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.

Goals.

I will catch up on the last two weeks soon...

But first, I wanted to write down my goals for Ironman Texas. I have five concrete goals, and I have prioritized them from most to least important.


#1: Don't die.

#2: Finish.

#3: Don't vomit or shit on myself.

#4: Perform at the level of ability for which I trained.

#5: WIN!


If I accomplish 1-3, this endeavor will be a 100% success. I'm gunning for the top 4, really, but those first three are paramount. And if 2,000 other people have a really, really bad day, I will snag #5.

How freaking hard could it be?

Today Is The Day!

I wanted to write a long post about all the happenings of the past week. It was week 2 of the 3-week Peak Phase and it went well. I finished it feeling strong and ready to take on THE Peak Week (which is happening RIGHT NOW!!!!).

I wanted to write about my awesome friends who participated in the TryCharleston Relay, who got up at 5am and stood in the pouring rain when it was 53 degrees, in the dark, just to cheer on the swimmers on their teams – even though we swimmers could neither hear nor see them whilst swimming.

I thought I’d mention that I enjoyed my relay swim immensely, so much so that I swam extra slowly so I could enjoy it longer. Yeah, that’s why I’m slow.

I wanted to write about my relay teammates and competitors who pushed themselves hard during their bikes and runs even though they knew they weren’t going to win anything.

I wanted to write about my friend who, when he discovered an hour before setting up for the half-iron distance race that he had brought cycling shoes without cleats and would have to pedal 56 miles on Speedplay lollipop pedals in his running shoes, said “It’s alright. No biggie. I could’ve been born without legs. This is nothing. It’s all about the journey.” Then crushed a 5:09 overall with a monster bike split. (Note to self: Be like him.)

I wanted to write about how hard it is to stick to your training plan and stay in your 16-17mph Zone 2 heartrate zone for a ride when everyone else is taking off and it’s a beautiful day and you want to chase them. Or how I screwed up my nutrition (not enough calories, carbs, electrolytes or fluid) on the bike ride because my stomach was upset for the first time on a ride in a long time.

 

I had considered mentioning the various body parts that ache or click or are numb or don’t feel quite right, but these things will hopefully heal during taper – if I can just survive until then – but I decided not to focus on the negative. Besides, everybody hurts, and nobody wants to hear about it!

I really, really wanted to write about how lucky I am to have married such a kind, loving, understanding man, who, when I mentioned I might want to race Augusta Half Ironman again but was afraid he wouldn’t want me to spend all that time training, said “I understand. It’s what you do. We’ll make it work.” (Not sure I'm going to race it, just glad to know I can.)

I wanted to write that I am ready. I am so ready to race Ironman Texas and I am totally going to win. Or maybe not win, but absolutely finish and enjoy it. I can do it. I know I can.

I wanted to… But I won’t.

Instead, I’m going to write about my doctor appointment this morning. (Aren’t you glad you’re reading this blog?) Five weeks ago, she told me I had asthma and prescribed an inhaler and a preventive medicine. I couldn’t tolerate the preventive meds so per her instructions I’ve just been using the inhaler. However, I haven’t used it regularly – just when I felt I needed it – and only half a dose at a time.

Today, she read me the riot act. She told me of a local surgical tech, a woman, who was about my age and in great shape, who didn’t have her asthma controlled and she died alone at home when she had an attack.

Then she had my other doctor, whom I love and trust, call me and tell me how she has permanent lung damage already because she didn’t use her meds regularly when she was in med school and thought she knew everything, and let her asthma go untreated (or poorly treated) for a while.

I told my doc I was afraid to take the whole dose because I might have an attack and need another dose – and I didn’t want to OD. So I would take one puff before exercise (half a dose) and carry the inhaler with me and use it if needed (second half of dose). Perfectly logical, right? Yes, I thought so too. Thank you. You are very smart.

She didn’t see it that way. She thinks I should take the full dose, regularly, as prescribed, so I can breathe, so I can avoid causing permanent damage to my lungs, so I can not die. Then – get this – she prescribed more meds!

Here I am, three weeks and four days before Ironman Texas, and I’m starting a new medication. Steroids. And these steroids won’t even make me recover faster or get bigger muscles. They will, however, help me breathe – and she mentioned that breathing might come in handy for swimming, biking, running, and also just living.

