I thought the hardest part of this journey would be actually successfully making the time cut offs at the predetermined check points and finishing the race within the allotted time frame of 17 hours. However, it was more challenging to find the time to fit in the designated training hours into my busy schedule of attending classes for nursing school on top of completing the required reading, assignments and appropriate amount of studying, working a full time job as an ATC, and working a part time job lifeguarding. Despite my full schedule, I was determined that I would find the time! So starting on the 1st of February (a little behind most other training regimens because I was still trying to accommodate to life as a college student once again) my training program officially began! There were set backs along the way of course such as illness, minor injuries, and mental and physical exhaustion but I managed to accumulate 145 solid hours of training time with about 1000 miles logged on the bike, 200 miles logged running, and about 50 miles swimming.
The month of June seemed to creep by but finally the day arrived for me and my personal onsite support team, mom, to pack our bags and hit the road. We stopped the first night in Pasco to break the 6 hour car ride up in hopes of minimizing stiffness and travel fatigue. Relaxing that evening in Pasco at the motel the “what ifs” began to creep into my head. There was so much that could go wrong on the bike that was out of my control. I knew physically I WOULD pull it off even if I had to crawl across that finish line. I did my best to push those thoughts out of my mind and focus on what I did have control over but needless to say the bike portion of the race began to terrify me. The run portion of triathlons have always scared and intimidated me since I am not a runner but the bike leg terrifies me. Not because I am not a strong biker physically but because I was not in complete and total control over my performance. However, fear was not going to win!
Sleep did not come easy that night since I was only two and a half hours away from the Ironman kingdom. However, morning eventually came and we once again packed our bags , headed to Coeur d’Alene and straight to the expo center to check in and get my goodie bag. They ushered us through to different check points to get all our necessary gear, get our wrist bands which is our pass into all the events and athlete restricted areas, and to activate our timing chips, It took about an hour and half to be herded through the mass of people but when all was finished it was time for a little grub, a little training, a little shopping (which normally I am not big on but to buy Ironman swag I am all about it!), then to the welcome banquet, and athlete race debriefing. As I exiting the tent of the banquet I was exhausted but more motivated than ever to claim the title of Ironman.
Prerace day started off bright and early with an open water swim in hopes to scope out the course. Unfortunately the buoys weren’t put in yet so it was would only be a swim to test out the waters. As we arrived on the beach unease settled over me while I put on my wetsuit and I looked out into the water at the choppy waves. As I fought wave after wave heading out toward a white buoy in the water I struggled to catch a breath of fresh air that wasn’t combined with a heaping gulp of water. With less than 100 yards until I reached my destination, I decided to conserve my energy for tomorrow. As worry about the swim began to rise for the first time ever in my triathlon career, I headed back to the beach. I did my best to brush that mornings dreadful swim off and prepare for tomorrow.
After a quick bike ride, we dropped Mr. Cannondale off for a quick tune up prior to setting him up at the transition area and headed to drop my transition bags off at their designated locations. My niece had made me a string of beads to wrap around the tie strings so my bags would stand out from the rest but as I lined them up against the others I realized that this would not suffice. The bag next to me had small florescent colored dots all over it which sparked my imagination. So it was off to Fred Meyers to stock up on some stickers. However, as we combed the rows nothing stuck out as being the ticket until we hit the birthday aisle. My mom saw some horns that are given out at kids birthday parties which when combined with yellow duct tape would be sure to stand out in a sea of reds and blues. After the bags were decorated and my bike the second and final member of my onsite support team had arrived, my friend Val from Walla Walla. The remainder of the day was spent doing last minute preparations for the race, double and triple checking my supplies and winding down with having a carb feast at the Olive Garden. We then retired to our motels and it was lights out.
