Role Reversal

This past weekend I had the honor of being my parent's support crew as they walked the Bellingham Bay half marathon.  It made me smile to watch them prepare for their race the night before, to hear them strategize the morning of, and to see their smiles as they passed by me at mile 9 - in full 'jog' mode mind you.  After watching them finish I was reminded of my Mom's first half marathon experience only a year and a half ago and I recalled the story she wrote about it.  With her permission I am sharing that story with all of you in this blog's very first guest post.

Athlete-In-Training

I can honestly say that those who know me would never have linked those three words to my name! My children and husband were the athletes in our family. I was the spectator and side-line enthusiast. When challenged, I would say that I run: I run the support car, I run the household, I run to the store, I run a department, at times I run in circles, I get run down.... That said, I have always been physically active, preferring brisk walking and hiking with my husband, or close acquaintances. Over the years, we have added ballroom dancing to the list. This is the closest I have come to a gym in years. Exercise with a social aspect has always been key to my participation; fair weather dictated my involvement. 

Although diagnosed with breast cancer in June 2009, I considered myself to be in excellent health. I was in decent shape, had endurance, and had always recovered easily from physical stress. I knew that this baseline would assist me in the ensuing months. Surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation followed. I struggled to accept the outpouring of support from family and friends; this was a private struggle. Dancing once a week, daily walks with our bulldog, and a full time job helped launch me into 2010 – my psychological reserves however, were on low.  

In January I sought an outlet that would give ME a chance to re-emerge, and discovered the Team Survivor NW website. I cautiously attended a TSNW Run/Walk group meeting and was struck by the low-key, inviting discussion that was led by Monica. Simple, commonsense pointers hit a receptive cord. An appealing extra: TSNW did not know me. This was my opportunity to try something different, to do it with anonymity, and on my own terms.   

Mid week emails and a calendar set the plan in place! Ultimately, this same encouragement led me to take the plunge and sign up for the Rock-N-Roll Half Marathon.  At first only my husband and children knew. Shopping for a novice athlete-in-training provided fun mother/daughter bonding moments. I received supplemental advice from my daughter, the tri-athlete, and a concerned question from my son, “Aren’t you doing it with Dad?” In a role reversal, my husband became my side-line enthusiast.  

Training, I discovered, was/is by far the best part of this experience. I began to look forward to the weekend gathering spots, the new ground to cover, the challenge of longer distances and ultimately decreasing time, the tips for hills and sore muscles, the opportunity to be inspired by the women around me. I laughed at myself stretching before a walk, getting my gear ready the night before an early morning session, switching from a cold-weather stocking cap to a baseball cap over a “proceeding” hairline, and seriously shopping at REI for portable fuel! 

I grew stronger listening to the amazing women who shared the cancer survivor journey. The walking conversations ranged from where to shop for mastectomy apparel and medi-spa locations, first attempts at “running” long distances, to stretching tips – not just for walking, but also for post radiation effects. We talked, we laughed, we commiserated, and the miles receded behind us. I heard their stories and continue to be inspired by the strength that is collectively represented at Team Survivor NW. 

I completed the half-marathon with a time much better than anticipated and muscles that screamed back at me, laughing as I crossed the 5k, 10k markers, and finally 13.1 miles (really?)! Monica was there at the T-gathering spot with warm congratulations, sage stretching, and icing advice as I drank down my chocolate milk – per recommendation. I crossed the finish line alone, but realize that I am not. 

Thank you, TSNW.


What's next for these two athletes (I think it's about time to drop the 'in-training' bit)?  Well, if I had it my way they'd be running more than walking in their next half...or they'd be finishing halves all over the states.  I think BOTH could be done.  We'll see.  I'm very persuasive.

Around the World in Pictures

Number 28 on the 30 while 30 list was - Scan all of my Semester at Sea pictures...and then make a scrap book.  Well, I've gotten so far as to scan them all into the computer so I'm considering this one pretty complete.  There are a few missing that I've given away at some point in the last 9 years and getting copies of those is going to be a real pain in the butt.  Anywho.  Here's a slideshow of my 100 days at sea.  If you haven't heard the story then the summary goes like this:

- I wanted to do a study abroad but I didn't want to pick just one location.
- I stumbled on Semester at Sea which is a voyage around the world in 100 days and visiting 9 countries.  My kind of study abroad.
- I went during the Fall of 2002.
- We left Vancouver, B.C. and traveled across the Pacific to the following locales:

Kobe, Japan (side trip to Kyoto)
Shanghai, China
Hong Kong, China
Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam (side trip to Buon Me Thuot and Nah Trang)
Penang, Malaysia (side trip to Langkawi Island)
Chenai, India (side trip to New Delhi, Agra, and Jaipur)
Mombassa, Kenya (side trip to Nairobi and the Maasai Mara)
Cape Town, South Africa (side trip to Kagga Kama Nature Reserve)
Salvador, Brazil (side trip to Lencois)
Havana, Cuba

It was an experience I'll never forget and has largely shaped the person I am today.  I apologize for the grainy-ness of the pictures.  They're scanned, what can I do?

Fall Sunset

Last night I was able to catch the gorgeous Bellingham sunset.  I only had time to capture it from my back door so please try to ignore the ugly wires cutting through the pictures.

