Ironman St George

As the emotions have finally started to subside I am finally able to put together a rational thought on my (thought to be) big A Race of the season, Ironman St George. 

In transition the day before the race.

This was a huge learning experience and documenting the day will be a challenge. I am not one to like making excuses for what did or didn’t happen. I have actually been spinning in circles figuring out HOW to write a blog post about the day- without writing every little thing that I don’t want to re read as an excuse- but when it comes down to the nitty gritty- the truth is that this is what I experienced on race day. And this is what led me to make the ultimate decisions that lead me to my first DNF.

Pre Race

This was the third running of Ironman St George- and 1700 athletes were registered to step into the water and take off at 7:00am on cinco de mayo. Everything seemed to be going a little too easy. Our last 30 min run felt AWESOME. I was right on my goal pace and with no achy pains.  Packing the transition bags was very stress free. Everything seemed to be in its place and ready to go.

Roo2 getting ready. I think there were only 2 more bikes on that rack in the morning.

My bike was working AWESOME. Shifting well- even felt great riding 404 front and back (this was my first race with race wheels---well first time riding with them also).

Usually JM and I rush around town getting our bikes dropped off before the required time along with our transition bags---we were so prepared that we found ourselves at noon saying…now what?

Jm and I were so relaxed the night before that we even went and saw a movie (the Avengers---must see).  After our movie we casually drove around town looking for a non-chain pasta place- found one- walked in- no wait. I just kept thinking how awesome everything was. Totally stress-free.

There was a Avengers party going on at the movie theater

JM at pre race dinner. 

Food was great. Lots of veggies. 

The biggest difference between this and any other race was that I was not afraid. I was so excited for the challenge. I wanted big hills. I wanted the elevation. I wanted a marathon run. I was so excited for the hurt. Well…I guess I got what I wanted.

Race Morning

We stayed at the Clarion and it offered a great shuttle service to the start of the swim (which was about 12 miles out of town) at Sand Hollow Reservoir. The morning was oddly anti-climatic. We were doing an Ironman- and it just didn’t feel like it. It’s hard to compare races- but I am comparing a third year ironman to two of the oldest and most recognized Ironman races- Canada and Kona. 

Sand Hollow Resivour's beautiful blue green water.

I got to my bike- there were 3 other bikes on my rack and it was just really lonely feeling. At least it would be easy to get to. I pumped my front Blackwell tubular404 to 100 and Cycleops powertap 404 to about 110. I had let out some of the air in my tires the night before- and my back was oddly low- around 40psi. I didn’t think anything of it- pumped it up and joined JM in finding a bathroom.

No lines at the bathrooms? Is something going on?

SWIM 56:

The lake was beautiful. Pretty calm day- clear water. The temp was around 63 and gave me quite a bit of shock when I got in. I’m not great with cold anything---and after about 30 seconds of a panic attack I got my stuff together and swam out to the starting buoy. JM and I started on front line -left side.

The gun went off and everything was great! No issues with people hitting or goggles or anything. I found some quick feet and decided to follow a bit.

I have this AWFUL habit of not doing any research about a race before starting it. I figured I wouldn’t be leading- so the swim course should be pretty self explanatory----right?

After about 10 minutes of following the feet they started to slow. I wasn’t comfortable swimming the pace anymore- I just knew that I had more in me- so I looked forward and saw a group of 3 about 15 yards ahead. Could have been a good or bad idea- but I decided that I would be mad at myself all day if I held back for no reason and didn’t take the risk in catching the group in front.

The biggest surprise of the day (or so I thought…) I caught them! What a happy moment. But with how quickly the happy moment happened- it disappeared. As soon as you round the first buoy, about 1000yds into the swim, you pretty much do a 180 and head back the way you were coming from via a huge rock in the middle of the lake. As soon as we turned I was smacked with a huge 3’ swell. I immediately stopped- looked forward and yelled (to no one in particular)- “WHAT IS GOING ON????” It was if we were just dropped into the middle of a stormy ocean. The group I was with had the exact same reaction. As soon as I yelled the guy next to me was expressing his surprise as well- “WHAT THE EFF? WHAT IS THIS?”

Obviously I stole this from twitter...haha.

My first thought was- they need boats out here now! People are going to drown in this! I am an experienced swimmer- and this is impossible. The stretch was about 3000yds straight into these monster waves.

The scary part was, other than my friend – whom I decided to swim next to at this point- (drafting just didn’t seem fair to anyone at this point)- there was NO ONE. No boats, no kayaks, and no one to make sure I was okay. It was me- and the water.  Raising my hand to be pulled out of the water didn’t seem like an option.

I later read that kayaks were flipping over- and paddle boarders were clinging to the buoys to stay afloat.  There were even buoys that had deflated from the wind and water.

I swam next to my friend for close to 20 minutes. We had the timing down. He breathed to his right, I to my left and we conquered through the swells together. The water flying off his arms pelted my face and I envisioned I was on one of my grandpa’s fishing boats in Alaska. I just kept thinking to myself- if I have this hard- so does everyone else. Just enjoy your swim and keep going.

We finally reached the big rock and all of a sudden I panicked. My goggles were fogged and the sun was in my face. I saw a buoy to my left but wasn’t sure if I needed to go straight or to the left. In these 20 seconds of panic, my friend had kept swimming and all of a sudden I realized I couldn’t see him. You really couldn’t see where you were going unless you were on the top of the swells- and I couldn’t see him. Automatically I started yelling? “WHERE DID YOU GO?! OH NO WHERE ARE YOU?!!!!” My first thought was that he went under. For 10 seconds of sheer fright I desperately searched around me trying to defog my goggles. “WILSON?! WILSON?!”  After what felt like an eternity I saw him ahead around 25 yards going straight.  Feeling a sense of relief I took off again towards him….and…I was alone.

