Jackie and I headed down about 5:45 am to get body marked and to check my bike in transition one last time. We then went back up to the condo to find Team Whetstone gearing up for the day. Being at the host hotel allowed me to be able to walk right on to the beach just before the race start. With the national anthem playing to begin the day's events and participants and family gathered, my emotions were rising. I hugged my family good bye and couldn't help but feel their love and support.
The water temperature was 68 degrees but compared to the air it felt pretty good. We were told that the cross tow would push us left into the buoys so I decided to start wide to the right. As I reached the beach to start, it appeared everyone had the same idea so I pulled back to straight in line with the buoys. Even with that smaller crowd, I was being slapped, pulled and kicked just like in the "Cliff Bar triathlon start commercial" on YouTube (You gotta watch this). I felt the need to climb over a few neoprene clad bodies myself to get out of the crowd. Once I got left of the sight buoys, I realized how much I needed to calm down and get into my normal long swim rhythm. We used to tell our children that when they were scared or afraid that if they would sing a primary song they would be comforted. I took my own advice and began to sing "I Am a Child of God" in my head. I continued to sing primary songs off and on for the remainder of the swim. The beat of these songs worked pretty well with my stroke cadence.
As I exited the water and ran up the beach I laid on the sand so that a "peeler" could strip my wetsuit off. I then ran under the make-shift shower where I got my first woo-hoo's from Team Whetstone.
With the low 47 degree temperature, it required a thorough drying and a complete change to include long sleeve shirt, leg and toe warmers. I mounted my bike to face the forecasted 12-13 mph winds blowing from the NE. We rode through the high-rise building section of the strip for the first 6 miles that created a wind tunnel followed by 20 miles North and then 32 miles East. Nothing but head wind! About the time my legs felt they were zapped, along comes 3 car loads of Team Whetstone hooping and hollering out the windows. This brought on a smile that had been suppressed for a couple of hours.
At about mile 44 I made a left turn and noticed a bunch of blue shirts so busy organizing that they didn't yell to me so I called out to them. They responded with their normal whoops and hollers. Had I really caught the best cheer team out there off guard? Having spent one whole "intense" day as an official Team Whetstone member last year supporting Mike, I know there is always a lookout. So I road on down the road thinking "I wonder who is going to get fussed at for that one?"
At the bike half way I shed my long sleeve shirt, leg and toe warmers, refueled and took a potty break. This was the first one on the bike so I realized I needed to hydrate more. Craig and I exchanged a few words of support around mile 70, where we crossed paths. I came across one of the bottle exchange/trash dumps and threw out a half melted chocolate covered protein bar before I realized I was out of groceries. From that point on I grabbed every banana that I could. Before I even saw the sea of blue on the side of the rode, I heard the whoops and "go big daddy's" of the team. They were spread out along the road at about mile 90.
Knowing what a strong biker Rick is, my goal had been that I would finish the bike no more than 30 minutes behind him. Little did I know that the team was cheering for him just a couple miles behind me! It really surprised me when I heard his voice coming up beside me at about 93 miles. We sat up and rode together chatting for several miles but I knew he was ready to move ahead. I told him that I hoped to see him again before the day was over and he pulled ahead for a distance. We ended up riding pretty close together for the remainder of the bike. Despite the 13 mph wind, I ended up with my fastest 100 mile bike ride ever, averaging 18 mph. I entered the changing area just after Rick and we literally changed clothes cheek to cheek! (I know, TMI) From there I headed out on the run.
I got to see some of the team and get a hug from Kenny as he gave me my GPS watch. I tried to settle into a 10:30 pace but boy, did that ever feel slow. I walked through every single water stop and most every time I saw Team Whetstone. If I didn't walk with them I at least got some high fives and they got a few sweaty kisses. If my count is correct, Team Whetstone made their way around to see me 8 times on the run alone. If ever I needed to hear them cheering it was during the run. During an out and back portion, Rick and I came face to face. We exchanged encouragement and kept on going. The sections where runners were going in opposite directions on the same street were neat because you could see your friends coming at you. I came across Betty at one of these. But with a double loop course you didn't know whether they were on the first or second loop. It was pretty crowded in most sections though and I never saw Cindy. My head must have been too low when she came by.
