My Florida 70.3 Race Report -- Not Half Bad
My family and I are back from Orlando, and I'm excited to post my race report. So let's cut to the chase, shall we?
Let's start from the end...I FINISHED THE FLORIDA HALF IRONMAN. Mission accomplished, yahoo!
Thanks, everyone, for your support. You help carries me throughout it all, and I am happy to share this success with you.
Ok, rewind back to the beginning of the trip. Though my family and I arrived in Orlando on Wednesday, the official weekend didn't start until Friday. Throughout the week, there were signs along the road that informed drivers that an Ironman race would take place Sunday, May 18th, and to prepare for traffic delays. Hey, they'd be waiting for me, I thought. I wanted to get a picture of one of these signs, but I never did.
I made sure to run a few miles, and to do a self-led shakedown ride for my bike (which thankfully made it in one piece after being checked on the airplane).
The weather throughout the week was hot, and it wasn't going to cool off over the weekend. Expected temperatures ranged between 90 and 95 daily, though scattered showers were possible. I was hoping that history would not repeat itself and that there would be many scattered showers on Sunday. (The last past years had none, but were not short of humidity or lack of wind.)
As Gary and the girls spent the whole day at Animal Kingdom, I spend part of the day Friday registering and perusing all of the different store tents that had been set up. I bought a few odds and ends, and a much desired TYR transition bag, just like the one that my friends Carly and Holli have. The bag is a backpack, and is much easier to carry than a shoulder bag.
Saturday, I departed early again from the family activities at Typhoon Lagoon to return to the race grounds to check in my bike. It didn't even dawn on me that a mere 24 hours later, I'd be done with the race. At that point, I was just going through the motions, focusing on what was soon to come. With all of the fun around me, it was really hard not to think about anything but the race.
Sunday at 3:15am. I woke up a little bit before my alarm went off after a scattered night of sleep. I got into my new triathlon suit, a beautiful Michigan State University triathlon uniform that I bought off the MSU Tri Team website last winter. An awesome Louis Garneau design, I was fortunate enough to have many of the current MSU Tri Team sign it before I received it in the mail...about 20 signatures in all. (Again, a HUGE thank you to my fellow Spartans for that -- you are such an inspiration.) I wanted to save wearing this uniform for a very special occasion, and this was it. I had no idea how valuable that decision would be as the day went on.
I woke up Gary (who would drive me to the Magic Kingdom parking lot where the triathletes' busses were). I doubled checked my gear bag one last time and then headed over to the hotel's eating area. I heated up the scrambled eggs that I had ordered the day before, and slowly ate half of them. My stomach was a bundle of nerves, so I wasn't very hungry. I forced down what I could, knowing that this would be my only meal until late that day.
I went back to the room, got Gary, and we left. (Gary's best friend Brian, who was in the adjoining room next door, was there to watch the girls -- though everyone was still sound asleep.)
We arrived into the Magic Kingdom parking lot, where Gary dropped me off at the bus pick-up site. I hopped on the bus, surrounded by volunteers and athletes. The atmosphere was quiet, and I felt like I could have cut the tension with a knife.
Once we were at the Fort Wilderness Campgrounds (the site of the start and finish of the race), we got off the bus. I went into transition, knowing I had about two hours until my 7:03am swim wave would start. I partially set up my area, and chatted with a few of the girls in my row. Everyone in my row was extremely nice. The gals I met had never done a half ironman before, so we were all comparing notes on things like nutrition, history and preparation.
I headed over to the body marking area, scanning the area for my good friend, co-worker and inspiration, Alex G. I look up to Alex a lot. He's not only one hell of a person, he's a fantastic athlete to boot. He has overcome a lot of things, including injury and obesity. Like my girlfriend Carly, Alex has transformed himself to accel in traithlons, and I enjoy watching his successes. Just last year, he and I did our first traithlon together. Less than a year later, he has already found his first sponsorship and is surely focusing in on winning his age group soon.
After getting marked (my number being 1639), I headed over to transition to finish setting up my gear and getting in some nutrition. I wasn't about to make the same mistake that I did at St. Anthony's, where I locked myself out of transition.
