I thought it best to get this Race Report out now-fast. It
still burns and stings a bit…figure while it’s raw, it may make for better reading.
I have a day here
in Cozumel-post race-to sit and reflect on what turned from hopeful to horrid so
it’ll be nice to finish this RR. I received a gift from Chris before I left, a new Athletes
Lounge hat with the signatures and encouragement signed by my whole church
family-awesome. Thank you West Valley!!!
I really wanted to
validate all the sacrifice others made for me to get here. I know that may sound dramatic even
‘romanticized’-but, I mean it. I felt strongly this was an opportunity to
justify hard work and dedication put in by my whole team. It is a team sport,
don’t believe otherwise. Plus the way I’m wired I just wanted to say “We did
it, finally.” I wanted to do my best. That’s all.
Not going to be a sour-puss, or sore loser, I had a rough
day…. that’s racing. I knew coming into
this, as did my family, the chance of punching my ticket was shadowed by what
could (and did) happen. Ultimately again-I really am OK with it. I’m happy I finished, I wanted to quit so terribly bad, and for all
the reasons why I listed above that I wanted to say “Kona!”, these same reasons sang true for me just getting to
the line. I thank God for this awesome experience, and the images of people who
love me in my head saying-keep going.
Michael Lovato agreed that it was one of the toughest swims (and
overall days) he has seen. Talking to a full on pro gives a much different, and
needed perspective about Ironman. Too
often it’s comfortable to get cozy with the ‘mistake’, or ‘error’ that caused
the day to go wrong. Instead of just acknowledging
sometimes again, racing is going to suck--deal with it. Of course the
ease of writing that now is better-but the initial acceptance of falling way
short was hard. I went from Texas,
missing Kona by minutes, to yesterday missing it by hours. I thought this on the run (or walk for me)--
and had to keep going back to the ultimate reason I was racing.... get people informed
and involved with Mountain Top Ministries and the “Taxi Initiative”. Yes, Kona is huge and something I've been working for
a long time, so naturally with the haunting realization that all this time
spent away from those most important would come up on the wrong side made me sad. But quit?
What Ian
Adamson said during the Epic 5 and in Canada came to mind--“If you quit once,
it’s so much easier the next time….and so on”. Kona??? Eh…It will wait. Or maybe it will
never happen? That’s another thing I
thought about yesterday between the vomiting, and passing out…”Hey moron, It’s
me the One who created you, knows you, and Loves you….Yes, I love you. Don’t
love this more than me-alright? It’s cool, and I love that you enjoy it, but,
remind me again, who did you say that I am? You’re not going to understand this
in the morning. Or maybe never… Know
why-cuz it won’t matter. Let’s just get this
right-I love you, I’m Holy, you are not, suck it up, Christmas is coming.” This was going through my head all day. It’s
happened before; I feel Christ’s love in the lowest of moments. For me it
brought great comfort…then I barfed again all over. Ahhhhh…. Ironman.
“Yeah but what if you had qualified-Would all this be
different? All the deep thoughts and
beautiful reflection -- like a lame Jack Johnson song?” (Yep-he’s lame) Uh…It does not matter. The fact stands and
it’s OK to recognize it-I did not qualify. Move on.
NOTE**As I re-write this part of my RR on the plane I've been upgraded to 1
st class. Why? I’m not sure, but I get this now…..
I used to be a peasant nibbling on peanuts and stale pretzels drinking a
half can of juice or water…Pffffff….. Now-I’ve got a whole can of ginger ale and a thin yuppie glass to pour it in, a Turkey sandwich, hot towel, blankey, my own flight attendant. This is weird??? But….I’m at the
back of first
class, like 1.5 class and the people right behind me, in coach, the lesser folk
if you will, are glaring at me in their crunched seats. Quivering like skinless cold newborn dogs. "Quit
looking at me… let me enjoy this Delta free range organic chocolate brownie and
steaming cup of coffee. I wish you all were never born….Just leave me alone!
