March 4th 2012, my mother calls to tell me my Aunt has had a heart attack, she's alive but ailing. A week later I get the same call, her heart has stopped as the result of a second heart attack, she's still alive but ailing. Aunt Joanie is someone who has always been active. Her profession as a nurse kept her on her feet all day everyday. As a wife of a now cattle rancher, the mother of two and the grandmother of five very active grandchildren, to say she spends her days on the go is an understatement. We have shared the start line at Bloomsday where in training she walked to and from work, as much as 8 miles each day. Her recovery from the heart attacks would be slow but steady. The doctors said her heart would likely never regain full strength but at 50% she would be able to live her life as close to normal as possible.
February 2013, another call from my mother, Joanie has cancer and it's bad. The cancer has blocked her intestine. It would need to be removed, a very invasive surgery. Post op would bring chemo. Her heart now functioning at or around 50% would be asked to support her body through two rounds of chemo. The chemo, if it works, would reduce that percentage, how much was unknown. The doctors would need to evaluate on a weekly basis if her heart could continue to take the chemo. I don't live close enough to visit as much as I would like but my mother and sister would visit Joanie in what was a long hospital stay. They were left to tell the stories of how awful the chemo was and how backward it can be to pray her heart is strong enough to put her through something so devastating to her body. But the alternative was unthinkable.
My little February bike accident has been well documented and it's result still lingers. I spent the majority of the last year rehabbing in an effort to get my lower back to calm down. An MRI revealed a 20% deterioration of L5, which has left me with Facet Joint irritation. Rest is commonplace but who has time for that, right? It was decided I wouldn't do any additional damage if I trained through the injury, I would just have to take the pain. I.E. Suck it up Buttercup.
In June I came into Ironman Coeur d'Alene with very little base and under trained. Although I wouldn't say it was a disaster, I finished, I would say it was the hardest race I have ever done. I was left with a IM race I have very little memory of (but that's a topic for another post) and a confidence that had been shaken…badly!
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| Riverside State Park trails. |
This year was different mentally because of the physical nature of my "injury". Separating the two became a challenge, not letting the physical discomfort become mental discomfort. But I'm human and there were inevitably days of "poor me" workouts where I just wasn't feeling it or was so very tired in a big build. It's all part of the IM process of building a stronger body and mind. With little base training, I found myself needing something else to lean on when it came to doing some of the long solo training sessions my body or mind just don't want to do. I found myself thinking a lot about and leaning on my Aunt with her 30% heart function. I drew strength in the fact that…I could. I could be out running or riding, whatever the day, whatever the distance. If she can get through an average day with such grace then the least I can do is get through a workout the same way. I.E. Suck it up Buttercup.
Leading up to the race I asked if Joanie would send a little something that I could carry during the race as a reminder in hard times. Maybe a small note or a small piece of jewelry. My thoughts were she would send a single earring that she had lost the mate to or something along those lines. Something that if lost in the craziness that is an Ironman wouldn't be missed. Well, it didn't work out that way. In a very "Aunt Joanie" way, she sent one of her most prize possessions. A dime she found on her high school senior picnic and has worn on a neckless for 54 years. "This dime has the power to hold memories. It helps you reflect on happy times. It cannot only show you where you have been, but it can help you find where you are going. It will get you to the end of your race." Yeah...No pressure! But with it safely pinned inside the pocket of my tri top, I felt it would be safe for the entire 140.6 mile journey.
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Thursday before race day, Bootsie and I board the plane along with Speedy G and Nat. Triathletes are a strange and odd group of people, it comes with the territory. And as one of the very few B personality types in the entire triathlon field, some of the oddities strike me differently. But there is one thing that is a constant - "We take care of our own"! Yep, the three I sit with on the plane are traveling to Tempe Arizona to support me not only on race day but in all needs I may have surrounding the race itself. The words "thank you" will never be near enough!
Race morning and I'm up at 3:55 a.m. A shower and some breakfast. Yes I'm nervous, I get it. I'm not sure what this day will hold. Will my back stay together or will it fire up in the swim like it has all year? Will the bike eat me up like in IMCDA? Can I finish? How deep can I go and how dark can I get? Lots of questions lead to two things. The first is my snapping at Bootsie about nothing at all the night before the race. The circumstances were stupid but an avenue for a release of tension is needed. The second is my tromboning breakfast on race morning. Yep, it's a two breakfast kind of morning.
