Ironman Florida Already!

[colby]

The recap! Long, as usual.

I signed up for Ironman Florida on a whim last November. I saw Ironman announce that registration was opening, and I thought, what a great time of year to race, and Florida sounds fun! And FLAT, so it's low risk for an Ironman, right? Maybe it'll be interesting to try two races, a new location. My husband had just got a new job that he was going to start in December, a new adventure for him that sounded right up his alley, so this was my "adventure" for the year.

Fast forward 6 months to Ironman Coeur d'Alene. Training not where I wanted it to be, minimum for racing, thanks to my company going through a pretty awesome but still grueling acquisition. We announced the acquisition 2 days before the race. It was nuts. I was tired. And yet, I raced, I finished, and I was excited for Florida.

1 week after Coeur d'Alene: my husband is no longer with his company. We start looking for new job opportunities for him, and end up considering Austin, where my parent company is located - it's unlikely he can find something where I'm located, which means one of us has to work remotely in order for us to be in the same place; Austin means "remote" is in an actual office. He finds a great job within only a few weeks. Between acquisition transition, job hunting, and eventually moving him and myself (partially) to Austin... Florida training's not where it should be. I seriously debated not racing, but I really wanted to claim victory over this year. In my brain, this race meant my life belonged to me, not to work, that I was putting a phase of my life where I put life on hold for work behind. It was like a great work-life balance struggle playing itself out.

Timing worked out so that I'd be in Austin for 10 days before going to Florida, which gained me two great things: no timezone adjustment, and a very similar climate. Perfect, because I have issues in heat as it is. I booked my flights and hotel fairly late, but I was in "one thing at a time" mode, and there were plenty of flights and rooms. I was hopeful for a "vacation" in Florida after the race, but my husband starting a new job meant he didn't have the vacation time saved up yet. Compromise - a long weekend, a couple of remote work days.

As Florida got closer, my goals shifted from racing an awesome Ironman, to racing an Ironman. To finishing solid, at least as fast as my Coeur d'Alene time, to staying safe. I was knocked off my bike by a car commuting in Austin about a month before the race, an illegal right turn on red over a bikeway/crosswalk. They weren't going fast, but I was stiff. I felt it in every long ride, every long run, and I only had so many left. Keep going. Stay focused. Balance recovery with racing. Stay positive. Stay positive.

We got to the airport in plenty of time for our flight (well over an hour), only to discover that TSA was cattle prodding slower than usual, and we walked up to the gate to see "FINAL BOARDING" but nobody was there. The person s-l-o-w-l-y returned just in time for "CLOSED." I knew the next flight in to Panama City Beach was at 3:40 and check-in closed at 4. I knew it was going to be close. They routed us through Detroit to Atlanta to Panama City Beach, and I sent out the call on Twitter to see if there were any athletes that could help me get to the check-in on time. I thought we'd have 4 hours, I thought we'd be able to get a cab, I thought... oh well. It'll work out. Stay positive. The most awesome stranger replied to my tweet while I was en-route, and he also confirmed that they stay open "a little extra" just in case. At this point it was a tour of airports - never been to Detroit! :P On my flight to Panama City Beach, there were a ton of athlete family members and friends on the flight. I sat next to a woman from Montana (close to home!) and we chatted about airlines, Ironmans, and I continued staying positive.

The Most Awesome Athlete was literally right outside when I got off the plane. What a guy - turns out he had a great race. He dropped me off near check-in right at 4pm, and they gave me a hard time but then let me in since I had just arrived. I MADE IT!! I was racing. Thanks also to my husband, who grabbed our bag and caught a cab. My bike was shipped in advance from the shop to Ironman Bike Services, but by the time I got through check-in it was too late for me to check on it. I took a tour through the store quickly, and found they switched their jersey vendor to champ-sys instead of k-swiss, so it's the same style as my fave TE "She Loves Hills" jersey, which felt a little out of place in Florida. I made a point to attend the athlete dinner that night and hear about the course (technically "mandatory"), including "we've heard there are jellyfish but I have yet to see them" and the usual "please don't draft" and "stay safe."

Friday came fast. Saturday races are weird. Am I really racing tomorrow? Required bag drop off says yes! I picked up my bike and am SO GLAD I rode it (I ALWAYS ride the day before the race before checking her in!), because the shifting was way off. I paid for full service, which means tuned, so I brought it back for an adjustment. Made sure my bags were packed, checked everything in, and went for a swim in the gulf after my husband double convinced me I should (I ALWAYS swim the day before, makes a big difference on race day). It was warm and salty, and I was so glad I did it. We went to wal-mart (within walking distance) for PBJ+bananas+misc, and had dinner at a Waffle House (SAFE food, low risk).

We were staying at the host hotel so I knew we'd be getting up whenever our neighbors got up (not the quietest of rooms), and sure enough we were. We had brought our sunlight alarm clock, which is super cool, but turned out to be unnecessary. One thing about staying that close to the race is that it makes the morning super simple - no parking, no timing, just walk out the door and you're there. I dropped off my nutrition (PB on the bike plus gels and nuun, gels for the run if needed) and headed toward the beach for the mass start.

