I don’t know where to start. Or how to begin. Or how to end.
We did it. We are Ironmen.
And I’m still pinching myself to see if this really
happened.
My Observations Based
on a One-Day Experience:
Ironman can be the pinnacle of an achievement, a year of
work, and them BAM, one day passes and it’s done. Like a wedding. Or the birth
of a child. Ironman.
Or it can be one day amongst many in the fabric of life,
like a quilt. It’s one patch, right next to other patches. It may stand out
brighter and shinier, but it’s still a day like the others and a part of this
whole experience of life on earth. It’s a day that changes you forever. But
it’s also just one day.
It’s one day that we focus on putting our best foot forward,
on staying positive no matter what the circumstances because we know that if we
don’t stay positive, we may not finish. It’s the day where we realize the
strongest muscle we have is not in our legs or our hips or our arms, but deep
in our chest and somewhere between our ears. If we can figure out a way to move
past the discomfort and look at the beauty around us, we’ll finish. We’ll cross
the line with a smile on our faces.
Ironman Lesson #1:
More than muscles, more than fitness, attitude matters. So,
I can’t help but wonder now that we’re done and I think about everything we’ve
learned this year: why don’t we treat
everyday like this? Why don’t I? Why don’t I look at each day and say, “If
I just stay positive today no matter what, I can make this day better”?
Ironman Lesson #2:
Encouragement matters. Every race bib in an IM race not only
has a person’s number on it, but it has that person’s name on it. So when
people see you, they call you out by name, especially on the run. I’ve decided
personally that words sound even more encouraging in a southern accent. I was
called Hon (short for Honey) and Sweetie and Girl more times than I can
imagine. You gawt this, girl. Come awn,
Honey, this is yors.
Plus, we had oodles of people, people that I don’t even know
because they’re the friend of a friend or the friend of my sister cheering for
us, praying for us, and watching us finish live at home.
Imagine how much easier life would be when, on those days
that you don’t think you can handle one more thing, one more child saying no or
one more temper tantrum or one more project or one more piece of laundry to
fold, if someone was yelling from the sideline, “You gawt this, girl! Come awn,
Honey, this is yors!”
Ironman Lesson #3:
Triathlon can make marriage better. One of the (incredibly
sad) sayings surrounding triathletes is, “If you’re still married, you’re not
training hard enough.” Yes. Seriously. We have the blessing of having a common
interest fifteen years after we promised to stick with each other throughout
our time on this earth. And so instead of something dividing us, it united us.
I’m so proud of Jason for not just finishing but seriously
crushing that race. He stuck with all parts of his plan (read below if you’re interested),
and his plan worked wonderfully for him.
I thought for sure that I’d be thinking of him most of the
day. And yes, I did think of him. I wondered how the swim had gone, how the
bike was going, how he felt on the run. I didn’t have to wonder all day,
though. Around 7:00, my new best friend from Canada (read my race report for
more info) and I were walking through an aid station when one of the porta
potty doors flew open and almost took her out. Out stepped Jason Troxell.
Seeing him encouraged me so much. We exchanged encouraging words and very brief
race reports, and then he went on to run the last six miles of his race while I
ran the last half of mine.
We learned so much this year. God blessed us with this
opportunity, and then He continued to pour out blessings in the form of
physical strength, mental strength, and friends and family that all made
reaching this goal possible.
And while this little journey has come to an end, I have a
feeling that we have many more fun rides ahead.
Nikki’s Race Report:
Before the race
We set our alarms for 3:30 am, but our excellent sherpa,
Kurt, wanted us up earlier apparently because his alarm went off at 2:30.
Needless to say, we had our gear ready and were holding our arms out for body
marking at transition by 4:30. Then school busses hauled us down to the swim
start where we formed a line with other racers and pretended to take naps on
the ground using our wetsuits as pillows. This worked well for a while until
some rude man in a green volunteer shirt told us to move forward. Just kidding.
All the volunteers were actually fantastic. As Mike Reilly, the voice of Ironman
says, it’s like having your mom with you all day long. I loved the volunteers.
The Swim:
We walked down a pier and jumped into semi-cool water feet
first, and then we started swimming. I started right next to Jason. And the
swim went incredibly well. The current obviously aided me because my half-iron
swim was around 56 minutes, and my full ironman time on Sunday was 1:05.
Ironically, my shoulder, which has been bugging me the past two weeks, felt
great the entire day.
T1:
I transitioned fairly smoothly and even got to experience
wet-suit stripping. I pulled my suit down to my waist, laid on the ground, and
a spry old guy in a green volunteer shirt yanked it off my lower half. That was
fun and memorable.
The Bike:
The scenery blew me away. Seriously. We live in a place
where people joke that the state tree is the telephone pole. And on this bike
course, hills with gold, orange, and red-leafed trees flanked the road. This
course had some nice rollers, which I personally love. I never mind climbing a
hill when I know I get to race down the other side like a kid. I believe I even
yelled “weeee!” a few times downhill. I rode the bike at a moderate pace
because I kept wondering what I’d need left for the run, so I paid attention to
the alarm on my watch and ate whenever it went off. I had zero issues on the
bike, thankfully. Other racers reported tacks on the road (which explains the
number of very fast-looking and irritated riders on the side of the road fixing
their tires) as well as a few accidents (I believe 11 different people earned
trips to the local ER because of bike accidents). I finished with a sore
backside, but that’s it.