I was up and out of bed before the 3:50 alarm could make a second annoying buzz. It was 3 hours prerace which meant time for my big breakfast shindig. I was told that I should try to consume 800 calories prior to the race which I had never before done. So I broke the cardinal rule of race day and calculated a breakfast that came close to that mark and consisted of oatmeal, Luna bar, Sharkies, PB & J sandwich, and topped the meal off with my prerace ritual of 5 hour energy. After rechecking that all my necessary gear was in my special needs bag, filling my water bottles, and taking several deep breaths we loaded the car and headed to the race site. After wandering through a maze of detours due to the road closures which were not suppose to happen for another hour we finally parked the car and began unloading all the gear. My heart sank when I went to grab my wetsuit and to my utter dismay realized that it was sitting in front of the door back at the motel. The panic attack began to surface and my mom quickly intervened, dropped Val and I off at the transition area, and drove back to the motel to get my wetsuit.
Setting up my bike was the first stop. I strapped on my forerunner watch onto the aero bars for easy readability of my pace, time, and most importantly my heart rate. I then loaded up my bag that sits in-between my aerobars with nutritional goodness and finished with setting my aero waterbottle in between the bars. I finished by ensuring that my tires were pumped up t their designated psi of 100 and draped the strand of beads that my niece made for me over the bars so my bike would stand out amongst the sea of other bikes.
The next stop was to double check my transition bags. I ensured that my horns had survived the windy night and to reorient myself to the surroundings that could aid in locating my bag. I opened my bags to reorient myself as to how I had packed my bag and mentally rehearse my transition. This would be the first race I had ever done in which transition bags are used as well as change tents so the whole concept intimidated me quite a bit.
Once this was finished I had to drop off my special needs bags at their designated locations. The special needs area on the bike would be at about mile 63 so we dropped them off at a large moving truck that would transport the bags to their designated location. This transition bag contained another flask of hammer gel (which is basically the consistency of honey), back up electrolyte pills in case the ones I was carrying got wet or lost, gloves in case my hands began to hurt, spare CO2 cartridge, a floor pump and bike tools. Hopefully the only thing that I would need would be my nutrition but I would rather be prepared rather than hopefully during this race.
The special needs location for the run would be at about mile 14.5 on the run. This bag contained a lot less materials than the bike but the only thing I had to worry about on the run was me. I had packed a florescent green windbreaker since I knew that I would be running well past sunset, again extra electrolyte pills and comfort food in case I needed a taste of familiarity. Since the bag was so light in comparison to the bike transition bag I feared that there was something that I was forgetting but after checking it three or four times I finally accepted that all was in there that I needed and relinquished the bag to the control of the transition Gods.
After all this was done I had about 45 min until the cannon sounded so it was just enough time to get into my wetsuit. Now you may think it couldn’t possibly take you 45 min to get into a wetsuit but those who have had the luxury of putting one of these bad boys know that it’s a competition in and of itself. I made sure to put body glide (which is basically the consistency of Vaseline) on my ankles and wrists so it prevents the wetsuit from getting stuck when it comes time to take the wetsuit off. Then it came time for the struggle to commence working up a sweat to get the wetsuit pulled all the way up. Before it was time to zip the suit up I put a super think coat of body glide on my neck to prevent my usual open wound that occurred along my hair line. It was going to be a painful and uncomfortable day as it was so any discomfort that I could minimize would bode well in my favor, or so I thought.
Once my suit was properly on, my swim cap was donned, and my goggles in hand, it was time to make our way down to the beach. All the athletes had to gain access to the beach my crossing the timing pad so we were all herded back in the direction of the stairs fighting the crowd of spectators who were moving in the opposite direction. While we were being herded through the stairway to the beach across the timing chip so they would be activated I had my prerace swim of 4 shot blocks. Once on the beach it was time to find my perfect starting spot. My plan was to stay as far away from the mass of people from the start as possible. I strategically positioned myself as far left of the buoy line as possible where only a few people were. I began swimming out about 200 yards from the shoreline and stopped and began to tread water to take in the scene. I looked around for landmarks to spot in case I did not see the red buoys with the mass of people but I also soaked in the moment. I couldn’t believe I was actually here about to live my dream. I reflected back to my very first sprint triathlon three years ago with my mountain bike, make shift race belt, and having no idea what I was even doing. Now I was about to compete in the Everest of triathlons about to earn the title of Ironman. Chills ran down my spine and a smile spread across my face as I headed back to the shore to take my spot amongst the elite.