Soon, I headed to the beach and was able to watch the professionals head off for their 1.2 mile swim. Alex was in the wave right behind him, and though I didn't get a chance to wish him luck, I was able to cheer on his start with his wife Jenny. It was only 30 minutes later that I would be in the water too.
That 30 minutes went fast. I spent the time hitting the head, checking out the water, stretching, and taking in one last gel. Before I knew it, I was on the beach with 118 other 35-39 year old women. The music was blaring to keep everyone pumped up. I have no idea now what the song was, but I do recall enjoying it so much that I was bouncing around before the horn sounded.
The horn blew, and I ran into the water. This time, I stayed in the middle of the pack. I didn't want to approach this race aggressively, mainly because I had no idea how much endurance stamina my body was capable of. I had read so many horror stories about dehydration, overhydration, poor nutrition, too much food, you name it, that I figured if I go at a slower, more comfortable pace, then my chances of finishing would increase dramatically.
Slow and easy is exactly what I did. I didn't sprint off the beach, and found my pace right away. The people around me were pretty aggressive, and I was bumped around quite a bit. I approached the swim with respect to those around me. I got a good kick in the mouth at one point, but was thankful it was just that and not one in the goggles, or worse yet, the nose. Yet if I overtook someone, I didn't try and swim over them, scratch them, kick them, or do anything aggressive. I figured that if I treat others with respect, then I will be rewarded somehow. Yes, that may not be the best approach in a "race", but for me, this wasn't a race against others, it was a race of validation, to know I could fulfill yet another one of my crazy dreams.
47 minutes later (yes, I told you it would be a slow swim), I was out of the water and in transition readying myself for the 56 mile bike ride that was ahead of me. At this point, it was just before 8am, and the heat was still bearable. I headed out, knowing that this would be a long portion of the race for me.
Looking strong after a dip in the lake.
Though long, the bike course was bearable. The heat wasn't bad at all, likely due to head winds that I had to face on occasion. I was forunate to also bike through a rain storm, which was extremely refreshing. I knew that was a blessing, since there hadn't been rain during the race in the last three years at least.
I knew I was slow on the bike. I probably passed one or two people at most, not including those who unfortunately got a flat or were disqualified along the way. It didn't really matter to me. My bike isn't great (hey, it's a $300 ebay purchase) so I can't expect miracles. It gets me from point A to point B, and that is what I was hoping to accomplish today. I got worried at about mile 15, when I noticed that my right clip seemed to be loose. I started to wonder if it would get worse over time, and eventually fall off. I decided to not think about it, and just keep pushing forward.
I had anticipated that during the long portions of this race, like the bike, that my mind would wander and ponder all of life's questions. Interestingly, my mind was quiet. And I liked it that way. At times, I did get a little bored, but soon found myself singing various Jason Mraz songs like "Dynamo of Volition". That song got me through many, many miles of the bike. (Thanks, Jason!)
Jammin' to Mraz in my mind as I peddle on...
One phenomenon I did encounter on the bike at times was the feeling that my toes were going to burst through my shoes. Around every 10 miles, I would encounter such excruciating pain that I'd have to wiggle my feet in various ways until the pain subsided. After a few miles of this extreme discomfort, the pain would mysteriously go away. After the third or fourth bout of this problem, I just sucked it up knowing that it was a phase and that relief would come. What I didn't know is if it would affect my running. If it did, I'd be screwed.
One thing I was thankful for was the fact that I had decided to wear my Spartan tri suit. As people would pass me on the bike, I'd hear a "GO SPARTANS" or "GO STATE". That little bit of encouragement from complete strangers made the daunting task of riding 56 miles that much easier.
After a long, 3:40 minute journey, the bike was over. Going at an easier pace worked to my advantage, as I had the energy to run my bike into transition. (My last race at St. Anthony's was a different story at this point when I began to hit a wall.) I elected to take my time in T2, utilizing the port-a-potty before I left for the run. (Turns out that was a VERY good move, because the heat was only going to get worse and that doesn't make for a happy port-a-potty environment...hmmm is there such a thing?)
Once I got to the run portion of this race, the heat had climbed substantially. The rain that had come through only made it more humid, though we were lucky to still have a good breeze with us, at least on part of the run course.