Can’t you see I’ve got to get up again, and use my very own bathroom with the easy to find flush handle, comfortable
toilet paper, and trash bin lid that’s not all jammed up with paper towels
because I only pull out one at a time instead of twenty like in lower, or,
coach??" Seriously…this is awesome.)
 |
| swim course day before race |
The race-
I was fit-like fit, fit. Even with that 2 week navigation and detour
through Chest Cold Township-I was ready, and, just so you know (a few of you
asked my “plan”) my intent was to come in around an hour on the swim, (Cozumel
is usually a faster swim, so I was looking at around 56-58) 5 hour bike, my
bike fitness is dialed and I planned on hanging at 200w, if things went well
possibly under 5, and, hold
7:15-20’s on the run. This was where my
body and head were and I felt comfortable, trained, and trusted. I've been honing in on my race pace with Chris
since Louisville and this made sense. I was aiming for-and serious about a
9:20-28/30. It’s taken years not just think this-but, know it and trust it,
believing in it….this removed a ton of doubt. Athletes get “locked”
sometimes. I have, did, and if not
careful still will ‘think’ or ‘imagine’ I’m bound to, or ‘locked in’ to an end
product of previous results in build, prep, work, to a single point including
the setbacks within a time frame or schedule. Does that make sense? (I know that’s a crap sentence) Chris was
HUGE in helping me overcome short sighted detours and recognize the overall
“trip” to get where I was. Despite my
prep not 100% nailed (it rarely or never is for most) b/c of a cold-life-job….Whatever,
with common sense and a cool thought process managing time into a race is still
very possible to hit your goals even with forks in the road. *** Now-the important
thing is BASE, if not present-scratch those previous thoughts. That’s a different topic altogether. My base
was, and is solid-I knew this and felt charged up-but careful. Plus-the stress
and trouble this race, (this year) has been on my incredible family, was worth
one more chance utilizing my platform. We all worked out a plan-and, it was a
go.
Literally within 60 seconds of getting into the water I knew
the plan would change….
The night before the race I maybe got in an hour or two of
sleep. I just was unable to sleep. Good
thing the day before (after flying into Cozumel) l I slept for 13 hours. I woke up and was like “BRRAAAGGGGG I feel
GRAND!!!!! Where is Baxter and my Leather bound books!?!?” I was so rested!! It was such a boost. My concern about the short time getting here
before the race was gone. This also gave
me peace as I lay awake in bed knowing I was rested deep down. I just thought,
prayed and considered it a blessing that no matter what happens this time next
week I would be home. The only time uncertainty
of what little rest I got race night was at the end of--nightmare swim, and my
depleting energy and patience began to shift.
The chop, waves, and current were INSANE. Treading water and moving to the start I
thought “Why am I swimming-but not going anywhere? “Oh, crap”. The disorganized swim start was my only
logistical complaint. At least 300-400
athletes took off 2 min’s before the gun, and despite efforts of jet ski’s
trying to push everyone back-it was unsuccessful. I treaded water at the start line watching
hundreds of people swim by as the initial group that jumped took off. I began to wonder what to do? I guess they thought they heard
something-either way, I stayed put as I anxiously watched hoards of people bolting.
Eventually I was on my way.
I fought with everything to hold pace in the water and being
on the outside of the pack (near the Jet ski’s) presented me with a challenge
never faced in a race. Getting away from the fumes and the water that tasted like
oil and gas was nearly impossible. It
was terrible and for at least 5 minutes I could not evade it. I could feel my
stomach bubbling and tried to calm myself.
Eventually I was out --but the feeling of post Tilt-a-Whirl + elephant
ear grew heavy inside. With a few gulps of sea water, breakfast was complete. I also began to realize I’d been in the water
way too long and imagined many would not finish the swim- 200 + did not, and a
total for the day was over 30% DNF’d. Tough day.
Exiting, the fatigue
was haunting-but, no kidding…within 2 minutes running through T1 I felt good!
“Thank you Lord” I said out loud and all worry about the water was gone-totally. I felt awesome even seeing 1:10 on
the clock as I looked back and saw droves
of people struggling-- just thankful to be out.
T1 was chill-excited I had five hours to get set, fueled,
and kill the run. I was level the whole day. Knowing full well I’m
emotional-I made it a point to just be level, kind of like “I’m here to
work, put on the hard hat, and go home.” Despite this, I was looking forward to
being back in T2 already!! Putting on
the ol’ slippers and running, but, again I quickly focused on the moment and
for the rest of the day stayed there. In
the moment.
