Nearly three weeks have passed since the race so I’m already in that stage of “it wasn’t so bad”, but haven’t crossed over to the “I’m ready to sign up for another,” stage either. True to the vow my sister, Maggie, and I made around mile 20 of the marathon, never again. That’s it.
First off, the ‘why.”
I signed up for a number of reasons:
• My best friend, Carla Hoffman, finished her 2nd IM last summer and being competitive I couldn’t have her doing more than me
• I’m turning 50 this year and I needed to know I still had ‘it’
• I needed to get rid of 10 lbs. and this was the easiest way for me to accomplish that goal
• My youngest sister, Maggie, and good friend, Mary Lessor, signed up so I wouldn’t be training alone
• I could no longer stomach the thought of being a 1 hit wonder.
None of them very valid reasons, but reasons nonetheless.
We knew it was going to be hot; Texas in May, how could it not be? The continuous wind since early March ensured that it would be a windy day. What I didn’t count on was the cold during those months of training that kept me on the Computrainer for all of my rides and out of the local lakes until 3 weeks before the event. Like the majority of runners turned triathletes, the swim is the part I fear the most.
Race morning – up at 4 am after a great night of sleep, and my husband, Rick, went down to the lobby and brought back a bagel and peanut butter for me. I’m not someone who can eat much solid food first thing in the morning so that bagel only grew in my already dry mouth and I set it aside and opted for a banana followed by a carton of Boost. Maggie and my brother-in-law, Craig, were in the room next door and we had the adjoining door open between our rooms. Maggie fixed my hair in cute braids (a girl has got to look good, right?), and then by 5 am we were out the door and on our way to transition. Loaded our bikes with gels, water and energy drinks then it was time for the 30 minute walk from transition to the swim start. Thousands of athletes and their support crews walked pretty silently; you can pretty much count on the fact that the mass swim start has just about everyone concerned about getting kicked, elbowed or smacked at some point.
Before the race. We're doing our best to remain calm.
There wasn’t much time to think about what I was going to do. A quick goodbye to Rick, Mary was into the water before I could say goodbye to her and Maggie and I kissed one another good luck and then headed to the ramp where athletes were getting into the water before the start. The song “Ironman” began to blare through the speakers, the gun went off and Maggie turned to me and said, “Start your watch.” We were both still on the ramp.
Mass start of 2300 competitors
Into the water and my heart is pounding. Free-style for about 25 yards, flip over on my back and back-stroke till I can consider putting my face back into the water. This happens about 4 times before getting comfortable and then I’m heading to the right outside part of the crowd and getting into my grove. One-two-three, breathe, one-two-three, breathe, one-two sight, one-two breathe, one-two-three breathe, and this is the pattern I follow till seeing the first red turn buoy. Round the buoy, and then aim for the next red buoy and then make another left. My friend Alma had mentioned that she was possibly going to be in one of the canoes during the swim so I’m kindof keeping an eye out for her. The swim feels somewhat long, but I’m feeling good and wondering when the canal is going to appear. Really? Not yet? During the swim I’m sending up prayers to God to watch over me and wondering if He’s able to hear me because you know every athlete is doing the same thing. I finally know He’s hearing me when I look up to sight and there’s always a clear space in front of me. Into the canal and now I know what a salmon heading upstream to spawn feels like. If I don’t keep myself together laughter is going to overtake my ability to breathe and swim. I see people on the side of the canal but don’t hear anything; one guy in a wet suit tries to climb over me and I yell at him to “Go, just go, because you keep running into me.” That’s a first for me.
Swimming up the canal
Final buoy and next thing I know I’m at the steps running up the incline saying something to another athlete who is heading up the ramp with me. Then I hear “Ginger!! Stop talking and go!” Yup, there’s my girl Alma.
Grabbing my 'bike bag.'
Grab the bike bag, helmet is on my head before I hit the changing tent and off to grab my bike. My name is announced as I leave T1 and unbeknownst to me, Maggie is just ahead. We later find out that we are within 1 minute of one another. On the bike and I’m thinking, slow is smooth, smooth is fast.
Heading out for the 112 mi. bike segment
Within 1 or 2 miles, on my left is a flash of white and a huge smile; it’s my sister, Maggie, and I quickly follow. This is when the fun of the day begins and what started in a panic for me turns into one of the very best days of my life. The 112 miles ahead disappear and I’m riding with my sister in what feels more like a rally than an Ironman. I stay as far behind as I can without letting her get too far ahead, we coordinate our bathroom stops (only 2), and really provide that emotional energy and inspiration to one another. It’s a long time on the bike, made bearable by being with one of my dearest friends; someone I trust and respect and admire. I’d love to report that the ride when quickly, but 112 miles is 112 miles no matter how you slice it. I was more than ready to get off that bike and onto the run.
