Fun amongst the corn and the dark teatime of the soul

Ironman Wisconsin, September 8, 2024

All my Ironmans have been special.  The first for, well, being my first and for the double challenges of being fired and breaking an elbow within weeks of the race.  The second for being my first on Scarlett the tribike (and, ahem, learning the lesson not to get too carried away on the bike leg!).  My third for executing the perfect plan and for the mechanical that resulted in Scarlett finishing the bike leg as a single-speed!  The fourth--my most fun--because I signed up in secret and had no goals except to finish.  Oh, and for being my personal best time at sub-13.

For more about the days leading up to the race, read me!
 

This Ironman was special for what I've been through this year.  To even get to the start line is a christmas miracle.  I focused on building the bike fitness because it's my strength, the longest leg, and because of the reduced chances of injury.  Two build cycles and I peaked at an 18 mile "run" and 100 mile bike.  Occasionally I had moments of wishing things were different, that I'd managed to train as I'd planned, that I was farther ahead, that I didn't have anxieties about the race.  But in the end, I knew I had to dance with the training that brought me.  And I'd remind myself of my nudge phrase for the year - "Don't beat yourself up."  In the positive column I also knew that I have experience going for me and I'm very very very good at planning and executing.  Oh, and I love hills.  

Did I mention that IMMOO is hilly?

The elevation profile really shows re.lent.less hills.

As with my other two hilly Ironmans (IMLP, IMMT), Wisconsin has its own character.  These hills simply never end.  Even the tempo riding sections have hills.  Even the downhills are uphill.  And one of the 'three bitches' hills has a hill on top of it.  Hills hills hills.  So it means many opportunities to practice climbing in Z2 (one of my superpowers).  And time for the cute guy dressed as a firefighter to run beside me telling me "You're fit.  You're strong.  You're crushing this."  That made me tear up.  

But I get ahead of myself.  

The emotion that was always lurking just below the surface recently started in the minutes after the starting cannon was fired while I waited with a few thousand of my fellow racers to get in the water.  I'd gotten my goggles "set" in the water a few mins before so my tears steamed them up again.  A couple of nearby racers and I started chatting.  I told them--one from Canada and one from Singapore--a little of my story and that I was feeling quite emotional and they both gave me a big hug.  I love the camaraderie of Ironman.

Then it was in the water!  I'd not swum over 2 miles in training and definitely hadn't arrived at the nice consistent zen pacing that would have come with more training.  But I was pleased that I didn't immediately panic and settled into stroking nicely.  The sun was rising over Lake Monona and on the outward bound leg, I could see the capitol dome, where I'd finish many hours later.  That was such a nice thought.  

On the return leg, I could hear the crowds too!  It really is a fabulous swim location.  The first loop was 42 mins - far faster than I'd expected.  I knew I wouldn't maintain that, but I was super pleased.  Although I slowed a bit on the second loop, I didn't fall apart and in the end, I really enjoyed the swim!

Swim: 1:28:43, 12/28 age group starters.  All form, no strength, some stamina. I'll take it!

After a loooooooooong walk up the helix and through a kinda confusing T1, it's on to the bike.  

Giddy happiness flying down the helix

I love how prominently the Capitol building features in this race

The bike is my strength.  Not my fastest leg of the three - much to my annoyance, that's turned out to be the swim.  The strength of the bike leg comes first and foremost comes from my love of it.  I'm not fast, but I am good at climbing well within myself, descending, pacing, and fueling.   And there's lots of climbing and descending so it really played to my strengths.  Plus, I like scenery, and IMMOO has it in spades.

I have no doubt that midwesterners are completely over all the corn by late summer, but I couldn't get enough of it.  As we crested hills, the fields were spread out below us, filled with corn, barns, corn, trees, a flax that reminded me of toe toe in NZ, and more corn.  Eventually, we settled into a small group of half a dozen or so cyclists and played leapfrog with each other.  I'd cheer on the guy who'd pass me on the hills, then cheerfully call out on your left as we headed downhill again.  Aside from the fast boys and girls who passed me on their second lap, nobody ever passed me on a descent, which pleased me no end and there was one particular guy who took miles to catch me up after I passed him on the most technical descent.  Maybe I took a couple of extra risks to really spank him.  Maybe.  

Corn!!!

There are the three 'bitches' on the IMMOO bike courses.  Truth to tell, I was sure where two of them were, but I'm not sure what the third one is, or if perhaps it's the second kicker on top of one of the bitches?  The locals were out on the steepest of the hills all day long, blasting music, waving funny signs and reminding us that we'd chosen to do this.  That we'd paid to do this.  That we love climbing.   I absolutely loved them!

It was fab to see the team out on the course.  It really gave me something to look forward to.  

Joy passing the team cheer station!

And I got loads of opportunities to practice both grabbing water bottles at the aid stations and tossing them into target garbage cans.  It took until the very last aid station for me to hit a target, but that was thanks to the target being two kiddie pools taped together, one vertical as a backboard.  I cheered very loudly when I made that score.  That was also the aid station where the volunteers had clearly decided we needed the tops completely removed from the water bottles vs flipped open, so when I grabbed it at speed, it exploded all over me.  I laughed so hard after I got over the shock, and it saved me pouring the cold water on myself.

