3 Seconds of Fame

I know I posted this same sentiment after Vineman, but I am really humbled by all the messages and emails I've been receiving about what I accomplished ~10 days ago.  The mind is a very strange organism.  It tells you that you can't do something.  And then when you do it, it tells you that it wasn't a big deal.  Because you did it.  Because somewhere along the way, the goal became achievable.  I really wish I could get my perspective back about what happened last week.  Last year, I was so emotional watching these athletes persevere at IMC and IMAZ.  And yet here I am, having been out there on that course for all 17 of the 17 hours, thinking, "Yeah that run wasn't very fun, but it wasn't the hardest thing I've done in my life."  (I'm going to guess the 102 mile ride around Clear Lake takes the cake on that one).  


My decision to participate in Ironman was an intrinsic one -- to prove to myself that I could make sacrifices; I could surpass my personal limitations; I could be courageous; I could fight.  I won't be getting a tattoo or be putting a decal on my car (although I admit I did buy three articles of clothing that say Finisher on them).  


The official video was published yesterday and this monologue pretty much sums up my experience:


"You have these goals that seem crazy at a point in time.  You think, 'How am I ever going to do this?  How am I ever going to overcome this?'  And, you just gotta put one foot in front of the other and just keep that going over and over.  And before you know it, you're at the finish line."


PS:  I made it in the video for about 3 seconds around 5:20.

The Aftermath

Wow....it's over!  12 months of training came to one very exciting and stressful ending.  

All I wanted to do after finishing was go home.  Forget the massage.  Forget the food.  After walking home, I couldn't really eat much.  I settled for a lot of chocolate milk and a banana.  

The shower was probably the most painful shower I've ever had.  The chafing from my wetsuit and my heart rate monitor burned like no other.  Not to mention the saddle sores.  

I put on my compression tights, ice, and tried to stretch, but even that was tough.  I thought I'd be exhausted, which I was, but I was also still running on adrenaline and I hurt.  I finally fell asleep around 2:30, but was up at 5am.  It hurt too much to sleep.  Those quiet moments by myself in the morning is when I finally cried about what happened only 5 hours earlier.  

We walked down to the merchandise tent before 7am to get in line for finisher's gear, and then went to grab breakfast.  I was ravenous.  But after half an egg sandwich, I couldn't take anymore.  The potatoes made me want to ralph.  

We had planned a victory lunch at Oregano's and met my dad, some friends, and our teammates there.  I figured it was the perfect place to replenish all those depleted glycogen stores.  Unfortunately, after only a few bites of pasta, I was done.  And, this was the cycle for the next couple of days --> Feed me right now!  Five bites later --> OK, that's enough.  Thankfully, my appetite returned just in time for Turkey Day!

As for the pain, I didn't recover as quickly as I wanted to.  I have the most disgusting blister under my toenail (yes under) that hindered me from wearing socks and shoes.  My compression socks pull on the toe, even with it covered in a bandage so I couldn't really wear them anymore after Monday afternoon.  Every day I felt like my legs turned into tree trunks by 7pm.  The massage therapist said my muscles were like water balloons and were pulling on my attachments, which is why the knees hurt so much.  Other than the knees, the rest of the pain felt like the normal post-weekend muscle tenderness that I was used to.  Fortunately, by Wednesday, I no longer had to wince standing up.  

What I was most surprised about was how foggy I was mentally.  On Monday, every thing was just a big haze.  I would receive a text, read it, and then let the phone fall wayside.  Then 10 hours later, I would "see" the text as if it was the first time.  On Tuesday, I distinctly remember waking up thinking my head was a lot more clear than the day before.

I also had a hard time believing what happened on Sunday.  I kept telling Nick that all I could think about was the run.  I kept forgetting the fact that I did the run after the swim, and the bike.  But I guess that's because I already knew I could swim 2.4 miles and bike 112 miles.  I couldn't train for the run like most of the people out there could.