(Skyping with Joe, Chelsea and Maggie from Virginia!)At the 13 mile mark I was assisted with my special needs bag. The volunteer actually held my bag while I rummaged through it. I took my Gu and Electrolytes but opted out of the long sleeve shirt and gloves so as to stay a little cool. Believe it or not, I made it to this point before nightfall but the sun was fading fast. By the time I got back out to the state park it was pitch black dark. When you're so exhausted and it is completely dark it's almost impossible not to get discouraged. That's when the walk breaks became more regular. At the 19 mile marker all I could think about was the fact that I had only one loop out at LHS left. My mind said "you can do this, you do it every week" but my legs wouldn't listen.
According to my GPS, I was still under my goal pace for a 5 hour marathon. Somehow I had a 10 minute error on my watch. Don't ask me, I haven't got a clue. Each of the aid stations, on the run, had a theme which helped divert your mind away from those screaming leg muscles. The volunteers were awesome. From the little blue haired ladies at check-in to the young bucks running me down making sure I got what I asked for without having to stop. It had been awhile since I had seen the team and I wondered how they would be able to recognize me in the dark. So, I figured they had packed up and headed for the finish line. I remember vividly seeing mile marker 24 saying to myself I know I can run for 2.2 miles without walk breaks. However, 4 minutes later I was walking again. At mile 25 I remembered last year when we went to cheer for Mike, as he came around the corner with less than a half mile to go he was walking. I jumped right in there with "I know you are not going to walk to the finish line". (I know what you are thinking but, what are good friends for?) Pay back is usually tough so I just knew one of the team would be there holding up a sign from Mike saying "I know you are not going to walk to the finish line, Michael". They weren't there but just the thought motivated me to run that last 1.2 miles. Coming down the shoot with the music blaring, the announcer on the PA system and everyone screaming, I could still hear MY team cheering for me. In all the events I have participated in there is still no feeling like the feeling you get when you are totally spent and you hear those words, "Michael, you are an ironman".
After a cold piece of pizza, a Sprite (better than Gu and Power bars) a brief massage and a shower. I sat down to a wonderful plate of my wife's spaghetti. The family said their good nights and went to bed. Jackie and I went down to the finish line and helped support those who labored down the chute in the last hour. The finish line shut down at midnight. The last finisher that we cheered for came in at 16:58:32. Some of those at the end could not control their emotions. That's alright neither could we. What a wonderful day this had been, a new PR (I remember back when I kept setting PR's in the marathon), enjoying an event with friends, having prayers answered, having my family endure and enthusiastically support me every minute of this event and concluding the day supporting others with my arms wrapped around my sweetheart. What an awesome "tri-cation".
According to my GPS, I was still under my goal pace for a 5 hour marathon. Somehow I had a 10 minute error on my watch. Don't ask me, I haven't got a clue. Each of the aid stations, on the run, had a theme which helped divert your mind away from those screaming leg muscles. The volunteers were awesome. From the little blue haired ladies at check-in to the young bucks running me down making sure I got what I asked for without having to stop. It had been awhile since I had seen the team and I wondered how they would be able to recognize me in the dark. So, I figured they had packed up and headed for the finish line. I remember vividly seeing mile marker 24 saying to myself I know I can run for 2.2 miles without walk breaks. However, 4 minutes later I was walking again. At mile 25 I remembered last year when we went to cheer for Mike, as he came around the corner with less than a half mile to go he was walking. I jumped right in there with "I know you are not going to walk to the finish line". (I know what you are thinking but, what are good friends for?) Pay back is usually tough so I just knew one of the team would be there holding up a sign from Mike saying "I know you are not going to walk to the finish line, Michael". They weren't there but just the thought motivated me to run that last 1.2 miles. Coming down the shoot with the music blaring, the announcer on the PA system and everyone screaming, I could still hear MY team cheering for me. In all the events I have participated in there is still no feeling like the feeling you get when you are totally spent and you hear those words, "Michael, you are an ironman".