In order to get even with her, I cried. I cried and cried right there in her office. I cried while we talked, I cried while I had an EKG (results were normal - hooray!), I cried in between breaths into the lung function machine, I cried while I took the first dose of steroid, I cried while they drew blood for labs (but I still watched, because seeing your own blood pouring out of your body - when controlled and on purpose - is really fascinating).

Today is the day I accept that I am not a stunningly healthy 23 year old. This cough and labored breathing are not “post-viral” or “just allergies” and they are not going to magically go away. I finally believe and accept that I am 39 and one-twelfth years old and yes, I do indeed have adult-onset asthma. And yes, it can be a big deal. And yes, I need to take it seriously.

But, hey, I could’ve been born without legs. This is no biggie. All part of the journey.

  

PS – I hope I haven’t offended anyone who was actually born without legs. If I have, I give you permission to say, “Well, at least I didn't get asthma as an adult.”

Bib Numbers Posted!



SHIT JUST GOT REAL.



200 Mile Relay, Cold Swim, & Boston Marathon

It's hard to write this post. Today, at the 117th running of the Boston Marathon, multiple bombs exploded near the finish line, maiming dozens, injuring over a hundred, and killing at least three people. I don't even know what to say. It's hard to process it.

Tonight I ran 45 minutes and thought about the marathoners, their families and friends, the emergency personnel, the volunteers, and the race officials. I wish there were something I could do to help. The only thing I could think of was to run. It just seemed right.

Unfortunately, the run was painful. My calves, shins and ankles are still tight from the running I did Friday & Saturday in the Palmetto 200 Relay. I stopped to stretch at least 5 times. I got a little looser by the end, but not much. I see Dr. Awesome tomorrow, and I'm hoping he can work these kinks out.

The relay was a blast. I ran legs 1, 13 and 28. Leg #1 was about 5.6 miles and started at 1:30pm in full sun. It. Was. Hot. I carried a water bottle and needed it refilled halfway through. Although I was hot, I didn't overheat. I think I paced myself pretty well, saving some gas for the next two legs. Average pace: 8:50.

Leg #13 was only 4.2 miles. I ran it at 11pm through the forest. It was dark and I was alone. I was grateful to have our van pass by every once in a while. Running in the pitch dark felt like an out-of-body experience. It was pretty creepy. Average pace: 8:30.

Leg #28 was my favorite distance: 12k (7.4 miles). I ran at about 8am on 2 hours of sleep. Surprisingly, I felt fantastic. Since it was my last leg, I pushed pretty hard. I finally had my first two kills of the relay (a "kill" is when you pass a runner from another team; considering the events of today, I'm a bit embarrassed to use that word). I sprinted to the end and handed off the "baton" (a blue slap-bracelet) to JC and promptly had an asthma attack. It was the exact same feeling I had immediately after finishing the Augusta Half Ironman - like someone had stuffed wet sponges into my chest. I could breathe out just fine, but breathing in didn't seem to work. The good news is, I remained calm, and I had my inhaler with me, so I took a puff and walked around to let my heartrate come down gradually. I felt better very quickly. 

I'm kind of glad that happened. It was a good experiment to see how I would react and how well the inhaler would work. It gives me some reassurance that I can handle future attacks.

Other good news:

• My average pace for the final leg was 8:10, which A) is the fastest I've run since the Ray Tanner 12k last fall (7:45 pace), and B) was 20 seconds faster than the previous leg, on fatigued legs and very little sleep. My body feels strong.
• Our team (Columbia SC Marathon) came in third in the mixed division.
• I got to share the experience with my wonderful husband JC.
• I didn't have any "goose bumps" during my hot runs, which used to be a big problem for me in the heat.
• I didn't get the post-exercise headache that I used to get after hot or tough workouts. I think I've finally figured out the problem: I just wasn't taking in enough electrolytes, especially salt. I sweat very little, and am not a salty sweater at all; plus, I have to be careful with salt intake because it exacerbates a condition I have called Meniere's Syndrome. Too much salt triggers hearing disturbances and crippling vertigo. But I have increased my intake during exercise lately, and it seems to be doing the trick. 

Columbia SC Marathon team after finishing in just over 25 hours. These are really great people.

Sunday, I joined some friends for my first open-water swim of the season. Lake Murray's water temp was still around 60 degrees, but I gave it a go. It was.... interesting. First, it took me a long time to get my wetsuit on; somehow, the extra pounds I'm carrying have made me bigger. Who knew?!? 