20 miles into the bike I started vomiting. I did not stop
till mile 23 of the run. These were not “top off’s” or, “burp-up’s” (when you throw
up a little indicating “I’m good for right now”) many were bouts of head
spinning, little girl possessed listing to Slayer and smiling vomit’s. Not fun.
But…mentally I was really OK, actually I was awesome and overall my body was
dialed. Initial thought was maybe for
once the jarring in the water was hanging for a bit-“it’s cool just be patient…
it’ll pass”….
I was keeping pace and
power for the most part till 60 or so, the effects of decreased intake obvious.
I started to try and figure out what the
heck was going on and why? I couldn't keep anything in, and worry began to
creep. No Cals/CHO’s will make for a
tough run. My plan-EAT ON THE BIKE, was
not happening. I thought about working with Neil at Kinetic Revolution, being
smart-not forcing it. I continued to stay positive and patient. “This has to
turn”.
Was it Salt water? Over-pacing? Should I have waited longer before I started
my fuel instead of getting right “on it” post swim?? Crap! I tried everything-everything. Gave myself a few windows to try to settle my
gut down and slowed the pace. Just water
helped for a bit, but nothing seemed to fix-or, slow the problem. The heat was not a factor at all for me. I was working –but not being dumb. It’s been said GI Issues are just pacing
issues in disguise-I thought of this, slowed again, nothing. Finally at mile 90 I came to a decision-slow
now-way down, loose the work I've done and do repairs on the first part of the run.
That’s not ideal but it made sense. Racing
sometimes is like the mind of an Alcoholic or a porn addict-(any addict I
guess)…
.
1.
It’s Ideal.
2.
Turns to an ordeal.
3.
Then you want a new deal.
I call it –the ION principle. Ideal was gone at the swim, my ordeal, nothing
(fluid/fuel) stayed inside, and my new deal was-damage control. I really slowed- sipped water into T2-managed
a gel, few clif blocks in the last 20
miles on the bike which got me to the run. But still was so queezy and
gurgley.
T2-Total focus “Use the first 4 miles as a rebuild. Get some cal’s and fluid in, see how my legs
feel.” With the super strong wind and
flatter course I’d been using the same muscles all day so I could not really
assess my legs till I was on em for a bit.
Sweet!!-They felt
good.
I was constantly assessing where I was at. I knew I needed fluid.
I knew I needed fuel. I was going down the road of dehydration (if not there
yet) and just not going to face it because my legs felt really good. “I can still do this”. Out of T2 I did walk
for 2 minutes, drank, and ate a banana, Gatorade-good, good. Down the road with screaming fans all over I
kept thinking “walk out-run back in”. It was comforting and felt like I was
doing the right thing, felt like I was playing against Ironman. But, very soon
into the run I didn't feel right. My effort felt like 7:15/20, but my time was 7:40/5+. “Ok,
I’m staying here then for right now”, I told myself again…. all is OK. Mile 2, 3, 4 all were pretty nice and uplifting,
something is working. Easing in-getting
fluid and fuel…..Then mile 5 or 6?? Not
totally certain… Demon vomit girl walked back in. ”Hi old friend, like my new doll and
Braaagfrdfgerteeerr” I fought her off with run/walk for a few miles -- but as
the run progressed I grew more nauseous and sensitive. Smells of Gatorade and gel started to make me
throw up-it was bad and getting worse. I tried so many times to just get
anything in to take hold-but nothing. I
ping-ponged back and forth with water and letting things just settle- it would
work for a bit-but by mile 20, I just had to walk. I did pee on the run late, but
my body said enough. I was done. Now I
had to really fight off quitting. I
walked with Dirk Bockel for a bit, he told me in his thick Belgian accent, “This
is embarrassing to walk like this”. I
tried to encourage him a bit but was pretty bad in my own way.
Mile 23 was the final act-I leaned over a curb and really
heaved-up came everything I had gotten in on the run over the past hour. Funny
though… after I actually felt better.
This was the first time all day I actually felt good after being sick?? I was relieved. That was good. The bad- I
passed out here, only for a moment. I
remember some guy yelling at me and a medical attendant asking if I was Ok. I
smiled, like a freaking psycho, got up, and was off. Mile 25 I mustered up what I could and ran or,
whatever- through to the line “Hey, Hey….I think I’m OK” Thumbs up like a
dork….uh…nope.
