My first full Ironman.
I started doing triathlon in March of 2016 (also getting my very first road bike ever!), doing my first sprint in June 2016. I had ridden mountain bikes short distances (less than 10 miles), all sort of terrain, and been running since August of 2013. I knew how to swim, what I call “survival” swimming skills, since I was about 6 or 7 years old, but never refined it until about July 2016…yes after my first sprint (I did a lot of back stroke and not freestyle). To put it bluntly, I was a true novice. Most triathletes come from one of the three backgrounds, swimming being a popular one. Mine was running, the last sport in the triathlon, the one that’s hardest to do well at at that point in a race. I did my first few Xterra races that summer of 2016 (equivalent to olympic distance and time, effort is a different story), and succeeded in finishing my first half Ironman in late October 2016 in Los Cabos Mexico, beating the cutoff by 8 minutes (8 hour cutoff). My swim was slow then, finishing in about 58 minutes (granted it was the ocean and no wetsuit), but was wonderful, my bike was VERY slow as I encountered an unexpected bike course change that was NOT on the website (that I had trained according to), and a death run (temperatures were in the upper 90s with high humidity and full sun!), averaging 12:28 mins/mi. In short, I prepared myself the best I could given time and course conditions. I sought out a new PR on the Ironman 70.3 Ohio course this year, end of July. I busted out a solid bike, my swim was ok, and the run…I struggled a lot on (11:42 mins/mi, LOTS of walking), granted it was hot then in the upper 80s, but that wasn’t the issue. In all, I hadn’t had a good longer distance triathlon where I was comfortable on the run until the USAT National Age Group Championships in Omaha, Nebraska.
I had just come off a peak week of Ironman training before the race on August 12th, 2017, and I didn’t feel great on those days and felt like I had a small cold. I pressed on. I had the race of my life. My swim was great, not wetsuit legal, 1 mile swim in 43 minutes, my bike was fast averaging 17.3 mph for the 40k ride, and then busting out an almost 10k PR on the hot steamy pavement at 57:38. The next day however, I felt like I had been hit by the sick bus three times over. From that point on, I did not do any workouts until the week before Ironman in September. Depression got to me, despair, whatever you want to call it…my fear of now being unable to finish Ironman was real. I kept trying smaller workouts, but I would not get better every time I tried. I did everything right, drank fluids, slept, rested, stretched…nothing was making me better. A few days before race day, I finally felt like it had dissipated. Picked up my packet early Thursday. Friday, I went to pick up my mom and sister after the Welcome Banquet, and Ironman weekend began.
At this point, I’m going to go into some smaller prerace details, if you would rather skip to race day, scroll on down!
I wasn’t used to doing such a long race locally, as many of you know, I generally travel for longer races and racecation when possible. So I was a mess with the excess amount of time I had to put everything together into the little gear bags and organize a mess of items I would need for race day. That Friday, I was thankful two items I wanted to wear for the run came in: One from Inknburn (thank you Tani!) and one from a friend to “rent” for the weekend. I also got in a few more spare tubes for my bike. Eventually it all came together. Saturday I dropped off my bike (early!) and walked a lot downtown. Also, handed off the T1/T2 bags, which was well organized I thought. It had been chilly that week, so light jackets were required (at least by someone as cold as I am), but that also brought the Lake Monona temps down to about 67°F. Usually pre-race evening, I eat either asian or mexican food to have something spicy. Every place we went was so busy! So I had some mac’n’cheese…not the greatest pre-race meal but it did ok. Dropped by Culver’s and picked up some frozen lemonaid for my special needs on the bike 🙂 That evening, I knew sleeping would be difficult, but I didn’t know I wouldn’t get more than 3 hours, and those were not all at once. The anxiety was high with me…I thought about time cut offs, I thought about what would happen, plans in case something went wrong. Over and over again, in my head I raced through race day. I was exhausted, so I pulled up the site “how slow can you go in an ironman” and the athlete guide, memorizing numbers and paces.
Eventually I rose at about 3:30am, getting up to eat some lucky charms and hydrate a little. My mom had gotten me a small pusheen plushie keychain and I put it on my camelback for good luck. I woke everyone else up and we packed up and walked out the door. Got to downtown about 5am, and I dropped off my special needs bags. I headed towards my T1 bag, when I got there, I realized I had forgotten my throw-away jacket I had gotten at goodwill (the temperatures that morning were NOT going to be friendly to me!) and panicked slightly as I thought that also had my salt and gels for the bike in that same bag. It turned out the only thing I was missing was the jacket. My mom let me have her spare fleece jacket ❤
I calmed down. Well kind of. My heart rate was bouncing at about 80-100 bpm the whole morning. I went to my bike and added the nutrition and water bottles. With wetsuit in hand, I went back into the Monona Terrace and waited in the warmth. 51°F start temps were not my friend. The day weighed on me already…I didn’t really see anyone I knew that morning. I didn’t speak to anyone, I just kept focused. Around 6:20am, I got half my wetsuit on and headed down to the swim start.
