IM Wisconsin

Wow! What a day! After a week of recovery, I'm still not sure what to think about this race?

First, I guess I should say that the race venue was not what I expected. Probably a result of not reading enough online about the race prior to getting there. I knew that it was an "in-water" start, but I didn't know that there was barely a boat ramp size area for 2700 people to enter the water! I didn't know that we'd have to exit the water in the same small area we entered, and run up a garage exit ramp (they call it the "helix") for 3 stories on cement with no shoes on to enter transition. The simple fact that a swimmer drowned in Lake Monona 4 days prior to the race, and the body still hadn't been found until 2pm race day (long after we exited the water) was just a bonus! I have to add that the convention center was a beautiful building, (if you enjoy architecture) designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, and provided plenty of space for changing areas and 26 minute transitions. Ha!

The funniest thing I can remember about the swim is that every time I went to turn left on the swim course and glanced behind me, I found Laura waving at me and telling me she was "still here!". Can you imagine it? 2700 racers and Laura manages to follow me for 2.4 miles. Amazing.

Always confident about cycling, I quickly became terrified about cycling after we drove the bike course on Saturday prior to the race. I had looked at the race profile, but had convinced myself that the profiles are never really that accurate...how hilly could it be? I mean, I've climbed a "beyond category" climb in the Pyranees...I've climbed up and down the hills in Acadia National Park...I'm in Wisconsin...how hilly can it be? Well, I can now tell you. IT WAS HILLY!!!!

It wasn't so much that the hills were unmanageable, the first loop really wasn't so bad. I got a little boost when I saw the Kuhn clan and Amy McNeal while riding through Verona. It wasn't until after I picked up my special needs bag that I really started feeling spent. With every hill there after, I became a little weaker. Seemed like if I wasn't going 35mph down a hill, I was going 8-10mph up the next hill. I noticed that I probably wasn't eating as much as I should, but I was trying to make a conscious effort to drink. It didn't take long, but by mile 75ish, I felt spent. I rolled into a aid station, sat on my top tube, (afraid to get off for fear I wouldn't get back on!) and laid on my aero bars. One of the volunteers who must be an athlete came over to me and started asking me questions and consoling me. She asked someone for some electrolyte pills and gave them to me with some cold gatorade...I sat there, with a thousand thoughts rolling through my head while the volunteer rubbed my back...just like Mom when you're sick. It seemed like I was there forever, but it was probably only about 5-10 minutes before I decided to roll on. (literally) The rest of the way was painful. I'm now dry-heaving. (I'll spare you my thoughts about this!) With every hill, I became a little slower. At mile 92, I could not get my bike to go any faster than 10mph, and my only wish was to be done. I actually got off my bike and walked up a hill. First time EVER in my LIFE, have I walked my bike up a hill.

At this point, I have it in my mind that I am done. I will see Jim on my way into Transition, I will give him my bike and pass my timing chip to the nearest official.

Jim's not there? I couldn't of passed him...I'm not going fast enough to pass anything! (I find out later that he was drinking beer and eating pizza...It's been a long day for him! Ha!)

I, surprisingly, ride back up the helix and pedal to the dismount line. At that point, my mouth feels like it's stuffed with cotton. One of the guys sees that I'm a little distressed. Two of them help me off my bike and take me inside to the medic. She asks me about salt and electrolyte pills, when I respond that I've only taken a few from another competitor she continues to scold me for not regularly training with them...I sit there with the medic and volunteer who has gone and gotten my run bag and opened it. At this point, I don't see how it could be possible for me to feel good enough to even walk 26 miles. They have fed me a few more electrolyte pills, a salt pill and are having me sip gatorade. She says I have until 5:30pm to leave transition and that I don't have to make any decisions about the run yet. (At this point I look at my watch and it's 5:15pm...and my thoughts immediately turn to Laura, who I haven't seen into transition while I've been sitting there? Where could she be?) I actually eat a couple of small cookies after I've been sitting there for about 20 minutes, and I decide to change my socks and put on my running shoes.

I'm thinking mostly about Laura, because it's so close to the cutoff. The medic gave me another electrolyte pill and told me to take it in 30 minutes...not to drink anymore water, chicken broth or gatorade for me on the run. I didn't know where to hold onto that capsule that it wouldn't dissolve right away so I popped it in my mouth and decided that I should probably start walking.

The rest really wasn't all that bad. I walked the first 2 miles. Consumed chicken broth two-handed at every aid station and figured that if I could manage 4 miles an hour I could finish under midnight. At first it was run 1 minute, walk 3 and make sure every mile is in under 15 minutes. My brain finally started to function around mile 3 where I realized that when I looked at my watch in transition I was looking at Ohio time...NOT Wisconsin time and Laura really had 1 hour and 15 minutes to make it off the bike...which also meant I had an extra hour for the run!

By mile 13, I was actually feeling better and decided to run all the downhills and flats that I could. I flew through to mile 18 in an hour! There's no stopping me now!

To be honest, I haven't even looked at my results yet. I know I came in sometime around 15 hours 30 minutes (give or take 10 minutes? - 20 minutes, I don't know?) and I'm now pretty happy about that. I never would have forgiven myself if I had quit after the bike. So, thank you Jimmy for taking a break to drink some beer! I'm sure I would've broken down into tears and found comfort in a hug from him...but I'm really happy that I found a way to move forward.

Thanks to everyone for your phone calls, thoughts and prayers. I was too nervous to chat with anyone before the race, but I listened to all your voice mails and read all your texts...It's always a motivator to have so many people "on your side".