When the official results came out, I saw there were still people that came in after 17:00 and were accepted.  Apparently, the official clock did not start until 7:02 am!  So I really had 3 minutes left from the cutoff!!!!!  It also explains all my confusion with the clocks (my watch was 3 minutes behind, the official clock was two minutes behind, and the pros started 10 minutes before, which is why my watch was 15 minutes different from the race clock).  When I told Robin I still had 3 more minutes she said, "Hell no.  That time would haunt you!"  She's right. 

On Thursday, we ended up at an intersection on Curry Rd. and I said to Nick, "Hey, you know this street."  I joked about what a "hill" it was.  And, then I said to him, "You know, I could do it again."  To which he asked, "You could do it again?  Or you could train for it again?"  I told him I could do it again, but I don't want to train for it again.

IMAZ Race Report - Oh What a Night

The rest of the evening is a blur.  I slowly remember bits and pieces as the days go by since last Sunday, which is why I had to compile this race report in small bits.  


15 minute miles for 6 miles really should be a piece of cake. But somewhere around Mile 130 my body started to argue with my head an awful lot. Unfortunately, I was way undercaloried at this point.  I was running on steam.  Because of the tummy trouble, I couldn't take anything in. I tried to eat 5 grapes and would instantly regret it.  No fruit, no cookies, no pretzels, no gels.  I had to stick to liquids.  I kept going back to that sign that said, "pain heals" and I even asked myself, "What are you going to learn about yourself over the next 90 minutes?" Truly, I was curious.

While there is not supposed to be any outside assistance during an Ironman race, pretty much everyone out there on that course that time of night had someone with them. I never expected I would (because I never expected to be cutting it this ridiculously close).  But Robin was waiting for me by the lake and she asked what I wanted and I couldn't really answer. Of course I wanted her help. But I wasn't supposed to have any. So she just kept on running next to me (mind you in jeans and with a cinch sack on her back). She made me run to the first aid station, which was only maybe half a mile away, but felt like forever. I kept trying to stop and she just kept saying, "You can walk when we get to the aid station."  She told me random stories.  I remember something about Edward leaving the course to go to Cabela's (the hunting store) for a sale.  She told me how she ran down to the race earlier that day because she had to get a long run in that morning (11 miles) and what she did all day down at the race.  I thought to myself that now I was making her run 17 miles today.

From there we run all the way to the aid station before the "hill." I take in more chicken broth and Pepsi.  She starts forcing me to shake my arms and use the gravity of the downhill, and gives me instructions for how to walk through the next aid station to loosen up by legs.  

This entire run, I was doing math.  Math with my watch.  And math with the mile markers.  On the first lap, when I saw Mile 10, I would quickly convert (10-8.7 = 1.3).  I did this for every single mile marker.  Mile 4 on the 2nd loop (8.7+4 = 12.7).  As we headed downhill and got back to the water's edge, we ran passed Mile 14 marker and I yelled, "3.5 miles left" and Robin goes, "What are you? Some sort of mathematician?"  Yes, I guess so.  I was so completely tunnel visioned that last 90 minutes.  If only I could count cards and quickly as I was adding or subtracting 8.7 or 17.4 from 26.2 that night.  I'd be rich.

I kept asking myself why I couldn't go faster.  Did anything hurt?  Sure, but I wasn't in any kind of excruciating pain.  My heart rate was elevated, but I trained with a heart rate much much higher.  Why couldn't I go?  Then a woman, Sue, started to pass me.  She was 58.  I talked to her on the second loop.  She was hunched over and she had two people walking with her, pushing her to get to each light post.  And, then a girl named Tracy passed me, who was being encouraged by her husband.  I was in way better condition than these two were, but I couldn't move any faster (or so I thought).  I had brief thoughts about not caring if I finish after midnight.  I knew I would still go the 140.6.  But those were quickly squashed by drill sergeant Watson.  Eventually, we get back to the other side of the water and the volunteer says, "17 minutes for 1.3 miles."  I finally start to pick up my speed.  Robin runs ahead and yells, "Jessica, I want you to chick this girl!"  I had planned to run down the finish chute with an ASU flag that I had previously coordinated with Robin (which was in that cinch sack she had been running with the for past 6 miles).  I tell her I don't have time for the flag.  