The turn into “The Woodlands” was deceiving and that last 5 miles seemed the longest yet. My right hamstring was hurting and I can’t even talk about the pain in my left shoulder without thinking about how it felt like a knife stabbing into the muscles between my shoulder blades. Finally it’s over.
6:40 later, I'm so ready to get off the bike; Maggie is all smiles
Into the changing tent, we are pulling on socks, shoes, Maggie runs to the port-o-let while I slather the bus-driver fat under my right arm with body glide and shove Enduralites and Sport Beans into my pockets. Out of the tent and I do a quick assessment of my ‘parts’; everything feels good, including the hamstring.
Mary Lessor waiting for us to begin the marathon
We see Mary on the side, cheering us on. Find out later that she had an enormous blister on the bottom of her foot, caused by her bike shoe. It’s tougher to pull out of a race when you are doing well than it is to keep going and Maggie and I just keep moving. We’ll see her several times during the 3 loop run.
We see Mary on the side and both ask "what's up?"
Focusing on the aid stations is the only thing that keeps me moving forward; that and knowing that Maggie pulled me through the bike and now I need to be there to help her with the run. She had been sick with a bad sinus infection and although she got through the swim and bike, the run is a different matter, indeed. We keep a good pace through the first loop, grabbing ice, water and Perform and walking through every aid station. There is a good mix of sun/shade on the run and before you know if we are nearly through the first loop.
Again….”GINGER!!!” OMG, the girl is going to scream up a lung. Alma is cheering and as we start running by I see Carla, Paul, and Diane Proud. Oh my gosh; they drove from Dallas to Houston to see the run. I give Carla a big sweaty hug and we waste no time chatting but get on with the run. Maggie turns to me “Who was that girl?” Not referring to Carla but to Alma. That gave me the biggest laugh of the day. You gotta know Alma to appreciate her cheering and screaming. Knowing they were all there kept me moving forward.
Alma
My reaction on seeing Carla, Paul and Diane
Cruelty at a long event comes in the form of a second and third loop passing by the finish line. Torture, but it was also inspiring. We kept moving, thinking about the “spectacular” finish promised in the pre-event literature. Maggie had been questioning the “spectacular” part of the event because she had only Red Man (in Oklahoma, notorious for its desolate course), as comparison. I had assured her that the finish would indeed be ‘spectacular’ as only a Ford Ironman finish can be.
After the first loop Maggie told me that she couldn’t continue at our current pace. I was feeling good, she wasn’t and it was a tough decision for me. I really wanted to break 14 hours, but I wanted to finish with her, but I wanted to do my very best, but she had helped me through the bike, but I wanted to beat Carla’s time, but I was never going to do another IM with my sister, but…. You get the picture. It was difficult. She cried. I hesitated. But my Type-A need to do my very best won.
On the run
We said our goodbyes and I began running. Well, I didn’t get too far till I needed to stop at the aid station, use the port-a-potty and then do it again at the next. Wasn’t feeling too good so I forced Propel, Coke whatever they had. Had also been stuffing my hat with ice, putting it down my back and into my jog bra. As disgusting as it sounds, the ice in the bra was the very best thing because from aid station to aid station I could reach in there, pull out some ice and my mouth never got dry. Yeah…gross, especially since my once white bra was brown from the lake/canal. Try not to think about it.
Saw Rick around mile 12 and let him know that Maggie wasn’t doing too good and then saw Craig and told him that Maggie was having a tough time. He gave me a look that said “what are you talking about?” and then said “She’s ahead of you.”
I’ll be. There she was. I jogged to her and from that point on we were together. Thank God. Away went any thoughts of a PR, or of beating Carla’s time or of any other expectation. We were going to finish together and we did. One foot in front of the other. Walking the aid stations and having fun. We flirted with other racers along the way, enjoyed the cheering crowd and knocked out those miles aid station by aid station.
On that last loop we could hear the announcer and the crowds. Our pace picked up and before we knew it we were in the chute smiling as big as you please. Maggie started getting teary eyed, I turned to her…”Pretty spectacular, huh?” It was. As only an Ironman can be.
We crossed the finish line holding hands. It was everything I had anticipated it to be and so much more.
After crossing the finish line we found a place to wait for our husbands to find us.
