So without further ado....Yes, I made it into chapters.
Chapter 1: The Last 2 weeks
I'm gonna go back in time just a bit. To the week before the week I left. What. A. Doozy. That week was. I was so jam packed busy. Stressed out, things flying at my from a million directions. All I was trying to do was get to the 28th when I would be on that plane headed to Cozumel, and it seemed at the time like it would never come. I had my penultimate break down that week. But all break downs lead to great comebacks in my book. And by the time I got to the weekend before the race, all was right in the world. So right in fact that I was completely (and yes, I was legit surprised) surprised when my husband and friends had planned a send-off party for me!
Send Off Party Happiness!
It was amazing to get to see all of my clients, family, friends gathered together to wish me well as I went off into the great Caribbean Sunset. And it definitely put me in the right mood heading into my final week.
The following day, I woke up with the crud. Naturally. So I headed to my friendly beautiful Jessica Ochoa to get the skinny on my sniffles. B12 shot and MY ONLY prednisone shot of the entire Ironman experience (that is a huge win!), and I was feeling mostly on the mend.
Monday and Tuesday flew by, Wednesday was a blur, and Thursday morning at 5:30AM I was standing in line with Kristofor checking my bike and suitcase and boarding a plane.
Chapter 2: The Arrival
Now let's talk about the goat rope it was getting to the small island of Cozumel. And I mean goat rope in the happiest of terms. So we fly out of McAllen right. So we leave Harlingen at 415AM-ish. We get to McAllen, check in, board plane....fly to DALLAS. Seems normal since you know Dallas is 10 hours NORTH of us, and Cozumel (Cancun...) is 1,570 miles South of us. Board plane in Dallas full of Ironpeople (met a super nice first time Ironman-er on the plane, can't remember her name, but she will make an appearance later). Land in Cancun. Clear customs. Who knew I knew so much Spanish!! Wait for an hour for the ADO bus to take us to Playa del Carmen.
Side Note: It was at this juncture that we met a key character in our journey, friendly triathlete number one. Keith, and his girlfriend. 4x IM finisher. 3X Cozumel IM Finisher. Bad ass dude. He definitely kept us entertained while we waited for the bus....and he makes another appearance in this blog book as well.
Board the bus. Make approximately 8 stops at different airport terminals and then one shady stop in some gas station parking lot (????) to drop off a single passenger, then onto Playa. Get off bus. Haul huge bike, suitcase, carry on, etc down cobblestone streets through the downtown area of Playa del Carmen. (THANK GOD THERE WERE LIKE 20 OTHER triathletes doing the same thing...monkey see...monkey do). Purchase Ferry tickets. Sit with Keith and his girlfriend watching all the drunk people on the beach for approximately 1.5 hours.
Lets talk about this ferry. Lets talk about boats in the ocean.
I don't do them. K thanks.
I spent a long time on a beautiful whale watching cruise on our honeymoon puking up "Sneaky Tiki" drinks in the hull of that sailboat. I once got seasick sitting on my boss's boat that was parked in a harbor. I don't do ocean and boats.
But HEY! Let's go somewhere where I have to board a FERRY and RIDE ACROSS an OCEAN for 45 MINUTES to get to our final destination. Amazing.
Also, it was like a hurricane in the water. Not kidding. Swells were super high. So high, when we finally boarded said Ferry (**can I mention we had to board our suitcases AND my bike onto this Ferry too???) they HANDED us barf bags. Yay. El Yay! I tried to sleep on that Ferry. I did not get sick.
That was my first victory of the trip. I did not puke on the Ferry to Cozumel. Yes I saw people that had to puke on the Ferry. I did not puke on the Ferry. Or "water jet" as some call it. Ok so the Ferry docks. We get off the Ferry. Here...they THROW our suitcases to each other off of the Ferry, we then carry my bike, our luggage to the end of the pier and get in a CAB to head to our hotel. Cozumel Palace. By this time it was 4pm. We started at 4AM. Holy effing smokes. That was a long day.
We will fly direct into Cozumel next time.
Checked in to the most lovely of establishments. Got greeted with a hot towel and a flower, SCORE!!! And looked around. Ironmen, everywhere! And I mean everywhere. Green athlete bracelets galore. And it was here that I first realized my rookie mistake. I packed my clothes wrong.
I packed the wrong damn clothes. All these people. ALL THESE PEOPLE. ALL THEY WORE, was race shirts. Vineman 70.3 shirts, Houston Marathon shirts, Austin Marathon shirts, Ironman Louisville Finisher Shirts, Ironman China polo shirts, Redman 140.6 Jackets, get the picture. This hotel was like a walking race advertisement. EVERYONE, and I'm not exaggerating...EVERYONE had on other race gear.
Well ugh friggin' ugh. I didn't bring anything like that :(. Kris did. Naturally. So he was able to "fit in." I would have killed to have on one of my shirts. But hey, I was cool with being different. I was like all incognito Ironman racer.
Our hotel and room was amazing. I will probably talk a lot about Cozumel Palace in this blog. Because you know, it was just so downright wonderful. They should hire me as their rep, because I'm like their biggest fan. I felt like royalty, and it was an amazing stay!
Chapter 3: Sniffles and PACKET PICKUP!