I see a silhouette ahead that I know is Kristie.  And I also see Julie.  Now all three of them are running with me.  Somewhere we pass Sedonia and then my dad.  And when I get to the turn that takes me to the finish, there is my other dad, my mom, Natalie, and my brother, and probably others, but again, I don't remember.  I just remember yelling something about having to run through a parking lot.  The energy, the yelling, the crowd is absolutely insane.  We get to Ash Ave and the flag is magically in my hand.  I want to carry it above my head the entire chute, but when I try, I realize I can't keep my arms up.  I also know it's backwards, but I don't have time to switch it.  

  

I can't see anything.  The lights are so bright.  And, I can't hear a thing.  The crowd is unlike anything I have ever heard.  I never saw Linsey Corbin.  And, I never heard Mike Reilly tell me I was an Ironman.  I crossed that finish line at 16:59:05.  I wanted to enjoy that finish chute.  Instead it is all a blur.  However, the benefit of finishing in the last two minutes of an Ironman is that there are many videos out on YouTube capturing it all.  When I watch the video I see Linsey and I hear Mike Reilly telling me I'm an Ironman.  But, it doesn't look like me, even though I know it is.  It's a sloppy, messy, tired run.  And, an indication that somewhere maybe around mile 137, my mind took over my body.

Random YouTube video of the last two minutes of the finish line

I cross the line and I see why the finish line has volunteers called "catchers." Because that is what they do.  My catcher holds on to me for quite some time to make sure I don't need medical attention.  I'm wobbly and don't have my balance, but I'm ok.  I still can't believe what just happened.  As I predicted, I did not cry (I had already told Kristie that I assumed I would cry in the morning before the start, but not at the finish, which is exactly what happened).  News flash: I did hear a rumor that even Edward wiped his cheek some.  What does make me cry is watching the people behind me in the video.  I have no idea where they came from, except for that woman, Tracy, who is right behind me.  Sue never made it. :(  


Back at home, Jen captured the live video of all my teammates finishing, including Nate, the first to cross, who later proposed to Michelle after she crossed.  And, now it all makes sense why both Nate and Michelle's mom, Lorraine, made sure he could shower and change at my parent's place.  The best part is the commentary from Mike Reilly about all she really wants is a shower.  And, he made a joke to Nick when he finished.  

My amazing teammates!

 The best fans a girl could ask for....

I still haven't processed what happened.  It's been hard because I haven't been alone once since Sunday so haven't had much time to think about the magnitude of what I accomplished.  But I do know that I couldn't have crossed that line without Nick and Sedonia, who were my sherpas in their own unique ways for the past 12 months, and, of course, Robin, who pushed me to my limits in those last 6 miles.  


I was glad I bought the shirt that had my name on it and says, "Anything is possible."

IMAZ Race Report - The Shuffle

The Women's Change Tent was nearly empty when I ran in.  A great volunteer dumped my bag and helped me get dressed.  I gave her my reflective stickers and told her to put a happy face on my back.  Apparently, these stickers are not easy to break away from the peeling.  You're never supposed to try anything new on race day, right? Lesson learned.  At one point, I said, "Ok, I'll just go" but she said she was getting them so I started helping her peel.  I ran out of the tent and saw the running clock at 10:00.  I asked the girl how fast it was and she did not know.  I found some guy and asked if it was 10 minutes fast.  He told me it was 15 minutes fast.  I still have no idea since my watch is supposedly 3 minutes behind (unless the first volunteer just gave me an approximate time).  And, now the clock confusion is going to continue with me for the rest of the evening.


The first person I see is Klayton (and he even got the reflective happy face captured).

I give him a high five and then I see Kyle and Lisa.  There were SOOOO many people in that first half mile.  I wasn't feeling great, but I couldn't help but smile.  This big black woman was cheering me on yelling something about my big bootie.  She made me laugh and I took it as a compliment.