This year is the first year in IMWI that they did not have a mass wave start. I did not know how to feel about this considering I never did it before (although I have done a wave start, rolling start, and mass start). There were to be just a few waves, 5 or 6, with the first wave of the day starting at 6:40am (Pro Men) and every subsequent wave 5 minutes after the other. I was in wave two, or as I liked to call it, the test wave. No one really knew how this was going to work with so many people in each wave (~500). I said my goodbyes and got my garmin ready, swim cap on, goggles in place… I looked over the swim start in awe. It was so far. I knew 2.4 miles was going to be long and arduous, but just seeing it laid out was overwhelming. Almost. It was what it was, and I was going to just do it. I was going to make it to the bike.
The canon sounded for the pro men, and they were off. The sunrise was beautiful that morning, no fog or clouds. Bright orange. As soon as they were off, they opened it up for our wave to get in the water. I got in position, far right, closer to the shore instead of the buoys to avoid being run over, and treaded water for a while. Amazingly I felt like we were all in the water for more than 5 minutes. The water did not feel cold. Confidence rose! Canon was set off at 6:45am (making my specific final cutoff time 11:45pm, not midnight). I got into a rhythm right away. I decided to play two games with myself during the swim to make it feel like it was going faster; one, was to count the people who ran into me, two, being to count each 100 yd that passed as my watch buzzed.
Only had a few bumps in the first few hundred yards, was pretty tame, and my watch was buzzing, looking down, I was impressed with my splits! I was pretty happy. Somewhere along the stretch, the wave behind me caught up and I was rustled around a bit more, but not too bad, was still to the outside where there weren’t too many people. I spent some time watching the Monona Terrace pass, thinking about how bored people must be watching people swim what would take most of these people the same amount of time to run a half marathon! I made it past the first red turn buoy and was still pretty happy, pace was good! Still not too many people. But it was somewhere here, when I noticed my watch was not going off any more. I would pause briefly to look down and see if it was still recording or if I’d managed to hit a button by accident and it had stopped. No, it was still going, but I wasn’t stopping long enough to figure out why it wasn’t buzzing. Whatever, the next wave of people had caught up and was more people running over top of me (mainly men). It got a little messy in the back stretch (the longest). The sun was glaring, making it hard to spot the sight buoys, I swear I couldn’t seen any of them most of the time, so I ended up following people instead (never a good idea). I ended up creeping into the more dense line of swimmers close to the sight buoys this way and felt like a trapped fish in a net full of other fish flopping around aimlessly. I swam back outside but this time there were more people. Finally, my watch ended up buzzing and it read 21:01….what? So it literally lost GPS or something the last 21 minutes? That’s never happened before, not even close! The next split didn’t go off until 15 minutes later. This didn’t bother me too much because it was the time I was worried about. I was sad because I wouldn’t have splits for my longest ever swim (and most important one), but I would still finish! THEN, my watch started buzzing every 10-20 seconds! What in the actual world? Was it catching up on the splits it had missed? After a few minutes, I never felt it buzz again.
I rounded the 3rd turn buoy and my heart jumped for joy…I was almost home free! Well, no. This segment ended up being longer than expected. I probably got pretty far out and off target on this stretch, and the turn heading back to shore for whatever reason…this is probably where my time added up since I was pretty sure my 100 splits weren’t that much worse than where my watch stopped caring. I pushed so hard in the last 800m of the swim… I wanted to be done. I never wanted to swim 2.4 miles again in my life. Then there it was, the exit.
