I guess since I am now officially registered for IMFL 2009, it's about time to share what happened. As most of you already know, I did not finish or DNFed. Here are the details. It's still hard for me to talk or think about because I'm so mad at myself.
Leading up to the race, I was very concerned about making the bike cut-off; not because I didn't think I was capable of riding 112 miles in the allotted time - I knew I could do that - but because I was worried that the swim might take a lot out of me, and would impact the bike more than I anticipated. IMFL is in the Gulf and water conditions are variable. When I was there in May for the Gulf Coast Tri, the water was horrible. I was worried that if the water was like it was that day that I would be really tired, and if there was excessive wind then I might be in trouble. I was never worried or concerned that I could finish the entire race - for some reason running a marathon after all that wasn't bothering me. It was going to be hard, and it was going to suck, but I knew I could do it. However, if I missed the bike cut-off then I wouldn't even get the chance to suffer through the run.
Well, the weather leading up to the race was perfect. The Gulf was like a lake, and the race day weather prediction was more of the same so I was starting to feel good about everything. I had put in the training - a lot of it in pretty crappy conditions, and much of it by myself - and I was ready. I was surrounded by my friends from Texas, and my husband and my brother, Chris. Of course, I was nervous, but also excited, and ready to see what I could do.
The weather on race morning was just as predicted, and the water looked great. I've swam in lakes with more chop. I stuck to Joey and Maggie like glue before the swim started. After all, they've done this before. I stuck with my swim plan, which was to be conservative, but steady. I wanted to be out of the water in under 2 hours AND feel good. I did both of those things. I could've swam harder, but I was less concerned about the swim time, and more concerned about feeling good when I got on the bike.
I went through transition where I had two lovely volunteers, who were around the same age as my mom and whom I've never met, completely undress and redress me. Good thing I'm not shy. Oh, and they fed me, too. Actually, they wouldn't let me do anything for myself. I had put a bunch of different things in my T1 bag - some of them I likely wouldn't need - and it was really funny listening to them go through and tell me what I needed to take with me. They even stuffed my bike jersey pockets for me. I wonder if that's what royalty felt like back in the day.
I exited the tent to see my awesome bike waiting for me. I grabbed the bike and headed out of transition. I was riding well to start, but stuck with my plan. On shorter races, I like to start off fast to get my legs warmed up and get moving, but for IM I knew I was going to be hungry exiting the swim so the plan was to start eating soon after getting out on the ride. I felt really good on the ride, and the weather was gorgeous, so I was really puzzled when my speeds were not reflecting what my training indicated I should be doing. I kept thinking maybe the wind is stronger than I thought, maybe I'm more tired than I felt, all kinds of things started going through my head. Around mile 30 when my pace was starting to concern me, I thought maybe there's something wrong with my rear tire. Now that may seem like a random thought to have, but the day before when we were riding our bikes up to bike check-in, I noticed that my rear tire was overinflated and had a bulge in it. I let out some air and everything seemed fine. I thought about changing the tire, just to be safe, but in the bustle of check-in, it didn't happen. So now I'm thinking maybe it's the tire. It didn't feel flat - it's easy to tell when you are riding on a flat tire - so I just kept going. I figured I'd check it at the special needs stop, since I'd be getting off the bike anyway. I hurried through special needs - only taking the time to scarf one of my PBJ sandwhiches. Time was really starting to become an issue. I almost forgot to check the tire, but remembered at the last minute and squeezed it, and started cursing - very soft. I gave it a shot of CO2 and headed out. I was going to have to stop soon for a bathroom break so I opted to just give it some air as opposed to changing the tire. If it was low again when I stopped, I'd change it. Well as soon as I started out, I could feel the difference. I was flying. I started cursing - I hadn't been slow, it had been the tire. When I stopped, the tire was low again so I changed it, and was back on my way. I haven't changed a tire in forever, but I remembered what my coach said about staying calm, and got it done fairly quickly.
I rode as hard as I could, I knew it was going to be close to make the time cut-off. Around mile 85 or so, the road got really crappy, and started slowing me down. By this time, I had a motorcycle escort so I rode close to the yellow line to find smooth road. It's not like I'm going to get hit from behind with a motorcycle behind me. I'm sure that police officer never expected to hear such language coming from a woman triathlete, but I can swear with the best of 'em, and every time I hit a patch of crap road that dropped my speed below 18mph, I let one fly. I was also crying at the same time because I was doing the math and I was pretty sure by that point that I wasn't going to make the 100 mile cut-off time. I was so mad at myself for all the things I could have done to prevent the tire from slowing me down.
Around mile 95, I spotted my car. Mike had used it to spot the female pros out on the bike course, and had an official race vehicle sticker so he could go wherever. Brian had been tracking me online and when he realized I was close to missing the cut-off, the guys piled into the car and came out on the course. They followed me until I got pulled off the course at mile 100 and then pulled in to pick me up. They totally confused the guy telling me I had to stop, but when he realized they were going to take me, I think he was relieved to not have to deal with an upset athlete. I handed him my bike, and climbed in the car. No one really knew what to say, and I think I suprised everyone by babbling on like a crazy person. I had already cried and cursed for the last hour, and my endorphins were crazy from all the exertion. Mike commented that I needed some sugar. He was probably right.
Once we got back to the house, I changed and went out to cheer for Joey, Janice, and Maggie, and everyone else, too. I was extremely upset, but I also had a ridiculous amount of energy, since I was suposed to be running a marathon. Being able to cheer on my friends made me feel so much better even though I really wanted to be out there running with them. They all looked fantastic even if they felt like dying. Watching them finish was so wonderful, and so disappointing for me at the same time.
The next day, I got up and registered for IMFL 2009. If at first you don't succeed... Mike was registering, too, and Janice decided, as we were standing in line, that she was in again, too. Joey and Maggie are coming as support, and my brother, Chris, is coming back, too. My sister Sarah is also coming next year so it will be a lively group.
I will be mad at myself for a long time. The tire issue was completely avoidable - if I had changed it before the race, if I had stopped sooner, if, if , if. I even questioned my training - I have an awesome coach, and I never questioned that I wasn't doing enough, but when something like this happens, it does creep into your thoughts. I pulled up my training schedule from the summer, and it made me feel good. I put in a lot of work, and I'm really proud of my effort. A few days ago, I saw the professional photos from the race. You can clearly see the low tire in one of the pics. These pics were taken pretty early in the ride so it definitely wasn't my training. I got mad all over again. Right now I'm dealing with it okay - after all, in the grand scheme of things, it's not the end of the world - but I am quite sure when I am training through next summer that I will be mad at myself all over again. Brian assures me that it's not wrong to wish for a drought so I don't have to deal with excessive rain and 95% humidity, but then again, he hates rain.
Ironically, awhile back Joey and I had been talking about the ridiculous amounts of money triathletes of average ability will spend on bikes. He had been in Jack & Adam's when a guy had spent $2500 on race wheels. I had mentioned that I would not mind having a set of race wheels - not because I think they will make me faster, but because it would be nice to have wheels that don't get ridden everyday. I ride through all kind of craps on the road, and it would be comforting to know that I had good tires for races. I had no idea how prescient that conversation would be. Yes, I am getting race wheels. No, I am not spending $2500 - that would be ridiculous.
Even with the DNF, this was a great experience, and I had a great time. When I line up on the beach next year, I may technically be an "Iron Virgin", but I know full well what to expect - at least for 2/3 of the race. I still can't decide what it says about me that my first ever DNF is an Ironman - any thoughts?