Ironman Canada Race Report (aka Autobiography)

WARNING: This is going to be long.  The grammar will be incorrect, my tenses will be off, but the entire story is in front of you.  If you're looking for the short version then you might as well give me a call instead because I won't talk your ear off but I will take weeks to write up my experience.

1. Compete in Ironman Canada  
   

It's surreal to cross that off my list as it's been the main focus all year and now it's over.  At times it feels like it didn't happen, like I should still be out on my bike, on a run, or at the lake training for this epic race.  But...it happened.  I AM AN IRONMAN!  Or 'Ironwoman' if you want to be politically correct but I don't, so there.

I thought I'd be all emotional on race day.  I've heard the stories about people crying during the anthem (granted it wasn't the national anthem that I'm used to so maybe that's what did it) or just crying throughout the day as they contemplated what still lay ahead, how far they've come, what they're about to accomplish.  I guess I'm just dead inside.

No seriously though.  About a month before the race I was a basket case.  I was crying while watching Ironman compilation videos on YouTube - I needed motivation.  Getting chills at the images of people racing their hearts out.  I EXPECTED to cry.  But my day, August 28th, 2011, there were no tears of any kind.  I was just simply ready to compete.

Four A.M. came pretty early on Sunday but I felt rested and actually had an amazing night's rest - I didn't dream once about the race!  I rolled out of the hotel bed and fired up the hot plate for a breakfast of rice cereal, raw almonds, dried cranberries, and a spoonful of honey.  While the water was heating up I zoned out to my homemade Ironman soundtrack, dressed, and mentally prepared myself for the day - visualizing all aspects of the race and how I wanted it to go.  By the time Kyle knocked on the door around 5:15 Gabe and I were all set to go.

We parked easily and made our way in the dark towards the fluorescent lights that marked the transition area - meandering around the gated off section of Main St. and finally stumbling on the special needs drop area and body marking.  Once marked the sky was starting to brighten and we moved with the crowd into the transition area.  I dropped Gabe off at his bike and went in search of a friendly face with a bike pump.  Due to the high temps the day before Gabe and I had played it safe and deflated our tires a bit before racking them.  I've heard too many horror stories of tires popping the evening before the race.  

Luckily a gentleman with a pump was near my bike and he graciously held it as I pumped the front and back.  Next, load water bottles and my bento box.  Nutrition deets: aero bottle with 3 scoops of Blueberry Pomegranate GU Brew, water bottle with flat Coke and water, 3 opened Cliff Bars (2 Oatmeal and 1 Apricot), 1 gel flask with 5 Chocolate GUs diluted with water (stashed in my swim to bike transition bag to be stuffed in my tri jersey).

Once the bikes were all prepped and ready to go and last minute stashing of items in the transition bags was complete (I also put a cold Vanilla Slim Fast in the swim to bike transition bag) it was pretty much time to hang out.  Gabe and I stood around for a bit taking really AWESOME pictures and watching the slow moving porta pottie line.  Fortunately (or unfortunately as it may have come back to bite me later in the race) neither of us had to 'go' if you know what I mean so we could skip the line and the panic of waiting in line while we SHOULD be making our way to the swim area.  That said, people watching and goofing around lasted all of about 2 minutes before we got bored and decided there was no time like the present to done the wetsuit and make our way to the beach.

I may 'feel' awake but my eyes say otherwise.

The week leading up to the race Gabe and I had watched several IM Canada swim start videos on YouTube (man, I'm starting to sound like an ad agent for them) to determine the 'best' starting spot.  The summary from our research - about a quarter of the athletes start on the right hand side of the buoys.  Everyone else is either on the buoy line or to the left of the buoys.  I presume this is either because they don't really know that you can swim inside the buoys or because you have to be on the left side of the turn buoys so why make yourself swim extra?  But my theory is clean water and swimming a bit extra is better in the long run.  AND I'm pretty sure inside the buoy line is not swimming extra.  

I digress.  You'll see my nice diagram below (including me in my pink swim cap) that depicts the mass of people on the beach and to the left of the buoy line, and the slightly smaller mass of people to the right of the buoy line.  So there we go.

Gabe and I were pretty much the first people on the beach so we had ample room and time to warm up.  The water felt great!  I think the quoted temp for the morning was 71 degrees.  The warm up was short and probably worthless since we then proceeded to stand around and watch as people migrated to the beach - looking for friends.  Oh well, I was pretty sure the 2.4 mile swim would warm me up for the rest of the day.

As the rest of the athletes joined us I quickly spotted Lora and Jeanette (don't ask me how).  Conveniently, both the official cameraman and John were nearby and captured the animated conversation between our little group.

Explaining my 'right side of the buoy line' strategy.

Pointing out John in the crowd.

What?!  We have to swim all the way across the lake?

Minutes later the horn sounded for the pros to start and then the countdown began.  2890 athletes converged into the shallows of the water and onto the beach and waited in anticipation for our own horn to signal the beginning of this day.  I stood about 3 rows of people back from the very front and as far right as possible without being in the crowd of spectators.  Shivering not from cold but nerves.  I wouldn't say I was 'nervous' but more curious to see how this portion of the race would pan out.  