The beach was WAY easier to get to than the Coeur d'Alene entrance - much less traffic. Countdown. I was really about to race another Ironman. BOOM! I made my way to the water's edge, slowly, disinterested in the washing machine process starting early. Turns out... even as I passed people, the stronger current separated people much more than Coeur d'Alene, and I barely got touched. So much lower stress, I was able to settle into a "just keep swimming" rhythm. I knew I hadn't had much swim time, so I tried to treat it just like a swim in the pool - not taking risks, just keep swimming. You turn and face the sun, and I often have trouble with judging this turn. I just kept swimming as long as I could see heads to the left and right, but I did have to course correct. Saltwater hurts up your nose. Saltwater hurts in your throat. Free 90 minute+ gargle! No germs! As you start the second lap, they give you water to rinse your mouth, which is great. I got back in the water for the second lap in pretty good confidence, but I didn't expect the Jellyfish Obstacle Course. Maybe the quantity of people scared them off on the first lap, but there were a TON on the second lap! There were times I had to adjust to avoid them, but mostly they just appeared constantly in the deeper water. The water was so calm, such a great temperature, I was really happy with the conditions, but I was happier to be DONE swimming. Hooray for a quick freshwater shower!

In T1, whew! Volunteers are super helpful, but I've generally just got this one down. I just need time to sort things out, get dressed, and help with arm warmers. I don't really care how long it takes, I just want to be right. This isn't the Ironman to count the seconds on.

On to the bike. This is where the day will be made or broken. I saw my husband right at the start - he asked if there was anything I needed, I gave him a kiss, all I needed. What a guy. I had a generally uneventful ride, though the bike is where I confirmed what I knew in my head: I had not trained my gut. It doesn't matter if I used the same nutrition I'd used before, I hadn't done enough long rides using the same formula. It made riding aero difficult, when I did in the back half of the ride, my tummy got uncomfortable. The first 70 miles felt like a constant headwind, save for maybe 5-10 in the middle. There's a section of brutally awful pavement, enough that I can see my bottle cage start to loosen. There's hardly ANY spectators other than the (AWESOME) volunteers at aid stations, it's very solitary. Yes, this is an "easy" Ironman terrain-wise, but it's certainly a unique kind of challenge. It felt like a long training day, or an organized ride, not as much a race. Maybe that made me less likely to push or risk anything, too, but it wasn't the day for that anyway. The good news here was that I didn't feel where I got knocked over on my bike last month AT ALL! Awesome recovery! The last 6-10 miles of this ride are TORTURE - it's along the beach, it's SO WINDY, and you're SO CLOSE yet SO FAR AWAY. I was so happy to get back to the transition area and I knew I'd be an Ironman again.

Into T2, I chatted with a couple of people about my FiveFingers and Ironman - someone actually asked me "what number is this for you?" rather than "is this your first" and I wondered later when I made that transition, how it was evident. I put on my Injinji cushioned socks for the first time in a race after liberally using the bodyglide on my feet. On went the toes, and I was off for 26.2. I stuffed my arm warmers in my pockets just in case it got cool enough, though I had my arm coolers on in case it was warm enough.

My run plan was to run between as many aid stations as possible. This is generally my run plan for Ironman. I didn't really care what my pace was, I just wanted to GET THERE. This flat run was actually pretty awesome! Not super scenic since most of it was in the dark, but there were more spectators, it was 2 loops, and did I mention it was flat? In the interest of continuing to let my gut process the food from the ride, I took in coke and pretzels at first, which helped a lot. As soon as the food was in, I was running again. I stopped a couple of times to use the port a potty, which meant I was still taking in the right amount of liquids. No cramps. No pain. No gut issues. Just keep running. After the turnaround for the second loop, I was passing people constantly. I kept expecting to get tired of running, for that feeling that your legs just can't take that impact anymore, but I never got it - at least not what I'm used to from Coeur d'Alene. I had a sudden appreciation for those other 4 Ironmans - so much more brutal from end to end: physical swim, brutal hills, quads that burn on the run. I ran between almost every aid station - there was definitely a half mile or so around mile 18-20 (which I consider THE DEAD ZONE OF IRONMAN - mile 16ish to mile 22ish) where I walked more than I needed, but I needed the brain break. I sang myself songs. I thought of my family. I listened to the faint sound of vuvuzelas from friends in all corners of the country. I ran a surprisingly consistent marathon - not blisteringly fast, but that's not what I asked for. Again I thought - boy, if I had the time to train.... this would be awesome!

You can see the finish line with still about a half mile to go. I tried to get to the finish by myself, so that people in front of/behind me could have their moments as well. I could hear footsteps approaching, so I picked up the pace a bit. I high fived every person in that finish chute with their hand out. And then I heard them call my name (though not Mike Reilly, from what I recall). I held up the FIVE fingers on my right hand in honor of my 5th Ironman. Victory was declared. A medal appeared around my neck, a water bottle in my hand, a tshirt and cap (white tshirt again? ugh), a space blanket. A finisher's picture. And, most importantly, pizza! No, no. Most importantly, a big hug from my most dedicated fan.

It's such a good feeling, to know you're alive, it's such a happy feeling, you're growing inside, and when you wake up, ready to say, I think I'll make a snappy new day, it's a good feeling, a very good feeling, the feeling you know that we're friends.

Pictures:
http://asiorders.com/view_user_event...=76834&BIB=212
Results:
http://tracking.ironmanlive.com/news...&sort=&dir=asc

I didn't sign up for Florida next year out of uncertainty that I wanted to come back and it sold out in 16 minutes! Not impulsive enough. I'm thinking either a) I'll go back to 1 race and a marathon, or b) I might try Cozumel, which is where Kacie's racing over Thanksgiving weekend. I like the November timeframe - and actually Thanksgiving would mean I could probably race the Austin 70.3, which is 4 weeks or so before.

Recovery is going well - my quads are not NEARLY as sore as they ever were before, but I still feel like my whole body is tired. I commuted to work by bike (12 miles RT) starting Thursday after the race, and ran 5k over the weekend at an easy pace. I'm running a half marathon over Thanksgiving, but it's out of love more than competitiveness (and not enough crazy to run the full marathon 3 weeks after an Ironman).

Thanks for reading, and as always, thanks for everyone's support.