What an Ironman Day
I wanted to post and document all the things I saw, thought, and felt yesterday. I’ve been told there’s nothing like your first time, so here goes. It’s going to be a long one…
I was actually able to get about 5-6 h ours of sleep Saturday night, and woke up around 2:30-3:00am on Sunday. I fixed my normal workout breakfast, and did some work before heading down to the start at about 4:30. Checkin was actually a lot more organized than I imagined, and I was done and ready to rock at 5:30. Which meant an hour of waiting…. Luckily I had family and friends to help with that part.
The swim was rough. There was a lot of chop and the wind was blowing almost directly into us for the longest leg of the swim. It honestly felt like I was making little to no progress the whole time. I was riding the waves up and down, and each breath was a challenge. You had to pick them just right, in the trough of the waves. Otherwise, you got a mouthfull.
I started out a lot slower on the bike than I intended. I guess I just kept thinking about those 26.2 miles at the end. Every hill was about saving my legs for the run. Even on the straights, I found myself holding back, thinking about it. Then at mile 75, it hit me…literally. A bee flew under my glasses and stung me in face, right below my eye. My worst fear had just come true. I was actually more mad than in pain, and I knew at that moment there was no way I was going to NOT finish this. If I was getting stung in the eye, I was going to be an Ironman dammit. The hills were challenging, and the headwind on the last leg of the ride was brutal. But I knew those were coming, and somehow that made it bearable.
Then came the run. People always talk about hitting the wall, that point where you can go no further and want to quit. I don’t know if I actually hit ‘the wall’, but I will tell you that by mile 3, I was beat. I expected to feel a little better after a few miles of running, but instead, I was hot and miserable. I had already walked more than I had planned, and when I went into Camp Randall for the first time, it hit me. This was the best it was going to get. This was as good as I was going to feel on the run, the rest would only get worse…and I had 23 more miles of it. I briefly thought about quitting, but the thought of doing it all over again was too much. I wasn’t going to stop. By mile 13, the sun had started to go down, and things had cooled off a bit. While I never really got my stride back, I did just fine jogging and walking the rest of the course. By mile 23 i was sore and tired, but felt pretty good, considering. I had about 40 minutes left until the 15 hour mark. Part of me really, really wanted to finish under 15 hours. But I looked around me, and all I saw were heads hung low. People were defeated, miserable, and generally not happy. While I can’t say I was happy, I was actually enjoying myself by that time. I KNEW I was going to finish, it was just a question of when. And honestly, at that point, finishing in 14:59 or 15:05 really didn’t matter. For the first time, I truly appreciated the advice that had been given to me. Your first Ironman isn’t about the time, it’s about finishing. Maybe that’s a copout, or maybe that’s just my non-competitive nature. But honestly, I wanted to finish with a smile on my face. I wanted to stop before the finish line and hand my son the glowrope that had been around my neck all night. So, I decided not to push myself and race to the finish. 15:05 was just fine. I remember one spectator, with 2 miles to go, shouted at me, “Keep going, you’re doing great, no regrets! No regrets today!” I looked at her for a moment, and honestly couldn’t figure out what she was talking about. But then I gave her a little smile when it hit me. She thinks I regret finishing this slow… I simply smiled a little wider and said, “No worries, no regrets.”
I jogged my way down the finishers chute and stopped to give my son his glowrope necklace. I high-fived my friends, family, and total strangers. I raised my arms up high, and smiled like there was no tomorrow. I was an Ironman. No regrets.
Well written documentation of the year of training and accomplishment. I am so proud of you!
You ARE an Ironman!!!