I've come to the realization that I'm not a fast open water swimmer.  I've gained a ton of speed in the water over the last year but I've only witnessed this speed in the pool.  It's like the minute my body hits open water the only thing I focus on is being relaxed which does not lend itself to speed.  But with 2889 other people in the water with me I wanted the 'relaxed' me regardless of what that meant for my time.  Don't get me wrong, I had time goals.  Anything under 1:30 I was happy with but if I rocked it and swam like I actually can then I should come in around 1:15.  But, time wasn't in my mind as the horn went off and I watched as the first two rows strided out into the water and began to swim.

Swim: 2.4 miles, 1:23:24, 2:12/100M Pace, 94/143 Division Place, 1869/2890 Overall Place

I walked slowly forward, waiting to find an open spot to finally put my face in the water and start swimming.  It didn't take long for the first two rows to clear out enough and being only knee deep in water I decided there was no better time like the present to start this day.  The water was murky and shallow so for the first 25 meters or so I sited frequently and pushed myself along using the ground.  I was more 'scooting' than swimming at this point.  I soon reached deep enough water and found my stroke and a bit of a rhythm.  At this point the water was fairly calm where I was which was surprising.  I kept wondering if Gabe was right on my feet and how he was doing - hoping he was in this clearing and not having to deal with stray elbows, aggressive swimmers, and over zealous kickers.

I sighted infrequently as the chaos in front of me just confused me more than it helped.  There was the glare of the sun on the water, heads everywhere and since I was swimming between the buoy lines I felt there were buoys everywhere - to the right and left of me.  I knew I was headed in the right direction and I was confident that I was swimming a fairly straight line but still, to look forward was not overly helpful.  After several buoys had passed (still in clean water mind you) I started to worry that I was too far to the right and potentially in the way of the returning pros (by the way, this was definitely not possible but you think crazy things when you can't really tell what the heck is going on around you).  So I started to angle towards the buoy line.  I figured I had to be there eventually to navigate clockwise around the turn buoys so I might as well migrate.  

Well, migration and the buoy line equals more people.  Around buoy 10 (I don't know how many buoys were out there and I can't tell you exactly where buoy 10 was in relation to the distance on the course but I did see the number 10 on the side) is where chaos began.  I now found myself in the mix with everyone else.  I was passing people left and right, swerving around those that were getting freaked out by the sheer volume of athletes around them.  At the same time I felt like people were encroaching on me.  My legs were pushed down throwing off my stroke.  I was bumped from both sides.  At one point I went to breathe out of my right side and I saw a hand come down right on top of me and smack me square in the goggle.  A little water got in but luckily the suction held (later I would smack my own eye just to make sure there was accurate suction on that side).  There were times where I was swimming with my head completely out of the water, searching for an open area, anywhere that I could get to that wasn't where I was at that particular moment.

At some length I found that open area and got back into whatever semblance of a rhythm I could find.  Shortly thereafter, however, I reached the first turn buoy.  I was on the inside and expected pure chaos and potentially being squished against the large white buoy but the actual turn was relatively uneventful.  I basically bobbed around it like a human buoy - head completely out of the water and doing mini breast strokes just like everyone else.  This was not 'swimming'.  It took awhile before I was fully around the buoy and able to put my head back in the water and find my stroke again.  Heading into the middle of the lake and towards the next turn buoy you could feel the shift in the waves.  They were hitting from the side and made you feel more like a boat as you crested waves.  I actually enjoy that feeling and was probably the most comfortable during this short section of the course.

Soon we were upon the next turn buoy and it was time to head back into the beach.  The sun was straight ahead and you couldn't see much of anything so I focused on the image of the two  hotel towers that I knew were in the same general area as the finish and simply counted off the buoys.  Every time I passed a buoy I would sight to see if there was another one or if there was the beach.  The rhythm was there, the water fairly clean, and it seemed like buoys were just passing by at such a rapid pace.  I think I was finally SWIMMING.  

At one point I was joined by another female competitor to my right and we were swimming stroke for stroke.  This always entertains me.  It makes me wonder what she is thinking.  I wonder if she feels the same twinge of claustrophobia that I do, knowing that someone is so close to her.  I'm very conscious of keeping the space between me and other swimmers.  I don't mind them being close but I want to make sure they have the room (and I have the room) to swim normally.  Unfortunately another competitor (I can't remember if they were male or female) ruined our synchronization.  Basically they came from the left and they weren't swimming straight.  I was getting squished in the middle as this new person pushed me out the back.  I swerved around both of them, sprinting a bit just to get ahead, and then proceeded in my own little world.

Buoys ticked by and then I spotted the black swim exit sign.  I was close.  I swam in until my hands could touch the bottom which was still quite a ways out from the actual beach.  So I kept swimming.  People were popping up all around me since it was so shallow but I didn't want to trudge through the water.  At some point I felt like an idiot as I was breathing and seeing knees to my left and right so I stood and trudged with all the other athletes up the beach.  Everyone around me was walking.  My thought - Come on people this is a race!  Cap and goggles off, wetsuit already down to my waist and I ran the remainder of the way up the beach and across the timing mat into transition.

T1: 4:55

Ironman Volunteers are AWESOME!  I headed straight for the wetsuit strippers, laid on the ground, and was on my feet in seconds.  Next up, grab my transition bag (a little challenging as I kind of forgot where it was but they had the rows marked with the numbers) and then head into the change tent.  I found a seat right inside and plopped down to sort through my stuff.  Immediately I was greeted by a friendly volunteer asking if I wanted help.  Umm...sure.  