After a cold piece of pizza, a Sprite (better than Gu and Power bars) a brief massage and a shower. I sat down to a wonderful plate of my wife's spaghetti. The family said their good nights and went to bed. Jackie and I went down to the finish line and helped support those who labored down the chute in the last hour. The finish line shut down at midnight. The last finisher that we cheered for came in at 16:58:32. Some of those at the end could not control their emotions. That's alright neither could we. What a wonderful day this had been, a new PR (I remember back when I kept setting PR's in the marathon), enjoying an event with friends, having prayers answered, having my family endure and enthusiastically support me every minute of this event and concluding the day supporting others with my arms wrapped around my sweetheart. What an awesome "tri-cation".
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Ironman Thursday and Friday
(Owen and Jackson's shirts say "I can count to 140.6)
I went out for a swim in the beautifully clear Gulf yesterday. I spotted a huge stingray down below me and swam by more than one big jelly fish. They were freaky enough to alter my planned swim route. On my way down to swim, the first of the 2900 triathletes that I saw was Cindy Long (Yes, the same Cindy that aided me while I lay delirious on that Camden road 55 weeks ago). We enjoyed a hug and well wishes before getting on with our short workouts. I picked up my packet and then went out for a 10 mile bike ride. I rode out the race route for the first 5 miles. I know that my training levels have been way down this week so I have got to be storing up some energy. The first 5 miles were flat and fast. I was cruising at 19 and 20 with no effort at all. I thought "I am so ready for this". This pace seemed so easy to hold on to, and then I turned around. I found out why I had been cruising so easily. The wind pushed that "easy pace" down to a difficult 15 mph. I decided to take it easy and come back to the condo at whatever pace I could without working too hard. After being buffeted by the wind for a while I decided to pull off the road into an empty parking lot for a drink. I circled the lot and pulled out my water bottle. Then I glanced an island curb with my front wheel and went down in the shrubs. Boy, was I glad no one was watching. I checked out my new Zipps, brushed off my knee, chased down the water bottle, chuckled and climbed back in the saddle. Lesson for the day, don't be too confident in our own abilities and I'm glad I know how to get back on the bike after a tough spill.
"P-Day"
I woke up without the alarm clock this morning, had breakfast and then went down to the Expo and IM store. We wandered around the Expo area with Team Whetstone in tow. The grand kids had a good time making signs that read things like "Do Fast and Stuff" and "Go Big Daddy".
I came back to the condo, finished prepping my bike and packing the transition bags. Then Jackie, Christi and I went down to turn my bike into the transition area before the deadline. My bib number is 2789. Updates are available on ironmanlive.com. While I was looking through the race program book last night searching for the other Columbia area competitors, I wondered why my race number was after Rick's when I knew I had registered before Rick last year. After I found 3 or 4 of the Columbia folks I realized that the bib numbers were set in age order. There are 2900 of us here, and yes I am 111 from the top. When we went over to transition today, they were taking photos of your bikes as you turned them in. After they gave your bike back, there were volunteers directing you to the proper aisles for racking. The volunteer yelled out "bike number?" I said "2789" and he replied "oh, one of the old guys huh?" My thought was "gee, thanks". I was so glad to turn in the transition bags because with them comes a whole lot of anxiety. Now all I have to do is sit around and wait for my 8:30 PM bedtime. This "preparation" day is nicknamed "P-Day" by the full time LDS missionaries.
