DNF at Liberty Half to start the year out. Ok, that's fine, I shook it off.
And then came Racine Ironman 70.3. My "A" Race. The big race of my 2016 season. I even planned a mini vacation with Marc around this race as sort of a celebratory hoorah after I was done. And also to sort of butter my husband up, as he has been nothing short of amazing this entire year. Seriously, if you ever meet a partner who is willing to deal with taper week mood swings and to sit outside for hours and hours after getting up at 4 am, KEEP THEM FOREVER.
If you haven't heard, Racine was a bit of let down due to weather issues. There was a huge severe storm cell that literally went right over us as the race was supposed to begin. That then meant a cancelled swim, and 3 hour delay. Which pretty much meant the end of the world to a group of 2000 neurotic triathletes. Myself included. All my meticulous planning, my minute-by-minute nutrition and hydration were just catapulted out the window with a delay and shortened course. Nonetheless, I was there to race so I did. Ultimately I went out a bit hard on the bike, more than I should have. And 30 mph winds reallllly didn't help my cause. So by the time I got to the run, I was cooked. My legs were jelly and I completely bonked with my nutrition plan. Oh yeah, fun fact: I lost all 3 of my water bottles on that bike course. I feel like I should have brought a fat bike or monster truck to absorb all the shock from the potholes on the roads.
So it was a tough course. An intense bike. A Hot run. You know, all the shitty things that you could hope for when doing your first long course. But I did it. Slowly, but I did it.
After that race, Marc and I did what anyone would do. We showered and went to a bar. I mean, come on, we were in Wisconsin after all. I had a glass of wine and immediately ordered a beer. Then I began looking up 70.3 races in Minnesota in the coming weeks. And believe me, after not drinking for a few weeks, all sorts of stupid ideas sound good after 2 drinks.
And then the heavens opened and music played and I stumbled upon Chisago Toughman 70.3 THE NEXT WEEKEND. Timing could not have been better! I will be running Twin Cities Marathon in October, so if I was going to do another half, now is the time. Plus, Mike gave me the go ahead. Which getting my brother to agree to any of my shenanigans is a victory in itself. I mean, if my coach thinks it's fine, then it MUST be a good idea.
So I finished my beer and signed up. And then started to mentally prepare for another long course race in only 6 days.
The week progressed and race day was upon me again. I woke up excited and really happy with my choice. It's amazing how going into a race with a "zero f's given" attitude will make you feel.
I racked my bike, did a once over and got ready to race. I had done the short course last year, so in my 4 hours of sleep stuper, I thought to myself, this won't be that bad. Then I remembered that I was doing 3 times the distance. But today was my day to finish. I didn't care how fast, all I cared was that I did. I didn't even tell anyone I was racing this course, because I was racing for myself and for my interal victory.
The swim was as expected. Without a wetsuit I knew I would be a bit slower, which I was. Out of the water in 43 minutes, a couple minutes off of my normal pace. Ohwell, I will never win a race in the swim. I was on to the next one.
With the bike being my weakest discipline, I was happy to see a course with minimal elevation and calm winds. Don't get me wrong, there were some climbs thrown in there and a super annoying headwind on the last 10 miles, but compared to my past 2 races, this was nothing. I stuck to my nutrition plan, yes, Uncrustables and water, and I kept my pace smooth and fluid. I don't think I have ever had a race where I have actually executed everything the way I envisioned. Since I am a stubborn Taurus, I didn't want to believe my coach when he said to stick to my plan, but dammit, he was right. And thank God I didn't flat because at mile 28 I realized I forgot to put my flat kit on my bike that morning. Like I said, I had my 4 hours of sleep brain that day. Us bartenders don't function well during daywalker hours.
On to the run. It was starting to get humid and pretty hot at that point. And there were going to be hills, I did know that much. My only goal for this run was to keep each foot moving one in front of the other. I had no time goal, no pacing plan, only to move forward.
It was an out and back, which usually terrifies me to my core. But today it felt good for some reason. I hit the 6.5 turnaround and had an unusually sunny disposition at this point. I felt great! I was making a decent pace! I hadn't gotten lost or had side stitches!! Well. Any athlete will tell you that if you are feeling too good, it's probably not going to end well. Because at mile 8, it hit me. I was getting sunburnt, my groin was tightening up to that of a rubber band, and oh shit. I have 5 miles left still. Your mind is your own worst enemy in races like this, and I was about to spend the next 45 minutes politely telling mine to go eff itself. I was going to finish, even if it meant army crawling my ass across that line. Which with a final .5 mile that has a switchback up a hill, would have been a challenge. And a little embarrassing. So I did what I always do at that point, and I just kept repeating my mantra in my head over and over. "One foot in front of the other. You can do this".
And just like that, I did it. I crossed the finish line and did it. I heard the voice of my most favorite announcer, Jerry, and I could barely hold back tears of joy. I had done what I have trained so long to do and I overcame a lot of crap to get to that line.
It may not have been my best times, and I couldn't care less. I persevered and came back from some really dark times and feelings over the last few months to become a Half Ironman finisher.
I told Mike I don't think I will be doing another race any time soon, and he laughed and agreed. I think I earned a bit of time off. I was so happy he was there to watch me finish, as I know he would understand more than anyone how much crossing that line meant to me. Plus, he also brought me a can of Coke and I think that was one of my favorite parts of the day as well.
So now, as I sit on my day off and relax at home with the cats, I am grateful to have finally reached the end of my multisport season. I have waited all year for this time to relax and have no real set plans or goals until the fall. But in true triathlete fashion, it only took me 24 hours to feel restless and anxious for what my next race was going to be. So I came to the only logical conclusion I could.
Time to sign up for Ironman Madison 2017.