I handed her my Garmin and asked that she turn it on.  She didn't know how so I grabbed it back from her and proceeded to do that while she dumped out the contents of my bag.  Then she just started handing me stuff one at a time.  She opened the Slim Fast and told me to drink some - thanks Mom.  Then, after I dried off my feet, she held out my socks for me to slip my feet into just like a shoe salesman.  It was perfect.  Another sip of Slim Fast maybe?  Sure.  She helped me get my tri top on (I hate how those things roll up and get stuck about half way down) handed me by GU flask, spare tube, sun glasses, helmet...anything else?  Oh yes, Vaseline!  This is key because chaffing is bad...very very bad...and new tri shorts could be a potential issue.  I unceremoniously grabbed a bit and lubed the essential areas while apologizing to my little volunteer.  In her Australian accent she said, "Don't worry honey, we've seen it all today."  Out of the tent my bike was straight in front of me and I was out of T1.

Bike: 112 miles, 6:48:01, 16.5 mph, 67/143 Division Place, 1817/2890 Overall Place

Heading through town I tried to sit upright and keep my eye out for my parents as I knew they'd be lining Main Street somewhere.  Unfortunately they were nowhere to be found and I'm sure while I was passing them (they'd been right in town) I was focusing too hard on staying clear of all the other cyclists that were zooming down Main.  Oh well, time to ride.

I felt great!  My heart rate was right where it was supposed to be, the wind was at our backs, and I was flying.  I hit Skaha Lake and heard a cheer from Anna as I passed her (what an amazing swimmer!!) and settled into my second rhythm for the day - turning over the pedals and reciting the mantra that I learned from this recently anointed Ironman finisher, 'stupid easy'.  Granted, I didn't want to just 'hang out' on the bike and pretend like I was out for another training ride but I focused on heart rate and followed my plan.

Skaha Lake flew by and then I hit the first hill of the day heading up McLean Creek Road.  Stupid easy.  There was quite the backup in this little section as people blew up going up the hill.  It's not long but it's definitely steep and if you're not in the right gear I could see how it would be difficult.  Oddly enough, this was also a spot they picked to have the first aid station - right smack dab in the middle of the hill.  Convenient eh?  And to top that off, the Ironman Perform drink (the new drink for these races) was being served in a regular screw top bottle.  Now how in the heck are people on a bike supposed to use that?  Luckily I wasn't taking in any of that from the course but it made me worried for Gabe as his whole electrolyte plan was for the Perform they were providing (they figured it out in later aid stations).  I heard a lot of bitching in this section specifically for this reason and I have to say it was kind of warranted.

I'm pretty sure it was in this same area that Kyle caught me.  I remember hearing 'of all the athletes out here I have to come up on this one?!'  Ha!  We chatted briefly and then he was off.  Apparently some of us don't take our sweet time getting out of transition.  I'm just saying.

After the hill there is a steep descent into Okanagan Falls and then onto highway 97 headed towards Oliver.  This section is fairly flat and fast and there was quite a bit of passing and being passed.  It was also in this section that I saw a pretty gnarly crash.  Here's how it went down.  I was making a move to pass a girl at the same time as another girl was making the move to pass me.  We ended up three abreast right as we neared a cement construction barrier sitting right in the middle of the shoulder.  We all crept out ever so slightly (the road wasn't closed so there were cars) and the girl on the inside had plenty of room between me and the barrier but apparently not the bike handling skills to maneuver the situation.  I heard an 'uh oh' followed by a large crash.  I looked back briefly in time to see her aero water bottle flying through the air (ironic...sort of) and her bike basically on top of her.  I'm not sure if she hit the barrier full on or just slightly skimmed it.  By the sound of the crash it seemed more like she nailed it.  I considered stopping but with no shoulder to stop on I probably would have created another pile up so instead I prayed she was alright and pedaled on.

By the time I hit Oliver I was about 30 miles into the ride and I needed to make a pee stop.  Unfortunately I happened upon the porta pottie that EVERYONE was using.  I debated continuing on to the next one but I decided I would just wait it out and get the relief I was looking for.  Unlike my male counterparts who just found any orchard to pee in I had to stop at designated spots (actually, I think they were supposed to too but they could get away with it easier).  Again - volunteer to the rescue.  There was a lady there holding everyone's bike as they made their pit stop.

Minutes later I was back on the bike and pedaling towards Osoyoos.  This section of the course is beautiful if you stop (not literally) for a moment and take it all in.  You're zooming past orchard after orchard and vineyards abound.  It's gorgeous really and at some point in the nearish future I'd love to come up here and vacation in this spot.

Okay, back to racing.  Making the turn in Osoyoos, through the Husky station, and onto Highway 3 is really where the 'stupid easy' mantra rang out.  This is where you begin the long climb up Richter's Pass.  It's about a 6 mile stretch of climbing broken up into 4 major climbs (except in the elevation map below the first three seem to be considered 1 climb starting at mile 40.86).

