Episodes
Saturday Sep 02, 2017
Lesley Maisey: You are an Ironman/Woman/Person
Saturday Sep 02, 2017
Saturday Sep 02, 2017
Primary lesson learned from Ironman Santa Rosa: pack every type of wetsuit you have. Take the fulll suit, the sleeveless, the neoprene swim shorts and the speed suit. Whether you can wear a wetsuit or not on race day depends on water temperature. At the race briefing, the legality of a wetsuit was in question but likely a non wetsuit swim due to the lake temperature at 76.1F. Another 0.1 degree F, so 76.2F meant wetsuits were not allowed. Now if you are a weaker swimmer and rely on your wetsuit’s buoyancy to get you safely through a 2.4 mile (3.8km) swim you could still wear it but you were removed from any award eligibility and cautioned on the risk of overheating. The sales of speed suits skyrocketed at the expo; I almost got sucked into the frenzy but Rob reeled me back in. I have one at home, it was my mistake not to pack it for a hot race. It’s now added to the pack list!
Race morning, the 0430 athlete shuttle out to the lake was relatively quiet and peaceful. There was a gentle buzz of conversation but no yahoos with their music blasting or jumping around trying to high five everyone (yes I’ve had that experience and it doesn’t allow for some centering and reflection before a long day). Into T1 with my headlamp as it’s still dark; we typically see sunrise part way into the swim. Tires pumped to 110psi, bottles and nutrition loaded on the bike and then down to the lake. Wetsuits were permitted as the temp was at that magical number of 76.1F. So nice to dive into warm water and have the added buoyancy but wetsuits cause extra stress on the shoulders having to move restricted with a thin neoprene layer. Pros and cons to most things aren’t there? The typical punches, kicks and swim-overs in the water were there but these don’t phase me anymore. The lake was quite choppy though and I kept losing sight of the course markers so swam a bit extra I’m sure. Not my fastest swim but I felt strong and still had good energy exiting, so an efficient swim! My transition times were long because of the 1/3 mile run up the boat launch, wetsuit stripper visit, around to the bag pick up and then finally around the back of the change tents and into the tent. New volunteer rules meant no help in the tent, not even with sunscreen application. I had a good community in the tent, as we had a line of athletes all putting sunscreen on each other’s backs. Then out and onto the bike.
I knew in the first few minutes this was going to be tough. My Garmin had been kicked and hit a ton in lap two of the swim so I had to reset it to catch any bike metrics. Most times I start the bike feeling awesome as this part is my strength, but not this time. I had ridden the 160km Valley GranFondo 6 days before and my legs were not fresh. Rob and I hadn’t driven the bike course but the profile hadn’t seemed too bad. The hills were nothing too major but felt far steeper with tired legs. The roads were in terrible shape though. Lots of orange tape marking off the worst hazards but I rode on high alert thankful for the carbon fibre frame and wheels taking some of the vibration. There were bottles and bike parts littering the course and so many people flatting out (not me though thankfully). At about 60 miles I could hear my front brake rubbing as it was finally a smooth section of road. Who knows how long that rolling resistance had been in play? Stopped for a quick adjustment and I was moving again. At mile 80 I stopped at an aid station and actually got off my bike. Normally I ride through and urinate as I go (sorry if TMI!) and rinse with a water bottle but I just needed a minute off that thing! I had 32 miles to go and wasn’t having much fun. I sat in the stinky “honey bucket” (irony at its finest) and recall hanging my head in my hands. My head ached and my body was sore but after a few minutes I got back in the saddle and resumed pedalling. The last 42 miles was a three loop section and had some of the worst roads. Every bump started to really hurt and there were groans and profanities uttered by all. I was so delighted to give my bike to the volunteer at the dismount line at 112 miles (180km). A longish run in cycling shoes took me into the next change tent.
Through T2 and onto the run. The run course was changed to a 3-looper a week before to allow more frequent access to aid stations and two stops at your special needs bag if you wanted. It felt so good to run…for about the first 4 miles. After that it was more mental than anything. I had been in my head for most of the bike course which is not good and had a hard time shaking it on the run. I saw Rob at mile 9 for a kiss and much needed words of encouragement. He was there at every loop, even ran with me for a bit and walked with me through the aid station on that part of the course. I was light headed off and on, struggling with nausea but actually not cramping at all. I could run when I talked myself into it! Grapes were the sustenance that kept me going along with cola. I could not stomach another gel, block, or bar. So grapes, a couple pieces of an orange and about 4 pretzels is what I consumed on the 26.2 mile run. My favourite sign on the run was “I bet you’d like your bike back now!” Oh how true they were!
I kept thinking that I must have missed the 22 mile marker. My Garmin had a dead battery and there were fewer than usual mile markers. I almost burst into tears when I finally did see it as in my mind it should have been there 2 miles ago! Mile 25 through to the finish was the longest 1.2 miles I have ever run. You think a marathon is long? That last mile felt like it took forever! They sure like to tour us around in Santa Rosa. In keeping with the long transition pathways of the day, the exit for the finish chute was at least 8 blocks. Just when you think you’re there, a lovely volunteer says “just two more turns” or “just two more blocks to go”. Seriously! That finish line seemed elusive. I could hear Mike Reilly’s booming voice (the announcer) but I couldn’t see that red and black magic carpet leading up to the finisher’s arch.
When I finally did, and it seemed like I had run far more than just 1.2 miles since that 25 mile sign, I had the same emotional flood that I had on my first ironman finish and every one since. Even though this was my tenth, it is never a guarantee that I will finish. Anything can happen on race day. When you do make it across that line it brings relief that I can really stop now, disappointment that I didn’t meet my goal time, joy in hearing my name called out as an ironman finisher, gratitude that Rob is there cheering me through that finish, and thankful that my body lets me do this crazy event and holds up to all the training and the challenges of race day. This one took 13 hours, 44 minutes and 46 seconds. I was sweaty, salty, dusty and sparkling due to the sunscreen (I told another athlete I was channeling my inner unicorn), but I was done! I think I’ll give it a few more days before planning 2018…
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