On IRONMAN day.
The thought at this point is mildly terrifying. Electrifying. And almost dreamlike.
Ironman Cozumel Swim Course
Dreamlike, right? I've never seen such crystal clear, blue, clear water. But I'm doubtful of the calmness that this picture portrays. For I know that even though I've chosen a race with the #2 ranked swim on the entire Ironman circuit, it is unlikely to be the "lamb" of a course, that is shown above.
IRONMAN COZUMEL.
First things first, if you know me personally, you know my husband just finished his first IM. He trained diligently, consistently, and super-humanly for 10 months while enduring a grueling work schedule that included 24hour-7day duty weeks, and anything but typical hours. Let's be honest. I work IN the fitness industry. I workout FOR A LIVING...so the training aspect, for me, should be an easier road. I have more time. For us, Kris' IMTX journey was a labor of love. A lot of his time was spent before or after work. My focus is to get in my training while he is at work, so that the work is done by the time the evening hours come. I'm lucky. He was not. His road was a balancing act of epic proportions. Mine will be a test of time management, and sacrificing my down time for training time, week after week.
My husband completed literally the toughest Ironman around 2 weeks ago. The week leading up to it, I was racked with anxiety. My training partners and clients can tell you. M-W that week, I showed up at 6am, wide eyed and tired. Spouting "I'm just ready for this to be over." I had a bad sinus infection I was hell bent on not bestowing on the soon to be Ironman, and I wasn't sleeping. He was, I was not. Which is good...since he was the one racing. God has a strange way of working. Kristofor didn't get sick. Even though he was sleeping next to a fever riddled, sniffly, coughy, sneezy, mess of a wife. I prayed nightly that it wouldn't hit him, and it didn't.
As we packed up the car on Thursday morning to leave, I knew we would return differently. The Ironman journey for us, had changed our dynamic. We had so gotten used to the day in day out goings of planning for a race of this magnitude. It sounds selfish. But my client/friend/Dr. Claudia can agree. The weeks leading up to the race, we were as much doing the race as our husbands were. You see, this is a very selfish goal. It is. The time, the emotional trials, it takes a lot. Gives a lot in the end, but takes a lot for the duration. IMTX for us, for me, felt like my race.
When I watched my husband enter the swim start on May 18th, I cried. I hung close to our best friend Mark, who in his bewildered amazement, didn't really realize the gravity of what this event meant. He was taking it all in for the first time. I was experiencing, the culmination of almost a year's worth of work. I told myself that I'd watch the swim, watch him through T1, then go back to the condo and rest before the run. Yeah RIGHT. No sooner than breakfast and Lulu expedition completed, I was ready to find my husband on the bike course to make sure he was OK.
Mark and I spent over 3 hours trying to track Kristofor down. We ran into road blocks all over the Woodlands and Montgomery County. Race related back ups. We never saw him. I was sitting at mile 90 when I looked on my phone to see he had finished the bike course. And he was almost 9 miles into the run before I got to the course through all the traffic to see him struggling.
Hot, Not happy Hubby at mile 9.
When I called my Mother in Law after I saw him, my report was not as upbeat as I had hoped. He was hot, grumpy, and walking. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want me to cheer, he just wanted to get away. I tried not to let it hurt my feelings. Robin said he was "acting like he is in labor" and to forget anything he said because he isn't thinking straight. I can't express how hot it was. I was standing and was covered in sweat. I was dehydrated, and I wasn't racing. It was pure awful. I watched so many people struggle. I have never seen so many people trudge forward with such a look of "oh my gosh I want to pass out right here" attitude. Brutal. Except for my friend Javier....who was the quintessential HAPPIEST IRONMAN TO BE ON EARTH. He passed us smiling from ear to ear every time. That made me cry. I was worried for my husband, but I cried to see his friend so happy to be on the course.
As I was watching across the lake, I saw Kristofor come around for the 2nd lap. Mile 13ish. I followed him along the lake. He saw me, he pointed, I pointed back. I followed him, across the lake, step for step, until he went to the outer loop. And I waited for him at mile 17. When he emerged around the corner, I told him to pick up his feet and run. It was cooler now. He had eaten a bit. He and I chatted, and I can't remember what about. Then Mark saw us, and he gave him the most colorful pep talk ever. Like an Army General yelling at a troop. Whatever he said made Kristofor pick up his feet, and for the first time, I saw him run. Not trot. Not walk. But run.
When we caught up to our group, Jun! JUN! Was there (thank GOD!), I was so excited to see that man, the IRONMAN himself. He said Kristofor had run by and looked strong. We headed to the finish line. Even though we knew it would be a while, the anticipation of the finish had begun.
I will say this. I love a finish line. There is no purer place in the world than a finish line of a race. Any race. That's why the Boston Tragedy hit me so hard. I love the finish. Who dares mess with that. The Ironman finish was so much greater than I had ever experienced. Electric. Cheesy, but the God's were at that place. It was so pure, so happy, so giving to the athletes, so emotional, so perfect. Nothing I've ever experienced compared to that finish line.
As my phone battery dwindled, I tried my best to keep family and friends up to date with Kristofor's ETA. When I saw him, I was surprised I didn't cry. I couldn't. I was too happy to cry. Tears in any form would have been too much. I just screamed. Yelled so loud. And when he crossed, I couldn't wait to get to him. Mark and I weaved our way through the crowds, and greeted our Ironman not 5 minutes after his finish.
IRONMAN!
Mark, IRONMAN, Me!
