Ironman Chattanooga Part II: Walk With Purpose

When I last left you, I had just ridden into transition in what is likely the best bike ride of my life (so far).  I had great plans for the run, but my legs were so wobbly that I had trouble making it to my gear bag.  I grabbed my bag and walked as quickly as I could into the changing tent so that I could sit down for a minute.  I only needed to change my socks and shoes and grab my run gear and while it felt like I was moving pretty quickly, it took me a total of nine minutes. I ran out of the tent and the volunteers slathered me with sunscreen and I was on my way.

As I ran past the spectators and out onto the run course I heard my name and saw Jesse and Goat.  Goat yelled to me that I'd done great on the bike and I told him that I couldn't feel my legs! He assured me that if I kept moving the feeling would come back.  I took his word for it and got to work on the run.  As I started, I realized that while it seemed like it was still morning to me, it was actually around 3 o'clock in the afternoon.  I had a plan to run until I could not run anymore and then walk through the aide stations (every mile to mile and a half) after that.  I was hoping to keep my pace somewhere in the neighborhood of ten minutes per mile (hopefully faster), and that lasted for about two miles.  It just felt more difficult that I expected and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.  My legs were so heavy and I felt a little bit gross. Turns out, it was about 87 degrees with high humidity which probably accounted for a bit of the struggle.

I soon settled into my pattern of walking through the aide stations, pouring water on my head, shoving ice in my top, and drinking.  I was disappointed to see my pace drop into the eleven minute per mile range and I knew that this would get me a run time somewhere in the low five hour range.  Certainly not what I was planning for, but you gotta take what the day gives you.  The first four(ish) miles were on a highway that just never seemed to end.  There were no spectators out there, it was not scenic, and there was no shade. There was not even a sign of a turn for about three miles, it was pretty defeating, but it turns out it was one of the more flat sections of the course.

After turning off of the highway we ran along the riverfront in a park.  It was much more scenic, but still felt a little bit isolated at times.  I was able to keep my pattern of running then walking the aide stations up for about eight miles.  My shoes were squishy from all of the water that I dumped on my head and ice that I crammed in my shirt.  It was through here that a couple of ladies passed and complimented me on my ride. That made me feel good, I gotta tell you.  Right around mile 8 we crossed the Tennessee River for the first time via the Veteran's Bridge.  I had no idea that I was about to climb a mountain in the next couple of miles.

I'll never forget Barton Avenue in Chattanooga, TN.  I'm about 95% certain that there are no streets like Barton Avenue in all of Dallas/Fort Worth.  I ran every hill I could find during training for this race and I have gotten stronger at running hills....but I was no match for Barton Avenue.  As I was walking up the hill, right around mile nine, Baha ran by and growled at me to "walk with purpose." I thought that I was walking with purpose, it felt like I was walking with purpose, but apparently it did not look that way on the outside.  I grumbled something back and tried to pick up the pace, but before long he was out of sight.

As punishing as it was, this part of the course was really beautiful.  Barton Avenue itself was filled with people hanging out in their yards to cheer.  It was quite festive and I think many of them just made a day of it.  But then at the top there was a very stately neighborhood with huge homes (some might say mansions) and a beautiful country club.  It looked like something from a movie, I tried to appreciate the views despite my struggles.

What goes up, must come down and pretty soon I was headed back down Barton Avenue.  I made a deal with myself to run the downhills and this was a big one.  It was along this downhill that I saw Erik heading up the hill, near his mile 9 mark.  I hadn't seen him since I started the race and I was hoping that he was having a good day.  He shared that he had a strong day on the bike, but his run was pretty tough.  Judging by the number of people walking, it seemed like a lot of people were struggling.

I focused on getting to the end of the first loop (13 miles) so that I could do it all a second time.  One of my favorite parts was running across the Walnut Street Pedestrian Bridge.  It was just a neat bridge and each time it signaled the end of something - the end of a loop and the end of a race.  Halfway done....you can do this, MK, just keep moving forward.

Back to the long stretch of highway where I found myself walking more than I planned.  I had an internal dialogue going on a this point, wondering if I biked too hard and blew up my legs - becoming one of "those people" that I never want to be during a triathlon.  But at the same time, I was feeling very proud of my bike and satisfied with the risk that I took.  Back and forth I went - feelings of guilt and even shame followed with feelings of satisfaction.  I made deals with myself to run through five traffic cones before walking.  For a while I ran a quarter mile, walked a quarter mile - I can't remember a quarter mile that lasted as long as some of those did.