Let me tell you that vacation prior to an Ironman is pretty boring. I didn't want to drink because I was still somewhat sicky. And I was about to race. I didn't want to eat anything crazy because I was still somewhat sicky. And I didn't want gastro problems. I didn't want to be out in the pool area because I didn't want to get burned before the race. I was a barrel of good times! Mostly, we just chilled in the room the first night. I used the GIANT jacuzzi tub (full of my YLEO oils may I add...) to soak and relax. And I was taking regular doses of Claritin-D, Mucinex, eating zinc tablets, benadryl to sleep, and I was applying drops and handfuls of Frankicense, Lavender, Peppermint, drinking Lemon oil, Purification, all over. ALLLLLLLL OVER. I usually do one or the other...but I was a bit desperate to get all better, not sniffly before Sunday. I messaged Lauren Down (my Oily Angel) numerous times to make sure I was doing it all right, and slowly my chest congestion and cough eased leading up to Sunday.
Friday Morning I was itching to get to Punta Langosta Shopping Center to grab all of my gear. My first IM packet pickup. After a small mix up with the Mexican Triathlon Association (thanks nice man that believed that I had already paid my entry fee!!), I was handed my trusty bag full of race numbers, bibs, bike and run bags, special needs bags, AMAZING NEW IRONMAN COZUMEL Jacket!, instructions, etc. And then I went shopping.
Let me say this. If you do Ironman, you may as well drink the World Triathlon Corporation koolaid and buy massive quantities of IM (IRONMAN...) schwag. Its like a right of passage. In 6th grade my Mom let me shave my legs. Two days before my 31st birthday, I was allowed to start buying IM gear. Made it out of the tent with a t-shirt, water bottles, and a new tri top. Kris bought a Mexican Triathlon Association shirt...that is super rad. My most favorite gift was given to me when I picked up my packet though...my green nifty ATHLETE bracelet that labeled me as a competitor in Sunday's race.
Who needs a tattoo...I had my green bracelet, from the moment I walked out of Punta Langosta and back into our hotel, that damn bracelet made me one of the crowd. I was part of the clique! BOOM! I had a bracelet....
....I still have the bracelet on. I refuse to take it off. I may take it off at 10:47 tonight. But I may not. I may wear it until it rots off. I don't know.
I remembered back to my first packet pickup of my first race ever, 3M Half Marathon in January of 2010. I had that same feeling. You only get those moments once. Those "first" moments. I've said this a lot this week. About the "first moments."
Chapter 4: Big Bad Water
Let's talk for a minute about the ocean. The ocean is scary. The ocean is beautiful. The ocean is wild and untamed. And the ocean is unpredictable. The days leading up to IM Cozumel...the ocean was pissed. Those waves weren't playing. They cancelled our practice swim on Friday, but in the afternoon, I decided to hop in to see what it was about. I lasted less than 5 min. I only told Celena...but I had serious doubts about swimming in the conditions we had down there. I got knocked around quite a bit on the 2x I jumped in. I didn't feel like I could get into a rhythm without being knocked by a big wave. Other people jumped in and jumped out and came out with similar looks. And it was hard to tell if the ones that came out and said "its not that bad!!" were meaning it or if they were just trying to convince themselves. We had met a group of triathletes (Stacy, Tracy and Bryan) from Ohio. We talked ad nauseum with them about what would happen to the swim course. We met an IM Kona qualifier and tri coach from Dallas, Jim, at the hotel bar. He was sure they would cancel it or change the swim if conditions didn't let up. He said he wouldn't swim in it, nor would he let his wife (who was competing) swim in it. That eased my mind, but rattled my soul.
I cried on Friday once. That water, it was not getting better. They canceled our practice swim on Saturday. They had closed the harbor to all small boats, so the fact was. We could swim in it, but the boats to rescue us should something go awry, weren't allowed in the water. And anytime you are dealing with tough surf, you are dealing with putting not only the swimmers at risk, but also the rescue crews. Statically, when there are casualties in triathlon, they are during the swim portion. Its the shortest, but decidedly, the most dangerous. The race officials were taking the conditions very seriously. And there was lots of chatter on Saturday that the race would be made into a duathlon.
RUN. BIKE. RUN.
Obviously, I was feeling devastated at this prospect. I had come to Cozumel to do a TRIATHLON, not a duathlon. But it was completely out of my control. We kept getting messages about "it's calming down", "conditions are set to improve." But at 6:30PM on Saturday, while I was sitting in my jacuzzi, downing my glass of wine to calm my nerves, I got the email.
They had not cancelled our swim, but had instead changed the course, shortened it a bit, and made it more "manageable". I cannot tell you the immense sigh of relief I had. The not knowing had made me ill feeling all week. Looking out our balcony at the ocean had given me a sense of dread and despair, but knowing that they were "fixing" it to the best of their ability definitely gave me a sense of peace.
I was to swim, what actually ended up being a 1.95 mile, point to point, with current, swim course.
Now this opened up a whole new level of bitching. Some people on the FB page of IM Cozumel branded this "not a real ironman" "world triathlon corp going soft" etc. That made me sick. Not sick sad, sick disgusted. If anyone for a second thinks that changing a course that is 140.6 miles LONG by .45 miles for the safety of its participants doesn't make you an IRONMAN. Then you have completely missed the point of the whole experience. I had swam 2.4 miles. I knew I could. But here's the gist.
If they didn't change the course, it was unsafe for competitors and for the rescue staff. People die in rough water. People that are competing and people that are saving them. Did anyone want that stain on their medal when they finished? Because I didn't. I made more than the .45 missed up on the bike course that was 1.65 miles long. It made no difference to me. It only made me go to sleep on Saturday night knowing that a plan was in place to do their best to keep me and my fellow competitors safe. THAT is what mattered.
