I am officially an Ironwoman!

I did it!!!!

November 7, 2009 – a day I will never forget. It was the hardest but most gratifying day of my life. I make no apologies for the length of this report. After all, there is a lot to say about an incredibly long day.

Pre-race

Much to my surprise, I got some decent sleep the night before the race. It probably helped that I was utterly exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before and the emotional energy expended on Friday.

I had my usual pre-race breakfast of orange juice and shredded wheat with soy milk. All was calm since I had laid out everything I needed the night before. There wasn’t much thinking to be done, fortunately. As required, the day before I checked in my bike and run transition bags and racked my bike in the transition area.  It was nice to have that all done ahead of time.

I headed out the door, on my way to the race site. I got to the elevator and realized it would probably be a good idea to take my special needs bags with me. Oops. Nerves. [Special needs bags are bags with your race number that you have access to on the halfway points of the bike and run. You can pack anything you want from food to clothes or even pictures as some people do. ]

Once I had everything I headed to the transition area to drop off my special needs bags and pump my bike tires. It all went smoothly. I also stopped to hug every Team Zer I could find (there were 40+ of us).

I then headed for the beach to find the Team Z tent. There I found the Knight and Jenn setting up the tent. I felt completely comfortable with just sitting and watching their efforts.

Gradually my teammates arrived. Things were bustling. Victoria and Cris shared an iPod and were grooving out singing and dancing. Coach Ed’s dog Zoe, dressed in a tri top (which Ed said she requested because her support crew t-shirt didn’t show off her figure) jumped around in the sand. Family, friends, Z-ers were everywhere and it was awesome. I was too distracted to be nervous.

We took a team picture on the water dressed in our wetsuits and moments later we were waiting to enter the water. I met up with Kim and Tanya, my training partners who had completed IM Florida twice before.

Swim

The horn went off precisely at 7 am and approximately 2,500 triathletes began the swim. Kim, Tanya and I had decided to begin slowly. We walked in the water and got acclimated. Kim and Tanya had said we would all stay together. I protested because I said they were faster. Tanya and I swim together every morning and she said I swim faster that they do and that they didn’t care about time.

I should mention the state of the water that this point. In the days leading up to the race I kept hearing everyone say how the water was “like glass.” Well, on race morning there was nothing glass-like about the water. In fact, the waves hitting me as I entered the water almost knocked me over. Once I was in I realized how large the swells were.

We began to swim and as the water entered my wetsuit I felt good. I felt my wetsuit loosen up as it filled with water. It occurred to me that it felt much looser than usual. I stopped and realized that my zipper had somehow completely unfastened and my wetsuit was wide open. I look forward and saw the girls. Tanya with her foot up in the air and Kim trying to put Tanya’s chip back on her ankle. I have no idea how that happened. I swam over and they tried to fix my suit but it was too difficult. So I swam the whole first loop (the course was two 1.2 mile loops) with my wetsuit half on [which is why, I brilliantly determined, I have tan lines on my back].

Every time the girls stopped for me I would tell them to keep going. It was so nice of them to wait but I felt bad about holding them up. I was actually glad when halfway through the first loop I didn’t see them anymore. [The next day we discussed it and they convinced me that it isn’t that I swim slower, it is that I stop more.  I’ll get back to this later.]

My stroke felt pretty good and I felt like I was moving pretty quickly. I refused to let the salt get to me. The swells were ridiculous though. They were so high that half of the time I couldn’t see the buoys. I joked with one of the kayakers that I would like him to tell the race organizers to get larger buoys next time. Seriously. 

They are actually pretty large but the swells were larger.

I learned on the run course that I wasn’t the only one who had difficulty with the waves in the swim. A few people mentioned that they had vomited repeatedly because they were seasick. I also heard that people had a tough time when they would get slammed down by the waves. I was grateful that I quickly adapted by making sure that my face was in the water before I got slammed down.

I just kept hearing the advice my coach and teammates had given me to just keep moving forward and just put your head down and swim.

