Race Report: California International Marathon 2017 (AKA The Surprise PR!)

Posted by Chen

I’m going to be real trite here and say: Is this thing on?

It’s been nearly 2 years since I last posted on this blog, and I have to say – I miss the days of documenting our training and telling stories of our experiences (and mishaps) along the way! As such, I thought I’d pop back in and write a race report for my 6^th California International Marathon (CIM) and 32^nd marathon overall, which happened a couple weeks ago on Sunday, December 3rd.

Going into this race, I felt calm and strong, but given that I had also been run-streaking for 243 days, I had major doubts about whether I’d truly been able to taper while running a minimum of 3.1 miles every single day. I wasn’t stressing about that, though; I had very few expectations and figured it would just be an interesting exercise to see what happened when I trained for a race by streaking. After 31 marathons, it’s always good to mix things up J.

Despite my tempered hopes, I also knew that my training runs had gone pretty well this cycle. Between the Santa Rosa Marathon in August (during which it was a million degrees and I slogged through to a 3:56 finish) and CIM, I had 12 weeks of consistent tempo work and long runs, with several track/interval/hill sessions thrown in there for good measure. It was nice to see progress again after ~2 years of generally mediocre (read: lazy) running, and while I still thought my PR days were behind me prior to this race, I figured I would try for a BQ time (which for me in 2019 meant a 3:40, or a 3:36-3:37 if I wanted to guarantee a spot). Aging up has its perks!

One thing I love about CIM is that it’s relatively close to the Bay Area, making for a pretty casual race weekend routine. I’ve run this race every year since 2011 with the exception of 2015, which means I know exactly where I need to be and when. As a sometimes neurotic planner, that knowledge helps me minimize any logistics-related stress.

My general CIM weekend schedule consists of a shake out run Saturday morning, heading up to Sacramento after lunch, checking into my hotel downtown, walking to packet pick up at the convention center, and then finding delicious carbs as well as an adult beverage or two. And that adult beverage is key. Important part of training. This year, I did exactly that, and I found some very tasty Thai food at a place called Chic on Q. If you’re ever in downtown Sac-town, I highly suggest you check them out!

While we ate dinner in our hotel room, Will and I started watching a ridiculous movie (Unforgettable) with Katherine Heigl and Rosario Dawson that may as well have been on Lifetime. It was awesome in that awesomely bad kind of way, so I obviously had to stay up way too late to see how it ended. And it was actually kind of fascinating and I’m glad I did. But with that, it was really time for me to get my ass to bed, and I managed to fall asleep quite quickly.

Race day

Race morning came with an early wake-up call of 4am so that I could get ready and catch the 5am busses to Folsom, where the race would begin. For those not familiar with CIM, it’s a point-to-point course from Folsom to downtown Sacramento with a net downhill of ~400 feet and rolling hills throughout the first 21 miles (it levels out after that). I love rolling hills because they allow me to mix up my muscle usage, which for me means I fatigue less quickly. That said, this course is often billed as being a fast one and good for Boston Qualifying, which some people take to mean that it’s flat or all downhill. I assure you it is not! It certainly doesn’t have the hills of San Francisco, but be prepared for lots of little ups and downs.

Another thing I love about CIM is that they allow you to stay on the warm, heated busses until just before the race start (7am). That was a particularly nice feature to have that morning given that it was in the upper 30s, and we weaksauce Californians can’t hang with that. We arrived in Folsom around 5:50am or so, and I was still so sleepy that I ended up taking a legit nap until 6:20am (you know you’re relaxed pre-race when that accidentally happens!).

When I woke up and saw that I was one of maybe 3 people left on the bus, I decided I should probably get this show on the road. Perhaps the thing I love the MOST about CIM is the seemingly never-ending line of porta-potties that they have at the start. It seriously takes many minutes to walk from one end of the porta-potty row to the other, and as a runner whose worst nightmare is pooping my pants mid-race, it’s like a fantasy come true. I found a line that seemed shorter, made it through within 20 minutes, reluctantly took off my warm sweats, and bag checked my gear.