I consider myself to be a good hill climber.  I have the right build for it and I'm comfortable just sitting upright (to get more oxygen), hands on the shoulder pads, and turning it over at a high cadence - not to mention I've built up quite a confidence about it.  In training rides I've been referred to as the 'billy goat'.  In our trial run on the same course a guy riding up Richter's at the same time turned to me and said, 'Man you make that look easy' as I blew by him.  That said, I tend to 'power' up hills because I like them and I like to attack them.  Six miles is a long time to be 'attacking' and not to mention I'm not even halfway through the course.  Hence 'stupid easy'.  I was still flying by people but I wasn't working hard.  Looking back at my heart rate I was keeping it about 6 beats lower than my previous ride up this hill.  Winning!  Cresting the final climb there are loads of spectators cheering.  I felt like I was in a real cycling tour - can you say Contador (or cocky, either one fits)?  At the top I even got a shout out from the announcer, "Meghan, you've got the best smile all day".  This lead to me hooting and hollering and high-fiving spectators until I almost crashed (and quickly blamed the spectator for causing me to swerve).

Yeah, that's a good smile if I do say so myself.

Still smiling, still spinning easily.  Nice kit!  By the way, I got that a few times throughout the day. Mostly from people wearing the identical outfit but also from other folks.

After the crest of Richter's it's a 4 mile screaming descent into the valley and onto the next section of rollers...or as we've referred to them in previous posts, 'the bitches'.  Again, I was ready for these and the mantra was still going strong in my head.  Change gearing, switch position, and spin up them.  I counted them off in my head one by one.  I believe I even said, "That was number 3" out loud.  Around bitch 7 I dropped my chain.  Bummer.  I tried the quick clicking through the gears to try and get it back on but it was a no go.  So, I un-clipped in the middle of this hill  and put the chain back on.  Then I had to wait a few seconds to let folks pass before trying to do the slow mount and get back in the game.

Bitches complete without much effort and now we're on to the out-and-back section.  This is the only part of the course that I didn't pre-ride and the only part of the course that was kind of lame.  The temperatures at this point were pretty high (don't know exactly but I heard talk of 95), there isn't any breeze as you're nestled up against the hill, and you don't feel like you're making progress towards the finish as you have to head BACK in the direction you just came from.  The only redeeming factors were the special needs grab bags (I had an instant ice pack stashed there that I popped and shoved down the front of my tri suit) and it was the only opportunity (other than being passed) that you could see many of your fellow competitors.  I was able to spot Kyle, Gina, Lora and Gabe.

Next up, Yellow Pass.  Riding the flats from the out-and-back to Yellow I swear I had a mild case of PTSD.  I kept thinking my rear tire was flat or that I heard a hissing noise.  Instead of looking I chose to ignore it (which is good because it was all in my head anyway).  I simply rode harder to get this bit over with.  As I neared the base of Yellow I could feel my legs starting to fatigue.  I was ready to be done with the ride and onto the next section.  "One last climb" I kept telling myself.  This go around up the hill was definitely harder than the two previous times.  My legs were barely turning over and I could feel the heat zapping my energy.  But, I turned the pedals over as best I could and sooner rather than later I was at the top and dousing myself in ice cold water.  

Another breathtaking section of the course if you have the frame of mind to take it in as you weave alongside a gorgeous lake.  Then it's another screaming descent, one last climb, and you're headed towards the other side of Skaha Lake and back into town.  It was on the last little climb at mile 103 that Gabe finally passed me.  We cheered each other on, he gave me the awesome update that he swam the course in 1:34, and then we parted ways.  I assumed I wouldn't see him again until the turn around point of the marathon and was already getting psyched to chase him down on the run.

As I neared the turn from Skaha Lake Road onto Main Street was when I felt my first cramps.  My right hip flexor was tightening up so I stood to stretch it out and my quads cramped, then my hamstrings cramped.  Crap!!  I sort of panicked and grabbed for the 'just in case' salt tabs in my bento box.  Tossed three of those back, chugged some liquid, and prayed they would go away.  Surprisingly they subsided.  It probably wasn't the salt but who knows.  I sat up for the majority of the ride through town to stretch out my back, neck and shoulders as well as to scope out my parents (who I found in front of the Super 8 - Woot!).  

T2: 5:05

Much the same as T1.  Volunteers take your bike immediately so I didn't have to worry about racking it in the appropriate spot - win.  I ran to my transition bag, grabbed it, and then headed into the change tent.  I'm pretty sure I had a volunteer to help me but for the life of me I couldn't really tell you about the exchange between us.  It probably went something like this, Me: "Mutter, mutter, mutter.", Volunteer: "Here you go, blah, blah, blah.", Me: "Mutter, mutter, thank you (head nod), mutter, mutter.".  I do recall asking where the nearest porta pottie was as I was feeling pretty bloated and luckily it was just outside the change tent as you're on the way out of transition (btw, no benefit).  After the blue bucket stop I was shuffling past the water station when a volunteer held out a cup and asked, "Would you like some water?"  Me, being in an odd, alternate-world, state of mind I replied, "Oh yeah, that sounds good, thank you."  Gulp, okay moving on.  Wait...is that my name I hear?  I turn around and there is Gabe about 4 feet behind me.  I was ecstatic!  (Me = speedy transition + Gabe = slow transition) = starting the run together.  Yes, I added the parentheses to make it more mathematically correct.

Run: 26.2 miles, 5:20:37, 12:15 min/mile, 83/143 Division Place, 1555/2890 Overall Place

Upon leaving transition you head out Main Street for a few blocks then head West for a short out-and-back section along the water (to be repeated later when you are finishing).  Gabe and I were chatting and feeling tired but otherwise pretty good (if we ignore the fact that I was still bloated).  I figured said issue would settle down after I A) made another bathroom stop or B) whatever was stuck absorbed into my system.  Wait and see...