As I crossed Veteran's Bridge the second time, I looked up and noticed the most beautiful sunset.  I was filled with a moment of peace and I knew that I just had to be patient and keep moving forward.  Looking back, that peace I felt might have been the temperature dropping a few degrees as the sun went down.  One more time up Barton Avenue and I really did try to walk with purpose, just not sure I actually accomplished that goal.  The sun was gone now and it was pretty dark in that beautiful country club area.  There were flood lights placed periodically and I just moved towards the light.  I kept my feet deliberate as possible because falling on my face would pretty much be a disaster at this point.

Once again, I made a deal with myself to walk the uphills and run the downhills...sounds easy, right? Running downhill is harder than it sounds and it became painful after a while.  One step at a time, I was determined to get this done. I made it to the Walnut Street Bridge and walked the incline to get onto the bridge, but then I did not walk again for the rest of the race.  I could hear the race announcer calling out the names of finishers off in the distance and I moved with every bit of will that I had in left in me in that direction.  I was especially happy when I rounded the bend and saw that it was literally downhill all the way to the finish line. Five hours and fifty minutes after I started running, I'd made it.

There is no place in the world like an Ironman finish line - the lights, the red carpet, the spectators, the announcer calling out "You. Are. An Ironman."  For the first time all day, I wanted time to slow down so that I could take in every bit of it.  No finish line is ever promised and you never know if or when you'll get a "next time." You assume that you will be healthy and strong and able to race for years to come, but there are no guarantees in life.  You have to make it count.

I was so grateful to be finished so that I could stop moving for a few minutes.  I crossed the line and was ready to take my medal when I looked up to see the person putting it around my neck was Goat. What an amazing and special surprise, a moment that I will never forget.  I can't remember what I said to him, but I remember giving him the biggest hug and wiping away tears as I moved the rest of the way through the finisher's chute. I can't begin to express what that meant to me.

I have so many thoughts about this race and in some ways I'm still processing it all, nearly two weeks after the race.  When I started training I had a goal to have a finish time that started with a 12.  I finished in 12:00:58, but that is without the swim.  I have to wonder how the race would have played out if we got to swim.  Would I have taken that risk on the bike? Would I have gotten that PR that I was dreaming of all summer? I have no doubt that the day would have had a completely different tone, but I wouldn't trade this experience for anything. I learned so much - what I am capable of and what I need to work on. I'm getting better at this and one of these days I'll put all the pieces together. I was reminded how incredibly hard Ironman is.  It doesn't get any easier, but it is always worth it.

None of this would be possible without these guys. I'm lucky to have the best tribe around.

Ironman Chattanooga Part I: The Devil Went Down To Georgia

I knew as soon as Ironman Maryland was over that I wanted to do a second one and within a few weeks I was signed up for Ironman Chattanooga.  I missed the training in the off season and was ready to get back to it when we started up at again at the end of May.  I am good at training and I'm a geek for the whole "process" thing and the weeks flew by fairly quickly until the last few - at that time I was ready to just race already...time to get the show on the road.

As Erik, Baha, and I headed to Chattanooga, we learned that the swim had been cancelled due to high and swift moving water on the Tennessee River (not to mention elevated levels of E coli).  I was bummed to hear the news because I started working on swimming on January 1 and I had made some good improvements.  I was also looking forward to the swim because I have heard that it is just downright fun with its downstream current.  I didn't fret about it long though because I knew that the day would be long and hard enough already.  The swim is such a small fraction of the experience.  Not to mention that this race would still be 142.2 miles - two miles longer than the standard Ironman due to 4 additional miles on the bike course.

No swimming in this very flooded and swift Tennessee River

Along with the bad news, we also got the very good news and that our friend Goat would be coming to spectate.  Goat is a very special fellow to all of us, a multi-time Ironman and one of the nicest guys that you will ever meet.  He was diagnosed with cancer in 2017 but that hasn't stopped him from chasing some goals of his own and from supporting his friends.  