T2:
I transitioned fairly smoothly here as well. I aimed to beat
every cutoff, and when I rolled into T2 around 4:00, nearly two hours before
the cutoff, I was ecstatic. A wonderful volunteer helped me change in the
women’s changing tent into my run gear, and when I thanked her and apologized
for how bad I smelled, she said, “Oh, don’t worry about it. I got peed on
today.” Yeah, she was a dedicated volunteer. She also informed me that I was
going to make it because I could walk the whole run if I had to and still make
the cutoff.
The Run:
When I was biking, I had a hard time imagining feeling like
running after the 116-mile ride, but I did. The crowds kept me moving that
first mile. I heard my name and kept wondering who saw me that knew me, and
then I turned around, and I saw Claude and Monica. They convinced us to sign up
for Choo. They were the reason we came. I loved seeing them at the beginning
because they gave me such positive energy from the start. Somewhere shortly
before mile five a girl sidled up next to me and said something like, “Hey,
you’re about my pace, so I’m going to run with you.” And we ran together the
rest of the race. I call her my CBFF (Canadian Best Friend). I had some gut
issues during the first half of the marathon, and when I walked, so did she.
She kept me moving, though, and she reminded me much of my friend Sheila by
giving us little markers like, “We’ll start running at the cone there,” or
“Let’s just run to the next aid station.” I ended up eating nothing solid from
about mile six on, and at every aid station I drank water, Coke, and eventually
chicken broth (yum!!!!). We walked up every hill (and there were many of them),
and ran down every downhill and on the flat parts. In short, we survived the
marathon. And we finished two hours before the cutoff.
In Summary:
Jason's Race Report:
Mission accomplished. What a feeling. Amazing day. Unexplainable journey. Finished. Ironman. I have so many thoughts and emotions going through my head it is hard to put them all into words. We did it. This particular undertaking was accomplished and we move on applying the lessons learned and life experiences gained to whatever comes next. Without further ado here is my race report:
Pre-race-
I was tired, nervous, and had a bit of stomach issues. I didn't get much sleep the night before although I didn't feel any more nervous than some of my half iron race mornings. I just wanted to get this thing underway. We walked down to transition, got body marked, dropped off the special needs bags, and rode the bus to the swim drop off. Wow, this thing was here.
Swim-
Shortly after waking up we were notified via social media that the water temp was 1 degree too warm for wetsuits to be worn and still be eligible for age group awards and Kona slots. I was there to finish, and thus not worried at all about placement. The wetsuit went on. There was so much talk of the river current, them shutting the dam down so there would be no current, etc that I didn't know what to expect. The swim went well, and as my time shows, the river current ended up being a factor-- pushing me to a swim that was roughly 25 seconds per hundred faster than my "normal" half iron pace....yes I am that slow. I had goals to really work on my swim this year and just never did it. Thus it is again a goal for me now that the off season has arrived. Anyway, the swim went great. I got a little warm towards the end, but no cramping so that was a plus.
Bike-
We never did make it out to drive the course so all I had in my head was what I had read in the forums. The overall opinion of a tough and hilly course was in my thoughts and the nagging reminder that....well....(confession time...sorry Yoda!!)...this ride would be the first time on my bike in three weeks added to my anxiety. After grabbing both my sunglasses and helmet (with built in visor....ooops), I hit the road. I felt great on the bike. The course was tough, but not impossible. I believe the sessions on the computrainer and biking outside around Lake Cochrane adequately prepared me for the ride. I didn't want to push too hard because I knew what was up next so I made a big effort to pay attention to speed/cadence and not go "all out". For reasons outside of their control, Ironman had to add a little over four miles to the bike and it was a hot topic all weekend. In my opinion we just got to enjoy some awesome country for a little bit longer!
Run-
I went into the weekend with the plan to survive the swim, put in a solid effort on the bike, and then do a lot of walking on the marathon. My longest run in training was 14 miles. Once. Otherwise a handful of 10-13 mile runs where what I could do this year. I had never run more than that 14 miles. I had NO idea what to expect on the run. I got off the bike, put on dry socks/shoes, and headed out. I felt good so I started off running. I stopped at every aid station and decided to keep running till I couldn't. I felt great the entire time, I walked through the aid stations, stopped to use the facilities, and walked during a couple of dark moments (the run course was BRUTAL), but otherwise I never hit a wall or had any cramps or GI issues at all. I loved the run, it was the single hardest thing I had ever done and I had to constantly fight off demons in order to keep moving. Something about digging deeper than I ever have and "winning" the battle with myself was awesome and an experience I will NEVER forget. Having Mike Reilly bring me in to cross the line was something I'd dreamed of ever since I started following this sport and I was not disapointed- that man can bring your day to an epic ending!
Parting thoughts-
This was the single most rewarding athletic accomplishment in my life- hands down. I cannot even grasp yet the enormity of what we just were part of, the training, the sacrifices, the high moments, the low moments, the support. Doing an Ironman is more than competing on race day- it is a life lesson and one that I hope will make me a better person, husband, father, and friend. Getting back to the hotel room and seeing all of the comments and congratulations and then seeing all the people who had been following along throughout the day was absolutely mind boggling for me. You all are so awesome for your support in this adventure, I wish we could do something to say thanks for everything you did for us. ANYONE can do an Ironman. I hope that our journey inspired you, challenged you, and maybe even helped you at least start to see what doors you can open if you commit to something. Until next time, this half of the Two Ambitious Parents is signing off. God bless!
