IronMad

It should've been Josh's day.

For an entire year we've looked forward to this. For an entire year I've watched him spend countless hours training, giving up his mornings, evenings, and weekends to swim, bike, or run. For an entire year he has read numerous books by experts in endurance racing. And to prepare for an IronMan properly, you really do need that entire year... how else could you ever prepare to complete a 2.1 mile swim, 112 mile bike ride, and a 26.2 mile run (all in a row!) under 17 hours??

Look closely... swimmers in the distance

On the spectating end, my sisters and I hit the road before six to make the trip over to Louisville and see the start. I had been fighting off strep throat and even that could not keep me away from being out there all day to cheer on my favorite guy, as well as a few others we knew participating. We were wearing matching t-shirts that we designed for this special day and had a car full of snacks and signs to encourage the athletes. We arrived, parked, and got there in time to see the competitors jump off the docks and into the Ohio River and watched as they swam downstream, like tiny little buoys all in a line. And then we walked over to the first transition area and celebrated with the masses as they came out of the water, sometimes one-by-one and at times in droves, some smiling and cheering, others not looking so happy to be there. And then up and out came Josh, looking like a ball of energy, an ear-to-ear grin plastered on his face... as if the 2-mile swim had been a walk in the park.

Us girls piled back in the car and headed east to Oldham County High School, which ended up being such a great place to watch the bikers zoom by! We found a shady driveway and set up camp right across the street from a water/nutrition station, which would allow us to see them come by at around mile 35 and 65. Bikers typically slow down to pick up what they need from the volunteers at these stations, so it made it a little easier to spot our athletes from down the road. We knew approximately what time to expect them all, so as those times drew near we'd really focus and pay attention to who was riding by, trying to remember what color their bikes, helmets, and shirts were. It may sound crazy, but it was seriously mentally draining to search for the four riders we knew amongs the thousands out there! Three out of four of them passed us on loop one looking strong. In fact, Josh was enjoying his day so much that he even stopped and chatted with us for a few minutes, letting us know that he was feeling strong and pacing himself before zooming off again. Our fourth rider, already a two-time IronMan, was not feeling like he could go the full distance this time around and decided to stop and spectate with us for the rest of the day instead of making himself miserable (and potentially sick) to see how far he could get. I think it takes a lot of guts to make that decision and we are all proud of him for being humble enough to listen to his body. We had a view of a medic tent not too far from us and we saw many that apparently did not do this and ended up with IV's in their arms after overheating and dehydrating. The event is gruelling to say the least, and the 90+ degree heat did not help.

After a couple of hours (yes hours!) we estimated that it was time to see our three riders again. The first came by as expected, then the second, and I knew that Josh should be about twenty minutes behind him. So we waited and watched... and waited and watched... and waited... and waited.  I had my sister check her phone to see if any new times at check-points had been posted but she had nothing to offer. I tried not to get nervous as another twenty, then thirty, then forty minutes passed. At one point the entire group even swore we saw him come up the road, pull over, get off his bike, and our guess was that he was using the port-a-potty. Then two of us were pretty sure we saw him walking around without his helmet on... near the medic tent. I ran over there to check on "him" and this mysterious look-a-like was nowhere to be found! Feeling even more nervous by then, I joined the rest of the group and was relieved when they started pointing at someone coming down the road. I turned around and to my relief he was coming up the road, flashing a number two with his fingers. He pulled over just to quickly tell us that he had already changed two flats due to tacks in the road.  Apparently (according to the stories he heard as he changed his tires) some locals did not like that they closed the roads for the day and came by throwing tacks to pop the tires of the bikers- and Josh fell victim twice in 100 yards. If you've ever done any kind of distance race or changed a bike tube for that matter (which is a challenge in itself), you know that mentally this could completely derail you. I was pretty impressed to see that even though he was clearly frustrated, he was still in pretty good spirits and determined to push through. We watched him ride away and were all completely stunned by what had happened- who would ever do something like that? Actually, who would ever even come up with something like that? I didn't know whether I was outraged, sad, mad, or disgusted, but my heart hurt for Josh. More than that, I was so proud that he had kept going. Feeling a little deflated ourselves (and being tired and hot didn't help), we packed up the car and headed back down to the river for the next transition.