I headed towards the starting area and found the 3:37 pacer, figuring I’d stay somewhere around that group for a while. I don’t actually like running WITH pace groups, because I find people can be oddly territorial about their position near the pacer, and in crowded races with narrow streets, it can be impossible to get around them. However, I knew the CIM course well enough to know that the streets would be wide enough for me to find my own space while still having someone to follow.

The national anthem was pretty cool this year, as it was played by the trumpet player from Cake (who I never knew was local to Sac-town!). That was followed by another gem of a moment, when just before the gun went off, to pump up the crowd, they played “Call Me Maybe” by Carly Rae Jepsen. I was moderately obsessed with that song back in 2012 (just ask Rachel about the shenanigans I pulled at her wedding), and it was another hint that maybe this would be a good day.

The gun went off at 7am sharp like it always does, and I promised myself I would follow my (loose) plan of keeping it VERY easy for the first couple miles before settling into a steady pace. I clocked in at 8:16 and 8:20 for my first two, which was definitely faster than I’d planned for, but the effort level was right. After that, I naturally picked up the pace to the low 8’s, which was again faster than I’d anticipated, but it felt quite easy, so I went with it.

One thing I noticed early on was that even though I was picking up my pace, the 3:37 group was still in front of me, meaning the pacer was WAY ahead of goal time, and I knew from that point on that I couldn’t rely on him and needed to monitor my own Garmin. PSA to pacers everywhere: Don’t be like that guy.

I don't actually have any idea when this photo was taken. Let's pretend it was taken early on.

Although I was keeping my effort steady, I noticed that my pace slipped to the 8:1X’s during miles 7-9, which normally would have made me nervous, leading to all sorts of self doubt and negative thoughts. One thing I’ve tried to work on with my running lately is my mental game, and I think that played a huge role in my ability to PR that day. Instead of worrying that I was already falling apart before mile 10, I reassured myself that I was still running at an easy effort and that my slip in pace 1) wasn’t that dramatic (like, seriously, Chen – get a grip), and 2) probably had to do with the hills at that point in the race. That tactic worked – I let it go, and I subsequently saw my pace drop back down into the low 8’s after that. And if I did see an occasional mile in the 8:1X’s, I reminded myself that this entire race had already gone faster than anticipated and that I was still feeling good.

1 – 8:16

2 – 8:20

3 – 7:58 (downhill)

4 – 8:03

5 – 8:02

6 – 8:04

7 – 8:11

8 – 8:14

9 – 8:11

10 – 7:57

Mile 10 is one of my favorite moments in the race, when you make a big turn in Fair Oaks and see a ton of people cheering and screaming their faces off for you. Marathon spectators are the best (and marathon volunteers are the bestest). That turn is quickly followed by one of the largest and longest climbs of the race, but I put my head down, reminded myself that I lived in SF for 8 years and that this was nothing, and got over that hill at a steady effort.

This was definitely taken like two seconds after the photo above. Again, let's keep pretending.

After that, I fell into a groove, and things were generally a blur through the middle miles. At that point, I had thrown away the disposable water bottle that I always start with, meaning that I had to actually utilize the water stops. It's always comical during a goal race when you don’t want to waste too much time stopping, so you try to run through them but just end up spilling electrolytes all over yourself. Word to the wise: Just stop, drink, and start up again. It doesn’t actually take that much extra time, and you end up in a much more hydrated place J.

11 – 8:01

12 – 8:08

13 – 8:02

14 – 8:01

15 – 8:11

16 – 7:55

17 – 8:02

18 – 8:05

19 – 7:57

20 – 8:04

I remember hitting the area around 19 or 20 when they always have a large inflatable brick wall for you to run through, and I was amazed at how strong I still felt. This is usually the point in a race when I know if I’m going to negative split (a rarity) or if I’m going to blow up (yep, usually), and this time, I told myself that this was where the real race began.

Another part of my mental game focus has been telling myself that marathons are supposed to hurt, and that when the pain sets in, you should just expect it and embrace it, rather than let it get you down. So when I slowly picked up the pace further into sub-8:00 territory and finally started feeling the fatigue that I normally feel in marathons, I let it happen, told myself it was normal, and kept going.

At this point, I had long passed the 3:37 group and was coming up on the 3:32 group, and I started to do some mental math. A PR (which at the time was 3:31:12) still seemed out of the question, but I figured something in the low-to-mid 3:30s was still possible, which would far surpass my expectations for the day, and that gave me an extra boost.