The run was a three-loop course that took us through Fort Wilderness bike paths, roads, and a water ravine that headed out to the main road. It was that ravine route that did many of us in. It was hot, had full sun, and no wind. There was a water stop on every mile of the course, and I made sure to take full advantage of it to avoid dehydration.
Though I found myself walking A LOT on this run, I was surprised to find myself passing a few people here and there. That made me feel good, since I don't consider running my strong point. I was also VERY happy that my hamstring wasn't giving me one single twinge or problem, especially as the miles piled on. I'd hear the occasional "GO SPARTANS" as well, which again was really encouraging. "Whoohoo! Go State!" I'd yell in reply.
In my second lap, I passed a few people throwing up or curled up in a ball waiting for medical attention. Did they push themselves too hard? Did they not take in adequate nutrition or hydration? Or did they simply get injured? Probably all of the above, it just depended on the person I'd pass at the time. Each time I saw someone in that condition, I thanked God for my abilities and also patted myself on the back for apparently doing the right thing when it comes to a hydration and nutrition plan.
The third lap was the hottest, with the sun high and hot. I found myself leapfrogging with a couple other guys. I'd pass them, then have to walk about 400 yards later. They'd pass me, then slowing to a walk after a minute or two. With only a mile and a half to go, I got that second (or ninth?) wind and decided to make a go of it for the finish line. I figured that I couldn't go wrong with such a short distance to go.
About 10 minutes later, I saw the campground facilities in sight, and knew the finish line was just about 500 yards away. I ran as if I were floating, knowing that nothing could stop me at this point. I looked down at my watch, and did a quick formulation in my head. 7 hours and 40 minutes of mind over matter. And with that, I crossed the finish line donning the biggest smile on my face.
Despite injury, the family illness with my dad's dual hip surgeries, and my sheer motivational dips throughout my training along the way, I had done it. I had finished an Ironman 70.3, exactly one year and one day after making my first commitment to this sport through the Team in Training program.
I can only imagine what challenges lie for me in the next year to come. One thing is for sure, there will be other half Ironmans in my future, and I won't just be in it to finish...and that's just the beginning.
After the 13.1 mile run (where more than half of that was trail running), this is what my shoes looked like.
Let's start from the end...I FINISHED THE FLORIDA HALF IRONMAN. Mission accomplished, yahoo!
Thanks, everyone, for your support. You help carries me throughout it all, and I am happy to share this success with you.
Ok, rewind back to the beginning of the trip. Though my family and I arrived in Orlando on Wednesday, the official weekend didn't start until Friday. Throughout the week, there were signs along the road that informed drivers that an Ironman race would take place Sunday, May 18th, and to prepare for traffic delays. Hey, they'd be waiting for me, I thought. I wanted to get a picture of one of these signs, but I never did.
I made sure to run a few miles, and to do a self-led shakedown ride for my bike (which thankfully made it in one piece after being checked on the airplane).
The weather throughout the week was hot, and it wasn't going to cool off over the weekend. Expected temperatures ranged between 90 and 95 daily, though scattered showers were possible. I was hoping that history would not repeat itself and that there would be many scattered showers on Sunday. (The last past years had none, but were not short of humidity or lack of wind.)
As Gary and the girls spent the whole day at Animal Kingdom, I spend part of the day Friday registering and perusing all of the different store tents that had been set up. I bought a few odds and ends, and a much desired TYR transition bag, just like the one that my friends Carly and Holli have. The bag is a backpack, and is much easier to carry than a shoulder bag.
Saturday, I departed early again from the family activities at Typhoon Lagoon to return to the race grounds to check in my bike. It didn't even dawn on me that a mere 24 hours later, I'd be done with the race. At that point, I was just going through the motions, focusing on what was soon to come. With all of the fun around me, it was really hard not to think about anything but the race.
Sunday at 3:15am. I woke up a little bit before my alarm went off after a scattered night of sleep. I got into my new triathlon suit, a beautiful Michigan State University triathlon uniform that I bought off the MSU Tri Team website last winter. An awesome Louis Garneau design, I was fortunate enough to have many of the current MSU Tri Team sign it before I received it in the mail...about 20 signatures in all. (Again, a HUGE thank you to my fellow Spartans for that -- you are such an inspiration.) I wanted to save wearing this uniform for a very special occasion, and this was it. I had no idea how valuable that decision would be as the day went on.