WILSON?!

The rest of the swim was a mix of having the time of my life thinking I was in a weird dream- and fighting thoughts of being alone. What seemed like awhile I got to the end of the big rock and was rewarded with a 90-degree turn in towards the shore. I noticed a silver cap just bobbing in the water. The Pro wasn’t moving forward so I stopped to make sure he was okay- he was just hanging out I guess?

The body surf into T1 was awesome. You still felt like you were doing the worm from feet to head- but at least this was helping you out!

Getting out of the water I felt clever and licked my finger to find out which way the wind was blowing. My one joke for the day. I wish I could have kept that sense of humor- because as soon as I sat down in the change tent I begged the volunteers to get more boats out on the lake.

Turns out rumors were that 300 bikes were left in T1 after the swim portion.

BIKE 70 miles  5:18:00 66mi split

Bike- day before 

The bike course was originally what was giving me the most training stress. It essentially is a 20 mile route from the lake to a 45 mile loop out into a canyon that climbs up and up to “The Wall” (which is a mile hill ranging from 8-14% gradient) and then descends about 15 miles back to the second loop. The course is said to have gained 7000ft of vertical over the 112 miles of windy rough roads ranging from 3% to 14% gradient.

The first miles for me seemed to be fine. There was a bit of a head wind with a slight cross wind- but after yelling to some spectators about what the forecast was saying they ensured me that it was going to calm down as we headed towards St George. This gave me a little boost I needed.

This carried me until about mile 10 when I was climbing our first bigger climb when I dropped my chain. I have not done that since I first got my bike. After stopping to fix it I reached back to check my brakes and noticed that my tire was low. I hopped back on and pedaled a mile up to the first aid station and pumped it back up to 100.

I was a little nervous because I am not the best bike mechanic. If something were wrong with my bike…I could take a stab at it----but more than likely I wouldn’t be able to fix whatever was going wrong....not to mention be able to tell what was going wrong in the first place.

Around mile 15 I heard a really high pitch sound coming from my bike. It was really loud when I slowed down and came to turns. After stopping I realized WOW my back breaks are rubbing. That’s fun.

As if this wasn’t putting enough doubt in my brain I stopped at the next aid station at mile 20…and what do you know! My back tire was flat again! After a mini panic attack (and a few tears) an awesome volunteer helped me with pumping it up to 140psi. All I could think was- please, please stay full of air and breaks do NOT rub anymore.

As if it were the theme of the day, I got to stop two more times during the first 25 miles of the ride. Once more to fix a dropped chain and once more to fix more rubbing breaks- I just disconnected them this final time.

I have not had this many bike problems in my life, and this was not a day to be toying with my emotions.

Mile 30 brought us to the start of the first loop of the bike. Luckily we have this course to ride at home- so I knew that the miles 30-50 were going to be the most difficult- and once you finish the second you pretty much bring her on home. Everything I had heard about the canyon was that typically there wasn’t much wind through there. Rule #1: Never, ever, think that the course will be without wind. There is always wind.

Luckily for us- there was (from what I read) a 20mph consistant head wind with gusts up to 40mph.

I am not a strong biker in the wind. My biggest problem is that I don’t spend enough time in aero in gusty winds---because it scares me. People were FLYING past me. I probably spent the next 4:45 sitting up…when JM said he spent most of that time in aero because of the winds.  Ugh. I am so dumb.

There was no coasting either. Between the wind- and the hills- there was no break- just a constant load noise and constant effort.

This was also my first race using power. I trained quite a bit with power and thought that I had a reasonable goal for an average I could maintain and a comfortable climbing wattage that wouldn’t burn out my legs. Unlucky for me- I was so unbelievably flat. More flat than a normal recovery ride for me. This was something that I couldn’t shake. I am a numbers person. This totally broke me…and on a day where things were not seeming to go my way- I cracked.

Thank you Chris Mcdonald. I needed this.

These were some of the hardest miles I’ve ever put on my bike. I was fighting myself. My brain was saying to my body you cant do this- this isn’t your day. But my heart was saying you weenie don’t just quit. I had just put so much time training for these numbers to be showing. I kept saying to myself- “I am a better biker than this! I train so much harder than this!”

All of this lead me to mile 67. We had arrived in town from the first loop and the road ahead lead you out to the last 45 miles of the ride- road behind leading back into town. I stopped and put my head down on my aerobars. There was no way that I physically get myself peddling up the last hills. I was certain I would have to walk my bike up every hill. I felt shaky and unconfident.

Some spectators came up to me and tried talking me through finishing the bike. After coming to the realization that- this flat out was not my day I turned my bike up the hill back towards town. I have never been so mad and disappointed in myself. This was the admit of defeat. I let myself down.

Upon stopping for the last hill a volunteer came up and asked if I was okay. I replied I was heading back into town he asked for my timing chip. I leaned down, unclipped it, handed it to him and fell to the ground sobbing. Three people ran over picked me up off my knees and grabbed my bike. The emotional outburst surely did cause a scene. I was so embarrassed and exhausted and overly emotional but it all just didn’t seem to matter at the moment. I had let myself quit.

The first process I have been starting to work on have been my goals since the race. Although the day was not something I would like to experience again- I would sign up in a heart beat for IMSG 2013. I have unfinished business. I can conquer that course. I love climbing, and I love a challenge. Unfortunately, with them making this a 70.3 indefinitely- I will have to come to terms with my decision and keep trucking ahead towards my ultimate goals. 

Another pebble in my bucket of water.

I swear I ordered a Venti. I guess I needed it for our 14 hour drive home.

Love, Erin