Unfortunately when I returned to the shoreline my perfect spot with very few people had grown in size. When I left to do my quick warm-up in the water and let my body adjust to the coolness of the water (which was quite pleasant at 61 degrees) there were a maximum of 20 people on either side of me, however when I returned to shore that number had tripled in size. I tried to move down further but couldn’t escape the ground and ran out of room as I would be swimming into the boats that were stationed out in the water in case of emergency. I shrugged it off and mentally prepared myself for the thrashing of arms and legs, and waves I was about to fight through. This was the first triathlon that I have done that would be a mass start and this would be the largest number of athletes that I would be swimming with topping off at more than 2400+ athletes. I had decided that morning though that I would start when the cannon sounded rather than waiting for the majority of the athletes to hit the water. I was afraid that I would psych myself out as I watched the others head out so rather than risk trying to overcome a mental setback I weathered the battle.
Stationing myself at the front of the row we were all pushed back until we were only in ankle deep water and awaited the cannon. It sounded and with a deep breath, I nose dived into the water and began the battle. Surprisingly I had in fact picked the perfect position as I did not have to put up much of a battle to get out away from the pack. I quickly found my rhythm and a little melody appeared in my mind going a little something like this: “ stroke one, two, three, breath right, stroke one two three, breath left, stroke one, sight the buoy, (ah there it is), stroke one and breath.” Soon I came upon a pair of feet and decided to conserve my energy and draft. Falling back into my rhythm and making sure to keep a close eye on my drafters feet (after almost being kicked in the face several times when I forget this important fact and looked away), it wasn’t long until I was literally swimming on top of my person so I decided it was time to push forward and find another pair of feet. Pretty soon I hit gridlock as we rounded the first red buoy. My goal was to steer wide around the turn buoys since I had been warned about the backup that occurred. However, I got sandwiched in as the buoy grew closer so my plan was thwarted and I was forced to follow the pack. As the red buoy was within reach the fight began as people were swimming on me, arms were being thrown from every direction as they were attempting to swim through the mass, and I sustained kicks from every direction. It seemed like forever before the buoy was behind us and we were onto the next. The crowd spread out a bit but quickly grid lock happened once again and I was forced to tread water waiting for the athletes ahead to round the corner to start heading back to the shoreline. Once around the buoy I made my way towards the inside of the yellow buoys which were the 100 yard markers. Before I go on it may help to clarify the course a bit. The route was a rectangle with about half mile out, a quarter of a mile across, and a half a mile back. There were yellow buoys which were spaced about 100 yards apart leading out to a large red buoy which was the turn point. The athlete had to make the turn with the red buoy to the athletes left but the yellow buoys had no restrictions associated with them. Alright so knowing this I decided on the return route that I would keep the yellow buoys on my right since the rest of the athletes were swimming on the outside of the buoys or with the buoys to their left. It was a wise move since I was out there without any other athletes to contend with except for one who was having a hard time swimming straight and would occasionally whack me on the head then swim away and within a few minutes he would whacked me again and then be off. This sequence continued for several minutes until fortunately I out swam him and was back to my solitude again. I found my rhythm again and I began to sing my song once again. Soon I saw the bottom of the lake and I was standing once again and walking through the arches and climbing back in the water once again. I had no idea how long I had been out there but it seemed like hours. Fortunately I heard someone talking to his support crew or another athlete that the first loop had taken about 40 min. With a smile I nosedived back into the water thinking to myself that I was right on track for my usual open water swim time finish of 1 hour and 20 min. Some of you may wonder whether I picked it up since this was my last loop but I in fact did not. Yes I was half way done with the swim but I still had 112 mile bike and a marathon to complete. My body had never completed such an endeavor so rather than push harder and risk hitting the wall and having to mentally ensue or even worse a DNF I stayed the course. I found my rhythm again and focused only on the swim and pushed the thoughts of the remainder of the day’s events out of my head. I would find some feet draft for a ways then when that person became too slow I moved onto the next person. Again when we hit the red buoys it was grid lock, I patiently treaded water waiting for the mass to move forward and utilized the draft of the crowd to carry me to the next buoy. Finally I made the turn of the last red buoy and it was onto the final stretch of the swim. I steered myself again to the inside of the yellow buoy line away from the crowd and found my rhythm once again and straining with all my might to stay focused on the swim even though the next leg of this race was so close. As the third yellow buoy approached I made my way to the outside of the yellow buoys and joined the line of other athletes. Soon I could see the bottom of the lake and once my hands were scraping the mud of the lake I stood and made my way up the beach and through the white arches.