After a sandwich and a bathroom break at Subway, the group perked up again and we all headed back out to start watching for our racers come in on their bikes. Friends of ours from Lexington had called to say that they were there and I left the others and went to meet up with them for a few, telling them about the day so far, talking about how awesome the whole event was, and cheering on the bikers that we didn't know as they came by. And then my phone rang and a Louisville number showed up on my screen. I don't think I expected it to be Josh, but that's who I heard on the other end, telling me that he was out of the race after snapping a shifter cable, probably due to it weakening during the multiple tire changes. I seriously could not believe it- still can't two days later- and tried to hold it together, letting him know that I was proud of him and would be waiting for him at the transition area while he caught a shuttle back. I then spent the next twenty minutes calling all of our friends from Lexington who had been planning to come down for the finish as well as the families watching our children, letting them know the news. We saw our other two racers come through and I mustered up a little bit of enthusiasm as they passed by. Then we just sat and waited.

It was almost another hour before Josh met up with us again, and once he was with us we got more of the story. He said that in about a 50 yard stretch, there were about 25 bikers changing flats. The tacks were not just tiny thumb-tacks, but large enough to also take out three sherriff cars and an ambulance, which had someone in it. When his blew the second time, the man next to him had his blow at the same time, lost control, ran off the road, flipped and broke his collar bone... so I consider us lucky. Josh rode back in a shuttle full of mostly dehyrdrated athletes on IV's, and one other victim of bike issues, but he was out after his fourth flat tire due to the tacks! It was just unlucky.

I have to hand it to Josh... he was clearly disappointed and even admitted to throwing himself a little pity party before coming back and joining the group, but he wanted to walk over to the finish with us, grab some dinner, and hang out a little before heading back. He told us stories from his day and even said that the Louisville police officers were fantastic, offering up apologies and telling him that they hoped this did not reflect on the entire city's attitude toward the triathletes and really hoped he'd come participate again next year. Something tells me the cops are a little more interested in who did this now that many of their own were affected as well! We didn't stay to see our other two guys finish since we had two little ones to get home to, but we did receive a text message around 11pm that they were both now IronMen!

So our day didn't go quite the way we had planned, but that really is the beauty of this race. Whether it's a story of triumph, defeat, or in our case, disappointment due to circumstances out of our control, the course and the race takes on a life of its own. Every athlete at the end of the day has a story to tell, and all are distinctly different. We saw some finishers walking around downtown smiling proudly with their medals around their necks and others being held up by friends, barely able to walk. We watched a woman sob on the neck of a volunteer after she crossed the line, a man jump across wearing a superman cape,and others who practically collapsed after finishing. I knew going in that it would be an emotional day, but had no idea it would translate into what it did, but that's our unique story this time around. There will be another one down the road whether it's in a month or a year, and my husband will earn that medal that will hang around his neck. But to me, he's already an IronMan, and I could not be more proud.

And not that any of the tack-throwers are reading this, but I just want to clarify something. A triathlete, or any endurance athlete for that matter, and especially those tackling a challenge this big, are a special kind of people. Sure we spend thousands of dollars and give up sleep and time with family to have the right equipment, travel to events, and train properly, but that's only a tiny part of it for us. What you don't understand is that there is a really special spirit of victory that lives within us- one that won't give up no matter what the odds, one that keeps fighting after we're knocked down. Yes, you ruined our race this time around, but it won't stop us from getting back out there and trying again. It's an unfair thing that happened, but even more upsetting is how dangerous something like this is- those tacks nearly killed at least one man, and it's not just a harmless prank at that point. I honestly just feel sorry for whoever would do this as they obviously do not understand the potential danger that they cause and hope that the race officials can figure out a way to deter this behavior in the future. But at the end of the day, we're fighters and we bounce back. If anything, you've just fanned the fire of a future IronMan, and his day will be even sweeter when it comes.

For Josh's take on the race, you can check out his blog post here and for more information about the IronMan Louisville incidents, it's showing up on several message boards if you just do a Google search, and keep in mind that all kinds of crazy opinions are posted on a message board!

Holy Hills, Batman!

It's official... I am back in the game when it comes to running!  Yep, yours truly has re-entered the world of road racing, and boy does it feel good!  Aside from the Race for the Cure last October, I have not participated in any sort of race since I was pregnant with Jake in 2009.  I ran occasionally after he was born, and then was pregnant again before I knew it.  After Lilly came along, I took my time getting back into it and then kicked it into high gear over the past ten weeks, ramping up my weekly mileage and starting to feel like me again.  When I heard that the Lexington Half Marathon had a four-person relay team option, I thought it might be the perfect way to get my feet wet again.  