We ran past strangers cheering, we ran past Judy cheering (thanks Judy for being there!), and we headed out of the main downtown area.  The 'plan' was to walk at every mile/aid station and consume fluids and nutrition during those times.  In between was a steady jog.  That remained the plan for all of 2 miles at which point both Gabe and I realized it was SMOKING HOT and we could feel the energy quickly leaving us.  So walking became more frequent.  We would run a half mile or so, then walk for about 30 seconds, then run to the aid station, chew ice cubes, sip Coke, steal as many ice water soaked sponges as possible, and then move on.

As we made our way on Main Street we could feel the heat coming off the pavement.  At this point it was probably around 3:30 PM and the hottest part of the day - whatever those temperatures might have been.  We passed the Super 8 and waved at our family and continued South, praying for cooler weather once we hit Skaha Lake.  There was absolutely no shade.  The goal at this point was simply make it to 6 miles - this would be half way to the half way point.  A very tangible goal.

We hit the edge of Skaha Lake and were greeted by cheers from John and Polly.  Sidenote - it is such a welcome change of pace to see people you know cheering for you.  Sure, the rest of the spectators do an amazing job, but to have those dedicated friends goes a long way to making your day spectacular.  The lake gave off a bit of a breeze but not nearly enough to cool down.  What it DID offer, however, were tiny bits of shaded sections.  Trees that lined the lake became my destination points and my walking points.  At a few aid stations I tried to relieve the bloating but to no avail.  I'm pretty sure if the porta potties weren't 200 degrees inside and I wasn't rushing so Gabe wouldn't get too far ahead then maybe, just maybe.  But alas, such was not the current reality.  So, I'd try to go then I'd shuffle to catch up with Gabe, we'd run for a bit and I'd get increasingly bloated, I'd think I could have success, stop, bloating would go away.  It was a fun little game I played for the entirety of the run. 

Somewhere on our way 'out' we came across Rusty looking fantastically strong.  Shortly thereafter we saw Kyle running confidently.  The cheers for each other were meager at best given our energy levels but they were heartfelt nonetheless.  Other than seeing them there wasn't too much excitement.  I made friends at porta potties (others were as bloated as I was), I drank sips of Coke (none of my gels made it to my mouth during this run - solids of any kind weren't going down the hatch because I just couldn't fathom getting MORE bloated), sips of pickle juice to relieve even a hint at cramps, and I listened to Gabe reason about how we were almost to the turnaround and if we could just get to mile 20 he could comprehend only running a 10k.  He obviously did most of the talking as I was too focused on my gut and moving steadily forward.  Shaded spot to shaded spot, aid station to aid station, one mile at a time.

At the turnaround I grabbed the instant ice pack out of my special needs bag and once again shoved it down the front of my tri top.  I was so overheated that I don't think I even really noticed the cooling but what else was I going to do with it?  We were, at last, at the turnaround point!  Like horses to the barn we trudged back although I don't think any faster than on our way out.  It was in the next few miles that we saw familiar faces - Carol, Gina, Lora, Anna, Andrea, Jeanette and Roxie.  Everyone was smiling, everyone had made it this far and I was confident they were going to make it the rest of the way.  It is indescribable how it felt to see everyone out on the course.  Even now I get chills of excitement for everyone.

The miles, at this point, become a blur.  I remember the sun FINALLY dipping behind a distant mountain and the welcome relief of the shade.  Awesomeness #1.  At mile.... I don't know where...they brought out cups of warm chicken broth seasoned with heaven (note to future self: do not combine swigs of Coke with swigs of chicken broth - they do not go together).  Awesomeness #2.  Gabe continued to pick walking points for us.  His knee was starting to bother him so he'd stride it out and I'd shuffle after him.  I didn't have to think.  I didn't even have to talk.  Awesomeness #3.  During this run/walk phase we kept leap frogging a woman wearing the Newton tri kit.  Gabe would get ahead of her, I'd stay behind her, and when he'd turn around he was always confused to see her instead of me.  At one point, when we finally progressed enough to pass her for good she said, "Oh good, now your husband won't look back and get confused anymore".  

As we neared town the new mantra became 'Finish before the glow sticks'.  Every time Gabe would say it I would say 'what?'.  Either he was mumbling or I just couldn't understand anything.  He repeated it over and over again.  With about 4 miles to go we started to pick up the pace.  We were still picking points to stop and walk but in between we were actually running and the points became further and further apart.  Entering the heart of town my breathing became labored.  I'm not sure if it was ACTUALLY labored or if I was just emitting a groan.  Either way, it was helping me get through the last few miles.  With a little over a mile to go you see the finish line but then you veer away from it to do that short out-and-back along the water.  At this point it was not 'short'.  It felt like forever.  When we hit the turn around point I forced Gabe to walk a few paces.  My feet were starting to stiffen up and hint at cramping and I wanted to make sure I could actually run across the finish line.

All that was left was the run from the turnaround to the finishing chute.  I had the presence of mind to stay a good distance behind a few folks in front of us - allowing them to have their time to shine as they crossed the line AND giving us an awesome finishing photo.  Gabe had the presence of mind to get on my left so we could hold hands as we crossed (I was holding the pickle juice bottle in my right and I didn't have the presence of mind, obviously, to just change hands).  We crossed with our hands held high, smiles on our faces, and the cheering from the crowds in our ears.  I failed to hear "Meghan Manaois (butchered as expected) you are an Ironman" over the loudspeaker but oh well, my day wasn't about that.