I get to the first aid station (Pirate theme), fill my bottle, grab a wet sponge and wipe all the salt crust off my face.  *sigh*  Then I see the rest of my family and friends out there.  At this point, I am just waiting to get my legs back.  My legs felt much worse after Vineman than they did here, but I just couldn't seem to propel myself forward the way I wanted to.  I was supposed to be doing 4/1s and my body was giving out after 2 minutes.  So I tried to keep 2/1s.  I kept telling my body that this was only 7 hours of my lifetime and it would all be over soon and to keep on going.  It was on this first stretch where I was just being passed by MASSES of people.  Most of them were starting their second loop.  It didn't bother me, but it made it very clear how slow I was actually going.  I knew I was 20 minutes behind where I wanted to be and calculated that I could still finish if I managed 2:20 for each loop (I wanted 2:30 and based on practice run/walks I knew I was capable of 2:10s).  I began to get overwhelmed by my lack of an extra 20 minutes and also by the awful feeling in my stomach.  I could see an aid station on the other side of the lake and I knew I needed to get to that bathroom.


I wish I could keep bathroom humor out of this post, but unfortunately, it played a large role in the evening so I have to include it.  I found it very fitting that as I rounded the corner, there was sign that said, "You're a winner today if you haven't pooped your pants yet." And, all I could think was, "let's hope it stays that way." Someone runs into the port-a-potty just before me and I'm so antsy -- worrying about time for the run and especially worrying about the rumbling in my tummy. It's finally my turn, I feel a little better, and start my run again. (Note: I found this tweet from Professional Jordan Rapp who dropped out during the bike after the race: "Deciding to drop out is significantly harder than deciding to race 90mi sitting in your own shit. Felt off before swim, but gave it a go."  See....it gets even the best of them!)


Unfortunately, at this point, I am worried. As easy as it was to let the swim go that morning, I couldn't let that 20 minutes on the bike go. And, I really needed to just care about what I needed to do now and not on what happened earlier.  I see my teammates and I tear up a little.  Emily assured me I had enough time. She reminded me that she had a foot injury in Canada and she walked her marathon, too, and that I would be ok. I needed that.  

On the backside of the lake, there was a tent with volunteers massaging some gel on people's aches and pains.  I had her get my knees.  Whether it was because my teammate, Jen, told me it invigorated her last year once she got to that tent, or whether it actually did, I started to feel better.  As I walked across Mill Ave bridge, the South Bay Ironteam coach, Ron, walked with me.  He stopped to talk to his team and I kept going.  Then I saw Robin.  She ran with me for a few minutes and she said I was running at a good pace and if I kept that pace, I would be fine.  She reminded me to just focus on what needed to get done and not on what happened.  Shortly after that, I let go of the bike ride.  On the other side of the water, Ron caught up with me (I truly love and appreciate that he is there just to enjoy the day and stops to chit chat).  He showed me where my name was on the ground because I really hadn't been paying attention.

It was a nice boost.  And on the one "hill" that is on this course, which really isn't much of one, I found my girls again.  I'd say this is the quintessential picture of the day.  You can tell I am worried and I am getting a talk from Sedonia (with those awesome cartoon hands she's wearing) about how I just need to focus.  

Shortly after that I saw Molly and she asked how I was doing.  I told her I was having tummy trouble.  She replied, "Been there, done that already today" and she offered me her Pepto, which I gladly accepted.  


Emily, Grace, Sedonia, Dana, and Helen had chalked the hill earlier that day and I found the Honey Badger as well as my name again.

My tummy was still upset and I had to make another bathroom stop at the "70s" themed aid station.  From there, it was the "DUI Task Force" aid station where the Hamburglar chased me down and a sexy cop spanked me with her night stick.  The next 4 miles were good and I ran most of them.  I went back through town and saw Julie and Chrissy as I was starting my second loop.  Julie told me my Facebook was blowing up because everyone was posting on my page.  I felt so humbled thinking that people would be watching me from afar, other than my family and teammates.  The big black woman from earlier actually stood up and came over to shake my hand and said something else about my big bootie.  It was so noisy I couldn't really hear everything, but she made me laugh again.  And then I saw my family congregated in front of my mom's house (which is on the run course).  I forgot to mention they made awesome banners hanging from the building for us.

