Its the day after my Half Ironman. I am actually not too tired (I went to bed at 7), my feet are still a little tender, and my knees and shoulders are pretty achy. I am surprised that my shoulders, neck, and biceps are the most sore parts of my body (but they also didn’t get the ice bath). So how did I get here? Here being Monday as I eat pizza and drink my 8th cup of coffee (just for the creamer). Well it’s a funny story.
9 Months ago I sat in a van with 6 other people, little to no sleep, in the middle of running 200+ miles. Let me say that this is not the time that decisions should be made, you are all hopped up on endorphins, lack of sleep, and compression socks. I, with 2 of my friends decided that we were going to do Ironman Arizona 70.3 and we were taking Scott with us. When you are 9 months out and lacking sleep 70.3 miles doesn’t sound like a big deal. It is a big deal… ask the blister on my big toe.
So we trained. And trained. And trained. Bitched and trained some more (as the boys looked on and laughed from the donut shop). We woke up before the sun, we forced clif bars down while we stared lovingly at beer bottles, we went to bed early instead of going out with friends, and we enjoyed 99.9% of it (0.1% just wanted to sleep in and drink a beer).
It felt like race day took
FOR.EV.ER. to get here but also somehow snuck up on us. I told Heather about a week ago, I can’t believe it’s only a week away… I somehow want to wait another 3 months but I also want to be done and crossing that finish line.
Saturday I attained my goal of doing as little as possible while eating as much as possible. I checked my bike in, picked up more nutrition, packed my bags, and then sat back to enjoy my pre-race meal and watch football. I went to bed around 7pm and slept amazingly until around 3:00am. I woke at 3am rested and feeling pumped, I still had another hour before I needed to get up so I willed myself to go back to sleep. That was a bad idea, I ended up having a bad nightmare that I had gotten off course at my race and it took my two days to complete it. I was furious at everyone in my dream!! I woke up mad and ready to study my race maps for the 100th time.
We packed the car, I ate my oatmeal in mostly silence and drank my last cup of black coffee. When we arrived in Tempe the crowds and excitement started to get to me. The energy was so uplifting I was ready to jump in the lake right then and there. It looked like the weather was going to hold and we started laying out our transitions. Of course I had my normal lube up the chassis moment. Spandex? Check. Lube? Check. Hand in pants? Check. Family trying to take pictures of their athlete who is behind you while you have your hand in your pants? Double check. Dignity? Long gone my friend, long gone
Once transition closed we were lined up in a corral by wave, luckily Heather was in my corral so I was able to have her as my safety blanket. The music was loud, people were excited and because I have done 3 triathlons at this venue everything felt normal. I wasn’t nervous, this wasn’t anything new. Ok I had to get in 70.3 miles but I knew this patch of concrete, I knew the stairs, and I was used to the swim start. I just needed to swim a mile and get to my bike, I knew that’s when the real work would start. I am swimmer by nature and sometimes I feel like my race doesn’t start until I am out of the water.
Before we knew it they were calling our wave up the stairs where we would jump feet first into the drudges of Tempe Town Lake. I lined myself up at the front so I would get a good posittion and not have to fight as much to get out in front. We had 5 minutes before our gun went off and I was shoved, pushed, and kicked more in that 5 minutes that I have been during an entire swim. Girls were vicious about getting to the front. I had one girl grab my should and push me behind her. Now I am not a fighter, I say sorry if somebody accidently knocks into me but I was ready to pull off my hoop earings and put my hair into a ponytail for a fight. I was so mad. I don’t see the need to push and shove just to get to the front. Much less in a body of water surrounded 45 other people. I decided to let people shove and kick as I worked my way towards the back. The gun went off and off we went. I found a nice open spot to the outside where I was free to swim without worrying about other people, I put my face in the water and did the job I had come out there to do. My swim felt good, my pull was long and felt strong (Down to get the friction on? Sorry. That was bad.) . I wasn’t looking at my watch and just went with feel. The water was choppy, it was like getting thrown around in a washing machine. I eventually started to pass cap colors that had jumped in before me and made my way to the front. I knew I wasn’t going to be breaking any records or finishing in the top of my age group but I still wanted to have a solid time. I ended up getting out of the water in 45 minutes. I couldn’t belive that, that is 15 additonal minutes to any swim I have done before. I talked to a few others and they said the same thing, choppy water and longer than anticipated. I climbed up the step, sucked in my stomach (I had decided to just wear my shorts and a sports bra) gave a wave to the camera and ran into transition.