I found myself out of the water, legs felt fine. Looked up. Clock reads 2:01:xx, wow that was slow. I was unaware that this time was what I was going to base my bike off of, and that was wrong, I finished in 1:55 (forgetting the pros started five minutes before). Got stripped down by the wetsuit strippers and headed up the Helix to T1. I was running, I was happy to be DONE with the swim. But about half way up, the cold air and COLD COLD concrete hit me like a rock. I froze and had to start walking. Every step became painful and my feet turned numb. I made it into the building at last and it was warm again. I tried running a little more, but it just wasn’t happening. I got my bag and headed into the changing room. I got lots of help! I really wasn’t expecting people to actually to things for me. I gave away my volunteer band here. I was very thankful. I placed a towel around my tri shorts trying to get them more dry. I had a smaller towel for my legs and feet. I wiped them down but I had little to no control over my feet and toes (still frozen). I tried massively to get my socks on, but it wasn’t happening. I had to wait until I thawed out a little. So I ate my fruit cup as planned, and continued to do what I could to get ready for the bike. I finally got myself together and headed out the door with my bike shoes in hand. My feet were still really cold and I tried, again, to run to my bike, but it was just hard on my feet. In the end, I did what was best for them so I could finish the day in one piece. Got my bike and headed out onto the course down the Helix. Transition time was about 19 minutes and some change…that was almost 5 minutes longer than my longest expected time in transition 😦
I chalked up the total time to be starting the bike at 2:20 after my swim start (in my mind, although this was not actually true little to my knowledge). Now, time for 5000 feet of gain on the bike. The VERY first thing I felt when I mounted and biked off were my arms…holy crap I felt like I wouldn’t have the energy to hold myself up! The swim had done a real number on my arms and shoulders. I knew ahead of time the first few miles would be slow, as I was behind people and they were enforcing that people not pass on the bike path out of town. My average speed was really low, about 12 mph at best with the people in front of me. It was frustrating, but I knew it was going to take me about 20 miles to warm up anyway. I convinced myself it was fine, I’d catch up later. The sun was bright and lovely. Winds were light and variable. Not too many people spectating along this portion (the Stick). As predicted, I had a very hard time warming up. My feet were frozen for about 15 miles, and I kept the fleece on for two aid stations (when I had planned to ditch it at the first aid station), even with arm sleeves on underneath. The first few hills were difficult to say the least, I had no momentum and energy was low. I didn’t get discouraged here because I knew before 20 miles hit, I was pretty useless anyway, it has happened on every.single.hard.long.ride. Whalen was terrible, per usually, however it was nice being able to cruise through every stop sign…best day.
Once on the first loop, I made a note on my watch how far it had been since leaving transition and the time. I would check every hour what my average pace was. This kept me very busy mentally. I cruised and paced myself on the lower side on the first loop and stuck with my nutrition plan. I hit the roads outside of Verona and noticed a little wind. Well, wind does seem to find its way into every IMWI race! I sucked it up. On the way up the highway to Mt. Horeb, I ended up getting behind a car. I actually ended up following behind this car for a while (car was afraid to pass the cyclists in front of me heading up the hill!). I just chilled and thought it was funny. I had one of my best rides up to Mt. Horeb. The crowds there were great! I was pumping to the music that was blasting when I could, getting into it and just enjoying the time. I stopped at the aid station to refill my bottles and take a gel. Then I was off. I didn’t like spending as much time as I did at aid stations, but I’m not competent on the bike yet to maneuver around like a pro. Looking back, I would probably just ditch my water bottles and keep replacing them with the ones at the race to save time. Everything was going according to plan, through the Wittie roller coaster (actually did well on this part), up through Garfoot, and then it was onto Observatory. I passed by a barn on the way out, and I thought to myself, “ I’m going to earn that barn and cow.” Temperatures were up in the low 70s, you couldn’t have asked for nicer weather really.
The whole plan from the start was to walk Barlow, the fated new hill on the Wisconsin bike course (replacing stagecoach and two of the three sisters Timber and Old Sauk). As I was on the road, I was asked by a few people “is this Barlow?” and the answer was always no. Finally, got to the steeper portion of what IS Barlow, and spun up as far as I could and dismounted. There was crowd support on both sides, but it wasn’t crowded (I am slow at swimming and biking, so I guess I just wasn’t in the most dense part of the people participating), no one was being stupid taking sideways approaches to the hill. About half the people were trying to power up, and half were with me, just walking on the side. Once I hit my starting line (a small filled in crack in the road I knew well), I mounted and continued to spin up passing all those who were still trying to spin up the big hill. Felt pretty good and evil at the same time. Got to Mineral Point road, and there were there photographers! Ok, at the top of hills, alright then. Legs were a little tired, but continued to spin them out. Being able to cruise through the intersection at the bottom of the big hill on Mineral point was awesome. This is where I noticed more wind on course. Sigh. I pushed pretty hard through this section and up until I came on this random hill where my friend Kat was! This was the first person I recognized in or out of the race since before the start. I was delighted! You picked THIS hill? Pretty cool though! I made my way back to the start of the loop but first…
Midtown. My nemesis. Out of all the sisters on the original bike course, midtown was the one I had the most issues with for whatever reason. So I got off my bike and walked it. No shame, although people tried to push me to bike anyway. Just not worth it to me. I never got up it before, today was not going to be any different. NOTHING NEW ON RACE DAY LOL. I was looking forward to seeing my bike mechanic Richard in a speedo on the way up, but I guess he had left by the time I got there. There were plenty more people there, and I’d say the most densely crowded part of the bike course. I wish I had had more time to enjoy the spectators and take it all in. I had a mission and my focus had returned.