I woke up Gary (who would drive me to the Magic Kingdom parking lot where the triathletes' busses were). I doubled checked my gear bag one last time and then headed over to the hotel's eating area. I heated up the scrambled eggs that I had ordered the day before, and slowly ate half of them. My stomach was a bundle of nerves, so I wasn't very hungry. I forced down what I could, knowing that this would be my only meal until late that day.
I went back to the room, got Gary, and we left. (Gary's best friend Brian, who was in the adjoining room next door, was there to watch the girls -- though everyone was still sound asleep.)
We arrived into the Magic Kingdom parking lot, where Gary dropped me off at the bus pick-up site. I hopped on the bus, surrounded by volunteers and athletes. The atmosphere was quiet, and I felt like I could have cut the tension with a knife.
Once we were at the Fort Wilderness Campgrounds (the site of the start and finish of the race), we got off the bus. I went into transition, knowing I had about two hours until my 7:03am swim wave would start. I partially set up my area, and chatted with a few of the girls in my row. Everyone in my row was extremely nice. The gals I met had never done a half ironman before, so we were all comparing notes on things like nutrition, history and preparation.
I headed over to the body marking area, scanning the area for my good friend, co-worker and inspiration, Alex G. I look up to Alex a lot. He's not only one hell of a person, he's a fantastic athlete to boot. He has overcome a lot of things, including injury and obesity. Like my girlfriend Carly, Alex has transformed himself to accel in traithlons, and I enjoy watching his successes. Just last year, he and I did our first traithlon together. Less than a year later, he has already found his first sponsorship and is surely focusing in on winning his age group soon.
After getting marked (my number being 1639), I headed over to transition to finish setting up my gear and getting in some nutrition. I wasn't about to make the same mistake that I did at St. Anthony's, where I locked myself out of transition.
Soon, I headed to the beach and was able to watch the professionals head off for their 1.2 mile swim. Alex was in the wave right behind him, and though I didn't get a chance to wish him luck, I was able to cheer on his start with his wife Jenny. It was only 30 minutes later that I would be in the water too.
That 30 minutes went fast. I spent the time hitting the head, checking out the water, stretching, and taking in one last gel. Before I knew it, I was on the beach with 118 other 35-39 year old women. The music was blaring to keep everyone pumped up. I have no idea now what the song was, but I do recall enjoying it so much that I was bouncing around before the horn sounded.
The horn blew, and I ran into the water. This time, I stayed in the middle of the pack. I didn't want to approach this race aggressively, mainly because I had no idea how much endurance stamina my body was capable of. I had read so many horror stories about dehydration, overhydration, poor nutrition, too much food, you name it, that I figured if I go at a slower, more comfortable pace, then my chances of finishing would increase dramatically.
Slow and easy is exactly what I did. I didn't sprint off the beach, and found my pace right away. The people around me were pretty aggressive, and I was bumped around quite a bit. I approached the swim with respect to those around me. I got a good kick in the mouth at one point, but was thankful it was just that and not one in the goggles, or worse yet, the nose. Yet if I overtook someone, I didn't try and swim over them, scratch them, kick them, or do anything aggressive. I figured that if I treat others with respect, then I will be rewarded somehow. Yes, that may not be the best approach in a "race", but for me, this wasn't a race against others, it was a race of validation, to know I could fulfill yet another one of my crazy dreams.
47 minutes later (yes, I told you it would be a slow swim), I was out of the water and in transition readying myself for the 56 mile bike ride that was ahead of me. At this point, it was just before 8am, and the heat was still bearable. I headed out, knowing that this would be a long portion of the race for me.
Looking strong after a dip in the lake.
Though long, the bike course was bearable. The heat wasn't bad at all, likely due to head winds that I had to face on occasion. I was forunate to also bike through a rain storm, which was extremely refreshing. I knew that was a blessing, since there hadn't been rain during the race in the last three years at least.