I like to take my time in transition, it lets me catch my breath and refocus on my next task. I dried off, grabbed some food, grabbed my bike and headed out. The bike felt really good, I knew this course and I was ready to push myself and make it my bitch. The universe must have heard that and thought meh, lets drop her down a few pegs. I made the climb up mill and noticed that bikers were not coming back on Mill, they were going under the bridge. Waaaaait a second, we have never gone under the bridge before, whats under the bridge? Trolls are under bridges… sonofabitch. So I went under the bridge, turns out there are no trolls but a very nice couple dressed in unicorn leggings with horse heads on, dancing and cheering. On the other side of the bridge is a ass kicker of a hill. Screw that hill, stupid hill with its stupid face. Everytime I came around that corner there were 10-15 people out of the saddle, huffin, puffing, and using the F word like a comma. At the top of the hill was a very nice volunteer yelling at the athletes to keep going, PUSH!!!! DON’T STOP!!! GO! GO! GO!. I finally made it up the hill then of course I had to turn and climb again, then a quick downhill, another big but steady climb, a hair pin turn to pucker up your butthole a little bit, screaming downhill, aid station, big climb back up. By the time I made it back to mill I was not super happy about having to make that trek 2 more times. I tried not to think about it was 56 miles but as 3 loops instead. 3 sounds waaaay better than 56. As I made the second loop I felt something in my nether regions shift and slide (not what are you are thinking, dirty bastards). My bike seat had come loose and I was tilting very far backwards, I felt like I was riding a horse that was rearing.
You know what's not graceful? Trying use your nether regions to push your saddle back down into a flat position.
Not the most comfortable ride in the world. I had already seen 2 bike techs roaming the course so I knew if I could find them again, they would have an allen wrench that I could steal (I will be putting one in my flat kit now). I finally found a guy around mile 35, he tightened my seat and off I went. The 2-3 minutes off the bike was a godsend, my back didn’t hurt any more, I could feel my feet and hands again, and my legs no longer felt like jello. I decided then that went I came back by the aid station during loop 3 I would take another 2-3 minutes, get off my bike, get some cold water, and regroup. Loop 3 sucked, no if ands or buts about it. That climb on the other side of Mill was haaaard. I had a lady yell at me for unclipping as I made the hair pin turn (she was trying to pass me on the right), I had somebody lose a waterbottle that then came flying at me (I ran it over and managed to not go down), I finally came flying down mill ave towards Rio Salado. I saw and heard my family and friends at the turn. Not gonna lie, I was a little teary eyed coming into T2. I couldn’t belive I had finished 56 miles, all I had to do now was run 13.1 miles and I was done. I could see the light at the end of the 70.3 mile tunnel.
Once again I took my time, I changed shoes, put on my hat, strapped on my race bib and headed out. I had decided earlier in the week to take a page from SwimBikeMoms book and run 3 minutes, walk 1 minute. I looked down at my watch, noted the time and started running towards the 1st aid station. I came out the gate too fast (happens every time) and was checking my watch every 10 seconds waiting for the 3 minutes to be over. I made it to the first aid station, grabbed some oranges, some pretzels and filled my water bottle with ice. Those became my holy grail, trifecta of aid station goodness. I love oranges during races, I needed the salt from the pretzels to counteract what I was losing in sweat, and I just couldn’t stomach another GU or chew. Just the thought was making my stomach turn. After aid station #2 I decided the 3:1 run walk ratio was not working for me, I was spending too much time looking at my watch and dreading the running. I decided that I was going to run as long as I could with my goal to get to the next aid station, walk the length of the aid station, and then power on. This ended up working better for me because I wasn’t obesessing over my watch. It started to get really hot outside on the run, I was pouring more water over my head, and down my back then I was drinking. I am not generally a sweaty person but I could see the salt stains on my shirt which told me I need to force down as much nutrition as possible. As I was coming around the 2nd loop I realized I just couldn’t keep running, my knee was starting to go and as I learned at Ragnar, if my knee goes I am screwed. So I did the math and decided if I could keep a 15 min pace then I would come in around 7:45. I let my body do what it felt it could do, of course my body was saying F this, lets go get a pizza and I was begging it for just 10 more miles.