Natasha, Nick's sister, ran with me for a few minutes and then I was off again.  I was still hesitant with taking in food so I stuck to chicken broth and Pepsi (Ugh...I'm a Coke girl).  There was a sign on this side that said, "Pain heals" and I had to remind myself this was true.  I stopped to get massaged one more time (this time in my lower back) and ran through the Inspiration Station where this came up on the board.

I stop at Special Needs and grab my bag of goodies -- some gels with caffeine in them and some very sugary candy (grape Jolly Joes).  About 2 miles later, a guy ran up behind me and told me I looked really strong.  I told him it was because it was my second lap.  He said it didn't matter and that I looked a lot better than most people out there.  This was a boost.  Another bathroom stop at the Disco station and then on to the DUI Task Force aid station again.  I told them I was going to be back in 2 hours and they said they would be there waiting.  


On the Rural bridge, I hear, "Hi Jessie" and it was Phil.  He was finishing up his third loop.  I ran with him for all of maybe four minutes and couldn't keep up after that.  There is a 10:15 cutoff time for the 3rd loop, except there is no timing mat.  I start to freak out about the mat because the only timing mat I know of is 2.5 miles away on the other side of the lake.  I see Robin and I ask her about the cutoff.  We start to ask volunteers and no one seems to know the answer.  Is it a random spot at Transition?  Or is it the timing mat on the other side of the lake?  Robin is trying to tell me to just focus and not worry about it.  She leaves to go find the answer.  I see Chrissy and I tell her that I am going to give everyone a heart attack.  I think it was around 9:45 so I have 2.25 hours left to complete 8.7 miles.  Very doable.  But my body was starting to shut down.  


I don't see my family this time around, but someone comes hobbling up to me and it's Nick.  I yell at him because he just finished 140.6 miles and he shouldn't be out here anymore.  Robin catches up and tells me that the cutoff was, in fact, behind me and not at the mat on the other side of the lake. *relief*  She asks what I need and I tell her people on the other side of the bridge.  I'm running with some guys and I yell out to anyone that will listen, "I've never run more than 13.1 miles!"  One guy turns around and says, "And you picked TODAY to do that for the first time?!?!"  


I get to the foot path under Mill and there is Chrissy and Kerry with sparklers!!!  I can't believe they busted out fireworks for me! It was awesome, even though I couldn't really show my appreciation at the time.  And when I went to cross the bridge, Natalie, Julie, Mike, Heidi, Bryce, and my mom all run with me across it (they had strict orders from Robin not to let me walk).  My mom tells me that Robin was going to hook up with me down on the other side.  I make the turn and see Sedonia.  It is 10:30.  I tell her that I have to bust out 15 minute miles for 6 miles if I want to finish on time.  She says, "I'm not going to lie.  It's going to hurt.  But you can do this."  


And, this is where everything got foggy...

IMAZ Race Report - It's a Sunshine Day

Originally, the weather looked like it was going to rain on Sunday.  However, it changed a few days before the race and I was pretty happy that I didn't have to worry about extra clothing for the bike ride.  This portion of the day was pretty uneventful, other than I became obsessed with time and it was the onset of some GI issues that would haunt me that evening.


My focus of the first ride was to ignore everyone passing me.  I also knew that based from my experience at Vineman, I couldn't stop nearly as much "just because" if I wanted to make my goal, which was 7:30 (2.5 hours per loop).  One thing I have been really good about this whole training season is forgetting about the swim I had prior to bike.  So while my swim was decent, that part of the day was over and essentially forgotten about.  I was present with the bike portion.


I just assumed the first loop would be easiest and that the wind would be prevalent in the afternoon.  However, I quickly learned that I could only go about 11mph.  While this course is flat, it is a 1% grade on the outbound with only a very small 3% grade at the turnaround.  The small incline with the headwind were working together against me and I just assumed I would make up the time on my way back with a tailwind.  It took me 90 minutes to get to the turnaround, where I got to see Chrissy, Kerry, Steve, and Debbie cheering for me!  