Chapter 5: UP and At EM'
I did sleep on Saturday night. I carbed up early, at a late night (9pm...) snack of chicken fajitas and black beans to get more protein in, and passed out. When my alarm woke me up at 3:45AM, I was ready to go. By 4:15AM I was down in the lobby eating the amazing spread the hotel had out for us. They took such good care of us. They left me a note the night before saying "They knew me to be a person of strong will and determination" and that they would be available for anything that I would need overnight. That morning, they had anything I could think of available. And I ate. A lot. Because it was more than 3 hours from race start, I had time to eat a huge meal and let it settle. I've told my run team girls before, wake up and EAT! I practiced what I preached.
We left the hotel about 5AM and walked up a couple of blocks to the Hotel Cozumel where the buses would take us down the island to T1 (transition 1...where my bike was). Being on a bus with about 75 other hot and anxious competitors and friends was a bit nerve racking. It felt like it took forever to get 4km down the road. The bus was PACKED. I was standing in the aisle, and it was hot. Did I say it was HOT. Yeah. And I had a sweat shirt on. I was dying. Couldn't have been happier to get off the bus and go check on my bike. I had dropped it off on Saturday in its #1609 spot, but I had to come back in the morning to load it up with water, my gels, Bonk Breaker bars, and get the tires aired up. I also made my first trip of the day to the port-a-potty.
Port-a-Potties may get their own chapter. I'm serious.
I lucked out and was able to go in the women's changing tent and didn't have to wait in line...and it was clean. I finished up in T1 and headed out, met with Kristofor, and the first sunscreening began.
Let's talk about sunscreen. I am pale as a ghost. Other than finishing the Ironman. One of my other goals was to finish the Ironman without any 3rd degree sunburns. I got burned very badly on my hands and wrists during my 100 mile ride, and it scared me. It took forever to heal, so sunscreening was on the top of my list as far as important things to do. So Kristofor did the first application of the day, and I took that moment to make my one phone call.
Lorena.
Why Lo? Well, she kind of got stuck with the job. Before my half iron, I called her panicked. My bike computer was broken, my bike shoe was broken, and I was proclaiming that I didn't want to do it. I knew she was awake because she had just texted me from the Soccer Complex (she was helping with run team). She calmed me down, told me to shut the hell up that all the girls were excited for my race and to get over it and just do the damn thing. So I did. And I had an amazing experience during my 70.3.
So I told her I would call her at 6am before I started the swim. I had added international calling to my plan, so I had a few minutes. At 5:57, she answered and said she had been up all night nervous. I was however, not nervous. And she noticed. We giggled and laughed and she told me that it was all going to be ok and that she couldn't wait to track me. It was good to hear her voice. She's been with me for over 2 years now, she challenges me from time to time (I need that...), but she also knows how to put me in my place and I listen...that's because she is a teacher and a damn good one. So I let her boss me around before big races. It works. NEW TRADITION!
Once the phone call was made, Kristofor walked me to the buses where we would have to say goodbye. Since they changed the swim, spectators couldn't watch (like they usually can from the regular starting spot). Competitors only had to board a bus, barefoot or lose your sandals (YIKES!), to head to the Presidente Hotel where the swim would commence. I got a little teary before this. One part of me was thankful to be heading out alone. Kristofor gets very nervous when I swim, so I usually try to separate myself anyways to get away from his nerves...but this was a big separation, and I knew I wouldn't see him again until after T1 (or so I thought). He took this video of me, and every time I watch it makes me get misty. I was obviously nervous, my hands are all over, and I was very emotional. I'm glad I had him video and not just take pictures. Pictures tell a lot...but this really really shows where I was at.
Right after that, I hugged my husband and got on the bus.
Chapter 6: THE SWIM
I'll start "THE SWIM" not by when I got in the water, but by when the race started, for me.
It started when I got on the bus. After I said goodbye to Kristofor, I sat down, and I was quiet. I didn't cry, I didn't get overwhelmed, I was just quiet. Quite a prospect for me. I treated it like Yoga class with Heather, I was breathing, and I was silent.
When I got off at the Presidente, I hopped in a port-a-potty line. I was quiet. I put on my swim skin. A stranger helped me zip it up, but I was still quiet. I walked through the hotel grounds alone, and I stood on the beach. And then I saw Keith. Cancun Airport Keith. He congratulated me on getting here, asked me how I was feeling, and I talked but tried to keep it short. I saw Tracy from our hotel, and we chatted for a couple of minutes.
She got in the water, and I stayed behind. We had a few minutes still, and I just kept looking around. I tried to just really hear the sounds that were going on around me, breathe the air (cheesy I know), and look at the water. The water wasn't as angry on Sunday, but it was so blue and clear. And seeing all the colorful swimmers and the red and yellow swim caps bobbing up and down in the huge ocean was like nothing I'd ever seen at the smaller races that I've been accustomed to. I waded in, it was colder than I thought it would be, and I breast stroked out towards the back half of the group that had formed. My plan all along had been to not be up at the front. I am not a bad swimmer, but I am small, and though I don't panic, I am definitely not hanging with the big dogs or swimming to be in the lead. I needed to stay in the back half. Though it didn't matter on Sunday. Everyone was looking to do a blow out swim since it had been changed to swim with the current. I think a lot of people that had intended to "just swim" were now intending to "get a HUGE PR" and that caused my first bit of heartache of the day.
My day almost ended before it began. And I say that not at all dramatically.
My day almost ended before it began.