Just 10 more miles, we can run 10 miles in our sleep, that’s an easy morning jog after all this training. Just 10 more miles, just 9 more miles, just 8 more miles, just to the next aid station, just one more loop, just 3 more miles, just to the porta potty, just to the bridge, run to the finish, we just have to loop around Ironman village and down the chute, where the hell did this hill come from?!, ok over the hill and down the chute, high five Sammy, high Five Dad, sorry mom no High five you are on the wrong side of the chute, high five BAMers, run to the guy with a mic, fist pump for pictures, smile, no, cry, no, smile, smile while crying, hold medal up, grab a water, and the most expensive hat you will ever own, fall into husband, smile.
And done.
Lauren Ellis, YOU are HALF AN IRONMAN!!!
(no they don't really say that, but I wanted them to.)
I finished in 7:50 sqeaking just under 8 hours. Once I finished all the pain that I had been ignoring for 8 hours came rushing back, I felt the blisters on my toes, the cramping in my arms, and the stiffness in my knees. I looked down and realized I no longer had ankles, just calves that attached directly to my feet. My mom helped my take my shoes off and put on sandles, there were lots of stinky hugs and well wishes. I still had to pack my bags and load my bike back in the truck, as we started walking to the truck the weather that had been holding out came pouring down.
We headed to In and Out for the traditional post race meal, my stomach was not ready to eat so I just watched and sipped on 7up until my stomach settled. The car ride home was very pungent, none of us smelled like roses.
We picked up a large sausage and extra cheese pizza on the way home (my one request after racing), a couple big ice bags, and two containers of our favorite ice creams. Getting everything unloaded and into the house while simultaneously feeding 4 dogs who were convinced we had left them forever was quite a task for two people who could barely move. Once the dogs were settled down, everything had been brought in,and the truck was febreezed, we set up our individual ice baths. I went first, Scott kept yelling at me to make sure I was in for 5 minutes, I kept yelling back that I wasn’t even in yet, and yelling at the 4 dogs who wanted to sniff every part of me, stick there heads in the bath, and generally walk underfoot at all times. I love them but after my blisters were stepped on for the 3rd time I banished them from the room. As soon as I placed my delicate and badly abused body parts into the water I started crying, and not little girlish sniffles. Big racking sobs. It hurt, it brough to light every chafed piece of skin, every blister, every ache, and every nerve. After about 3 minutes I stopped crying and let myself sink into the water. It started to feel good, it was pulling the pain out of my knees, my ankles were coming back, and I could wiggle my toes again. I had a friend tell me that Ice baths are where Heaven and Hell meet, and I couldn’t agree more. After 5 minutes I turned the shower to the hottest setting and felt my muscles unclench for the 1st time in 12 hours.
After the shower I settled in bed with my large pizza, a gallon of water, and a bowl of ice cream… I then proceeded to pass the F out. Gone. Goodnight.
I woke up to Cally (our bloodhound) drinking my water from my cup next to the bed. She did not give a damn that I was still dehydrated.
Thank you everyone who came out, cheered, and helped me get to this point. I couldn’t have done it without the support of my family, friends, and even the random strangers who wished me luck.
I think I am now more scared for Oceanside, this was harder than I anticipated and I have a lot of work to do.
I get 6 weeks off to rest, and let my body heal up before I jump back into training. Most of the next week will be spent eating, eating, and drinking beer.
Except for 4 hours on Saturday when I run a half marathon (not sure what I was thinking)
Oh… and I know you all are wondering… no I did not poop my pants.