Since I didn't know the real time, I had to use my bike computer to gauge my time.  Luckily, I got the tailwind on the way back and was just short of my 2:30 goal by only 2 minutes.  I got to see Karri and Mark at one of the turns on McClintock, my dad and Cathy on Rio Salado near Sun Devil Stadium, and then the most obnoxious cheering from my Iron teammates at the turnaround.  Their crazy green and purple, jump splitting, dancing selves were incredible and gave me so much energy. 

The turnaround had a clock that said 4:11 and my watch said 3:57.  Was I really 14 minutes behind?  Or did that include the pro start of 6:50am rather than the AG start at 7am?  I became obsessive/compulsive with time.   All I did for 112 miles was read my bike computer, subtract the time I spent at the aid stations and try to interpret my inaccurate watch time against the bike computer. 


From there, I saw Dad, Cathy, Karri, and Mark again on the way out of town.

The focus of my second loop was to eat and take in the calories.  My coach said that how I felt at mile 50 would be my barometer for the day.  And, I really felt ok.  The wind switched so I got the wind in my favor on the way out.  I had been drinking a lot and my first pit stop was necessary.  I waited for an open potty (of course not until I walked in on someone else who did not lock his door). I still did not know the real time, so I asked the volunteer holding my bike to get me the real time by the time I got out of the port-a-potty.  He said it was 11:45 so I was hoping that meant my watch was only 3 minutes behind.  This was going to be critical for later.  


My knees were hurting a little at this point.  I took 3 Advils as a precaution.  I heard a girl on the way back say, "Are we turning yet?" and by the tone of her voice, I wondered if that meant the wind sucked.  About 11 miles later, I got to the turnaround and saw Kerry and Chrissy again.  Literally, the very second I turned around, I couldn't hear anything anymore because the wind was so loud.  I pushed  through the rest of that loop and saw my mom, who was volunteering at one of the aid stations.  She yelled she was worried about me, but when I looked at the time, I felt like I was still pretty close to my goal. I made it back to town and saw my brother, his friend, and Kyle and Lisa.  

I also saw those crazy Ironteammers again and baby Sophia with her Ironteam Flames.

Rinse and repeat, right?  I had to stop again for the potty and took another 3 Advil (maybe this wasn't a good idea, but I didn't know it at the time).  The one thing I noticed was that I had this whole arsenal of positivity to tap into for this ride -- songs to sing, funny things to think about, positive memories for the year, and my mantras.  I didn't have to use any of them.  I was happy.  When the wind came, I didn't say, "Oh, I hate the &^*%ing wind" like I usually do.  I just rode.  I'm thinking my obsession with the whole clock/watch issue kept me distracted from any negativity.  I also got to see all my teammates.  I saw Nick on most of the legs and caught Michelle and Phil on all of them.  I busted out my volcano-blowing-up hand signal that Phil and I made up a couple months ago.  And, I laughed when Nick did the volcano thing to me on the last loop.  I yelled "Go Team" to more people than I wanted to, but it was another way of keeping my focus on the good stuff.  


Unfortunately, around Mile 90, my tummy started to act up.  12 months of training and I can't say I ever had any GI issues.  Why today?  The next day, I realized it was probably the Advil tearing up my stomach on nothing but Gu Brew and bananas.  But I didn't know that at the time.  I saw Kerry and Chrissy again and slowed down to ask if they had any stomach stuff, which they didn't. I was still happy.  I just wanted to fix the problem.  Another bathroom stop, in hopes of alleviating the pain, but I had nothing to give.  This portion of the ride was significantly slower because of the discomfort.  I always heard of this happening to others and now I finally understood....


So I made my way back to town, saw my mom at the aid station, who got the message from Kerry and Chrissy and tried to give me some Tums.  I lowered my gears and increased my cadence for the last few miles and focused on alternating between heel down and toe down so that I could prepare my feet for the run.  With my foot injury, it was imperative that I start preparing my plantar fascia and heel spur for the next portion of the day, even if that meant going 1mph slower.  I rolled back into town and I was around 20 minutes behind where I wanted to be.  I didn't have time to do much math at that moment, but I remember not worrying about it right then.  I hopped off my bike and saw all my family and friends there, including my other dad, which was a total surprise.  