Jackie had the foresight to reserve us rooms overlooking the swim start out of one window and the transition area out of the other. Last year, as a spectator, the transition area music was my alarm clock but this year I'll be up long before it starts, I hope. The view from our balcony will allow for better observation of the athletes than being on the beach. They just cranked up the PA system for a test and I can hear it up here with the doors closed. Well, it's time to hit the sack. The forecast calls for 48 degrees at the start with 9 mph winds. Noon forecast calls for 64 degrees and 12-13 mph winds. Good thing I didn't dodge the windy day training rides.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Tour de Camden
Last Saturday morning I arose early like I do nearly every weekend. Instead of heading out to LHS to run a few loops with the LRC gang I headed east to Camden. On this date last year I received my first DNF in any registered sporting event. At mile 25.3 of the Tour de Camden bike ride I wrecked. This not only ended the TdC but also my year long preparation for the 2010 Ironman Florida . The outcome of the wreck was being knocked out, a couple cracked ribs and shattering my clavicle into 5 pieces.
As I scheduled training events for this years Ironman I knew I needed to include the TdC. I really didn't want to but I "needed" to. I had desired to drive down to Camden and do the course as one of my training rides earlier but that never happened. So now here I was again three weeks before the IM heading down to see if I could erase that DNF and possibly some uneasy feelings that have existed for the last year. I have been very anxious about this ride for several weeks now.
I had heard that several of the Ironman Florida participants from the midlands area were going to Camden to get in one last long ride. Included in that group were two Good Samaritans, Cindy and Craig. As far as I know they were the only riders in Camden last year who knew who I was. We didn't know each other very well but we had met. Both of them unselfishly stopped and aided me after the wreck. Cindy made the dreaded call to inform Jackie of the accident. Their further assistance, just like the remainder of that day, is still a mystery to me. We may not be the best of friends but I can't see Cindy without giving her a hug.
As I began to prepare my gear the night before I first checked the weather forecast. It was supposed to be fairly cool in the morning. I haven't had too many cool rides lately so I had to dig out a few items to keep me warm. I pulled out a long sleeved shirt to wear under my favorite 7-Up jersey, noticing holes on the back of the jersey that were a result of last years crash. I remember telling the nurse tech at the hospital "please don't cut off my jersey." They managed to pull it down over my hips and legs. I looked for my new blue light weight jacket but was unsuccessful. I did however find the identical neon yellow jacket that Jackie bought me to replace the one that was shredded by the asphalt. It was the only snug light jacket that I had. It was déjà vu when I pulled out my battle scarred toe warmers and the full fingered gloves that protected my hands when I hit the road last year.
The IM Florida group were all planning on riding the 50 mile course twice, but Jackie and I had been invited to go see Styx at the SC State Fair with Mary Beth and Kevin. So, I didn't have enough time for that long of a ride. I had planned on riding the metric century 62 mile route. But, I was holding my own with the Columbia group so I continued with them back to the Camden Historical Park and began the second loop with them. While we were riding the first loop we encountered a fairly tough headwind. We had assembled a pretty good "pace line". I had just completed my turn at the front so I peeled off and fell all the way to the back of the line. Soon I heard something hit the riders bike in front of me and then he rubbed tires with the guy in front of him and they both went down. I was only 3 feet behind him but in that fraction of a second I could envision me hitting the road again. Somehow, I dodged his back wheel as it went horizontal. I'm fully confident that the multitude of prayers that day on my behalf allowed for at least one miracle to be recognized. I turned around and came back to find that the first guy had knocked his computer off his bike. That was what hit the second guy's bike. He turned his head to look, swerved and they rubbed tires. After I saw that both were okay with just a few scratches I found and returned the first guy's computer. In the mishap one of them had a blowout. They had the necessary changing gear so I left to chase down the group. This years course was changed from last year and if we ever came by that spot where I wrecked last year, I never knew it. But that didn't prevent me from thinking about it for the entire ride.
On the second loop, I calculated where I needed to make the point to return and complete my metric century. I said my goodbyes to the gang, made a U-turn, and returned to the historic park by myself. Since I was doing pretty good on time, I slowed it down a little bit and cruised back in. As I pulled into the park, a thought ran through my mind so I texted it to Mary Beth, "its just a bike ride". Getting to the point where it became "just" a bike ride, was quite a challenge.