Made my way into Verona through the way of Milky Way by Epic and flew down the nicely paved roads. Smooth like butter. I realized then my little parts down there were suffering a lot…actually no, they plain hurt more so than usual. But I needed to get to downtown Verona where the festival was! So I was happy to make the right turn into the Verona festival area. I was met with slight disappointment. A brief recap, I had volunteered there last year and knew what it was like…they had tents and food and an announcer where they called your name as you went by on your bike, so many people and their lawn chairs just having a good time. What I experienced was about 2/3 of that. There was no announcer for me. There weren’t too many people like there were last year. It looked more empty. I looked around desperately for my family, but I didn’t see them (and apparently didn’t hear them). I left downtown Verona a little sad. My 56 mile split was close to 3 hours 50 minutes. A tad slower than I wanted, but decent, putting me in a good place to beast the 2nd loop and make the cut off. I topped off my now empty camelback with fresh water. I noticed it was very hard to put back on (the slider at the top of the bag)…
Time to start loop two and get to special needs. I was looking forward to my Culver’s beverage and some chamois butter. I thought about my friend Shana, and where she was. I figured she passed me on the swim and I wouldn’t see her again. I arrived at special needs, mile 60 on the bike…this is where everything went to crap on the bike. I couldn’t figure out upon arriving at special needs that my personal bag was WAY down the line near the end (but I couldn’t tell where the end was), so my speed was drastically reduced. Eventually I found my bag and a volunteer brought it to me. I went fast, and took my camelback off and pulled on the slider. I couldn’t get it off. I knew I was weaker now, but I was in a hurry. I put a lot of force into it, so much my wrist bent back far enough to press the “back” button on my garmin…this was VERY BAD. The back button on the garmin during multisport mode will take you to the next sport (Swim, back → T1, back → Bike, back → T2, back → Run, back → end), and there is no way to my knowledge to go back. I fiddled with the watch desperately for I have no idea how long in a panic. I tried everything to make it go back. I finally settled on setting it to “Run” and letting it track that way. Shouldn’t be that different right? I was wrong, and I have no idea why still. I was wasting a lot of time with this at this point. I just got back on my bike and continued on. About a mile or so later, the watched buzzed telling me my “split”, it was 12 minutes. Mine you, I didn’t set the watch to “Run” mode until I was already about to ride. There is no way it took me 12 minutes on a bike to go 1 mile. I was angry at this point and very upset, as the panic laid on thicker. I just gave up. The last time I took mental note of total time was 6 hours and 27 minutes (including swim and transition), mile 60. I was riding, saved the first set of data and started a new multisport “workout”, flipping through Swim and T1, and got it back onto “Bike” mode. Whatever, I will just assume my first loop was slow and now I have a new average to build on. But the pain down below and my sit bones were becoming more apparent and it was hard for me to take the rough roads sitting down. I switched positions on the bike as much as I could, but it was slowing me down and my arms still hurt from the swim. This was awful. I felt awful, although my speeds were better than the first loop, the wind picked up a little making things more frustrating. I was mentally going down. Under this kind of pressure on myself, I do not let myself fail however.
