 PM I calculated that I'd be lucky to get in by 5:30. I pushed myself and tried to get more speed but I was very worn down, left leg cramped off and on...I did as much and went as hard as I could. I had DNFd at the bike in Honu and did not want to relive that. I had carried my phone because I wanted my parents to track me so I grabbed it and stuck it into my jacket as I cruised to the dismount. I arrived at the bike dismount at 5:45 feeling let down and expecting to be told I was done. Instead I was greeted by happy volunteers and when I asked they said I had 45 mins! I remembered to hit my Garmin lap button (yay!) and ran down the chute to hand off my bike and get my run gear bag. TRANSITION 2
I want to say thank you to that lovely young woman volunteer who helped me get into my clothes, put water into my bottle, got a band aid and alcohol and put it on my little toe on my right foot (boy it was very tender, nearly jumped through the roof when she touched it.) This poor woman actually had to help me pull up my compression pants because I could not use my arms. I got my sunscreen on and grabbed some sport beans and headed out. I knew right away there would not immediately be any running going on. I saw Ovetta again at the run out, got a big hug and encouragement and took off. I had six hours to do 26.2 miles and the big question in my mind was, can I get 4.5 mph out of this body? I hit my last Garmin lap button and headed out to try.
RUN LEG 6:33
RUN LEG 6:33
I met a guy who was in the same condition, unable to run, and we walked and talked for awhile but he clearly didn't like my use of profanity and dropped off at an aid station about mile 3. He became very quiet after I used the word Shit when I dropped my nutrition. I'm not one to censor myself for anyone much so I mentally wished him luck and trudged on. I tried to run at mile three but even running I was not getting more than 14 min miles and I could feel both hamstrings and quads tensing and releasing and clenching as I ran. I figured I'd do what I could and keep moving forward.
Just a shameless plug for my favorite nutrition: HUMA gel. I also use Base Salt on the run. The gel, when I could get it down, really seemed to help me to run. The cramping would subside and I could do a .25 mile but it would come back. Lesson: use more Huma on the bike. I don't like gels alot on the bike because sticky ride. However, the combination of glucose and chia seed fat seems to help my body to function. The salt also helped but nothing would keep me going for more than a half mile or so before cramps would start to stiffen my legs and threaten to stop me completely. I tried repeatedly to run and get those 2 miles into m the 6 hours I had but my body wasn't participating with the idea that I had to go more than 4 mph that day.
THE LAST DROP
This is the part of the day that was really the most memorable. I saw my parents at mile 4 and again at mile 7 when I came back from the turnaround. I gave them a hug, they took my photo and my dad said "are you going to finish?" with a worried look. I said yes. I knew they were leaving at that point because I had told them I didn't want them to stay late waiting for me and get too tired out. They are both about 80 and I worried it was too much for them.
By mile 10, I pretty much knew I wasn't going to make it to the finish by midnight. I considered quitting once or twice but not very seriously. Coach Chris Navin told me "if you know you're not going to make it, keep going. No matter when you arrive, I'll be at the finish waiting for you." I heard his voice in my head and after 6 years of following his instructions and 35 years of waiting for this chance I was not going to just cede this race. I was going to go as long as I was allowed on the course.
KEEP MOVING!
At mile 13 I was on the verge of tears, knowing for sure that I was going to fail to finish and DNF. Not because I'd done all that work but because I just was going to miss it. At special needs I asked for my bag, got my new armwarmers and my jacket and left the rest. I didn't need food I needed speed. The volunteer asked me how much I was hurting. I began to cry. He told me that 2 years ago he was vomiting on the course and barely able to move and made the finish with 7 seconds to spare...."Keep moving!" I walked as fast as my legs would carry me. I could feel the blisters on the balls of my feet and one on my right big toe. At mile 14 I met a guy walking at 13.5 min pace but couldn't keep up. He encouraged me but was soon off in the distance. I made the turn around before 11 PM cutoff and it was very lonely out there. There were two people who passed me but plenty behind me. I got to mile 20 and it got even quieter. I didn't realize it but they were emptying the course behind me. Everyone on the course behind me was picked up and on the van. I was intercepted by a van driver at mile 20.5 and asked if I wanted a ride to the finish. I said no. He asked how I was, I said I was fine I just wanted to finish. He said okay. I kept walking. I saw volunteers who had like six cups of water and asked for water. They cheered for me and told me to keep going. I kept going. Another van came by asked me the same series of questions at mile 21 and again they allowed me to stay on the course. I met another volunteer, TR, who walked with me for a block and told me I was awesome and said "keep going!" At mile 22 Chris Navin and Shelley Sarson came out of nowhere to capture me in hugs and encouragement. "keep going!" I kept going.