I did the whole double take, yelled, "Dad, what are you doing here?!?!" and handed my bike to a volunteer.  From there, I grabbed my run bag and ran into the Women's Change Tent.  

IMAZ Race Report - Good Morning

Rise and shine at 4am.  I hopped in the shower to wake up and clear the head.  We cooked breakfast in the dark by the red glow of a Coors Light neon sign that was still on from the night before (with three people passed out on air mattresses on the living room floor).


Left the house at 5am to head to transition. Unfortunately, nobody woke up, wished us luck or said goodbye to us. Maybe that was a good thing because I couldn't get emotional.  The college kids next door were still up from their night as we walked out of the house that morning.  Oh the irony.  

I dropped off my Special Needs bags, pumped my tires, put a few last minute things in both my bike and run bag and was done.  It was still too early to get dressed so I kind of just sat there staring at everything.  Fortunately, I did NOT have to use the bathroom and wait in that long ass line.  Both Sedonia and Dana were volunteers so they stopped by to say hi.  And, surprisingly, I was ok.  How could this be?  I'm about to start an Ironman and I didn't have a pit in a stomach!  What?!?!?!  My former TNT Head Coach, Mike, and Bike Coach, Lorraine, were volunteering as body markers.  I got bodymarked by Lorraine and gave her a huge hug and got a little emotional with her.  After all, she saw me struggle the most all season and I was finally here.


I put my wetsuit on and headed toward the water.  There were so many people trying to fit through that little area.  Any wet spot I saw on the dry ground, I knew meant someone just peed in their wetsuit.  Then a girl standing next to me did it and had to shake her booties out.  The guy behind me said, "Don't worry.  That's more sterile than Tempe Town Lake."  She was so embarrassed, but I told her she really just made us all laugh right before getting in the water.

I was still far from the gate when the cannon went off for the pros at 6:50am.  By the time I jumped in (yes, had to jump in), they yelled we had three minutes to get to the other side of the bridge.  

Are you kidding me?  So without over exerting myself, I rushed to the other side of bridge and found myself an open spot that was in the middle toward the embankment.  

I told myself to look around and take it all in.  So as I am still lollygagging and facing backwards at the bridge, the cannon went off (there was no countdown).  Oh crap!  I quickly turned around and started swimming.  I found this video on YouTube that gives an idea of what it was like.

Every time someone touched my feet I said, "they are pushing you forward."  I was pushed down, I was hit with watches, hit with timing chips, kicked in the side, etc.  But I knew that no one was doing it on purpose and I also knew that I was doing it to others.  So I managed to just ignore it.  I also realized that since I wasn't paying attention when the gun went off that I forgot to set my watch.  I really had no idea how long I had been in the water.  I assumed it was around five minutes, quickly started the watch and used the five minute padding to gauge my time.   The one thing about this swim was that every time I took a breath, there were people next to me.  It sure was not lonely.  

Near the turnaround I saw an Asian guy in a sleeveless wetsuit (not too many of those out there -- Asians, and sleeveless wetsuits, and Asians wearing sleeveless wetsuits).  I knew it wasn't Nick (he's way too fast), and thought it might be Phil.  Yes, it was!  2600 people in that water and I find Phil.  I hit him a bunch of times, until he realized I was doing it on purpose and finally looked up.  It was awesome getting that "Hi Jess" and smile in the water.


After the turnaround, it was a longer way home.  Mentally, I prepared myself to believe the turnaround was 1/3 of the way there.  The way back was definitely less crowded, but still people all around.  At that point, I noticed I had been singing Pearl Jam's "Just Breathe" pretty much the entire way.  Then it was time to turn left and I saw all the red TYR flags. It felt so great to see so many people around me.  I had a tough time getting out of those stairs again (you are disoriented after swimming for that long) and couldn't get my balance.  I probably had to wait about 15 seconds to get my wetsuit peeled because everyone was busy.  I saw the time said 1:39.  Woo hoo!  I wanted to be out in 1:40 and thought maybe it would be 1:45 after the practice swim. So I was really happy with the time. 