There are very few things that I love more in this life than a good race day.  And knowing that the course was through Keeneland (a horse racing track surrounded by gorgeous horse farms and gardens), I knew it would be a beautiful place to run.  But race days are more than that for me.  Some people dislike having to bob and weave their way around runners of different paces, but I had forgotten how much I love that.  It's like a little game to me, and it gives me something to focus on other than the run.  And oh the energy!  There is such an excitement at any race that it's almost palpable and this one was no different.  Whether it's your first race or your 100th, those butterflies and jitters are still there.  But more than anything, my favorite part of any race day is the comradery between all of the participants and the spectators.  Since I was part of a relay team, I had to wait at a checkpoint for about 35 minutes until my partner finished the first leg and handed off our timing wristband.  But while a group of about 40 of us stood there, we got to watch as the first guy zoomed by, literally sprinting.  We all cheered and clapped, proud of this total stranger.  Then two more came by and we shouted words of encouragement.  Maybe the biggest applause came when about the sixth man ran by- get this- pushing a DOUBLE jogging stroller!  Wow.  You are my hero, dude.  And then of course we got to see the first women come by and that set us all off into a frenzy again.  We continued to clap and cheer as the crowd thickened and then I screamed my brains out when I spotted Josh.  That would be him in the pink sleeves.  Because as you know, real men do wear pink.

 

I spent the next few minutes looking for my relay partner and somehow spotted her before I did.  Yeah, we all wore light blue tee-shirts, which did not stand out in a crowd at all.  Something to remedy next year.  I grabbed the wristband and off I went, filled to the brim with bound up energy.  And even though I knew the course was supposed to be hilly, I think I underestimated what that actually meant.  Holy hills, Batman!  This course is... in a word... insane.  When I would get to the top of one hiull, I could see three more ahead of me, laid out like a roller coaster.  The uphills are slow, steady, and brutal.  The downhills are wonderful and frequent, but quickly followed by another trek upward.  I ran my first two miles much too quickly, averaging a 9:10 pace.  By the third mile, I was walking the uphills and running the downhills and flats.  And when I finally handed off the wristband to my sister, Angie, I was pretty sure I was done.  Josh was at the leg 3 checkpoint waiting on me, having had run legs 1 and 2.  One of his relay partners was there, too, so the three of us chatted about our runs and complained about the hills for a few minutes.  Both of us had wanted to use this run as our long training run for the week (he's training for the Nashville full this month and I'm training for the Flying Pig Half in May) so after about ten minutes, we decided to set out, at least to the next checkpoint.  I had heard that my leg was supposed to have been the hilliest, but leg three was no better.  Up and down we went, and one hill in particular went up for what seemed like forever.  Josh and I haven't run together since before Jake was born and we had a blast being out there again.  He high fived everyone on the course, we blasted music from my iPhone, and at the checkpoint for leg 4, we decided to just go to the entire way.  Why the heck not.

This race was perfect for training in a lot of ways.  I'm sure you all have heard of "hitting the wall" in a long run.  Well, I had forgotten what that was like.  And while I didn't go all the way to that dark place on this run, I did stand on the brink of it.  I had the moments where my brain started going from "you can do anything" to "you're never going to finish this."  I'm not entirely sure how, but I shut it off, zeroed in on the finish, and just kept going.  I'm glad I got a taste of that again, just to be reminded of how quickly that mentality can creep up on you.  But even more so, I'm glad that I could shut it off this time at least and finish strong.

Which reminds me what else I love about race day: crossing the finish line.  There is seriously nothing like it in the world.  Running down a chute of people cheering for you, well, is exhilarating to say the least and it felt good to be a runner instead of a spectator again.  And getting a medal doesn't hurt either.  I am a sucker for good bling.

In the end, I ran about nine and a half miles and Josh ran the full distance, but this was just what I needed to gain my confidence back.  I now know that I will be able to finish the full distance in May, even though it probably won't be in record time, which is fine by me.  Over these next few weeks I just need to work on pacing myself, not starting out too fast, and finding a sustainable speed for myself.

If you are looking for a beautiful half marathon to run, this is probably it.  We passed mansions, vineyards, horse-filled pastures, and barns that probably cost more than any house I will ever live in.  If you want a challenging course with plenty of elevation, this would be perfect.  But if you're just looking for a run run with your friends, I'd steer clear or recommend the relay option.  The course is a true loop with no real way to get to the middle without driving on the course, so there isn't much by way of spectators or entertainment.  The water stops were frequent enough, which I appreciated, but aside from the scenery, it's just you, the other runners, and the open road.  I did appreciate the three little girls that sat out on a fence rail and cheered everyone on around mile 10.  They had made signs for their parents obviously, and then another one that just said, "Go Moms!  Go Dads!"  I had to smile at that one.  Oh yeah, another thing I love about a good race day are the little things like that.  And it feels so good to be a part of it again.