Naturally, after 14 plus hours, Kristofor was ready to get home. He couldn't wait to watch the others, he needed to change and eat NOW. He was hurting a bit. Thank goodness for my friend, Stefanie, she drove Mark to our car parked in BFE and allowed Kristofor the curbside service he needed. I ran into the HEB to buy the last minute supplies for the feast we were about to cook.
The ride back to Lake Conroe was short. Mark and I started on the post Ironman feast while Kristofor winded down, and by the end of the night, the Vazquez's had joined us with IRONMAN Javier, and we all ate a large fajita fiesta and were ready to call it a night. 22 hour day done. Yes 22 hours. No nap.
Kristofor had a fever. I know I shouldn't have worried with a Dr. sleeping right above us, but I did. He slept fitfully, but woke in the morning ready to eat and move around. Same for Javier, they woke up early, and hungry. We ate Cheesecake Factory 2x on Sunday. Special, I know. Ironman gets what an Ironman wants! We took Mark to the airport and headed to our hotel in Katy for the last night. His Ironman journey was coming to a close. We passed out cold that night. Ironman weekend almost....DONE.
So here's the thing. A few weeks before IMTX, I found my needle in a haystack. For a year, I'd been searching for a triathlon bike. I've never been comfortable on my road bike. Even after I got a good fit. It wasn't for me. I had never stopped searching. The week before we left for the Woodlands. I found my bike. I found my needle. And after some prompting, I schedule an appointment with Tad Hughes Bike Fit Studio in Houston, for the Monday after Kristofor's race. So we had carted my bike up so that I could get some work done.
I can't stress enough how much doing that fit did for me. It made me a believer. A believer that I could do what I've wanted to do since Kristofor pressed the "go" button on Ironman last year. Tad fit me to my bike. He is a genius. He told me that it not only fit me, but he changed my shoes, my pedals, my aero bars, everything so that it helped my pronating right foot, and evened me out so I was finally comfortable. He even, with just looking at me stretch, was able to tell me how I sleep. And he was dead on. I was amazed. I learned a lot about my ability in that 2 hour session. And I came home and rode 35 miles. IMMEDIATELY. Comfortably.
I spend a lot of time here, now.
Yes, my bike is super miniature. Yes, it looks like an American Girl's bike. But it fits me like a glove. And that is all I wanted. And I love it. I've logged 200 miles since we got home. A start of a long road. And like I promised myself...
I signed up for my Ironman once my bikefit was done. It was my last puzzle piece.
Kristofor has talked about our "bucket list" of things we want to do before we "settle down." For me, Ironman has been one of those things. Now don't get ahead of yourself (Mom.....)....but finally getting to do what I've wanted to do makes me feel like I'm finally "sowing my oats." My oats just happen to be large endurance races.
I very begrudgingly dropped out of my bikini competition a couple of months ago. Hard decision. Renea told me, what I knew in my heart. I wouldn't forgive myself if I injured myself doing something that wasn't what I really wanted to do more than anything. And although I love fitness competition and what that training brought to me, my "more than anything" has been Ironman...for a while. In the same way that Marathon was to me 3 years ago. I want that challenge. I need it. I want to push my mental and physical limit past something that I know I can't just "go out and do for fun." I am going to have to work my ass off in the next 6 months. I know it. I feel it. I am ready for it.
Since March, I feel like I've really set up myself to go into this well. I have lost a total of 8.6 lbs of fat off my body. I have gained 5lbs of muscle. I am stronger than I have ever been. I am leaner. My running times have improved (from what little running I have done...), and while cycling, I don't feel as fatigued. I have been able to transition from bike to run easier than last year. And my first litmus test will be a Duathlon next weekend.
I plan to do an Olympic tri, a half iron, and a half marathon before I head to IMCZ. I am getting a swim coach. I have a training plan and a group that I've joined online for help and support. I'm doing yoga 2-3x a week. And I plan to do a lot of open water swimming in Maine on our vacay in 3 weeks. I'm optimistic.
Watching my husband complete his amazing Ironman race inspired me. Living the training with him for 10 months taught me how it gets done, and inspired me. Pretty much, watching him from the beginning made me want to play monkey see monkey do, and go out and power through 140.6 miles. So that's what I'm going to do. After 6 month of hard work.
I have the biggest cheering section around. Bod Squad. When I told them I was going to do IMCZ, I was met with hugs and huge smiles and plans to come watch. My sisters (co-workers) are 100% on my side. In the same way that I've watched and cheered them and will cheer them onto their stage on July 13th, they will cheer me to my start line December 1st.
BUT, I know that 6 months from today, anything can happen. And I know that between now and then, a whole lot is going to go wrong, frustrate, and annoy me. I plan to draw on the strengths of my girls that I train every day for inspiration. If they can succeed with busy schedules and kids and crazy lives, then I can do this. If they can devote themselves, then I can devote myself. If I can watch my Bod Squad teammates go through 16+ weeks of competition prep, then I can do 6 months of this with them by my side.
I am immensely lucky. No matter what happens in the next few months, I will be grateful, even when I'm grumpy, happy even when I'm horrifically tired. And I will be steadfast in my goal to finish, even when Pendleton Pool smells bad, it's 800 degrees outside with a 20 mph head wind and I don't want to ride my bike, and even when I get stung by bees (which happened last week...so...I'm already good...).
I'm changing this blog to the little Ironman that could. Maybe...eventually.
Thanks for cheering me on!
Lacy
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