I was holding on to a paddle board with about 12 or so other people. Still being quiet. There wasn't really a countdown, but the gun just went off. And a wall of arms came over my head. I was immediately trampled. The only other time I've ever felt like that was Spring Break 2002 when I was almost trampled outside of a concert at Schlitterbahn. You feel helpless, like it takes all your energy to move forward, and in the water it was even scarier.
I was under the water for what seemed like forever but was probably only a few seconds, I was actually UNDER all of the swimmers, looking up like the divers with the cameras were supposed to be. When I came up there were still crowds of swimmers and I got knocked around when I tried to even make 2 strokes forward. My heart rate was extremely high, and it was then that I thought that the day may be over. I wasn't sure I could do that if I had to fight that hard. It was all yellow caps that I saw (MEN), and no matter how I tried, forward progress wasn't happening, and my heart, it was beating so fast. I grabbed on to a rope that was there to keep us from going out further into the ocean. And I held on. I waited. I have no idea how long. Again, this whole scenario may have only been 45 seconds long, but it felt like forever. When the crowd had thinned, and my heart rate had come down (SOME...), I started to swim. I got bopped around a few more times, but after about the first 2 buoys, I had some serious space...so much so I thought I was the last one in the water. But I could swim. I did sets of 8 strokes, I counted to 8 three times (24 strokes) then I would "sight" in front of me to see that I was still on course. I could see the shore to my left (THANK GOD I BREATHE TO MY LEFT), and I could see a bunch of swimmers about 50m in front of me, so I knew I was ok. I just tried to stay calm, stay in rhythm, and try not to worry about how far I'd gone or how much I had left, I just tried to go at it and know that I was moving forward...like my bracelet affixed to my arm says...
KEEP MOVING FORWARD.
When I saw the big white changing tents on shore, I knew I was almost done. The current stalled at that point and I felt like it pushed me back and back, plus the swimmers in front of me had stalled so once again, I was swimming in a group. Which was ok. They were much less violent and I knew I was close to shore. The schools of fish were plentiful around the dock at Chankanaab Park, it was very beautiful, but I only really enjoyed it once I had made the sole turn into the dock. I saw the camera guy from under the water, and then I was hoisting myself up the stairway out of the water. And I saw the clock.
1:04. HOLY SHIT.
Best case scenario I was hoping for a 1:30 (with the 2.4 course). I knew I may get a little time with the shorter course and the current helping, but wow. I had done swims at the pace I finished in before...but not in the open water. So I was extremely shocked and surprised, and I'll take it. My nightmare had ended, I didn't drown, I got out of the fight, and my husband was there to watch me get out.
I headed to the showers to wash off the salt. My swim skin had carved up my neck pretty good, so I could feel that as I was taking it off. Into T1 I went.
Chapter 7: T1
I walked into the changing tent and I've never seen such nakedness. Naked women. Everywhere.
I had heard (from my husband who went into the Men's tent at IM Texas and was surrounded by naked dudes)...but wow. What a scene. Ironman kind of strips your dignity a bit. They say that happens when you have a baby, well, it happens during Ironman. Complete strangers, total naked. I didn't have to change, but I was definitely in the minority!
It was in here that I began the sunscreen application of the century. And the goop they used was so thick it tinted me a lovely shade of like light green...gross. But I had my "helper" put it all over me, and I kept asking for more. I had sunscreen everywhere, and I knew then that this was going to be one of the dirtiest experiences of my life. I drank water and tried to get the salt out of my mouth. I peed, I put Vaseline on my neck, I put on my helmet and shoes and I was on my way. As I walked out of T1...Kris videoed me. I told him I had never looked hotter. I looked like Casper the Midget Martian Triathlete. I hopped on, clipped in and rode away. And then began the next 8 or so hours of my life.
HEY!!! ARE YOU TIRED OF ME YET????? I TOLD YOU IT WAS GOING TO BE LONG!! ARE YOU SURPRISED???? ARE YOU BORED???? Keep reading. Or not. Its a free country.
Chapter 8: LOOP 1
For the bike I have to divide into the loops. Because each one was different and I can't compare my feelings on loop 1 vs loop 3. So deal with it. Also, I'm liking writing "chapter ___" I always wanted to be an author and this is amusing me.
The first 2 miles out of Chankanaab Park were exhilarating. There were people cheering, clapping, yelling, people everywhere, it was a new part of the island I hadn't seen. I was pumped up and full of adrenaline. I ate my first Bonk Breaker (PB&J!) and I sang my first song. Yes, I sang on my bike. Several times actually. I started off loop 1 singing...wait for it...
"Our God is an Awesome God! He Reigns from Heaven Above! With Wisdom Power and Love, OUR GOD IS AN AWESOME GOD!
Betcha didn't know I was religious! I actually kinda am. And this was a favorite from my youth. I also sang "Jesus loves the Little Children"....
Those are some JAMS!
About 8-10 miles in, it started to rain, and I started to squeal with delight. It felt sooooo good, and I was going SO FAST with a nice tail wind to help. As I rounded the corner, I saw what I can only describe as the most beautiful of oceans I'd ever seen. It was angry ocean, and the wind was angry too. It was like a wall had hit me. I shifted down into my small ring (HELL YEAH I KNOW ALL ABOUT DOING THAT STUFF NOW!!!!), to try and manage my energy output, but I kept marveling at the amazing scenery. White capped waves so huge they looked like they were going to come right over my head, I could feel the ocean spray. There were cyclists all around me. Slower, faster, MUCH FASTER. I was passed by the pros about 3 miles into the 12.5 mile back stretch. Watching them speed by on lap 2 was awesome.
