12 seconds
The problem with a flat course is that it's too easy to go hard. I really enjoyed letting Scarlett run, but I had grossly miscalculated how fast I'd go. I thought I'd go about 15 mph - the same as I'd gone for the 120. My dream time would be 16 mph - which would put me in at around 7 hrs. Instead, my average was 16.7. And it would have been faster if the hair tie and safety pin that I use to hold my bottles to the cage hadn't broken and wrapped around my rear derailleur. It took at least 3 minutes to figure out how to extract the hair tie. During this time, Mark passed me on the bike - right when I was hoping for one of the SAGS to turn up. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that the person saying "do you need anything" was my personal mechanic and I responded in the negative. He'll tell you that I snapped at him but I swear I didn't know it was him or that I snapped. Truly I was just concentrating so hard on the Rubik's cube puzzle in front of me. Sorry, love!I finally extracted the hair tie with no lasting damage, but the stopped time cost me a couple of a tenths of a mile on average. Between mile 70-90, I was really suffering - my poor legs have never worked so hard or gone so fast! And there was a headwind. But then, somewhere around the top of the causeway, with about 6 miles to go, I realized I might be able to break 6:45 on the bike. Nevermind that I'd had the mechanical. The final time is what counted - not some empty moral victory! Besides - I really wanted this bike to be over.
So I picked up the pace, only to realize that I might even be able to break 6:40. What's important about these times? NOTHING! Abso-freakin'-lutely nothing. I started hammering. I passed a teammate three times and he passed me back twice. The last 4 miles of the causeway are pretty rough. Lots of extremely uncomfortable cracks and bumps in the road and no way around. I borrowed from my hero Jens Voigt and started yelling at myself - "Shut up legs! Shut up lungs! Shut up heart! Shut up crotch!" I swung very wide into the park, nearly taking out some cones in my way, and kept pushing until about a foot in front of the dismount line. But the effort was for naught. My final time was 6:40:12.
No disappointment though. I came into this race with no expectations except to have fun and I sure did! The time trial of the last few miles was an incredible rush and really showed me what Scarlett and I can do. Fiddle dee dee!
17 seconds
So I missed another milestone time. I thought I'd broken 14:15 for the full race, but it turns out that the chip time was different to what the clock was showing. My final time is 14:15:17. I'm stoked by that. It's nearly a 55 minute PR. But that's not what I think of when I see that time. I think about how I spent those 17 seconds.
I paid for the smoking bike almost immediately on the run. I took off slowly when usually I take off too fast. I faced the 2 mile long, exposed, hot causeway with dread. My fuel belt pressed against sore core muscles. I'd planned a 10/1 run/walk but that fell apart within the first two miles. I started walking thinking I'd walk the whole marathon. Around mile 3, I thought about friends' stories of resting and recovering, about how Mark had called me "adaptable" the previous night, about how I'd like this race report to read. So I adjusted my watch to 5/1 and started mostly sticking to it. But I was feeling verrrrrrry sorry for myself. I knew this marathon was going to hurt, but I hadn't anticipated it hurting so much, so soon. Aside from slow running, there were a few interruptions that ate up more than those 17 seconds.
Delay #1: It was great seeing all the Zers out there, but when I saw Misha, I knew what I needed. He was coming in to crush his half Ironman time, but he took precious time to give me a huge hug. A 'recovery' hug, though when we started leaning against each other in exhaustion, I realized I'd lose the weight battle pretty quickly and I still had about 20 miles to go! The hug worked wonders and I took off with a lighter heart, knowing he'd achieve his goals and that I could also.
Delay #2: The run course took in four parallel streets through downtown Sandusky. On two of those streets, the course took us up one side and down the other. Six times through town. I could hear the Team Z horns. But they weren't at the pub where I expected them on the second traverse. Nor on the third street. Finally, on the fourth street, there they were on a corner, a rag tag crew in green and clown, with horns and cowbells, and a boom box. I saw Alexis and started aiming towards him. Poor guy, he was trying to tell me something, but all I could say was "I need a hug." He not only hugged stinky sweaty me, but he still managed to tell me that the music coming from the boom box was "my" song - the theme from Indiana Jones. He'd made a playlist for each of us. The laughter he gave me (pictured here and the moment I realized what he was telling me), along with the hug, was priceless and better than the best caffeine-laced gel. 
Delay #3: Aside from the accidental meeting that I hadn't realized had happened, and passing each other on opposite sides of the road a few miles later, I hadn't seen Mark since the beginning of the swim. So when we saw each other on the causeway - him heading out on his second loop, me heading back in from my first - we stopped and had a good natter about our day. A quick kiss and we were both back on our way, happier for having seen each other.Delay #4: I'll get to Patti's story at a later date, but there were a few seconds lost to a hug and later walking alongside, trying to get her to walk a bit faster. Patti and I have become training buddies via nearly daily check in texts. To see her walking back in on her first loop as I was running towards the finish line was heartbreaking. I knew she wouldn't make the midnight cutoff time at the pace she was going. But her spirit was strong and I knew that the next time I saw her, it'd be when she crossed whatever finish line remained.
Delay #5: Everyone else. All the high fives, the quick hugs, the "Go Z!s." Holy cow there are a lot of you!
If I add up all these delays, they total far more than 17 seconds. But each and every one of them was like a shot in the arm, and are little nuggets of memories that make this race special in a way IMLP wasn't. At IMLP, I stuck to my marathon plan religiously. I never got so low I needed a hug. Never stopped except at aid stations. This time around, I needed contact, specific encouragement, energy - and when I needed individual people, I saw them and they delivered.
The story of my race is such a teeny tiny part of the story of this weekend. I'll write again to talk about the incredible Revolution3, the tough Patti finishing after 2am and the team that never quit.
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