First I saw Mom, Natalie, and Julie.  I ran to give my mom a kiss.  I have dirt ALL over my face from that disgusting water and the goggles did a number on my eyes.

Next I saw Chrissy and her mom in the arches of the bridge.  

And, then I saw my dad and gave him a high five.  

I grabbed my bag and noticed all these people changing OUTSIDE.  Huh?  

So I ran into the Women's Change Tent.  MADHOUSE!!!!!  There were at least 85 women in there, clothing flying all around, no modesty (you really can't afford any), and it was swampy from all the moisture.  I snagged a girl's chair that just ran out.  Sedonia was volunteering in the tent so I yelled to her.  When she finished helping the girl she was with, she came over and helped me, which was so great to have a friendly face in there.

From there I walked to my bike and headed toward the exit.  First I saw my parents again, then I saw Shelley, my former co-worker, Chrissy and her mom, and then I saw Kerry with a bright pink sign for me!   It was so incredible to see all those faces coming out of T1.

And, now it was time to ride 112 miles.

***Thank you to Dad, Chrissy, Natalie, and Molly's fans for capturing such great pics.

Final Preps Before the Big Day

This weekend was such a whirlwind.  I'm going to have to break it up into multiple posts....


Thursday we picked up our packets.  It was a fairly short line and we walked through the expo a little bit.  I really just wanted to stay off my feet and that's what we did for most of the day.

Friday evening was low key.  There was an Athlete's Dinner and Meeting.  I didn't want to get caught up in the environment so I chose to go to an AKPsi Alumni Happy Hour instead on Friday night and then headed over to the tail end of the Athlete's Meeting.  Basically, I wanted to do whatever I could this past weekend to not feel nervous or intimidated and my plan worked.  I found Kerry and Edward at the happy hour and briefly caught up with them before I had to walk back to to the meeting.

At the meeting, I met up with Nick, Phil, Michelle, and Nate.  We listened to them go over a few precautions regarding the course and then it was time to head home.  

The four Dreamcatcher Fitness athletes -
all former Ironteamers and two couples.  ha ha

I had only been sleeping about 4-5 hours each night due to the craziness of work, packing, adrenaline, nervous energy, etc.  I knew that Friday night was the night I needed a solid amount.  I wanted 10 hours, but settled for 8 instead.


On Saturday, we had our practice swim.  It was only 20 minutes in the water and am very glad I did it.  

Lessons learned:  
1)  It was damn cold.  I swim in cold water so it wasn't anything I wasn't used to.  But, it was NOT what I was expecting from Arizona -- 61 degrees water temp.
2)  I couldn't see my hands.  The visibility was awful.  Basically, I felt the other swimmers before I saw them.  Hmm...I knew that would be problematic on Sunday morning.  I decided to not be upset if it took me an extra 5 minutes to get out of the water the next morning. 
3)  It was filthy.  I had a nice dirt beard when I exited. 
4)  It was tough to get up on those stairs from the water.  I learned I needed to get my knee up first, in order to get out.  Something they warned us about at the Athlete's Meeting, but I didn't really understand what they meant.  

5)  I was pretty damn impressed with myself at my lack of nerves.  I remember last year walking around that area and getting all choked up watching everyone exit the practice swim thinking, "These people are doing something amazing tomorrow."  But somehow I just put on my wetsuit, checked my bag, jumped in the water, was cognizant of the thoughts above and got out.  I never really thought about what I was doing the next day.  


From there, we did a short mechanical bike ride, got our gear together, and dropped off the bikes and bags.  

Later that afternoon, I had a bunch of my friends stop by.  I knew I wouldn't have time to see them during the race (or after) so this was my way to say hi to all my college friends, most of which were headed to the UofA v ASU game later that night anyway.  My dad thought I was crazy for hosting a "party" before Ironman.  It ended up being the best thing for me because I was distracted.  I knew my race plan already.  I reviewed it in my head one more time before bed.  Seeing everyone kept me distracted and happy, rather than building a snowball of nerves.  I was in bed by 10 and asleep by 11.