Riding back into Mt. Horeb the 2nd time, I realized my cleat was coming apart (again, as it had in my century ride earlier in training and I couldn’t fix it then). I stopped and put it back together. I was MORE frustrated and this kept building. I still stuck with my plan. I kept doing all this mental math. I had no idea what the total time was, although I had a watch with the actual time, I wanted to know my personal time. I reached mile 80 on the bike, and thought, ok, I will make it given the time. Some time after this I realized the bike was 112 miles not 107 miles…I had forgotten about 5 miles in my calculations and panicked for real. I thought…I’m not going to make the cut off. I kept up my speeds, fought with every hills, “burned all my matches”, I didn’t CARE if at this point I had “legs” to do the run. I just wanted to get to the run. I made it back into Verona, and little to no one was still there. Whatever. But I did see my family this time. This made me happy and sad. I didn’t want to let them down. Or my friends who have passed away…I was racing for them too. I pulled from all these emotions and pressed onward. I asked myself continuously how I was supposed to do a marathon after the bike if I made it. I made it back to the stick…15 miles left…checked the watch time. I thought I was going to miss the cut off time by 8 minutes or so. I knew there were very few hills left, one being Whalen. I tackled it, I ate it for breakfast. I busted out 16 mph, 17.5 mph, 19.1 mph, 20 mph… I was going as fast as I could carry myself back to the capitol. There was one last little incline, and at that point, I realized I had no more matches to burn. I had a lot of trouble getting up the hill. I had nothing left for hills. I wanted to cry. I was so close. I reached the Alliant building parking lot and got stuck behind some people on the bike path. Once off the bike path, I pushed as hard as I could still, 19 mph… Mind you my average speed on the first loop was a little over 14 mph to give you and idea of how panicked I was.
I went up the Helix again, thinking about all those who said “it’s not that bad, it’s not that steep”…it was still hard on me. I ran into T2, asking so many people if I had made it. The volunteers said I was fine and didn’t know why I was so worried. I was crying. I still wasn’t convinced I had made it. I was emotional because I knew the one thing that would stop me from finishing would be the bike if there was something to stop me…the cut off. The cut off was 5:35pm, or somewhere in there. I made it in at 4:45pm. I couldn’t really gather myself in T2. I came out of changing walking. I saw my family standing right there outside the door. I heard them say “it will be ok”. I had my fruit cup in my hand, and began to run…holding back more tears. I felt like a failure. Afterwards I found out my bike was 7:45 total time, average of 14.4 mph…which was around my target goal.
I went up and around the capitol, and my first mile was pretty fast…or maybe it wasn’t. I found out afterwards, my watch GPS was funky and didn’t get the right splits for my run. I stopped at the first aid stations, still wallowing in myself. I took some orange slices and coke. Screw my nutrition plan.
I slogged around in my shoes, reaching the 2.7 mile mark or thereabouts and my right foot started going numb. This stupid condition, whatever it is, is completely random and always happens about 3 miles into runs, no matter WHAT kind of run it is…uphill/downhill, flat, fast, slow, recovery, intervals, marathon, 5k…blah. I kept stopping to relieve pressure every 0.2 miles. This stopped at 4.5 miles. Then I started feeling ok. Took an annoying potty break (which I had to wait in line for). And then the game changed.
Mile 5-6, ok, I can run up these hills and nothing bad is happening. I told myself I would just run until I burned out and then do walk-run intervals thereafter. But I wasn’t burning out. I kept taking fruit from aid stations (just grapes and oranges, the safe fruits…I could have a bad reaction to bananas), and coke, every other aid station, and water almost every aid station. I took a few gels throughout the run course, but I probably didn’t take more than 4 the whole marathon…last time I did this, it was in my 50k, and it was hard anyway and things turned out ok then. I got to Observatory (downtown Observatory, not the bike course road), the big “hill” of the run course. I went straight up, no issues, and it was empowering. Oh the strange looks I got every time I kept running up a “hill”. Overall, in retrospect, the course felt fairly flat to me with the exception of Observatory, and only part of that. This was my only “reach” goal for Ironman that I kept to myself mostly. I secretly wanted to do ok on the run, but none of my other half ironman races have I had a decent run where I could keep going, so I didn’t have much hope. I reached mile 8 and 9…still going. It was getting darker and darker. I absolutely LOVE running at night, especially in the city!! Such hype. I passed by several people I knew now, most heading towards the 2nd loop or on the second run loop.