The wind was so so strong. But all of it was new. I kept a 13-14mph pace through it. I knew the wind had to be above 20mph blowing straight at me, so I was ok with that. I had hit the 19-20mph range on my bike on the way out, so I knew it was going to be ok. I made sure to track how long that back stretch was so I knew how to plan for lap 2. You could really separate the course into 3 segments. The out from town past Chankanaab, the back half along the ocean, and the sharp turn into town past all the screaming fans. Each loop was 38 miles, except the last one was 33miles.
About 11 miles into the back half of loop 1, I saw a sign that said, Punta Morena. This seemed to be a touristy type spot, and I remembered that sign on lap 2 and 3 as a sign that the back half windy ride was almost over.
The first timing mat was at the corner of the end of the "back half" and the beginning of the "road into town". Here is how I viewed the timing mats. Every time I crossed one, it would let my family and friends know where I was. So I treated them like finish lines, little victories! If I crossed that mat, I knew people somewhere would cheer for me, and I kept that in my mind every time I saw a blue mat. I crossed that mat and saw the road into town and switched my gears again. I wasn't going as fast as before, but I was definitely able to pick it up.
I made my first bathroom stop at the aid station that I THOUGHT....keyword THOUGHT. Was right after the timing mat (I guessed about a mile). I felt good. I drank a gatorade and I hauled ass into town. It was amazing coming into downtown, and I knew I would see Kristofor and our hotel soon. When I saw him I screamed "I'M GOING TO BE A F***ING IRONMAN!" YEP...way to go Jesus song singing Lacy...way. to. go. And I was on my way to...
Chapter 9: Loop 2
Loop 2. Second time heading out, I was totally ok. I passed by the way out to Chankanaab for the first time, saw a lot of spectators, rode along the cobblestone streets. When I got past where T1 had been, it was now much quieter. The throngs of people had dissipated, they were now downtown watching the sights. The rain I had felt on the beginning of lap 2 had turned into humidy-soup like conditions. And the sun was out. The clouds had burned off. I was still keeping a good pace. And when I got to the "back half" the ocean, though beautiful (and still angry), wasn't new anymore...I had seen it...so I started to count the miles knowing I had 12.5 through the windy part. My speed had dropped to 12-13mph and I don't know if it was because of the hotter temps, but the wind didn't feel the same, it felt stronger, and I could feel myself zig zag more when the gusts came to call. Also, the top athletes were racing by me at top speeds finishing their last lap. I was getting passed on all sides, and HUGE pelatons (THAT IS ILLEGAL) were drafting together.
I drank a gatorade at the first aid station, stopped and went to the bathroom again. I had been eating my Bonk Breakers and taking Hammer Gel about ever 40-45 min. I was aiming for 200 calories an hour from my supply, plus adding gatorade to the mix. When I passed the "special needs" station a few more miles up the road, I didn't stop. That was my 2nd key mistake of the day (first being in the swim...). I should have stopped. I didn't realize I was about out of water, because I didn't refill at the aid station, I just went to the bathroom and drank my gatorade. I didn't fill up my bottles. Stupid.
I didn't panic because I thought to myself, the other aid station is "just a mile" up from the timing mats. Yeah...try 7 miles. 11 miles from Special Needs. I was passed by a group of 15 or so cyclists about a quarter mile from the timing mat. They all went over it as a group, which unbeknownst to me meant when I went over it, it didn't pick me up. So NO ONE knew where I was for a very very long stretch of time. I had no clue, but I was starting to get worried myself. The sun was so hot. The wind was at my back on the road into town, but I was sweating, and I threw up on my arm. Twice. My arm was covered in orange gatorade, and I began to cry. I didn't know why the aid station wasn't there...it felt like it came up so quick the first time, but now I had almost convinced myself it was gone. I didn't see many other cyclists. I saw a guy on the side of the road lying down waiting for a race official. I saw a few locals "cheering", mostly just watching. But the aid station didn't come. I was losing it. My speed was shitty even though I had the wind in my favor, but I was so hot.
When I did finally get to the aid station, I stumbled off of my bike and puked some more on the side of the port-a-potty. A race official started looking at me...and I tried to pull it together...no DQ for me (yep they will do that...). I took my helmet off, my glasses off, poured cold water all over me, wiped off the orange gatorade puke from my arm, blew my nose, went to the bathroom (it was NOT ok....), and I reapplied sunscreen. I tried to calm myself down. I must have been stopped for at least 20 min, maybe more. I puked a little more, washed my mouth out. They didn't have any food at that stop. All I wanted was a bagel or bread to be in my liquid-ey tummy...but no luck.
I filled my bottles of water and headed into town, I was much less jubilant when I saw Kristofor. He had been worried, as he informed me that I did not register at the last timing mat. I told him I had been sick. He told me I had 4.5 hours to do 40 miles. I thought to myself, I can do that. I CAN DO THAT. But I also turned off any sense of urgency I had about speed. Any unnecessary pushing of my body at that point, since I had been so pukey, could lead to me being DQed OR just simply being too messed up to finish. So I took it one mile at a time.
Chapter 10: Loop 3
I literally took it one mile at a time. Leading out past Chankanaab park, the road seemed so much more bumpy this time. It was downright rough. I hadn't felt that during my "brand new everything" first lap and my "YEAH I'M GOING TO BE AN IRONMAN" first part of the second lap. This time it was brutal feeling chip seal. And there was no one out there cheering. In fact, a ton of people had finished so there weren't near as many bikes out there. I felt kind of alone. Actually, I felt very alone. I started chanting "get off the chip sealed road" over and over. It helped me push and keep my mind on the piece of the lap I was taking on. Forget the rest of it, i just wanted to get through that one piece.