Down to the race start at about 5:15 or so. I prep the bike and drop my nutrition for the day. I head over to special needs where Bootsie, Speed G and Nat meet me and thank goodness. I'm unfocused and frankly I'm coming apart a little. Bootsie gathers me in telling me to stay out of my own head. The three of them poke fun at the quirky triathletes and their fans. All good natured fun and all in an effort to keep the mood light. It works and off to the swim start I go.
The swim goes smoothly, it's tight at first but clears by the mid point. There are some low clouds muting the sunrise. Sunrise on race day is actually after the race begins. At IMAZ you swim directly into the rising sun which broke out of the clouds just as I made the turnaround. Perfect! I tried to concentrate on staying long and relaxed in my stroke. Any added effort due to contact with other athletes added tension to my back so I took it very easy and relaxed.
I exited the water at 1:23+ and my back was showing no signs of flaring. A quick wave to my support crew standing on the bridge over looking T1 and into the tent I go. With this race I knew I needed to break it into three completely separate events so I took a little more time (then I probably should have) in T1 to make sure I was stretched and ready for the bike.
Out on the bike and I knew my 1:23 swim was a leading indicator of the day to come so I took it exceedingly easy on the first of three loops. I just cruised, enjoying the moment. When racing Ironman, fun can be a precarious word but I was actually having fun, lots of fun. I had a low spot at about the midway point in the bike but was able to control it. Heading back out for the third loop I felt good. I found a guy with a strong pace about 200 meters up the road, keeping him at about that distance I used him as a carrot to pull me along. We were passing lots of people which can be up lifting. All I was thinking was how I needed to make it to the turnaround at about mile 95 and it's slightly down hill to the finish. Mile 100 and not surprisingly the wheels came off. I blew up! There was no comfortable riding position and nutrition was a challenge. I go away from any solid nutrition supporting my calorie needs with liquids. I had mentally pulled the race into thirds but you can't do that with nutrition so I soldier on, taking calories my body needs but I really didn't want.
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| The Hot Corner Photo By Greg Gallagher |
T2 - Check. I hit the suntan lotion station and pull off to the side of the water station so I can get some electrolytes and a gel before heading out on the run.
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| Feeling the aid station love. Photo by Natalie Gallagher |
I had so much race day support, from the people who had traveled to the race, to the neckless securely fastened to my tri top, to the many people that had reached out to me and were tracking me on race day. I wanted to pick something as a gesture of thank you for all the support they were providing so when I received the following text I knew how I could do just that: "I am with you in spirit the whole race but on the run in a special way....do this for me: Every mile marker you pass so 26 times...while you run past it no matter how you feel..flash a smile and say this is for Kathi…". I found great comfort in counting off the miles with Best and everyone else that were lending their support.
Booties, Speedy G and Nat had volunteered on a run course and were at about the mid point of each lap. When I rolled into their aid station the first time my sugar was a little off so I was at a low point but their enthusiasm helped lift my spirits.
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| Bootsie working the aid station. Photo by Natalie Gallagher |
On the second loop of the run I felt reasonably good. I was walking the aid stations to be sure I kept my nutrition in line but the concrete was beginning to wear on me. I had a hip flexor that was absolutely driving me crazy and my hamstrings were tightening up to a point where they need to be stretched. Any out right stretching in the latter parts of an Ironman has always proved interesting. As soon as I begin stretching the afflicted area in my legs the opposing muscles would cramp. So I would do a series of high knee lifts as I ran to stretch the hamstrings.
It had gotten dark and for me the course had taken on a different mood. I was slowing down and had time for reflection on what this race meant to me. Iron distance races are often judged solely on time. How fast was your swim? What were your transition times? I do it everyday. But I found what can happen is the way you precieve a preformence or result is different then how others precive it. Judgement is often reserved for when you cross the finish line. Sometime your race day identity can get tied up in that. I hadn't come here chasing a time goal of any kind. I had come to test myself under the conditions I was afforded on this race day. I had come to honor others and to see if I posses the same inner strength when challenged by things that are beyond my control. I pray this, the arena that is Iron distance racing is the only arena I am ever tested in such a manner. But as we know it doesn't always work that way.
The 2013 Ironman Arizona finish line was as different as any other I have been blessed with. This finish line was about reaching a destination both physically and mentally. Yes, I covered the 140.6 miles. And yes, I had found things to lift me when times got tough. I only hope I was able to do it with some kind of grace, some kind of dignity.