State street was full of drunk college students that were somehow focus and hype on calling out our names on the run, it was interesting to say the least. I made it back up to the turn around, and just wondered again and again “how am I still able to run”, when is the bonk, where is the wall? I always felt I would have to walk because I couldn’t go any further. My watch was saying I was keeping a good pace, but my watch also kept saying that I was getting further and further ahead of the mile markers. When I was at the turn around, I was already 0.6 miles ahead of the mile markers, which at least were every mile, where on the bike course, I’m pretty sure I hardly saw any at all. Regardless, I was unaware at the time if my watch was correct or not, and plus my pace was pretty consistent. At the capitol square, I saw Kat yelling, and my coach was there, my family…didn’t seem them lol. I just missed them each of every first loop of the courses for whatever reason. I went around the turn around and into special needs for the run. I was not asked if I needed it, or yelled at with my number…I wasn’t concerned because I didn’t need anything from it, but it was a bit disappointing. Moving along, my motto after every aid station I walked through (eating the fruit and drinking water) I would tell myself “now back to my regularity scheduled beasting…”. I was ecstatic working my way through the course. I made my way back onto the lake shore path, now covered in completely darkness, no light to be found (which slowed me down a little in pace). I was running along when a random participant started running with me with his flashlight. About 45 seconds later he speaks to me saying, “I thought I would at least run with you until you reach the next lamp post!” So we ran for about 2 minutes, getting close to the light and then he says to me, “Ah you are going so fast I can’t keep up but good luck! The light is pretty close now” and laughs. I appreciate him! Another random stranger I found was when I arrived back at Observatory. She was walking, and we talked a little, and I encouraged her to start running again (another marathon runner! Like me!), we ran together through some of the down hill portion of Observatory, and she wished me luck and I went on my way. It looked like this run was going to be done alone, unlike the last few of my races where I find random people and we work together to finish the run off. I was ok with that. I didn’t even miss the music I usually like to run with. There were a lot of random people on course who had music blasting.
Around mile 22, I felt tired at last. I yawned, and was fighting sleepiness actually. I encountered a few guys throwing up, but ran into a man who was violently throwing up. I informed the next aid station. I was thankful I felt great. I was feeling so much better than at the end of any other marathon and started to try and push harder. I knew I was about 2 miles away, and knew I had about 20 minutes or less of running left in this extensive race. I was excited, I was going to finish! I sped up, legs hurt, but it was ok.
I came up State street for the final time. I really never noticed the hills, and still really didn’t. There were so many people, and I was excited. A 5:12 marathon is wonderful! I crushed that compared to any other thing I did that day or in training. I couldn’t be more proud of that alone. Where did that all come from? I’ll have no idea.
Two corners from the finish, I was starting to choke up really bad, started struggling to breath even. I was holding a lot back. I didn’t even think about posing for the finisher pic, I just wanted that finisher chute. I cruised down holding back even more, and you could see it all over my face. I saw my family and friends! 15:23:37 was my final time. I had just run the marathon (albeit the aid stations).
I didn’t even heard Mike Reilly call my name I was so emotional. I had worked and fought so hard for this moment, and realized the whole moment was everything that day. I passed through and was greeted by a friendly face of the catcher Lisa who I knew. I was thankful I knew those behind the finish. I got my barn and cow medal! I spoke with my coach briefly, and got my picture taken. I felt fine, just like after a regular marathon. I finally got my shiny metal jacket (so pro!)…I dunno, I always wanted to finish a hard race and have an insulated sheet put over me. I immediately saw my friends Ben and Sean who I thought wouldn’t be back that weekend, and it made me so happy to see them waving back at me! I saw my mom and husband and sister, I saw my friend Kat too! I was surrounded by love.
It was the most celebrated race finish I’ve ever had. It made it all seem like it was worthwhile. My stomach turned into a hot mess, seeming very angry (although it amounted to nothing), and all I wanted to do was sit down and not be standing. So I left the race early (I really wanted to stay) to take care of myself.
To answer some questions some people have asked…
Are you going to sign up again? No, I would like to volunteer again next year and act all crazy now I know where to go and what to see better. If I ever sign up again, I want to make sure I can obtain a sub 1:40 swim because I’m not spending my PR on a half marathon in the water again. I want to make sure I have more experience on the bike to have the confidence that I will have no issue making the cut off when the time comes. Get stronger, get better!
Are you going to get a tattoo? Probably not seeing a lot of people would dislike me if I did so. Besides, Ironman is a brand and I do not like the idea of being branded when there is uncertainty that it will last forever unlike a tattoo. There’s a lot of mixed feelings about it.
What’s next? Well I have still have Xterra Worlds in about 1.5 months. Time to get stronger on the bike…right after this recovery period!
I would probably do IMWI again if I decided to do one again unless they decide to create one in the Appalachian mountains 😉 But for now, I move onward. I am an Ironman.
Swim: Coeur Sports Bra, Wattie Ink. Tri shorts, Blue Seventy Helix Wetsuit
Bike: Zoot Wisconsin Tri Top, Inknburn Robot arm sleeves, Compression socks, Specialized carbon bike shoes, LG Helmet
Run: Altra Escalante shoes, Inknburn 6” shorts and singlet
Watch: Garmin 935 (fail..which it didn’t the past few races, but there was an update on Saturday, maybe that had something to do with it?)