I finished the first loop in around 1:03. Slower than I would have liked but within reach of making the 2:20 cutoff. When I exited the water I asked a lifeguard to zip me up. Afterwards I thought perhaps I preferred the unzipped wetsuit…it was much more comfortable.

As I made my way across the sand to begin the second loop I saw lots of my supporters. The Knight, Doc Keith, and fellow Z-ers.

Then I saw my fellow BOPers (back of packers). Oh, my BOPers. I was the only BOPer that was attempting Ironman. It frustrated me when my teammates who had done a sub 6-hour half ironman expressed concern about the cutoff times. Not to minimize their concerns, but I didn’t think they really had anything to worry about. Yet here I was feeling absolutely panicked.

Tracey, Janet, Priscilla, Sally and Jacquie were all making the trek to Florida to support the race. I sent them a message Friday afternoon telling them that I absolutely could not wait for them to arrive with their funny signs and great attitudes. There is something so comforting about being supported by people who can truly relate to your challenges.

When I was about to re-enter the water I saw and heard my BOPers. Wow! They were SCREAMING. It was so awesome!  I heard them until I was too far away. It was so great.

The second loop was pretty uneventful. At some point I was stopped and I asked myself why. I wasn’t that tired. My heart rate was a little high, but not too much. At that point I was able to sight on a building, so it wasn’t because I needed to get oriented. I asked myself why I was stopping. I don’t know.  I decided that I would swim 100 strokes and then stop for a break. It made a difference. However, I was already 3/4 of the way through the swim and wish I had thought of that strategy earlier.

Finally, after 2 hours and 7 minutes of swimming I made it out of the water. Just 13 minutes shy of the cutoff but that was plenty of time. Yes!!!

Transition 1

I exited the water, high fived my fans and teammates and went to the wetsuit strippers. I remembered to detach my Garmin this time. I sat on the ground, leaned back and they tugged my wetsuit off me. Finally!

I walked through the showers and to the bag pickup area. Then into the changing area where volunteers helped me strip naked and get dressed for the bike. Coach Ed chastised me for taking so long but I was honestly moving as quickly as I could. Swimming that long is tiring and I was doing a full clothing change.

The volunteers were awesome. One of the benefits of being slower is that there were plenty of volunteers available when I got there. I actually got two women all to myself. They laid out all of my stuff and helped me put it all on. Putting a dry sports bra on a wet body is much harder than it sounds. Having someone tugging on the back for you helps immensely.

I ran out and saw Ms. Piggy on the rack. I still needed to run down to the end of the chute and back around, so I yelled to the volunteer standing nearby that my bike was the one with the hot pink handlebars. That wasn’t really necessary since there are volunteers who are shouting your race numbers ahead of you, but it was neat.

Just like that I was running Ms. Piggy out to the mounting line.

Bike

Oh, the bike. Just starting to think about it makes me get choked up.

A few days before I had calculated my required speed based on potential swim and transition times. Since I had swum in 2:07 and taken 10 minutes in transition, I now needed to average 14.1 mph on the bike.

Although I had averaged 14.8 at Bassman that was only for 56 miles and that was with no stops at all. I knew I would have to stop at least a few times for potty breaks and nutrition, but hopefully nothing else.

The week before the race Coach Ed told me the story of a teammate who missed the IM bike cutoff by one minute. He said that her GPS had recorded 24 minutes of stop time. That really reminded me that every minute counts.

The first few miles were on familiar territory and the wind was in my favor. I was averaging 15 mph and I felt good. I was confident. And then I made a turn and I slowed down significantly. I was riding around 12-13 mph. My Garmin was attached to my aerobars and I had it set to show my average pace. I was watching it constantly and my heart was sinking as I watched it tick down slowly one-tenth of a mile per hour at a time. I was getting extremely nervous.

Although I had planned to stay in zone 2 the entire time, I had not yet actually been in zone 2 at all. I gave it some thought and remembered the Ken Mierke had told me that it was okay if I spent time in zone 3 on the bike since I had the unusual situation of having zones 2 and 3 be very similar physiologically.