When I turned to the back half, I was almost drained of energy. I shifted to my small wheel, put my head down (literally...down...I have photos....), and just pedaled and tried to take big deep breathes. I felt super nauseous, but the breathing helped. I counted down the miles. But since I was going so slow, the time and mile gauge on my bike seemed to crawl by. It wasn't as hot, but I was so ready to be finished. I stopped to go to the bathroom again...yikes. And got back on my bike. The last 4 miles of that 12.5 mile back half. I sang.
And I cried. I sang, "Amarillo by Morning" like 4 times. I could not remember the words to anything, nor could I remember songs to sing. So I sang that, my Daddy and I's song, and I cried. Then I saw Punta Morena. And I sang Katy Perry "Roar". I know...so cool right. So appropriate. But I sang it loud. And I cried. I sang "You don't know me" by Ray Charles (I sang that at American Idol tryouts in 2005...), and I sang Celine Dion "Power of Love"...I sang that badly. But no one was listening....or so I thought.
I finally saw the timing mat, turned into the road to town, and I knew I had to stop at the last aid station to prepare myself before I made it into the madness that may be T2. And it's here, at that last aid station, where I do believe that God intervened. HE gave me a gift. I almost didn't stop. But I did.
And stopped at that aid station was another girl doing her first Ironman, Ali. I told her it was my birthday, she told me she had had quite a few flat tires that day. She never should have been finishing the bike with me. But that day she did. She headed off into town before me, and she got through T2 before me as well, but we would meet again.
I finished up the bike loop, saw Kristofor as I headed into Transition and he said "HEY YOU JUST FINISHED A 112 MILE BIKE RIDE!" I replied that it was 113.65 miles. I made up for that .45 on the damn swim.
Chapter 11: T2
I handed my bike off (never wanted to see that piece of crap again...). And thankfully grabbed my running shoes and my run bag. I nursed my feet with vaseline, wiped my face, packed up my helmet (hate that thing too), and slipped on the Mizunos. I turned on my Garmin, peed, and then headed out onto the road. It was raining.
Chapter 12: Pre-Ali Run (this is such an appropriate title!)
I sped off, looked at my Garmin and saw my 8:30 pace. Legs felt fresh (HOLY CRAP!!!) I could run. I actually wasn't feeling anything pain wise in my body, my legs felt like they were new. But I was effing hungry. And it was raining, and all the food had gotten wet. I could NOT stomach another gel. About mile 1.5 I saw a table with a lone bag of LIME FRITOS. I grabbed it, started walking in the rain and eating. Those were the best goddang chips of my life. Salty. What I needed. About mile 2 I had finished them, and I began to run, again, 8:30 pace. Sweet. Then it hit me.
Holy effing shit. (excuse me Mom Mom...). I have to run an ENTIRE MARATHON. 26.2 miles. And running marathons sucks. And I thought about how tired I was. How it was 5pm and I'd been up since 3:45am. And I had been moving since 7am. And I still had so long to go. This was the one time, the ONE TIME, I actually thought about calling it. Not during the puking on the bike or the hot ride to that aid station. On the cool, rainy, run. I wanted to be done. Also exacerbating my issue was my head. Not my mind, my head. The more I ran, the more I began to feel like I was "swimming" in my head. Like vertigo. Like I could be running fast...but I may fall over from the dizzy feeling. I knew I had a sinus infection and I had been blowing my nose all day, but I just felt "off". I didn't feel that on the bike, but the feeling was magnified when I would run. Walking it wasn't as bad, maybe because I wasn't being jostled around as much??? But I felt hazy.
So my legs worked, but my mind was effing done, and my head felt like a fishbowl bobbing in the ocean. Neat. Perfect for a marathon. I knew I could walk the whole thing, I had plenty of time, but I was so kind of down and out, and I knew I wouldn't see Kristofor until mile 8 or so.
I don't know what mile I saw her, I think it was about mile 3ish because we were way before the first timing mat at the half way point of the run. But I saw Ali walking (quickly!), and I began to walk with her.
Chapter 13: Post-Ali Run/Walk/Best Decision ever
We started to talk. She told me she had had food poisoning and was having trouble running. I told her I felt like I was losing steam. So we talked about our race up to that point. Introduced ourselves officially, and kept talking.
SIDE NOTE: And this is a compliment to each of the ladies. Ali and Irma. Irma is my Hero from Home. She and I have a super special bond. Especially with running. She is super smiley, upbeat, positive, and she "gets me" when I'm having a hard time. I joke with Irma for months that I wanted her at my finish line because gosh darnit, she just makes me feel more peaceful. So God sent me Ali. Who is like Irma. I think they almost look alike maybe! Not really...But they had the same sweet soul, same ability to keep me peaceful. And they both listen to my stories like champs. So Ali, thank you for being you, and for being like "my Irma" to me, and for now being "my Ali" because now we are Ironmates forever!
When we met up with Kristofor at about mile 7, I introduced him. We had decided to stay together. I wouldn't leave her, she wouldn't leave me, and we were going to eat something, walk lap 2, then get ready for a strong lap 3.
It was nice to have a plan. I love plans!