Oh wait...there's more.  Well, not really.  Just that the volunteers grabbed us, escorted us to the pictures and then the food line and ensured that we were okay before leaving.  I stood in the food line on the verge of passing out and grabbed an unappetizing slice of pizza before finding a seat in the family area.  For some reason I was sort of freaked out to relax.  I felt so incredibly spacey and out of it.  I wandered around pretty aimless for about a half hour, slowly chewing my pizza the whole time.  My mom and I tried to get into the medical tent (just in case) but the volunteer outside told me they were full - that could have been a problem if I really needed the medical tent.  After some time Gabe and I went to pick up our gear, handed off the bags to my parents, and then rode our bikes back to the car - so much faster!  Surprisingly that felt good.

Back at the hotel we showered, donned compression tights, and watched the live feed on TV - seeing Roxie cross the finish line!  Then it was time to eat.  This is the last little bit of the story, I promise.  All I wanted was a Blizzard from Dairy Queen.  It was just down the street so Gabe, Kyle and I headed that way.  Right as we got in front of the restaurant the lights went out - closed!  Okay, Burger King, it's just a little further.  Same frigging thing!  We got within 10 feet of the door and the lights went out - closed.  I think we did that one more time and then finally settled on the Safeway.  As we pondered what to eat I slowly started to feel like crap.  I needed food, and I needed it ASAP.  So I sat down at the coffee shop inside and chugged orange juice before venturing back to the Super 8.

One LONG ASS DAY!

Pre-Race Wanderings

One more post to go before the race report - bare with me.  Oh the things you have to do to prepare for an Ironman.  The lists go on, and on, and on.  Thankfully I AM a list person or else this would have been a disaster!  And by 'list person' I mean I created an Excel spreadsheet that laid out the dates and times that I needed to do something, be somewhere, or eat something.  That's right...I went THAT far.

It's not my fault really.  The idea came from my friend Mike who happens to be doing Ironman Wisconsin tomorrow - GO MIKE!  He had his whole race day plan laid out in a spreadsheet.  I just took it one step further and planned all the way out to Thursday.  It went a little something like this:

Thursday
9 AM - Take dog to kennel
10 AM - Hit the road for Canada
2:30 PM - Check into hotel and relax (yes, I schedule 'relaxing' time)
5 PM - Short ride/run - check gearing and breaks.

Friday
6 AM - Small breakfast
7 AM - Short swim in Okanagan Lake
8 AM - Second breakfast
10 AM - Registration
6 PM - Athlete Dinner
7:30 PM - Mandatory Meeting

You get my point (trust me, Sunday's schedule was even worse as it had the times I was expecting to be at certain mileage points and when I should be consuming calories).  So, back to list making, packing, and race prep.  I had this other great idea to put all of my racing clothes in separate bags so when I actually had to pack my transition bags up in Canada it would simply be moving items from one bag to the other.  I wouldn't have to think and freak out in the hotel room and I could organize it all in the comfort of my own house.  BRILLIANT!  So I laid out 2 bags each for both Gabe and I and proceeded to pack up essential Swim-to-Bike and Bike-to-Run gear.  Oh yeah, and the bags were labeled as such.  Then there was a 'special needs' bag which basically had anything we'd want to put in either special needs bags on the course.  A water bottle bag (regular water bottles, hand held running water bottles, gel flasks, etc...) and a nutrition bag (GU Brew, Cliff Bars, a Ziploc bag filled with gels, caffeinated drinks, electrolyte pills, GU Brew and NUUN tabs) rounded out the race bag count.  The only things remaining were two small suitcases with 'regular clothes', our bikes, our wetsuit bags (packed with everything needed for the swim start), the bike pump and snacks.  Oh yeah the fan (in case the room air conditioner was broken or noisy), the microwave, and the hot plate (more on those later).

Now before I get to the expo and other such pre-race activities let me just share with you Gabe's train of thought as we packed our bags.  Gabe: 'What are we planning on eating/drinking during the bike?'  Me: 'Whatever we trained with so I'll have gels and Cliff bars, GU Brew and Coke.'  Gabe: 'That's not enough.  What are they serving on the course?'  Me: 'Ironman Perform which is like Gatorade and PowerBar Gels.'  Gabe: 'Okay, I'll do that.'  Me: 'But you haven't trained with it.'  Gabe: 'Let's go to REI and get some and we'll test it out over the next few days (said on Monday)'.  Me: 'But just drinking the Perform while standing around isn't the same as racing and drinking it.'  Gabe: 'I never have stomach issues so I'm sure it won't be a big deal, plus, how else were you planning on getting enough to drink and eat?'  Me: '......!!!!!!!.......!!!!!!'

So, what did we do?  We headed down to REI and bought Gabe a ton of random gels (mostly with caffeine in them) and the Ironman Perform drink.  For me, I bought NUUN and GU Brew tabs.  I figured I would rehydrate on the bike with the water they were handing out and drop tabs into my aero bottle as I went (for the electrolytes) and I would stick with the gels and Cliff Bars like I had done in training.  I assumed I was safe going with the GU Brew tabs as they had the same ingredients as the powder counterpart that I had trained with all year.  Oh yeah, and we also bought Gabe a brand new outfit which I balked at.  Nothing new on race day!!!!  He was violating every rule I knew and not listening to a word I was saying.  Well...actually he listened slightly and backed off the extreme gel switch up once we sat down and discussed how things (GI wise) could go very, very wrong.

