Not a Race Report

I have A LOT of catching up to do. There is so much to write/say about Ironman Texas, it will probably take me a month's worth of blog posts to get it all out. But there are a few things I need to get off my chest right away:

#1: I AM AN IRONMAN.
Actually, I feel like kind of a poser. Sure, I finished, but I have such mixed emotions about it. I went SO FREAKING SLOWLY to make sure I didn't overheat. I spun easy on the bike the WHOLE TIME and I walked about two thirds of the marathon. This is not what I had practiced, planned for, envisioned, or wanted. I feel so unfulfilled.

Yet, I'm extremely grateful that I generally felt well the entire race. So many people were puking, bonking, overheating, passing out - you name it. It was one of my main goals to do the race smartly, and I nailed it. I freaking nailed it. But I'm left wondering - could I have pushed harder on the bike and still finished strongly? Could I have run more and still felt well? I won't ever have answers to these questions.

#2: MY HUSBAND IS AWESOME.
After spending the last 5-6 months training and ignoring a lot of things at home (sorry about forgetting to pay the water bill in February...), it was MARVELOUS to spend 8 days with Jeff. The days leading up to race day were an emotional roller coaster, and he was my rock. He never complained, always said "yes" to my requests ("Will you just walk the mile and a half to the swim practice with me early in the morning, stand around holding my shit whilst I swim, then walk back with me?"), and kept me calm when I needed it most.

I am unbelievably glad we were able to experience IMTX week together.

I also want to mention he had a certain gleam in his eye. He mentioned several times how he kind of wished he were doing it, and maybe he'd do an Ironman one day. He always said he was kidding, but I saw something in there. (Yes, he is the same guy who, upon finishing the Charleston Sprint Tri, said, "Y'all can have this shit.")

I'm really looking forward to supporting him in his next endeavors. I have so much to give back. I love you, schmoops. <3

#3: I COULD NOT HAVE DONE THIS WITHOUT MY MOM.
This topic is really worthy of a full post, and I'll get to that one day. I just want to say that having my mom on my team was essential to my success, both in training and on race day. During low points on the run, when I was having one of those periods of feeling shitty, I talked to her in my head: "Mom, I'm doing everything we talked about. I'm hydrating properly (read: enough but not too much), I'm electrolyting the f*ck out of myself, I'm taking in fuel appropriately, my heartrate is low, I'm lucid, I'm not nauseated, I'm doing the best I can." And in my head, she would reply: "Jen, you can do it. You trained for this. You're strong and healthy. You can do it."

I know she was a nervous wreck about me doing an Ironman. When I first told her last summer that I had signed up to do Ironman Texas, her response (with huge eyes) was, "WHAT?!?! WHY???" As physical issues cropped up this spring (screw you, asthma), she was an integral part of my plan for treatment. She helped me research the meds I had to begin taking, and recommended I make adjustments with my electrolyte intake, because of the medication's effect on potassium. She came over to my house after the early March workout/electrolyte imbalance episode that instigated my two-week-long Ironman Freak-Out; she examined me, reassured me, and, yes, implored me to stop this craziness called Ironman training. Yet she still helped me as I continued, despite her own fears.

During long rides I did alone, I would text her periodically to let her know where I was and that I was okay. On one ride early in my training, she even drove out into the middle of nowhere to look for me and make sure I was okay. On the last long ride I did, just a few weeks ago, in the cold rain with a rubbing rear brake and my really bad attitude, she texted me encouragement: "You can do it. You're so close to your goal. Don't give up now," even though I know she was thinking, "Jen, you've already done so much. Do you really need to do this crazy race?"

Yeah, I did need to do it. Thanks, Mom, for all your help, your brains, your love, your strength. I love you. <3

#4: EVERYONE ON MY SUPPORT TEAM IS AMAZING.
Throughout training and race day, I always felt like I had a team of people sending me encouragement. Some were already Ironmen, some were accomplished athletes in other disciplines, some were friends, some were relatives, some were professionals who worked on me - my muscles, my joints, my lungs - some were fellow athletes training for IMTX whom I had never met but reached out to me on Facebook to give encouragement... There were so many people on my team.

During the swim, I thought about every one of you. I thanked you over and over with each stroke. For the entire race, I felt like we were out there together. In T2, when I decided I didn't really want to be an Ironman, and frankly, I didn't even want to hear that word ever again, it was the thought of everyone on my team that got me out of the changing tent and onto the course. With everything you have given me, I couldn't let you down.

Thank you for being there for me, with me, in my head and my heart. You guys are AWESOME.

#5: I MET THREE AND A HALF GOALS.
I had posted my 5 goals for this race, and noted that achieving the top three would constitute a 100%successful race. Here is the outcome:

Don't die. CHECK!

Finish. CHECK!

Don't shit or vomit on myself. CHECK! (Nor did I shit or vomit on anyone else! Bonus!)

Perform at the level of ability for which I trained.
This is where it gets muddy. I know, I understand, I accept that there are challenges in every Ironman race. But when you're training, you're always envisioning what you think you could do. What would my perfect race have looked like, time-wise?

I think I could have done this:
Swim: 1:40
Bike: 6:45
Run: 4:50
Transitions: 25 minutes
Total: 13:40

Instead, I did this:
Swim: 1:48 (Happy with this)
Bike: 7:34 (I stopped to pee every hour and fifteen minutes, plus stopped at most aid stations to get ice; I think my actual moving time was around 7 hours)
Run: 6:27 (As a runner, this is the part I'm struggling with the most. I could have run more. I chose to walk most of the second loop and talk to Dan from Canada, who was puking and couldn't keep any calories in. I enjoyed that lap. I'm struggling with the fact that I enjoyed it instead of pushing myself.)
Transitions: 47 minutes (Yes, you read that right. I spent 47 minutes sitting, dressing, resting, being confused, talking to others... It didn't seem like that long, but damn, this is AWFUL.)
Total: 16:37

Win. Well, not this time.

Now, I know the numbers don't tell the whole story. The story includes things like temps in the mid-90s, full sun, winds on the bike (which I'm used to and had planned for), polluted air (both from the haze of Houston and the smoke blowing in from Mexico) which jacked up my lungs a good bit, and a PMS headache for the entire day. But that's all part of doing an Ironman. There is no "perfect race" - only smart and strong performances. Mine was smart - but strong, I'm not so sure.

You know what they call the person who graduates from med school at the bottom of his class?
Doctor.

You know what they call the person who finishes an Ironman in 16:37?
Ironman.

I. AM. AN. IRONMAN.