At mile 23 another van came by, asked the same series of questions and allowed me to continue. At that point I picked up a police escort who followed me all the way to the turn into the finish. So with a police car following me I pretty much knew I was the last lone racer on the course. I knew all the policemen at the corners were waiting for me to go by so they could go home. I tried to thank them all but I was not feeling like talking much towards the end. I wrote a thank you to the Louisville Courier Journal today to all the policemen for their patience with my slow progress.
At mile 25.7, Masumi met me and told me she was proud of me, gave me a hug, walked with me to the chute and kept me going. We talked a bit and I confessed that I had tried to my best to run...I felt like I had somehow not given my all to get there..I wasn't crawling, I was upright and coherent but very tired. I asked myself if I could have done more and gotten that extra bit of speed, knowing full well that my body had been my governor on speed all night. While still moving, I realized later that I was a bit worse off than I had recognized physically..the endorphins were keeping me upright.
As we walked, people who had long ago finished shouted their support and encouragement and told me I was awesome and to "keep moving!"
When I got to the finish chute Masumi gave me a push to the right of the garbage truck parked in the entrance and I managed to run across the finish. With about 20 people shouting and cheering, I made my final steps. The guys at the finish, apparently asked to wait for me by Masumi, were there congratulating me. I was crying and saying I was glad I did it but just not fast enough. They both said, "you are an ironman!!!" and gave me a medal, a tshirt and a finisher cap which I was astonished to receive. It made me so happy to have completed that distance, to have accomplished that long held and almost abandoned dream. I am always surprised when I'm not alone...I have had to do so much completely by myself with little help, that having so many people encouraging me and happy for me is an overwhelming expression of love. I can hardly accept it, feeling unworthy of it all.
So at 12:33 AM, I completed 140.6 miles and stepped into a future where I think of myself in a very different way. I realize I have some extremely good friends and that I can make my future on some very impossible sounding goals and reach them. Because friends.
GRATITUDE
GRATITUDE
Thank you to Coach Chris Navin for being there from the beginning and especially that night after being sick and crashing from your own race. You got up and made good on that promise and I would not have blamed you if you had not been there. But you are my hero for being there and helping me gather my stuff at 1 AM when everyone was gone and the course was empty. I don't know if I could have gotten myself home without your help. And Shelley, for your help and encouragement. You said what I needed to hear at mile 22. (stop the negative talking and just go!) Thank you. And Masumi, how can I ever thank you for being part of my IM trek?
EPILOGUE
For two days I told myself it was okay that I finished and that's all that counts but in the back of my mind I was thinking "I finished at 12:33 AM, that's 17 hours and 3 mins so really I didn't even make it in by the official time.' That truly disappointed me. Until, Bo Lackey, someone from the FB IMLOU pages I only know from there, sent me a PM. He said "what time did you start your swim?" I said "7:40" He said "then you finished in 16:53, and you are an ironman." I started crying. I had not realized just how important it was to me to have finished within the normal official 17 hours. But it was. It was very important. That note changed my whole attitude about my finish. I made it special and shiny and great. Thank you Bo.
Today my dad told me he had been pretty sure I would not be able to do it. He had seen me at NOLA and IM Haines city 70.3 races and he told me I looked so spent at the end of those races he wasn't sure I could handle it. He said "you must've trained a hell of a lot this summer!!"
I told my daughter the story of the finish. Her response was "That's even better than a winning finish, mom. What a great story! To be the absolute last person and have all that just for you...you were really special out there. You did a great job!"
I don't think I've ever been prouder of what could be called a failure, but to hear my daughter so proud of me, was worth every step and every minute after midnight it took to arrive.
I am so lucky. I am an ironman.