Packing - done, last minute changes - done, time to drive up to Penticton.  The drive is boring.  Let's just leave it at that.  We took the more direct northern route.  I slept quite a bit which is pretty typical and we listened to the Ironman soundtrack I made (more on that later).  We arrived in Penticton around 3ish (we left a little later than 'the plan'), did a quick check-in at the Super 8 on Main St. and then headed straight for the registration tent down on the water.  This was a wonderful idea!  There was no line (on Friday the line was ridiculous) and we were in an out in minutes with all of our gear bags tucked nicely into the Ironman Canada backpack we were given.  Done and done.  Back to the hotel for a bit of air conditioned relaxing (the temperature was 91, a bit hot for this gal) and then a short ride/run later in the evening.

The ride later felt great.  My back wasn't bothering me, my legs felt rested, and it just felt easy.  All good signs.  Dinner that night was a bit later than expected which left us with fewer options.  We settled on a Japanese restaurant that was just okay.  Then off to bed.

Friday morning we headed to the lake with Kyle for our short swim.  Everyone else had the same idea but since the lake and beach are huge we had plenty of open water to swim in.  The lake temperature was great and I enjoyed the rocking motion of the waves as they headed into the beach.  The rest of the day was free to do as we pleased.  After breakfast we headed back to the expo where I promptly bought my first full tri kit (which I later wore for the race...'yes', I'm a hypocrite) which I LOVE!  We also relaxed in the shade while waiting for our first session of ART (Active Release Technique) consultation/massage/chiropractic work.  I had no idea what I was getting into but put my name in for the free treatment based on a suggestion from Mark.  I figured they would be able to do something for my back and my inner thigh.  Assumption correct!  After about 30 minutes of excruciating pain I stood up and felt wonderful.  My back felt loose and my inner thigh felt sore to the touch but loose nonetheless.  Sign me up for the next day (yes, we did it both Friday and Saturday).

That evening we had the athlete dinner and mandatory meeting.  Food...eh, meeting...uninformative but at least it gave me the opportunity to catch up with my fellow Bellingham training partners and scope out the competition (ha! Yeah right like I was actually 'competing' in this race).  I was simply impressed with the amount of athletes at this event.  2890 is a huge number and looking out over the crowds it was even more impressive.  Not to mention the 3 competitors that had done this particular race 27 times - that's every time except 1!  Amazing, crazy, stupid - all those words come to mind.

Saturday brought more relaxing, more expo shopping resulting in the purchase of a white cap (my head gets so incredibly hot because of my dark hair) and CEP compression sleeves, and stressing out about packing the gear bags.  That's right, the pre-packing didn't assuage my panic.  I didn't freak out completely but when you have a time limit (both swim-to-bike and bike-to-run gear bags along with the bike needed to be in by 4 PM) AND you feel like you should be relaxing that inevitably leads to stress for me.  But, it all got done.  For those that appreciate checklists here's what went into each bag.

Swim to Bike
- Helmet 
- Sunglasses
- Tri top (I didn't want to swim with it since the water temp was already warm and I knew that I would have volunteers to help me put it on)
- Bike shoes open and ready to put my feet into
- Socks nicely rolled down to ease in putting them on
- Vaseline for anti chaffing purposes
- Hand towel to wipe off my feet
- Extra tube in two latex gloves (this would be spare #2 as the first spare was on my bike)
- Gel flask with 5 chocolate flavored GUs diluted a bit with water
- A can of Slimfast was adding the morning of the race to consume after the swim.

Bike to Run
- Hat
- Running shoes with speedlaces
- Vaseline
- Another pair of socks 
- An 8 oz Fuel Belt hand-held water bottle filled with pickle juice
- 5 chocolate flavored GUs

 

Test run of the tri kit before stuffing it in the Swim to Bike bag - it made the cut.

 

Gabe's race number fit nicely on his seat post, mine I stuck to the top tube right next to the seat.

Bags dropped off, bikes racked, transition scoped out it was time to eat and relax for the rest of the evening.  Let me first mention that I took a special trip to Goodwill prior to this race to purchase a hot plate.  Our room didn't have a kitchen so we just brought our kitchen to it.  We brought both our microwave (you're welcome Kyle) and the new hot plate.  And, we used them!  Our lunch Saturday afternoon was spaghetti made right in our very own room.  My parents even brought over a nice loaf of French bread.  Klassy!
 

Chef Gabe mixing up a pot of delicious spaghetti.

Dinner came shortly after lunch since we wanted to get in and out before the throng of athletes made the wait unbearable.  We headed to Boston's just down the street from the hotel.  Since I just had spaghetti I opted for the fairly bland French Dip with a side of yam fries.  Not sure if I mentioned this in my race report from Chelanman but this was the same meal I had the night before that race - seemed like a safe bet.

After dinner it was back to the hotel to call it a night.  Showered, sunscreened, special needs bag, dry clothes bag, and wetsuit bag prepped and ready, another batch of pasta prepared for any late night hunger, and lights out at 8 PM.  Next thing on the plan - race day!  Go team Starbuck!!

 

Our pasta cake!