It looks like I'm trying harder in this photo, plus it's sunnier out, so let's assume this happened later in the race.

It wasn’t until mile 24 that I realized a PR was actually possible (I was still in disbelief/shock about that even as it was going down in front of me), so I decided to give it everything I had left and ran my last 2.33 miles at tempo pace, which I never imagined I could do at the end of a full marathon. As I made the last turn towards the state capitol, I sprinted it in and crossed the line with a new PR of 3:30:51. Even as I received my medal and post-race treats, I was still in disbelief but also incredibly elated with the entire race experience.

21 – 8:04

22 – 7:59

23 – 7:53

24 – 7:54

25 – 7:37

26 – 7:24

26.33 – 7:02

Overall time: 3:30:51 (8:01 Garmin pace, 8:03 official)

Yay for free race videos from which you can steal a free screenshot!

As I said before, I legitimately thought my days of PRing were over (because let’s be honest, we’re getting old here), but after this race, I’m eager to see if I can finally run a sub-3:30. This has been a goal of mine since marathon #2 (goal for marathon #1 was to simply not die), because there was a time in my life when running a single sub-8:00 mile seemed impossible. To hold that pace for 26.2 would mean a lot to me, and I think I can do it. I just need to do what I did this time and not flake on my speed work every single week J.

In terms of what’s next, I’ve been keeping up the run streak (today was Day 256!) but plan to keep it easy until the New Year. At that point, I’ve signed myself up for a strength training program and am really eager to see how that impacts my running. I will likely sign up for Mountains 2 Beach in May and then CIM again in December (creature of habit), so I’ll have a couple of shots on goal in 2018.

Until then, I plan to consume my body weight in wine. Every week. Cheers, and happy holidays, everyone!

Race Report: San Diego Holiday Half Marathon (AKA that time I signed up for a race less than 24 hours before the start)

Posted by Chen

Oh hey, blog world! Remember me? I didn’t intend to abandon this site for so long, but when you stop working out for 4 months, you don’t really have much value to add to a training blog :-P.

Before I get into my race report, you might be wondering what I’ve been up to since the Ironman. Well, post-vacation (see Rachel’s amazing recap), I returned to normal life and intentionally took August mostly off. I won’t lie - it was glorious! Lots of seeing friends I hadn’t seen in a while, eating delicious food, and drinking all of the wine.

Once September rolled around, I diligently made a 12-week training plan for the California International Marathon (CIM), just like I’d done every year since 2011. I’ve always loved training for and running this race (it holds two of my marathon PR experiences!), but this year, it just wasn’t meant to be. To make a long story short, life got in the way; my motivation remained at an all time low, and I ended up deferring my entry to 2016. I also managed to not run the Healdsburg Half Marathon for other life reasons (though the rest of Team Running for the Win(e) ran it and crushed it!).

Running and I were officially in a fight.

Then, about a month ago, I went through a pretty difficult personal time, but instead of abandoning running further, I took it back up with a vengeance. It came crashing back into my life during a time when I needed it the most, and I couldn’t be more grateful. I’m currently on a running streak (27 days and counting!), and I’m reminded on a daily basis why I love this sport so much.

Most of my runs have been untimed and easy, which is exactly what I’ve needed. No pressure – just running for the pure joy and calm of running. I know I won’t be able to keep this streak up once I start my next marathon training cycle, but for now, it’s allowing me to get out there every day, process my thoughts, and heal.

My next few months will see the Austin Half Marathon with a Princeton friend in February, the Oakland Marathon with Rachel in March, and my goal race – the Mountains 2 Beach Marathon in May, where I will try to finally break 3:30 after years of failed attempts. Side note: I’ve already convinced one of my coworkers to run M2B as well – hi Chris! :-)

Given this upcoming race schedule, I’ve been trying to increase my weekly mileage as well as my long runs throughout this running streak. I was aiming to run 14 this weekend, so when I realized yesterday that the San Diego Holiday Half Marathon was happening today, I decided to sign up on a whim. I’ve had some pretty impulsive race sign-up experiences in the past (hello, first M2B experience), but this one probably takes the cake. I registered for the race at 11am, and 20.5 hours later, I was toeing the starting line.