We arrived in Chattanooga on Thursday afternoon and had plenty of time to settle in, explore a bit, and to give all of our bikes and gear a final test before race day.  I'd never been to Chattanooga before and I was surprised at what a cool place it was with so many small shops and restaurants all in walking distance.  And did I mention the race was sponsored by Little Debbie? All of the snacks that I cared to eat were available in the Ironman Village.  Those oatmeal cream pies and nutty bars were a taste of my childhood!  

We drove the bike course on Saturday afternoon and that is when I got really excited.  The course was beautiful with rolling hills, lots of farms, and a few small towns with many small churches.  The route crossed into Georgia early on and remained there for the majority of the ride. I didn't know how my ride would go, but I knew that I would enjoy the scenery.

Race morning had a much more laid back feel since there was no swim.  They were starting us on the bike in a time trail start with 2 cyclists starting every 5 seconds.  We started in order of bib number and since my bib was the lowest of Erik and Jason I got to start first.  They hung out with me at my rack until it was time for me to roll out.  Just like at Ironman Maryland, I got all teary eyed at the beginning of the race.  It isn't fear or sadness, but realization that I am about to embark on something huge and that everything I worked for the last 4 months was about to come to fruition.  It is one of those moments that is larger than life.

I have never started a race in time trial fashion before and I gotta tell you, it was pretty fun! I was worried that the roads heading out would be congested, but it wasn't a problem at all.  Wouldn't you know it, the last person I saw as I rolled out of the start area was Goat.  I gave him my biggest smile and right then I knew that I was going to race my heart out on my bike.  Goat is a helluva cyclist and I wanted to make him proud on this day.

While I am bummed that we didn't get to swim, I am thankful that I got to experience this type of start.  For the first 20 miles or more, it was all women who are in my age group.  I've never been in a more positive and supportive race environment before with everyone working together to help each other pass and sharing good thoughts for the day.  A real women's bike race! I may never experience anything like this again, it was just the coolest thing.

I was watching my power numbers and my speed and I could tell early on that this was going to be a strong ride for me.  I wanted to keep everything steady and strong for as long as I possibly could.  As expected, the scenery was absolutely gorgeous.  I made sure to thank every officer and volunteer that I could along the way, I'm not sure I've ever felt more grateful on a ride before.  About 40 miles in, I decided that I was going to do my best to stay on my bike the entire 116 miles.  I did not do that in Maryland and I took a break at the halfway mark and I also stood for a bit at a couple of aide stations in the second loop.  I have been thinking about and working on taking more risks and I was prepared to do that one the bike today. I had aches and pains here and there, but they came and went throughout the ride.  

Towards the end of the first loop we passed through the town of Chickamauga, Georgia.  There were crowds lining the streets to cheer and it made me feel like a pro - what a great scene!  Speaking of pros, a few of them passed me on the first loop and it was a little bit terrifying as it felt like they were only inches away from me and my bike.  I've never seen anything like it before, those guys are simply amazing.

I was happy to start the second loop, but forgot some of the early climbs - must have blocked those out when I was all pumped and excited at the start.  My power and my speed were holding strong and consistent and I just kept pushing.  I think that I did a good job with eating and drinking too and I felt so pro taking water bottle hand-ups from the volunteers at the aide stations.  It was a really great feeling to make that right turn at the end of the second loop and head back towards Chattanooga. I noticed the time as I got closer to town and hoped I could pull off a sub-6 hour finish. I knew that I was on the cusp of a huge bike PR, even with the four extra miles, and I was so happy.  That was the most fun I have ever had on my bike! I completed 116 miles and rolled into transition in 6:01:45 - an average of 19.2 mph.

As I unclipped from my pedals and the valet whisked my bike away, my knees nearly buckled and I felt like a baby deer standing on wobbly legs.  I had every intention of running through transition to grab my gear bag, but I found that I could barely shuffle along.  Did I make a big mistake and bike too hard? How in the world was I going to run a marathon on these shaky legs?  This was my first sign that I was in for the hardest run of my life.

3M Half: Always a lesson in the journey

The 3M Half Marathon in Austin is one of my favorites.  It falls within a few days of my birthday and makes for a great little weekend getaway.  The course is fun and fast, a point-to-point that starts in northwest Austin and ends near the Texas Capital.  The crowds are usually fun and supportive and the 3M swag bag is a thing of beauty - I never have to buy Post It notes, bandages, super glue, and Scotch tape anymore!