Ever since that dreaded day at the Tour de Camden in 2010, I never climb in the saddle without thinking will today be a repeat. Every rock, dip, speed bump, twig or piece of trash makes me wonder if I may be on my way down again. We all have challenges, some more obvious than others. What defines us is how we respond to those challenges. But thanks to the help of friends and family, I overcame this one challenge and was able to get back on that "carbon" horse and ride!
As I scheduled training events for this years Ironman I knew I needed to include the TdC. I really didn't want to but I "needed" to. I had desired to drive down to Camden and do the course as one of my training rides earlier but that never happened. So now here I was again three weeks before the IM heading down to see if I could erase that DNF and possibly some uneasy feelings that have existed for the last year. I have been very anxious about this ride for several weeks now.
I had heard that several of the Ironman Florida participants from the midlands area were going to Camden to get in one last long ride. Included in that group were two Good Samaritans, Cindy and Craig. As far as I know they were the only riders in Camden last year who knew who I was. We didn't know each other very well but we had met. Both of them unselfishly stopped and aided me after the wreck. Cindy made the dreaded call to inform Jackie of the accident. Their further assistance, just like the remainder of that day, is still a mystery to me. We may not be the best of friends but I can't see Cindy without giving her a hug.
As I began to prepare my gear the night before I first checked the weather forecast. It was supposed to be fairly cool in the morning. I haven't had too many cool rides lately so I had to dig out a few items to keep me warm. I pulled out a long sleeved shirt to wear under my favorite 7-Up jersey, noticing holes on the back of the jersey that were a result of last years crash. I remember telling the nurse tech at the hospital "please don't cut off my jersey." They managed to pull it down over my hips and legs. I looked for my new blue light weight jacket but was unsuccessful. I did however find the identical neon yellow jacket that Jackie bought me to replace the one that was shredded by the asphalt. It was the only snug light jacket that I had. It was déjà vu when I pulled out my battle scarred toe warmers and the full fingered gloves that protected my hands when I hit the road last year.
The IM Florida group were all planning on riding the 50 mile course twice, but Jackie and I had been invited to go see Styx at the SC State Fair with Mary Beth and Kevin. So, I didn't have enough time for that long of a ride. I had planned on riding the metric century 62 mile route. But, I was holding my own with the Columbia group so I continued with them back to the Camden Historical Park and began the second loop with them. While we were riding the first loop we encountered a fairly tough headwind. We had assembled a pretty good "pace line". I had just completed my turn at the front so I peeled off and fell all the way to the back of the line. Soon I heard something hit the riders bike in front of me and then he rubbed tires with the guy in front of him and they both went down. I was only 3 feet behind him but in that fraction of a second I could envision me hitting the road again. Somehow, I dodged his back wheel as it went horizontal. I'm fully confident that the multitude of prayers that day on my behalf allowed for at least one miracle to be recognized. I turned around and came back to find that the first guy had knocked his computer off his bike. That was what hit the second guy's bike. He turned his head to look, swerved and they rubbed tires. After I saw that both were okay with just a few scratches I found and returned the first guy's computer. In the mishap one of them had a blowout. They had the necessary changing gear so I left to chase down the group. This years course was changed from last year and if we ever came by that spot where I wrecked last year, I never knew it. But that didn't prevent me from thinking about it for the entire ride.
On the second loop, I calculated where I needed to make the point to return and complete my metric century. I said my goodbyes to the gang, made a U-turn, and returned to the historic park by myself. Since I was doing pretty good on time, I slowed it down a little bit and cruised back in. As I pulled into the park, a thought ran through my mind so I texted it to Mary Beth, "its just a bike ride". Getting to the point where it became "just" a bike ride, was quite a challenge.
Ever since that dreaded day at the Tour de Camden in 2010, I never climb in the saddle without thinking will today be a repeat. Every rock, dip, speed bump, twig or piece of trash makes me wonder if I may be on my way down again. We all have challenges, some more obvious than others. What defines us is how we respond to those challenges. But thanks to the help of friends and family, I overcame this one challenge and was able to get back on that "carbon" horse and ride!
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