Ironman Recap Part III: Going the Distance

 
Loop 2

As I finished loop 1, the race announcer says over the PA system, "Peter Urmston, you have 2 hours and 25 minutes to make the 9:15 cut off time." Two hours and twenty-five minutes? I know I could do that. It took me less time to finish this first loop.


So I tried running in that first mile of the second loop and it still wasn't happening, but I felt a big sigh of relief for having finished the first loop. I walked to the first aid station content knowing I was going to make the 9:15 cutoff time. I started to think it would be really cool if I finished with just one minute left, or less. I would get so much sympathy applause it would be crazy. Somewhere between mile 2 and 3 I started to panic again. If I take 2 hours and 25 minutes to finish loop two, that would only leave me 2 hours to finish the final lap.What if something went wrong and I didn't make the time?  That's where I decided I really wanted to finish this thing; that I wasn't going to mess around, and I was going to figure out a way to "try that running thing everyone else was doing." 


I had established a good system for cooling down. Luckily there was still a large supply of ice at the aid stations. I would wrap ice in the Cool Wrap cloth thing that Jill Urmston gave me, and put it on my neck. The rest of the ice went down the pants, and I'd drink whatever I could. I hoped this would help because I was determined to run.


First 60 steps running then 60 walking, but I would walk all the hills. Next thing I knew I was putting together 120 steps running. A few people helped along the way. There was a volunteer who seemed to be everywhere and he would say, "looking good uranium!" There was a mom and her to kids. They must have been in first and third grade. I told them a joke along the way and then the loop back. "Why are there no Ironman races in Africa? Too many lion cheetahs." The last time I passed, the little kid had a joke, "Why did the TRex cross the road? Because the chicken wasn't invented yet." There were the dudes, at the top of the loop, who started their party during the first loop. By third loop, you could hear them cheering from 1/2 a mile away. They were screaming as loud as they could, and doing the wave as runners went by. I finished the second loop 10 minutes faster than the first. As I finished the second loop I remembered that they were giving out glow sticks to people running in the dark. By this time it was dark and nobody had given me a glow stick.I felt jipped.


Loop 3
Loop 3 was dark and lonely. I was running/walking fine and my mind turned to my family. Porter who had recently told us he had found a girl and they were going to be married. Tanner who was away in Peru, who I would like to run a marathon with someday. I wished he was there pacing me like he did at the end of my first marathon. Garrett who was going to college and Talmage who would now be the lone offspring in the house. I thought about my brothers, their wives, and my parents. I would not be hurt or surprised if they weren't there at the end. They had already been there a long time. Deep in thought I had a bright shining moment when the dude drove up in his truck holding the glowstick neclace out the window. He told me to take more than one because I was the only one running out here. I passed the crazy party guys who, by this time, had trouble doing the wave without falling down, but they were even louder now. I came through the last aid station and the guys were now cooking sausages on a hot plate. All along I would randomly burst into tears. As I came to the last mile, all the spectators were gone, the cones had been picked up, and as I ran through the residential street, I heard a solo clapping. I started crying again. Then I told myself to think of something funny, and get it together. I was not going to get the sympathy cheers from everybody at the end, AND cry. I came up to the last stretch and started my last 60 steps of running. The only problem was I started my sprint too early. After 60 steps I still had about 20 more steps to finish. My legs were used to the 60 steps running then walking by now, so my calves started cramping up after 60 steps, and I limped across the finish.


The Finish
I don't know what happened to me. I came across the finish. They gave me a medal. I could see Elaine go by, and my brothers, and parents. They took off the timing chip, which took a bit because I couldn't stand up very well. When I walked over to Elaine, I gave her a hug and then the strangest thing came over me and I just started bawling. I am pretty sure I was totally exhausted, physically and emotionally, and it all just caught up with me. However, I could not believe that my parents were still there. I expected them to have gone back to the house. I was very grateful for them, and the others, for supporting me. In the end, my takeaway from this event is, 1) you can't fake being an ironman. If you don't put in the training, you shouldn't expect to succeed, and 2) I felt like running to the finish may be a little like running in to Heaven. I now believe that the "Pearly Gates" are actually a finish line tape, and all our loved ones there are cheering us in, not sympathy cheers, but total empathy. They will know what it takes to get there. I'll run to Open Arms and start bawling from exhaustion and relief.

Ironman Recap Part II: Hopeless, Bleak, Despair

(Author's note: I've tried to self edit the hyperbole and exaggerations of this narrative. I've written my true experience the way I remember it.)