I kept going. Zone 2 is 135-143, but I was working in high zone 3 and low zone 4 the entire time. By the time I stopped for my special needs bag at mile 49, I was certain I was done for. I had been working at maximum capacity for over 3.5 hours and it didn’t look good. I was expecting to bonk at any time.

I picked up my bottles of Infinit, my extra combos and oreos, and headed out determined to go until I couldn’t go anymore.

At mile 50 I turned a corner, but literally and figuratively. Just like that I was riding 15, 16, 17, 18 mph or more. I started to have hope. Soon enough, my average pace was 13.5 mph. I started talking to Garmin. Begging it to go just a little higher. Come on 13.6, come on.

I was cranking. Pedaling my heart out. Pushing harder than I have ever pushed before. Still concerned that I would bonk from too much effort, but I couldn’t stop. I had to keep pushing as hard as I could.

At the halfway point, I had been out for 4 hours and 7 minutes. I had 3 hours and 50 minutes to make the cutoff. I had calculated that I would need to ride 14.6 mph or faster to make it. At this point I was cranking. I decided to stay in high zone 3 and build in a buffer if possible. Not that I had gotten too down, but my spirits were improving.

The course itself was incredibly boring. I heard afterwards that people had been frustrated by the clusters of riders on the course. Not me. Maybe it is another advantage of being a slow swimmer. I saw very few other riders on the course. And contrary to my expectations, there was no crowd support and almost no signage.

However…there were some signs on the course. Every so often I would spot a cluster of fluorescent green spots up ahead. The anticipation of getting to them was wonderful. My BOPers had driven the entire course and left their characteristic funny signs. Most of them were only funny if you were on the team.  Fabulous.

Around mile 69, I heard a car approaching ringing cowbells. It was my BOPers. When they saw me they starting screaming like madwomen.  They U-turned, 6 of them jumped out of the car with bells, signs, hats, wigs and the most AMAZING enthusiasm. My sweet Janet was screaming over and over at the top of her lungs “I am SO PROUD OF YOU!”  It was absolutely incredible. Next thing I knew my eyes felt watery and it wasn’t the wind.

A few miles later I turned on to the hellish bumpy road that was uphill, poorly paved (bumps every 20 feet), and had a headwind. Yes. I’m not making this up.

But guess what else there was. A team Z tent! This point was at the beginning of the out and back 5-mile stretch so I got to see them twice. The Knight was there. After the race he asked me if I liked his outfit and sign and I told him I couldn’t see any of it. I was pushing so hard I just saw his face. Turns out he was wearing a grass skirt, flower lei, and cowboy hat. So if anyone took a picture, I’d love to see it.

He said I looked great and that from my smile he thought I was fine. He had no idea how hard I was working and that I was in such danger of being disqualified. I’m telling you that while part of it was my good attitude, the cheering just put me on top of the world.  My Z-ers weren’t just ringing bells. They were screaming my name, jumping up and down, and sending me the best vibes in the world.

I. just. Kept. Cranking. I would not stop pedaling. Every so often I would search my mental jukebox and pick a song to belt out. There was a lot of 80’s music. Fame was my favorite pick. Living on a Prayer kept popping up. Pink songs like Funhouse, too. Just doing whatever I could to get through it.

The BOPers kept reappearing. It was great. Some time later the BOPers drove up again and this time they stopped screaming long enough that we could speak. :) I thanked them for the signs and told them that they were practically the only ones on the course.  I told them that I thought I was going to make it and they went crazy.

Even later they reappeared again and Sally told me that she had called the Knight and told him that I was going to make it and he was elated. I told them “I am all that and a bag of chips” which was what they’d written on one of their signs. They laughed and stuck a tube of Pringles out the window and offered me one.

They promised to see me on the run and I kept chugging along.

Finally I watched my average pace reach 14.1 mph and I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I was within reach. I was still concerned that I would hit a headwind, or worse, but I kept cranking. I changed my goal from making the cutoff to making it with time to spare.

Within the final 20 miles, every time I saw a cop directing traffic, volunteers at an aid station, or people walking along the road leading to the race site I just had to tell them, “I’m going to make it.”  I still can’t believe it. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. As I had been telling people beforehand, if I can make it to the run course, I am golden. And I was getting my chance. Ironman was going to happen.