It was electric finishing lap 1 of the run and hearing and seeing the finish line, amazing! We definitely sped up at that mile or so. Kristofor had left to go get us food, we saw Ali's husband, and we were on our way for the 2nd go round. Ali cheered for everyone. She said so many cheers for people as we passed by. I hardly cheered bc I don't know...I was in a daze maybe, or too busy trying to cheer myself on in my own head. But she CHEERED. And she was positive. Me and Ali. Yeah, I won't go into detail because it's against friend code. But we are close. We popped a squat next to each other in the bushes. Twice. In plain site. The port-a-potties were too nasty.
I told you that we lost our dignity right?
I introduced Ali to all of Bod Squad. Told her about everyone. She knows how Celena was watching Mr. Mittens, how Renea and I met, how Irma did at competing. How Gina began running 18 min miles and now runs like a million miles much faster. How Bonnie fit me with my mouthpiece. How Dr. Joe fixed my back. How Mo finished her first marathon. How my sister in law is pregnant and her name is Alli too, Etc etc etc.
We talked and the miles went by. We met up with another lady who very generously gave us a salt tab, which totally helped with my dizziness at that point. We ate chips off of a random table set out in front of some drunk people. SMART! We talked to a guy that had been stung by a jellyfish and had a bad reaction. I saw the lady that I met on the plane from Dallas, she called me out by name! I don't remember hers for the life of me. But she was finishing her first IM!
It was so nice to have someone with me. Kristofor showed up and we ate pizza and rolls like it was the best food on earth. I have never been more thankful for bread. And before we knew it, we were a mile out from the end of lap 2, and we RAN into the turn around knowing that the next time we would be the finishers!
That last lap was a bit blurry. I hurt really bad in some spots of my legs. And my dizzy head was quite awful. Ali and I did what we said and we ran for a while, then would walk. 1 mile run, .5 mile walk. Repeat. Drink water, drink pepsi, start over. When we crossed the last timing mat, it was like we had made it.
I had proclaimed by the end of lap 1 that I was selling both of my bikes, buying bigger diamond earrings, and I once even said I was gonna have a baby. I said that once. I said the bike selling a lot. I also said I was never running again, and that this was crazy, that I would maybe do another half ironman because I loved that distance, but not this. Never.
When we saw mile 24, it was so so exciting. We tried to run, I was still dizzy. But by mile 25, it all melted away. No amount of dizziness could stop me. I knew I had it. Ali and I were going to finish! I told her we couldn't sprint because it's bad for your heart, so we loped in about a cool 9 min mile. We got very excited when we passed Punta Langosta and we could hear the "YOU ARE AN IRONMAN"s in the background.
A man Ali knew leaped out into the street to hug her! It was exciting to see her see her friends and family. I knew Kristofor was waiting for me at the finish, and then hundreds were waiting for me at home! I told her to have her moment. To go ahead. But we both kind of sped up and came in to the finisher shoot together. It was so blurry, so electric and it went by way too fast.
I could watch this over and over. I did my "teen physique" and I grabbed my medal and hugged my husband. Ali and I hugged, and I knew that even if I never saw her again...we had become friends forever on that 22-23 miles. No one will ever share that memory with me like she does. And I wouldn't trade sharing it with her for the world. I'm so blessed and thankful for her!
So it's over now, I have my medal. I hobbled over to greet Kristofor and grab my bike. I walked across the street and was given congratulations by our Ohio triathlete friends. And I told them I was done with it as well.
Chapter 14: The Aftermath
I never wanted to shower so bad in my life. I was so gross. A full day of swimming, biking, running, port-a-potties, road peeing, sunscreen, puking. I was nasty.
I was not sunburned. Amazing! And I was not hungry. I was however running a fever (about 100.4)...which I expected. I loaded up with the oils all over, and hopped in bed. I did read a few messages, I drank about half a pepsi, and then I crashed.
Monday I had trouble moving. I had the "Monica Benavides" foot issue (whatever that is!), and the back of my left leg hurt. But I was ok. I ate like the entire buffet and had like 3 pina coladas ASAP. I got burned by the pool (SMART!), and I relaxed and went to bed early.
Tuesday I took Kristofor to where the "back half" crazy bike was...though the water was NOT crazy. Nor was the wind. I snorkeled in the now FLAT water that was clear and pretty unlike at the beginning of our stay.
And Wednesday we headed home...see the way we got to Cozumel...we had to do the plane train ferry thing ALL OVER AGAIN.
And I had decided that I would definitely Ironman again. I was already planning.
I did this one very conservatively, I feel. My main goal was always to get across that line in under 17 hours. I wanted to finish. I didn't want to do anything super stupid to take that away. So yes, did I take longer in transitions and on the bike that I wanted to. Yes. Did I wish I could have run the marathon. Yes. Do I hope that next time I don't do an IM with a head full of snot and chest congestion. Yes.
But I did it. I can't take that away nor can anyone else. I did it. And I wouldn't change a single thing about how I did it either.
Chapter 15: Moments
I've thought a lot about moments in life as I did this whole experience. And I think we take too many moments for granted.
You see, when I did my first half marathon, I cried because I could not believe I made my body do that. I can't ever relive that moment. I lived in it, and I'm happy I did. I remember the first time I kissed my husband, I lived in that moment, and I'm happy I did. I remember the day I first laid eyes on my precious baby Lilah Bean, my first true canine love, I lived in that moment, and I'm happy I did.
But there's so many moments that I've raced through. There's moments every single day. We only get one chance to do things for a first time. You only ever do things the first time, ONE TIME. And if they are moments that matter, shouldn't we be taking a bit to enjoy that.