I took my time getting into the water. It was quite cold, but it wasn't the most miserable experience ever. (Peeing in your wetsuit helps warm it up.) But putting my face in was a different story. I spent a few minutes putting in first my chin, then my right ear, then my left ear, then my nose... Eventually, my whole face made it in. It took my breath away!

I swam a few strokes, but the cold water made me feel disoriented and dizzy. I swam a total of 150
yards before getting out. I felt dizzy and icky (and a little drunk) for a few minutes, but it eventually passed. So, basically, I spent an hour to swim a total of 3 minutes. Kudos to the folks who actually got their swims done.

So, here we are in the second of three peak weeks. This week is a slight cut-back from last week - long run is only 14 miles, and long ride is only 4 hours - then it'll be THE peak week. I'm ready.

Later That Day...

You know how one day in soap opera world lasts 8 weeks in the real world? You could skip a month's worth of episodes, then when you tune in again, it's still later that same day? That's how I feel about the past two weeks, which is how long it's been since my last post. The freak-out phase was pretty recent, yet it feels like a lifetime ago. I am back to a normal level of sanity (about 90% sane, which is normal for me) and have started the three peak weeks of training.

Last week was a recovery week. I took an extra day of rest, as I felt pretty worn out and run down. By the weekend, I was full of energy and ready to get going again. (I even did the dishes. That is MAJOR.) Sunday, a group of us took a nice 50 mile ride through the countryside of Lexington, with a few glimpses of million-dollar homes on the lake. I call that a soul-cleansing ride.

I've spent a lot of time researching and calculating fuel, electrolytes and fluids for long rides. Sunday's 50 miler showed good improvement in fuel and electrolytes but I still fell short on the amount of fluid I took in. (I know this because I did a 3-hour ride and 30-minute run and didn't have to pee until I got home.) This trial and error system takes time, but I'm getting closer to the magic mixture.

This week, we have FINALLY had some warm weather. I've had two runs in the 80s so far, and yesterday I took the day off from work to get my long ride done in 80+ degrees. I rode 92+ miles (by far a distance PR!) and ran 3 miles. It was sunny all day with a steady breeze; that was good practice for Texas. I only had one rough patch on the ride - around miles 60-65. I just slowed down a little but and made sure I was on track with fueling. After a few minutes, I was back to normal.

A beautiful day for a ride.

By the time I got to the run (3pm), it was 85 degrees. It was pretty tough. I will definitely need to make sure I take in enough during the run in Texas. I kept thinking, "How the hell am I going to run a marathon in this weather after the bike ride?" (I don't yet know how I'm going to do it, but I'm sure I'll figure it out.) When I got tired of thinking about that, I started counting my steps. (Hey, whatever I have to do to take my mind off the discomfort...) I got to 1,406 steps before I lost my concentration.
 
The good news is, my new bike shorts felt GREAT. My saddle was comfy for 80 miles. The last 12 miles.... Well, I got out of the saddle a lot. I must remember to carry a single-serving ride glide with me.

The other good news is, I peed three times during that workout. (Oh, come on. If you know me, you know I'm going to talk about pee.) This tells me I hydrated enough. Yippee! Once I cooled down in the air conditioning after the run, I felt good. I still had energy, my legs were strong, my blood pressure was great, and my pee looked like lemonade. Perfect! I just need more workouts in the heat to acclimate so it won't affect me as much.

Today was technically a rest day, but Sophie asked me to go to walk/run with her before school, so I got a mile of running in. I don't think anyone under the age of 30 ever does a proper warm-up, and she's no exception. She took off so fast, it took me almost a quarter mile to catch up to her.

Today was also "Eat Like a Horse" day. I pretty much ate constantly from 6:15am until about 3pm, when my appetite was finally satisfied (at least for 2-3 hours). Two breakfasts, two lunches, two snacks and a protein smoothie was all it took. Don't worry - I was hungry again for dinner.

Tomorrow is the start of the Palmetto 200 Relay which is a 200 mile race from Columbia to Charleston. Jeff and I are on the Columbia SC Marathon team, which consists of 11 fast people and me. I will be the slowest person on the team by a long shot. They asked me to be on the team last fall, back when I had some speed in my legs. Now I'm slow slow slow. They said back then that we weren't aiming to be competitive, we would just do it for fun. Then we added two sub-3 hour marathoners to our team and suddenly our average pace is 7:06. Crap! I can't run anything near that right now! Anyway, I'm running three legs over 24 hours, totalling 17+ miles, so that will count as my long run for this week.

