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