I don't remember the time I won my first award for singing. I was too busy trying to advance to the next stage. I don't remember the first time I stayed alone at college. I was too busy trying to be a hot shot grown up. I missed those moments. They aren't ingrained with me.
As I've gotten older (oh 31 I'm so wise...), I'm trying to be better about seeing the moments, the first moments and really living in them. I won't ever forget that moment in the swim when I was silent and hearing the sounds and the smells. I won't ever forget crossing that timing mat the first time, or meeting Ali, or seeing that finish line. I lived in those moments. I tried to soak it up.
Soak it up when you do things. Big or small, if they are important first moments, take that time for YOU. I tell my girls that do a first half marathon, you only get that feeling once. Your first BIG race. As I begin to train my girls for first halfs and fulls this week. I am going to stress that they savor the moments. The achievements. LIVE IN THEM. These moments. Those little pieces of time, they are your life. Don't ever miss that.
MY THANK YOUS!!! (I know I will miss some...I'm going to do my best)
Dr. Joe Siragusa and Airrosti, you kept me upright, healthy and nipped every tiny pain in the butt. Your care cannot be replaced in this journey for me.
Dr. Bonnie Villarreal, you took an interest in getting to the bottom of a lot of my health issues, you made me believe that there is an answer to some of the things I deal with, and your unwavering support to me never ever ceased to amaze me. I love you.
Dr. Claudia Vazquez and Dr. Nina Torkelson for taking care of me when I was at my lowest point, for getting me hydrated, and keeping me calm and letting me break down, but for helping put me back on track so quickly. Dr. V...I don't have enough letters.
Jessica Ochoa, for all the visits, all the "looking in my ears" for always seeing me ASAP and taking the best care of me. For checking on me at the studio every time. For wanting to touch my lucky shoes before I left :)
Dr. Dulgeru, thank you for not thinking I was crazy...and letting me do this to begin with :)
The Bicycle World guys. DAVE! RICK! TRACY! Thanks for always fixing my bike, helping me with my ridiculous questions, and for being overall the best possible bike team I could have asked for. You guys rock!
Monica Caban for inspiring me. For swimming with me and telling me to hang my arm like a chicken wing and slice through the water like a spear, and be long and lazy. I never forgot those words, and I wish I had an ounce of your will and determination. I tried to channel you all day on Sunday. And I told so many people about how strong you are. You are my favorite Ironman!
Jun Ellorimo, for always knowing that I could do it, for calling me Dynamite and telling me I was a runner like Mirinda Carfrae which was quite possibly the best compliment I've ever gotten!
Desiree Spa and Massage Staff....You guys all went above and beyond (Des you know I love you) to keep my calm, loose, pedicured, facialed, the works. I love your business for being my little hideaway from training, I adore your business.
Heather Keeler, my yogi, my keeper of secrets and things that batter my soul, for always telling me to breathe, for keeping me going on that bike course with your words of wisdom in my head and on paper. You are irreplaceable in my life.
My family, for my parents who worried about me, but taught me that I could do anything I ever wanted to do. To my brother who is my biggest fan. My sister and brother in law that cheered for me all through the summer with all my races. For my sister in law who ALWAYS listens to me, always cheers me up, is growing my niece and stayed up all night cheering for me, for Billy and Stef that cheered for me all day and were super worried when the live feed was not working! And for helping me with all those long swims this summer! My grandparents that love me and always cheer me on. To my HUGE extended family that worried about me, loved me and hugged me all the way through training.
Cozumel Palace, all the staff, all the people that will never read this. You guys were so awesome.
Renea and George. For taking a chance on me 2.5 years ago. For knowing before I did that I could be a trainer. For placing me on this path to where I'm at. This would not have happened without you.
The Bod Squad Trainers and Instructors. You guys are my sisters, my cheerleaders, my heroes, and I love that we are all so unique, individual, beautiful, and above all...we LOVE EACH OTHER and want each other to succeed. For your hugs, your texts, your words, your picking me up when I was down. Your willingness to beat people up if you had to. love you.
My clients and runners. You guys inspire me. I do this FOR YOU, so that YOU know that YOU can do anything YOU want to do. Thank you for walking with me on this journey, for your gifts, your patience, your love, your understanding.
All of Bod Squad...I'm in awe by the women and men I'm surrounded by. I felt all of you on the course, and I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of support I got. I told the world about you guys!
Lauren Dow, for answering my late night questions and keeping me calm with some oily goodness those last few days :)
Marit Alba for keeping me glowingly tan throughout my training. And for being an amazing friend and cheerleader. You are a little godsend, loveyou!
Ali Dragoo, for being my ironmate forever, for being exactly what I needed on Dec 1st. For pretty much being the best birthday present I got because you kept telling me happy birthday and telling others it was my birthday, and I wouldn't have crossed without you!
Texas Roadhouse, Platillos, Rio Grande Grill, El Pato, Blanquitas (sorry for this list Renea....) for keeping me full of the yummy food that I always craved throughout alllllllllll those hours of training.
And last but not least (and Like I said...I probably forgot someone....)
My Husband. I watched him. He didn't think I was crazy when I signed up. He picked me up when I was tired, told me to get on my damn bike when I was feeling lazy, stood up for me when it needed to be done, never told me that it wasn't possible, flew across the continent lugging my bike and calmed me down the whole way through. He brought me food on the course and was my little beacon at the end of every lap because I knew if I kept moving I would get closer to where he was. He taught me that I could become an ironman. Now we are the ironcouple. And cheers to doing this again together...and one day having ironbabies and being able to buy the cute onesie that actually says "Iron Baby" :)
The END. :)