I made it back to transition with 7 minutes to spare. It was amazing. The sun was already setting and it was pretty dark.

As I was shouting “I made it” to random people I heard my friend Becky shout, “Is that Cat?” I said yes, I ran up and gave her a hug, accepted my bike to run bag from a volunteer and headed into change. It was great to be able to change shorts, shirt, and socks. A wonderful volunteer helped me change and I was off. I was so happy and the word is that I was beaming from ear to ear.

I made it! 7:50.

Run

Heading out on the run I felt great. I was so excited to  run by the team Z tent. The experience did not disappoint.  Jackie and Annie gave me some glow necklaces which I wore on my head for the duration of the run.

My adrenaline was pumping and I started out running sub 10-minute miles, 1 mile: 1 minute. Mile 6 took a turn into a park that was almost totally dark except for the light of the moon. We would run a few mile loop before turning around to head back to transition. It was a two-loop course.

I was grooving along but not being able to see the ground was kind of freaky. That is when I met my new best friend Christy. Being an experienced ironman competitor, she was wearing a visor with a clip on light. Very smart. We started running together and it turned out we had a lot in common.

She and I had just about the same swim and bike times. We figured out that we were next to each other in transition and she had passed me on the bike in the last couple of miles. We had pretty much the same plan for the run and run about the same pace for marathons.

We wound up running the last 20 miles together and it was such a blessing. It made the quiet and dark parts of the course go so much faster.

One of the benefits of the two-loop out and back course was the opportunity to see my teammates. Although it was hard to see because of the lack of light, there was no mistaking the Team Z spirit. We have these crazy plastic horns that you can hear from far away.[ The Knight tells me that the deputy sheriff at the remote bike cheering station cautioned the horn blowers not to blow them after dark because they sounded just like the mating call of the indigenous brown bear. Ha! He also said that after blowing those for a little while your lips look like you’ve had botox.]

Team Z even set up a remote cheering station on the run. Melody, Iwan, Mary and Kona Chris manned it. It was terrific. Every time we ran buy Iwan would jump in and run with me/us for a little while and it just made me feel so supported. We could chat for a few seconds without screaming. That was great.

As the miles went on, our run portions and hence our pace slowed gradually.  Still, we talked a lot about how proud we were of ourselves because we were actually moving pretty well and passing tons of people. We were even getting compliments from other racers and volunteers.

We started falling apart around mile 18. I’ve been very fortunate up till now that I’ve never experienced stomach issues. Well, I hope to never experience them again. I may be able to push through muscle pain, fatigue and blisters, but tummy trouble is a whole other ballgame.

From that point forward, gels made me gag and I was scared to put anything in my stomach. But I was getting really hungry. I did have a little chicken broth and a little Gatorade but finally took Christy’s advice to just have small sips of water.

Around mile 22 we were running and I looked down at my Garmin and pointed out that while we felt like we were zooming along, we were actually only going at a 13:30 pace. But hey, we were moving and we were almost home.

We decided that since it was my first IM, I would cross the finish line first. But then, as we got close, there was Coach Ed. He took my picture and then he practically jumped me. He ran up and almost tackled me. He gave me the biggest hug ever and lifted me off the ground and jumped around. It was awesome. He told me to practice my finish line dance as I passed the team tent.

I took off sprinting and after 15 hours and 52 minutes of racing I crossed the finish line. It was incredible! I vaguely heard the announcer call my name and tell me that I was an Ironman.

Dr. Keith caught me and also gave me a great hug. I got my medal, finisher’s hat and shirt, and a space blanket. Keith walked me around a bit and I told him I was actually okay but I was starving. My teammates and the Knight caught up with me after the finish line. It was a great moment.

Believe it or not, there is more to tell. But I’ve been writing all day and so I will have to wait to tell you about post race and recovery. I am doing great and am so incredibly proud of myself. I am so happy.

Thanks for reading. Stay tuned. I am going to post the pictures separately because there are so many and because I'm lazy...a lazy ironman.