The couple of weeks leading up to the race were brutally cold in North Texas - we are talking low temperatures of 13 degrees and blustery wind chills on top of that.  Fortunately, I was able to avoid running on the coldest days, but the bulk of my training was done in freezing and below temperatures.  So naturally it was 66 degrees and super humid on race day - Texas has a great sense of humor that way!

The legendary 3M Half swag bag

I've had such great success at this race in recent years. My course record 1:50 two years ago and I ran 1:52 last year, so my goal was something in the low 1:50s.  My plan was to hang with the 1:55 pace group until around mile 10 and then take off on my own.  I love feeding off of the energy of a good pace group and letting them do the mental work while I just focus on running.  These pacers are great too, they've paced this group during this race for several years so they know the course really well. This strategy worked out great two years ago and I was hoping that a similar plan would serve me well during this race.

Mr K and I arrived in plenty of time and enjoyed some people watching before the race began, the announcer said that there were 7,000 runners, a record field for this race.  As before any race, I took a moment to be thankful for a strong body and mind that allowed me to do things like run 13 miles on a random Sunday because it sounded like fun. Make it count. Take nothing for granted.

We lined up behind the 1:55 group and when the starting gun sounded, I made it my job to stay right with them.  The start was very smooth and we started right on the pace as this pace group runs even splits throughout the race.  The roads were so damp, it looked like it had recently rained, but that was just the humidity.  Since this was my 4th year to run this race the course felt super familiar and I just focused on cruising with the pace group.

I started to feel like I was working harder somewhere around mile 7 and I could feel that my elbows were dripping sweat. I also noticed that my lips had that salty feeling and that told me I was probably not drinking enough.  This course has a net downhill, but there is a hill between mile 9 and 10.  It isn't steep, but it goes on for a while and it feels difficult considering we have been consistently running a slight downhill the entire time.  According to the pacers, we were ahead of the pace but they were allowing some cushion for that hill that would be coming up soon.  I was starting to realize that I was not going to be able to drop the pace group like I planned and my goal shifted to simply keeping up with them.

My heart rate was continuing to climb and climb and the pace group was inching away from me and when I saw the aide station just before mile 10 I knew that I needed to walk through it and regroup.  I was sad to see the pace group disappearing into the distance, but at that moment I just couldn't hang on.  My watch chimed mile 10 and I felt a bit discouraged when I saw that it said 9:19.  I had been clicking off the miles in the 8:30s-8:40s until now.  I felt like any chance for a decent time was gone, but I told myself to keep moving forward.  I was officially on board the Struggle Bus. I felt a little better when I saw mile 11 come in at 9:03, but I was still pretty sure that I was inching closer to a 2:00 finish.

I always finish what I start and I wasn't quite ready to throw in the towel just yet. I saw others walking and it looked so appealing, but I told myself to simply keep running.  I usually try to run the last mile as fast as I can (Last One, Fast One!) and this was still my plan, despite my frustration and fatigue.  The last mile of the race has some more downhill as it passes through the University of Texas campus so it makes for a natural LOFO.  I saw the 12 mile marker just about the same time that I saw the 1:55 pace group, about a quarter of a mile ahead of me.  Redemption was within my reach! I made it my job to catch that pace group, there could not have been a more perfect target for me in that moment.

They reworked the finish line this year and instead of rounding a corner and running up a slight hill, we rounded a corner and it was straight in front of us. It seemed like it was a mile away, but in reality it was probably less than half a mile.  The finisher chute was longer than most and I remember the announcer mentioning this at one point, I caught the 1:55 group at the beginning of this chute. Redemption would be mine! One final push and I crossed the line in 1:54:50.  I was surprised to see Mr K waiting there for me.  He tells me that he passed by me earlier in the race, but I never did see him - I was too focused on keeping the pace.

This wasn't the race I had hoped for, but more times than not, running is about taking what the day gives you and making the best of it. I figure that you can find a lesson in every race if you take the time to look for it. I'm proud of how I kept on fighting even I thought that my race was over at mile 10 and I'm proud of how I worked hard to catch the 1:55 group when I spotted them at mile 12. I have no doubts that I learned more from this experience than I would have learned if I had run a faster and mentally easier race.  This is a lesson that I can carry with me and draw upon in other situations when the going gets tough.  And that is what it is all about, isn't it? There is always a lesson in the journey.

(In case you were wondering, that LOFO checked in at 8:19.)