Chalk Hill got it's name because, over the 25 years of the Vineman Ironman, spectators have written participants name in chalk on the road. During the first loop, when I felt so good, I passed a bunch of people. I did notice, however, that my name was not written anywhere on the road. If I ever did this again, I would go write myself a message on the night before. I know if I had that idea this year I would have written my mantra and "Urmanium, there is still hope."

Chalk Hill Part Deux

I arrived at the base of Chalk Hill thinking if I could just get over this hill, I'll almost be done. So I put my bike in the lowest gear and started spinning. After a while, I went from spinning the pedals, to rolling, to turning, to churning, to pushing, to stagnating. I realized that if I didn't stand I would just fall over to the side. So as I stood, the "guitar strings" tightened. Luckily I got out of my pedals to put my feet down. Then both my legs cramped from my toes to my thighs; I could not move. (Right here you might want to cue up "High Hopes" sung by Frank Sinatra, but it would probably by better to cue Hopeless, Bleak, Despair by They Might Be Giants.) I don't want to make any comparisons to pregnancy, so imagine the pain of the worst calf cramp that woke you up in the middle of the night and multiply that by all the muscle groups from your toes to your thighs in both legs, then multiply that by a number that would lead you to yell, cuss, scream, and cry all at the same time, then try to walk to the shade of a tree so you can rest but you don't move, except for your eyeballs rolling back in your head. There I stood; hopeless. I can't even walk up this hill. I think I'm done.

There was another guy parked on Chalk Hill just like me, but he actually moved to me. He gave me some sodium and potassium pills. Well, he told me they were potassium. This is how desperate I was; I took drugs from a stranger.  We stood there together to let the drugs take effect, we watched other cyclist suffer past us(their names were probably written somewhere in chalk), and then we walked up together. My drug dealer took off once we reached the top, but I had stay up top to make sure my legs were functioning before I descended. So it was "all down hill" from there. Don't get the idea I didn't suffer the last 14 to 16 miles. The route passes a cemetery and it looked like comfortable alternative; a nice final resting place.

The Run

I got in and out of transition 2 as quickly as possible. I changed my clothes because I was sick of that sticky, stinky triathlon top. So I changed to the Urmanium shirt for strength, and my lucky United Rentals hat, I had found on a training run in the almond orchards, for luck.

I knew my cheering squad was just at the start of the run so I thought I would give it a try. The legs seized again as I reach Elaine, "it's going to be a late night." It was around 4:30pm.

Loop 1
The marathon is divided in three loops and people were talking about how, worse case scenario, they could still walk and make the 11:15pm cut off time. I figured, if I wasn't running, I was going to have to joke my way through this thing. A lot of people were walking so they had to listen. Most conversations were about the bike and the Sun. I told people I was considering sitting down until the sun went down and then run as fast as I could. Most people didn't catch the sarcasm and told me that this was a bad plan. I walked with a dude from a team of 25 who came from Hawaii. Together we questioned the calculations for walking the whole thing and determined that it wasn't going to be that easy; there would have to be some running involved.

When I got to the first aid station I yelled, "DO YOU HAVE ANY HOT COCOA?!" This was my joke at each aid station on the first half of the loop. I used the variation, "Is there any soup, I'm freezing?" Most people thought this was funny. I got one teenage girl who looked at her friend, rolled her eyes, and mumbled something about "weird" and "so hot outside". Her friend told her it was a joke. After the first half of the loop the joke was over because you loop through the same aid stations, so I started making calculations, and the joke really was over. I realized that I was going to have to start running at some point. I tried running but kept cramping. I ran a couple times for 60 steps then I finished the first loop. As I finished loop 1, the race announcer says over the PA system, "Peter Urmston, you have 2 hours and 25 minutes to make the 9:15 cut off time.

To Be Continued

Ironman Recap 2014 Part I: DDNF

At the mandatory prerace orientation, the race director asked if anyone was worried about the heat for the next day's race. There were some mumbles and nervous comments. All anyone knew is it was going to be a hot day. He then proceeded to list the cutoff times. As a joke, I took out my little notebook and wrote down the cutoff for the 2nd loop of the run--9:15pm. It was funny at the time.

Saturday morning we were up early going through our preparations and excited for the day. We were staying in a house less than a mile away so we rode our bikes to the start. I found my rack and started getting everything ready. A volunteer came by with his sharpie marking race numbers for people. I knew I was in good spirits because I had him put a happy face in the zero of my number 607. I really had no idea how things would go. Deep in my heart I hoped I could have a better time than 5 years ago, outwardly I expressed that I didn't even deserve to finish, but this was contrary to my mantra for the race--DDNF. One thing I knew; the day would be long. And at the same time, I had no clue.