As I made my way through the arches and up the beach I began unzipping my wetsuit and pulling it down to waist level. As I made my way to the grassy areas where the wetsuit strippers were waiting I saw the glowing faces of my mom and Val which rejuvenated me. Finding a free spot in the stripping line I lied down on my back as the two volunteers freed me from the confinements of neoprene. Helping me up, I ran down my row where my T1 transition bag awaited me, grabbed my bag (which took no time to find due to my horns), and headed to the female change tent. Since I was not going to do a full change since I had swam in my sports bra and tri shorts, I found a spots amongst several other female participants. I quickly dried off, put on my heart rate monitor, pulled on a tri- tank top and some bike shorts, and snapped on my race belt that already had my number attached. I pulled my helmet on, stuck my sunglasses in the grooves of the helmet since I didn’t want them to fog and sprayed on a thick layer of sunscreen. I shoved everything that would not accompany on my bike back into my transition bag and made my way to the gated fence opening to retrieve my bike. I wiped the beads off the end of my aero bars and stuck them in my race belt so my niece would be racing with me that day. I unhooked the seat from the confinements of the bar it was placed on and walked to the gated bike exit not wanting to risk rolling an ankle on the uneven grassy surface with my bike cleats. Once through the white gated arch way we were allowed to mount our bikes. I took a deep breath and said a small prayer for no flat tires or other bike troubles before I mounted my bike. I clipped in and fell into line with the rest of the athletes as the mass of spectators cheered us on.
The game plan for the bike was to maintain a heart rate of 135 with a maximum heart rate of 150. However, I knew that the game plan was going to have to be modified when I looked down at the start of the ride and saw that my heart rate was pushing past 160. Did I feel like I was working hard? No not at all but I did not want to take any chances about pushing too hard on any portion of the race that I would not be able to finish. My body finally settled in and my heart rate began to drop and held steady at about 142 with my pace holding steady at a little over 13 miles/hour. Again I know that I could have pushed harder but a wise person told me before the race, my mentor and coach, Linnea Alvord, this race is not about what you CAN do its about what you SHOULD do. I knew that I was taking a chance as it was having my heart rate climb to 140 but that was a risk I was going to have to take and prayed that it wouldn’t be the wrong one.
I had ridden the course once prior to the race so knew what to expect which helped me mentally and physically pace myself. The first 25 miles I considered to be the flatter portion of the course and it remained in close to town so there were crowds cheering the whole stretch which made it more difficult not to push harder but I knew that the time to really dig in deep and work hard lie ahead. At mile around mile 25 the rolling hills began and the cheering squads diminished which is when I really had to stay focused especially when people were flying by me left and right. However, I saw a crowd of volunteers from a distance and as I approached I saw an athlete who was out for the count due to the heat or pushing too hard too soon. Either way that confirmed that I would stay the course no matter how many athletes passed me. I didn’t want to win the race or even my age division category, I just wanted to finish. Whether I crossed the line at 8 hours and 45 min (the top athlete’s time) or at 16 hours 59 min and 59 seconds the end result would be the same, I would be an ironman.