I knew I was slow on the bike. I probably passed one or two people at most, not including those who unfortunately got a flat or were disqualified along the way. It didn't really matter to me. My bike isn't great (hey, it's a $300 ebay purchase) so I can't expect miracles. It gets me from point A to point B, and that is what I was hoping to accomplish today. I got worried at about mile 15, when I noticed that my right clip seemed to be loose. I started to wonder if it would get worse over time, and eventually fall off. I decided to not think about it, and just keep pushing forward.
I had anticipated that during the long portions of this race, like the bike, that my mind would wander and ponder all of life's questions. Interestingly, my mind was quiet. And I liked it that way. At times, I did get a little bored, but soon found myself singing various Jason Mraz songs like "Dynamo of Volition". That song got me through many, many miles of the bike. (Thanks, Jason!)
Jammin' to Mraz in my mind as I peddle on...
One phenomenon I did encounter on the bike at times was the feeling that my toes were going to burst through my shoes. Around every 10 miles, I would encounter such excruciating pain that I'd have to wiggle my feet in various ways until the pain subsided. After a few miles of this extreme discomfort, the pain would mysteriously go away. After the third or fourth bout of this problem, I just sucked it up knowing that it was a phase and that relief would come. What I didn't know is if it would affect my running. If it did, I'd be screwed.
One thing I was thankful for was the fact that I had decided to wear my Spartan tri suit. As people would pass me on the bike, I'd hear a "GO SPARTANS" or "GO STATE". That little bit of encouragement from complete strangers made the daunting task of riding 56 miles that much easier.
After a long, 3:40 minute journey, the bike was over. Going at an easier pace worked to my advantage, as I had the energy to run my bike into transition. (My last race at St. Anthony's was a different story at this point when I began to hit a wall.) I elected to take my time in T2, utilizing the port-a-potty before I left for the run. (Turns out that was a VERY good move, because the heat was only going to get worse and that doesn't make for a happy port-a-potty environment...hmmm is there such a thing?)
Once I got to the run portion of this race, the heat had climbed substantially. The rain that had come through only made it more humid, though we were lucky to still have a good breeze with us, at least on part of the run course.
The run was a three-loop course that took us through Fort Wilderness bike paths, roads, and a water ravine that headed out to the main road. It was that ravine route that did many of us in. It was hot, had full sun, and no wind. There was a water stop on every mile of the course, and I made sure to take full advantage of it to avoid dehydration.
Though I found myself walking A LOT on this run, I was surprised to find myself passing a few people here and there. That made me feel good, since I don't consider running my strong point. I was also VERY happy that my hamstring wasn't giving me one single twinge or problem, especially as the miles piled on. I'd hear the occasional "GO SPARTANS" as well, which again was really encouraging. "Whoohoo! Go State!" I'd yell in reply.
In my second lap, I passed a few people throwing up or curled up in a ball waiting for medical attention. Did they push themselves too hard? Did they not take in adequate nutrition or hydration? Or did they simply get injured? Probably all of the above, it just depended on the person I'd pass at the time. Each time I saw someone in that condition, I thanked God for my abilities and also patted myself on the back for apparently doing the right thing when it comes to a hydration and nutrition plan.
The third lap was the hottest, with the sun high and hot. I found myself leapfrogging with a couple other guys. I'd pass them, then have to walk about 400 yards later. They'd pass me, then slowing to a walk after a minute or two. With only a mile and a half to go, I got that second (or ninth?) wind and decided to make a go of it for the finish line. I figured that I couldn't go wrong with such a short distance to go.
About 10 minutes later, I saw the campground facilities in sight, and knew the finish line was just about 500 yards away. I ran as if I were floating, knowing that nothing could stop me at this point. I looked down at my watch, and did a quick formulation in my head. 7 hours and 40 minutes of mind over matter. And with that, I crossed the finish line donning the biggest smile on my face.
Despite injury, the family illness with my dad's dual hip surgeries, and my sheer motivational dips throughout my training along the way, I had done it. I had finished an Ironman 70.3, exactly one year and one day after making my first commitment to this sport through the Team in Training program.
I can only imagine what challenges lie for me in the next year to come. One thing is for sure, there will be other half Ironmans in my future, and I won't just be in it to finish...and that's just the beginning.
After the 13.1 mile run (where more than half of that was trail running), this is what my shoes looked like.
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