The Swim

The swim was pretty uneventful. I had a couple goggle malfunctions. I had put my goggles on top of my swim cap and didn't really get a good suction, so I switched it at some point during the swim. Luckily the river was shallow and I could just stand up to switch it. There were some nice relaxing times where I got a

good site on the bouys and got lost in thought, but at a few points, the course narrowed and it got crowded. I'm pretty sure I was swimming straight. I felt great at the end of the swim, it was slower than before, but I had been doing a lot more bike training. I got out of the swim, a volunteer helped pull off my wetsuit, and off I went for a quick transition.

The Bike

I was confident a functioning bike would not be my problem on this race. Just a short week or two before, it started falling apart. My seatpost broke on one ride, my handlebar tape was falling off, I needed a new chain, and worst of all was my front derailleur shifter broke.(I just wrote derailleur correctly without spell check because I learned a lot about derailleurs.) Anyway, I decided since I had a triple chainring, and I could at least shift between two, I would be OK. And I was OK. The bike is two loops for 112 miles. I felt so great on the first loop that I decided I would go for it. I kept up my nutrition fine, and as long as I felt good, I peddled away. I finished the first loop more than a mph faster than planned, Elaine and the rest of the group were surprised to see me so early, and I was thinking that I had a good buffer for the second loop when it would start to get hotter.  This was my big mistake.
I still felt great when I picked up my special needs bag. I was so excited to pick up my peanut butter sandwich and the frozen Coke I stored away. I knew I was in trouble when I couldn't eat the sandwich. I threw half of it away. I was going a little slower, but I still felt fine as I reached mile 70-80. Then the little things started to bother me. Why is my hand so sticky? Why can't I zip the zipper on my shirt down? Why is everybody cheering for this Lisa girl? Why haven't I reached the next aid station yet? What is with this headwind? Why are these sunglasses so dirty? Why am I going so slow? Why does my bike keep shifting by itself? Why does this gel taste so gross? Why are my drinks all warm? Then, Is that a cramp in my thigh? Yes, that is a cramp. Next thing I knew both thighs were cramping. I drank more of my drink mix with sodium and potassium. Everything just got tighter and tighter, like the tuning of a guitar string.

At the aid station just before the big climb, Chalk Hill, I got off my bike and tried to stretch out and cool down. Then a truck drove up with a racer and his bike in the back. The racer got out and went to sit in a chair. The driver radioed the SAG van to come pick him up and take him back in to town. I started to think that maybe I could get in the van with him. It would be so easy and nobody would really blame me. I don't know if I can finish this thing. I shouldn't be out here in the first place. I even said out loud to the highschool girl who was volunteering. "I'm thinking I could just get in the van with this guy and go." Earlier, she was looking into my face and asking me if I was OK. She said, "No, you don't want to do that." "Yea, but Chalk Hill is coming up and my legs. I have no legs." She says, "You are going to finish this race. Don't DNF." When she said my mantra, "DDNF" , I knew I was going on. So on I went to Chalk hill.


TO BE CONTINUED

Week 6: Nice Try:(

This week I got back in to training. The cough kind of went away. I missed Tuesday and Saturday. The worst thing was Saturday was supposed to be a long bike ride that I missed. I did ride my bike outside again. I went and ran after work out in the foothills. It was fun. I just started running.

I'll try next week to get all of them in and I think it's time to register.

Week 3

Monday: #37 swim &  Run 45min
Tuesday: Trans- bike 30 & run 15min
Wednesday: Swim #33 & Bike 45
Thursday: Run 60 minutes
Friday: Bike 1:45
Saturday: Run 60 minutes

Week 2

I missed one day this week, Wednesday. I don't remember now why I missed. It was a run, 45 minutes. I did the rest of the training. I had a cough all week. I don't know if it is strep or allergies.

Monday- Swim #35 and Run 30 minutes
Tuesday- Trans 30 min bike 15 run
Wednesday- missed 45 minute run
Thursday- Swim #36 --Bike 30min
Friday- run 1hr
Saturday-Bike 90 minutes

The best was my Friday run. I found a place nearby my work near the hills. It was fun to discover it. So I'm going to give me. So I get paid $6 no bonus.

Tri Again

I'm going to Tri this year. I'm not sure how committed I am to this so I thought I would start writing here. I did complete a full week of training this week. I liked the swimming the most. I've decided that I'm going to pay myself for training--$1 an hour, plus a bonus if I get a full week's training. So this week I made $10 and I rewarded myself with the purchase of a big can of Gatorade powder.