As I headed back into town for round two my bladder began to scream at me so I had to make a quick detour at the last aid station for a bathroom break. Luckily there were no lines because I feared what ceasing movement would incur. I was in and out in record time and back on the bike for round two. I began to get a little choked up as I flew past the turn around and saw the beaming faces of my mom and Val and thought of all the people back at home who I were cheering for me. I was not having any physical issues, there was no cramping or muscle fatigue and I felt great! However, I put my emotions in check because there was still so much that could happen. I just reminded myself to stay the course and not push harder because I still had 26.2 miles left to go after the bike was finished.
As I approached the special needs area, the volunteers shouted out my number and I slowed to a stop to replenish nutrition stash. Now some of you may wonder how you get your nutrition if you are working out all day long. Well in addition to training my body for the race, I had trained my stomach for the big day and had a nutrition plan in place in addition to a race plan. I began eating after being on my bike for thirty minutes starting with half a Luna bar and an electrolyte pill, which contains a combination of the essential electrolytes the body loses with sweating not just sodium. Within 15 min I would have half a dose of hammer gel that contained caffeine. Then on the top of the hour I would have the other half of my Luna bar and another electrolyte pill followed by the other half of the hammer gel dose within 15 min. I would also have Sharkies, which are basically fruit snacks that contain electrolytes, occasionally for a little comfort foot and to allow my taste buds a little flavor of the usual. I had no scheduled plan when it came to drinking water but tried to consume the full water bottle which was 32 oz within an hour to an hour and a half time which I managed to accomplish except through the hills portion my fluid intake tended to slow a bit. Therefore I was refilling my waterbottle, yes while on my bike, at each one of the aid stations so I never had to worry about running out of water. Bet you didn’t realize you had to have good coordination and balance as a triathlete.
I made it through the hill portion for the second time and I was still feeling no pain. As I crossed the 90 mile marker turnaround I knew that the hardest part of the ride was now over. I refrained from pushing the last 22 miles of the ride harder because I still had a marathon left which I knew was going to be the hardest part of the race. By mile 100 though I was ready to get off my bike and I just couldn’t get comfortable (or as comfortable as you can get). I continually would shift positions throughout the remaining 12 miles but nothing helped. My feet were numb so when I saw the marking on the street pointing the second lap bikers towards the finish my feet were out of their shoes and resting on top of my shoes (one less thing to worry about during the transition) in hopes to get some circulation back to them prior to standing. Finally I saw the white archway and was beyond ecstatic. I had conquered my biggest fear of the race, no bike troubles.
I headed straight towards a string of volunteers that were standing on either side of the archway. They grabbed my bike from me and directed me through towards the basketball courts where my T2 bag resided. Thankfully I didn’t fall down because I had no feeling in my feet whatsoever and my legs were felt like Jell-O. A volunteer handed me T2 bag as I headed towards my row and directed me towards the changing tent. Again I decided not to change in hopes to use that time spent towards my run since I would need every minute. I did decide to change into my running socks since they do provide a little more cushion than the socks I was wearing for my bike. So I grabbed the first seat I could find and having utilized the sock roll trick I learned from TNT I quickly slipped my socks, then my shoes while a volunteer sprayed a fresh coat of sunscreen on my back. I grabbed a clean pair of sunglasses, my Ironman running hat, and a fresh Garmin forerunner loaded to me by the awesome Kelly Miller. I grabbed a cup of water, thanked my personal volunteer and was out the tent at 9 hours and 50 min.
The moment of truth had now arrived. Prior to this race the longest I had ever run in my life was 14 miles. I also am a mental head case when it comes to running and it’s always a mind body battle the full race where my mind tells me it needs to walk yet my body isn’t even pushing to its full capacity yet. My personal goal was to run at least one of the half marathons since I knew I could run a full half marathon. I wanted to run as much of the marathon as I could but since I am a head case when it comes to running my major goal was to overcome this obstacle. The race plan for the run was to maintain a heart rate of 145 for the first three miles and then maintain a 150 for the duration with maximum heart rate of 155. Since your heart rate is always 10 beats higher than your bike ride heart rate I knew that this plan again would have to be modified. I figured since I went up 5 beats from my original game plan on the bike I would do the same for the run.
