Ironman Canada 07 - Race Report

As I approach the Ironman Canada finish line, it is hard not to notice the emptiness of Lakeshore Boulevard; the crowds have gone home after their tiring day of cheering and encouraging, the fences are almost all down and the finish line is being packed up. There is no voice over the speakers announcing my arrival. The timing clock is still going though, and it shows my time – just over 17 and a half hours – 30 minutes past the official cut-off time. It is one of the best moments of my life.

I had never thought of the day as a race, more like a test of the months of training – to see if I was in fact capable of completing the 3.8 km swim, 180 km ride and 42.2 km run. I knew the day was going to be physically challenging, but I had no idea how hard it was going to be mentally and emotionally.

Ask any triathlete and they will probably tell you that the swim is their weakest of the three disciplines, as well as their least favourite. Swimming is my strength, so the thought of completing the swim in Lake Okanagan with 2700 people, the largest swim start in Ironman history, didn’t faze me. I finished the swim in a little over an hour, 7^th in my age group and 403^rd overall. Of course I didn’t know my official position as I got on my bike, but I could tell I had beaten some very strong racers out of the water as they started catching me on the bike. It was hard to not follow their pace in the excitement, but I knew I had to settle into my own tempo otherwise I’d be in for a very rough day.

I was having one of my best rides in a long time. I was able to keep a comfortable and steady pace all the way to Osoyoos. Richter Pass felt more like a bump in the road instead of the 11 km hill that it is. I was above my planned pace at the half-way point and I was feeling strong and confident. At 140 kilometres, things started going badly for me. The winds had been ferocious, greatly reducing my speed and for some reason I was having problems with swelling in my hands, making it almost impossible to get water, fuel and electrolytes out of my bottles. The result was that my hamstrings were in spasm and I ended up having to walk up a good portion of the gruelling climb to Yellow Lake. A race official reminded me of the 5:30 cut-off time and at this point I was worried that I wouldn’t make it. I was terrified at facing the crowds and my supporters if I didn’t make it, so I pushed through the pain and made the cut-off with minutes to spare.

The marathon is an out-and-back, so you get to see people on their way back in as you head out, or vice-versa for the faster athletes. As I headed out onto the course, many runners were already approaching the final stretch into the finish line. I had a hard time believing that these were some of the people I beat out of the water. I wished I was one of them but as I started seeing friends on their way back in, their words of encouragement perked me up.

Because of a stubborn injury to my foot, my plan was to walk the entire marathon, only running until the very end. By about 10 miles, I knew that finishing within the 17 hours was going to be almost impossible; I did the math over and over in my head hoping that I had miscalculated. I was at my lowest point of the day and I questioned continuing and was angry with myself for undertaking such a huge challenge. By the half-way point I had a decision to make: carry on and finish after midnight, or stop. Either way I would show as a “DNF” in the results.

The decision to keep going was easier than I thought it would be. I knew that if I stopped, I would never be able to live with myself so I fought through the physical and mental fatigue that was quickly setting in and kept my pace and my spirits up as best I could. Dustin and Terri came out to find me and as they drove alongside me, I began feeling more and more excited about finishing. My spirits were definitely rising.

When the fireworks that signify the official end of Ironman started, I was still about two miles away from the finish line. I thought watching the fireworks from the wrong side of the finish line would be hard; a reminder that I hadn’t finished within the official time. But as I watched them light up the sky, I knew what my reality was – that I had finished Ironman Canada and I was going to cross the finish line with my coaches, my best friend and another friend who had also raced that day. I couldn’t have asked for a better ending.

Ironman is more than a one day event. It is months of intense training. It is getting up before dawn almost every day to go to the gym or to the pool or out for a long ride or run. It is having priorities that sometimes don’t fit with your friends’. It is about making a commitment to yourself and following through with it every day, even when your body or mind isn’t on board. And even though you spend race day alone, it isn’t a solo event; you only get through it with a support team. My support team is so huge that it would be impossible to mention everyone by name without missing someone. So to the following I give my deepest thanks: to my amazing family, for their never-ending support and understanding; to my many friends, for putting up with early weekend nights and for joining me on early weekend rides and swims; to my coaches, trainers and RMT, for keeping me motivated, strong and limber. You all got me to the finish line.

Just after finishing. Not sure I knew where I was at this point.

Me & Karen enjoying a post-race brunch complete with bubbly. We fell asleep about 20 minutes later.