I can safely say that I loved every single minute of that bike course.  I felt strong and full of energy and focused on really embracing everything around me, from the scenery to my fellow competitors to my teammates.  I'm so damned lucky to have been able to be out there.

I'd predicted an 8hr bike leg, and ...

Bike: 8:00:56, 18/28 (or however many finished the bike leg).  Boom.

Then the wheels fell off.  But I was expecting that.  The run.  

I'm not a terrible Ironman marathoner in terms of strategy and execution, but without the training, I suffered both physically and mentally.  I just wasn't able to keep the run/walk strategy going for as long as I'd have liked.  But what a fabulous course!  Loads of people out and about.  A couple of hills to keep things interesting, pretty views of the lake, and a super fun stretch through downtown.  

The part of the course that most surprised me was how much fun it was to run through the University of Wisconsin Badgers' stadium.  I ran through the first time with my friend Alison which was special in and of it's own right.  It was my first time in an American football stadium and it felt so special to be allowed to run around the field.  It's clearly a place of worship.  I wonder how many racers dashed to lay down in the center of the field to soak up a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?

Go Badgers!

If you cut the legs off my photos, sometimes I actually look like I'm running!

Somewhere around mile 20, the course got very dark and very lonely.  The mile markers bore very little resemblance to what my--or anyone else's--watch was telling us.  The course is deliciously convoluted so I had no idea where I was in relationship to the finish line, which I let demoralize me.  

To get through the dark teatime of the soul, I spent a couple of the darkest, loneliest miles listing out loud everything that I'm grateful for this year.  For being able to race.  For not having cancer.  For the medical care I received.  For the medical care my dad is receiving.  For having the opportunity to travel home to spend time with my parents after the race.  For the team.  For Ed.  For Mark's support.  

Nothing quite like an emotional slap upside the head to reset my attitude.  

Towards the end of the darkness, I met up with Abby, a fabulous woman doing her first Ironman (I LOVE people's firsts!) who was just truckin' 22ish miles in.  Sticking with her run/walk strategy and no slouch on either.  I stayed with her for a while and really enjoyed our conversation.  I wish we'd met up earlier, but I let her finish on her own, because I was on a mission of my own.

There were many moments during the weekend and in the middle of the race when I teared up.  I knew that passing the team tent with a mile to go would be one of those.  I also wanted to ditch a couple of things I didn't want in my finish line photo (ah, vanity!).  As I ran towards the team, I couldn't decide who to hug, so I called for a group hug.  They came through big time.  I felt such love and support for this nutso thing I was doing.

The last mile was magical.  Turning the corner and seeing the beautiful alabaster white capitol building lit up in the perfect dark night took my breath away.  I was lucky enough to find myself in a position where I'd be running down the finishing chute solo.  I took all the advantage that I could.  I really wanted to interact with the crowd.  I knew I was finishing in the 11-midnight hour, the magic hour, the most emotional hour, the hour I'd tried to sell to my teammates as worth their effort to be there.   The energy and love that poured from the crowd absolutely lifted me.  

At some point, as I was soaking in the excitement, it hit me that I'd done it.  That I'd trained for two months and completed an Ironman.  That I'd been sliced open and stitched back up a few months before, seven organs lighter.  That the day had gone so well.  That I'd enjoyed myself so much.  All that emotion came out in a completely spontaneous wackadoodle monkey dance that evidently was so wackadoodle that it made not one but two official recap videos! I put my hands over my face screaming with joy and emotion.  

Short version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mwXja6qfvt4

Long version: https://www.facebook.com/IRONMANWisconsin/videos/841487821440513/ (about min 9.  It's the same clip of me, but for those of you who aren't familiar with Ironman, I think it captures the magic and the challenge beautifully.  Plus, there're some fun characters!)

While I don't love the look on my face, I love that this photo captures the
Team Z green reaching out for me.  It's very indicative of the support of this amazing team.

THIS one says it all.

I crossed the finish line, blind as a bat (my diy sports glasses were one of the things I ditched), but I knew that my teammate Kathie was volunteering as a catcher, so I ran into the arms that were open in front of me, trusting that they were hers.  I balled my eyes out.  Then I balled some more when I hugged my (even more bonkers) teammate Jason who'd completed BOTH races that weekend with the same training time.  

I'd been gunning for my PW (personal worst), and I managed it by over an hour!

Run: 6:26:37, 18/22

Final time: 16:18:35, 18/22 age group finishers.

As I always have at Ironman, I spent the time after finishing cheering on the finishers.  A couple of teammates finished which h was fun to watch, and I got to see a super gutsy 78yr old stagger his way down the finishing chute, absolutely determined to run unaided.  So much emotion!  More tears.  

Back on the hotel shuttle, shower, bed around 2am.  

Phew.  What an adventure.

[I'm writing this nearly two months after the race, after a month-long visit to NZ that I left on only four days after arriving home, so I'm sure I've forgotten a lot.  Forgive me if I left you out of my story!]