My heart rate was pushing 150 as I exited the transition area and headed away from the throng of cheering spectators for the 2 mile turnaround, then back to the park. I was feeling good and wanted to run but my heart rate was telling a different story, and I had a full 26 miles ahead of me so I decided I better back off. The whole run is overlapped so as I was starting the run I looked head on to the lucky participants who were heading out for their second lap. I refused to start out the run on a negative note so looked straight ahead and focused on my race. I do triathlons to beat only one person, myself, if I happen to not come in last than great. I repeatedly told myself that the second loop would be nice because the sun will have gone down and it would be much cooler. I didn’t think that this race was particularly hot compared to other races I have done like Pacific Crest but I’m sure at mile 15 the cooler weather would be much appreciated.
As I headed back to the park approaching mile 3, you would have never known whether I was the athlete that was going to bring home the gold or the turtle that was pulling up the year, the screams were just as loud and the spectators were just as large. I fought pushing harder because in my mind I looked like a slacker by walking but I refused to let my ego win. I had no idea what had in store for me and I refused to have a DNF on my results page so once again I forced myself to stay the course. I ended up doing a lot of walking and jogging for the first 13 miles in order to keep my heart rate at 155 but it bode well in my favor because I never had muscle fatigue or cramping. My feet were miserable and I could feel blisters mounting within the first 5 miles of the run but nothing I couldn’t push through. As I approached the 13 mile marker I once again saw my personal fan club just glowing. My mom was shooting pictures and Val ran on the outside of the barricade with me for short ways throwing out motivational praises. As I made the first milestone of the run, making the time cutoff for the turnaround by about 45 min, I decided it was time to kick it up a notch.
I decided it was time to reach my personal goal of running the last full half marathon since I had walked a large portion of the first half marathon. I pushed my heart rate up to about 160 and decided that if I started to cramp at all or other issues started occurring I would back off to the original plan. As I approached the special needs bag at mile 14 I decided not to stop. The only food that I had brought with me on the run was a little bottle full of electrolytes that I would take every other aid station with a full serving of gel and would have water at every aid station which was stationed about a mile apart. I knew I was not in taking sufficient fluids or nutrients during this portion of the race but there’s nothing more I could do. I just hoped that it would be enough to prevent problems from occurring
I saw the motivational faces of my mom and Val one last time before heading out toward the bike trail turnaround which again reminded me of all those cheering for me back home and I got my second wind. After mile 15 I refused to focus on the 11.2 miles that lay ahead of me but by breaking it up into smaller increments so the first mile post I had to make it to was 18. This was the point in which I was told a person starts hating life so I told myself I would start drinking the cola at this point. This actually scared me quite a bit since I had never trained with cola before but I was hoping the caffeine would give me a little extra umph. Mile 18 came and I officially switched to cola. My stomach had a hard time processing it at first and I started to have a mild abdominal cramping but still had a second dose of cola at mile 19 hoping that it would subside. Once I hit mile 19 the volunteers announced over the intercom that we had 45 min to make it to the turn around. I began to panic a little since it was pitch black by this point and I had no idea how far away the turnaround was. The only light that I had was the glow stick that was hanging around my neck which didn’t reflect any light whatsoever so tripping over something, rolling an ankle or any of the above was a complete possibility but I refused to let any of these thoughts enter my mind. I just continued to put one foot in front of the other and looked straight ahead into the emptiness hoping to see the lights of the last aid station before the short hill climb to the top of the turnaround. To add to the panic my stomach cramps began to worsen so I was forced to walk for a short distance in hopes that they would alleviate which thankfully they did. As I saw the lights of the aid station a rush of relief washed over me yet I still didn’t know what time it was, it could be only a matter of minutes before the strike of 10:30 which was the cut-off and I still had half a mile to go beyond that aid station. My legs had turned on autopilot at mile 15 so I had no idea how fast I was going and pushing harder was an impossibility or so I thought so it would be shear will and drive that got me to the drop and thankfully that was enough. I reached the top of the hill as the volunteers stated that we had 12 min to spare. I wanted to stop and hug every single one of them but I refrained because really who wants to be hugged by a sweaty stranger. I made the turnaround with a large smile spreading across my face and letting my legs soak in the joy of the downhill. As I reached the bottom of the hill I realized that I only had 5.2 miles to go! As I hit mile post 22 there was a huge electronic billboard that would flash motivational messages to athletes and I saw one appear specifically for me as I crossed the timing pad that read “E. Soltero, you are my hero.” Tears began to surface as I grabbed my cola which thankfully my stomach had become accustomed to and let myself revel in the moment. I again thought of all those people cheering for me and wondered if they all realized how much their cheers had carried me through this.