Staggering over to
the recovery area I hit the deck and was taken into medical where I spent a
good part of the evening. I have (I
think again) about a 10-15 minute window where my memory is kind of gone. I have no finisher shirt, and how I went to
the Med- tent from the finish is still hazy. I vaguely remember the IV going in
and coming around after fluids, some nausea med’s, and soup. I had a T-shirt on
and a pair of fresh boxer shorts and kept asking if I was going to have to pay
for these pajamas? What was going on-I swear I thought Tom Cruise was going to
walk in and ask if I wanted to go to Vegas and count cards… Eventually I hobbled over to get my crap and a
cab to take me back.
Disbelief I actually finished and failure ate away. Where
was the gusto, the knowing I was ready-my trust. It was gone, and for a few
seconds it won. My motives here have always been transparency. More than just
relaying grams of malto, pace ideals, meters in the pool and intent for getting
to Kona-you know this-So, Relaying this next part hurts, but its truth. And it
always-always wins.
My family should have
been here.
They should be here
with me now. This pulled and tugged back and forth for the past few months, and
Rhonda, solid as always, my best friend and greatest piece of Life on earth let
me go and chase it.. one more time. Man that chic loves me. Like “high school”
loves me. Like “make out all the time and foot rub loves me” and, what I
thought would be the frame on a work of art we struggled to paint this year-was
now stench-so I thought. If I had not already been fighting off nausea still-it
hit me hard then. Just to clear up here, I did bounce back out of “self pity
and misery alley” fast. I was just a little shocked-that’s all, but I was
clear. I enjoy endurance sport and Ironman so much. I love the opportunity to
be with such amazing sponsors and people in my corner, racing with other people
who “get it”. I love to fight for things
that mean more than racing too. I've been so blessed this year. I've met people who share my love for Jesus
and grow relationships. Jason, Jake,
Ryan, I thought of you a lot these past days. It’s a God thing I know-but, it’s
true. We have spent little or no time
together and I still feel connected. Thank you all. (just felt led to write
that)
I know no matter the
goal, prize, or potential victory that lays waiting, despite the chance at
stars in your eyes, the “yeah…but this time it’ll be worth it’”-- stretching
out to grab the Holy Grail like in the Last Crusade, it’s a long painful walk.
Sometimes filled with hard talks to yourself, to God, to demon vomit kid. For
me I didn’t know how long a walk like this was till I was done. I fell, and the
ones that I breath for in the first place were not there. I don’t regret coming
here, nor would Rhonda say that it was a bad decision. Ian on the other hand..”What
the crap Dad?! You get to go fly again and stay at a cool motel?! Man, I want to go with you!” I kept saying-soon little man, Kona. The
first thing he said when I returned was “I know how bad you wanted to pay us
all back here Dada, but I love you, and you did not quit.”
We are a team and we knew the reasons, Cozumel was the right
thing to do. But you know by now if you've raced Ironman, it brings feelings.....the kind I think I'm ready for and when it comes, wham. In Louisville when I got that 9:51-it was
cool, but I still was bummed Rhonda was not there. I fought off all this during the race and was
a robot but now-I was unplugged. Enter blade runner. I reflected that morning before the
race, waking at 3:30AM. I sat and drank a
cup of coffee and prayed. Read a little-listened to music. Thought then how I missed the heavy sarcasm from Rhonda as she
often comments on the hour team Isakson is up, and quickly says “No babe-this
is a blast”. My son Ian telling me don’t
quit papa-ever. Evelyn looking at me in
a haze with eyes so big and blue it makes the water I swam in yesterday seem
like a swamp.
Victory or defeat, I miss my family….I love you. You guys are my
Big Island.
Honestly...overall the experience was AWESOME. I had
time to share my hope to a few Athletes about working in Haiti, my desire and
passion for X3 church, and just Loving on people you know? I enjoy being able
to say “Yeah, my race was difficult, but have you heard of the “Taxi Initiative”, and
Mountain Top Ministries??
I’m still not so thick headed that I lose total track of
reality….right?
I mean-- I still have to win the Ultraman World
championships?
I've got to keep
thinking straight.
.jpg)