I am excited about the race, and a little nervous, as this is our first time doing a relay and I don't quite know what to expect. I just hope I pack the necessary items and don't screw anything up. (Note to team: DO NOT LET ME NAVIGATE. It will turn into the Palmetto 482-mile Relay from Columbia to Florence.) Whatever happens, there is fun to be had!

March Madness

Last week was a great week of training. My swims were decent and my long run (14 miles) was phenomenal. I finally incorporated walk breaks (45 seconds at the start of every mile), which actually made my overall goal pace faster, while still in Zone 2. When I was done, I felt like I still had another 3 miles in me.

I had 70-75 miles planned for Saturday's long ride, but the cold, rainy weather prompted me to ride the trainer instead. I rode for just over 4 hours, taking a 5 minute break every hour to get off the bike, stretch, pee, etc. During the second half of my ride, we watched "Bicycle Dreams," which I thought would inspire me. Instead it TOTALLY FREAKED ME OUT. These people were riding day and night without stopping, and sometimes they were delusional, and getting IVs and all sorts of things. That was NOT good for my psyche.

Also, since I hadn't needed to pee during last weekend's long workout, I thought I should drink more this time. So I did. A total of 5 bike bottles in 4 hours, 3 of which were plain water; the other two were Heed and Perpetuem. I also had Hammer gels with added Endurloytes powder, and a Cliff bar. I think I screwed that up - too much plain water, not enough sodium. I peed after 2 hours (great!) then again an hour later and again an hour later - too much!

Also, my lungs felt like they were filling up with moisture. I used the inhaler an hour into the ride (just half a dose), then again as soon as I was done (the other half of the dose).

After the ride, I ran 20 minutes around the neighborhood. My legs felt surprisingly good - the best they've felt on a brick lately. But my chest felt pretty full, and I started to freak out a bit. I'm pretty sure you need lungs for endurance sports.

I can't really explain what happened next. I just got more and more nervous, and then that lovely feeling of impending doom showed up: my first panic attack in years. Damn.

There was a time about 5 years ago or more when I had anxiety regularly. It was a miserable feeling, always being afraid. When you're going through something like that, you begin to fear that fear more than the things you're afraid of. (Okay, maybe that didn't make sense, but if you've ever experienced it, you understand.) I was scared of everything: physical ailments (some real, some not), dangers like 18-wheelers crossing the center line and running me over, all kinds of things that normally wouldn't bother me. It took a long time and a lot of work but the anxiety finally went away. I have not missed it.

Well, now it's back. I'm worried about Every. Single. Thing. I'm told everyone training for an Ironman goes through times when they don't think they can do it. I've had those moments off and on but have managed them pretty well... until now. The past few days have been extremely difficult. I think the anxiety that's a side effect from the inhaler is feeding into it too. Even though I know these things are in my head, they feel real to my body. I've really, really been wigging out. I even had to stop during my opening 1000 in the pool yesterday to "talk myself down." (I decided I was too embarrassed to get out and have a panic attack in front of everybody, so I kept going.)

I've been avoiding writing this post because I don't want people to know how crazy I feel. But a friend suggested that folks might like to know that I'm going through this, so that if/when they have their own doubts and fears, they'll know it's normal and everybody else (even Tenacious J) goes through it. So, here you go.

If I get the nerve up, maybe I'll talk more about it. I'm sure this, too, will pass. In the meantime, I'm still training and trying to just focus on the moment: this day, this workout, this mile. When the next day/workout/mile comes, then I'll think about that one.

Also, I just want to say that I'm sick and tired of prepping my fuel for long rides. I look forward to normal workouts where I just grab a bottle and a gel and head out the door.

As long as I'm bitching: POLLEN SUCKS, and I'm tired of coughing.

I've made an appointment for a long massage - that will help me relax mentally and physically. Other appointments I've been thinking of making are with a nutritionist (for help with race day fueling), Dr Awesome (haven't seen him in a while; legs feel great but I'm sure I could use a tune-up), and maybe a shrink. I feel like I need one! And there is no shame in seeing one! I wonder, if I spilled my guts to big-head SmackDonald, would he use it against me on the bike leg? Hmmm.... He still wouldn't beat me.

Yeah, there's still a little Tenacious J left in there somewhere. Maybe she's hiding out until all the crazy leaves. It may be a while.