Once again I was off and letting my feet lead the way in utter darkness. There were only a few athletes left on the course and only a few spectators staying up to see the last of the participants. Even though the crowds had dispersed those that were left still made me feel like I was a superstar. Again it didn’t matter if I was first or last they all thought we were pros for being out there. I passed mile 25 and finally let myself believe that I was going to make the time cutoff that I was going to be an ironman. I wanted to push harder but I couldn’t my legs and feet had gone numb quite some time ago. I just motivated myself to stay the course and finish strong. I rounded the last corner and say the crowd reemerged. I was once again in light and the spectators had lined up clear back to that final turn which was about 600 yards from the actual finish line. Suddenly something emerged and I was sprinting to the white arches (or as much as you can sprint after 140.6 miles). I passed through the first archway and say the bleachers filled with fans and supporters. There was a row of outstretched hands reaching over the gates so I decided I was going to finish like a rock star since I felt like a rock star all day and went along the row slapping all of those outstretched hands and running across the final timing pad of the day as that precious phrase was announced “Elizabeth Soltero: You are an Ironman!”. As I crossed I was wrapped in a space blanket as I was engulfed in a bear hug by the volunteer which I was eternally grateful for because I don’t think I could have stopped on my own. The first female finisher placed a medal around my neck which I was unaware was her at that point in the day, and I was handed a finishers shirt and hat. The volunteer the ushered me to the finisher photo area and placed me in front of the backdrop. Standing stark still since I was afraid I might keel over at any minute night I grinned with delight as it sunk in that I was in fact an ironman. After that first triathlon three years ago I vowed that I would one day finish an ironman and now I had.
It has now been exactly a week post race and I am recovering nicely. After three days of not being able to walk and two days of very little sleep I am on my way to recovery. I have had a hard time waking up in the morning and not training since it has been a part of my life for the past four months but I am eager to get back on the road, on the bike, and in the water to start training for the next endeavor.
Not only did I achieve my dream that night but I proved to myself that anything is possible when you set your mind to it. I was scared to death going into this race of all the unknowns, all the was beyond my control, and wondering if I really had the ability to pull this off. I felt that my training wasn’t as sufficient as it could have been because of school or work obligations. But fear didn’t stop me, this was my dream and if I didn’t achieve it that night then I would just sign up again and again until I had claimed the title of Ironman. I overcame my mental stupor and pushed past the point of giving up or walking. I reached down deep and had to rely on the warrior within and achieved a goal that is to date my largest accomplishment.
So I have been asked what now? My response since I have successfully conquered being an ironman in the USA, I need to become an Ironman in a different country. However, this goal is going to have to wait a few years until I have successfully completed nursing school since it was too much of a challenge and stress to fit in homework, training, and work.
So this is a snippet of my journey to achieve the Ironman title. I wouldn’t have been able to achieve this goal without my mentor and coach Linnea Alvord and the support of my parents, my sister, my niece, family and friends . If you take anything away from this report let it be to not let anything stand in the way of your dreams especially fear. “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.”
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