Was hoping this shirt would magically help me fly :-)

I ran this race a couple years ago, so I generally knew what to expect when it came to the course and race logistics. The starting line is only 4 miles from my parents’ house, so I didn’t have to get up too terribly early to make it to the 7:30am start.  Parking was a bit more nightmarish this time (the race must have grown since 2013), so I had to walk ~0.6 miles from my car to the starting area, which left no time to wait in the porta-potty lines. I kind of expected that might happen, though, so I purposely didn’t drink anything until right before the start, and everything worked out OK (contrast that to my 2013 race experience, when I had to use the porta-potties no fewer than five times. Lesson learned – there IS such a thing as too much fiber).

I did have time for a 1-mile warm-up to hit 14 for the day, and I arrived back to the starting area just in time to hear the national anthem. I inched my way into the right corral, reset my Garmin, and at 7:30am, we were off.

I knew the course was a fast one with a net drop of over 700ft, though it had some considerable rolling hills throughout. I didn’t really know what to expect in terms of a time, but based on my 12-miler with Rachel last weekend when we averaged an 8:29 pace while talking the whole time, I figured that a sub-1:50 might be a reasonable goal. That said, I didn’t pay much attention to pace early on and instead wanted to keep the effort easy – I basically didn’t want to be breathing hard unless I was going uphill.

Very reminiscent of M2B; just half as long!

When my first few miles clocked in in the low 8’s, I was surprised, but I continued to keep things easy. The last time I’d run 14 miles in a single day was over 5 months earlier, so I needed to play it safe, at least for the time being. The crowd slowly thinned out as we made our way onto the bike path that would take us to the beach, and I found myself getting into a groove. I took in the lovely scenery and chuckled at fellow runners who were in costume or in funny shirts, including a green painted Grinch and a dude whose shirt said, “I didn’t ask for this present.” For the record, I would LOVE to receive a race registration as a gift!

Mile 1: 8:08

Mile 2: 8:06

Mile 3: 8:14

Mile 4: 7:45 (way downhill – as in, elevation loss: 184ft; elevation gain: 0ft)

Mile 5: 8:00

During the middle miles, I was still feeling strong, so I allowed myself to pick the effort level up a bit. Every time I glanced at my Garmin and saw a pace in the 7’s, I would start to get a little nervous (because let’s be honest: after 4 months off, I had no business running anything that started with a 7), but then I’d remind myself that running by feel usually results in a smart race, so I kept on.

Mile 6: 7:54

Mile 7: 8:04

Mile 8: 7:51

Mile 9: 7:42

Mile 10: 8:01

After mile 10, I was still feeling good, so I decided to kick it into high gear to see what I had left. I knew by this point that a sub-1:45 was possible, and by Mile 12, I knew that a sub-1:44 was in the cards if I could just… hold… on. I haven’t done ANY tempo work since July, and I was being reminded of just how badly tempo work can hurt. It was painful, but it was also a good kind of pain – the type of pain that reminds you what you are capable of. I was expecting to average an 8:20 pace this morning and instead ran my last full mile in 7:24 - who knew I still had that pace in me! My overall time was far from my fastest, but I crossed the finish line feeling just as elated as if I’d run a personal best.

Mile 11: 7:39

Mile 12: 7:43

Mile 13: 7:24

Mile 13.16: 6:47

Overall time: 1:43:37 (~7:53 average pace; ~7:55 official pace)

I’ll run a race that ends at the ocean any day <3

I'm not sure when I'll decide to end my running streak, and I have yet to put together a training plan for either Austin or M2B, but there's one thing I do know: Running and I are no longer in a fight ;-).

2015 IM Canada – Race Report (Chen’s version)

Posted by Chen

I am an IRONMAN!!!

Bananas, people. This Ironman thing is bananas.

I’m so happy that all of us finished (especially given the weather conditions – more on that later), and I’ll always look back on this whole training cycle and race experience with a huge sense of accomplishment. However, it’s extremely safe to say that I will never do an Ironman again. I had a wonderful experience with it – even more wonderful than I ever thought possible. But this is one of those things that I’m perfectly fine with doing once, and only once.

Backing up to the beginning…

Pre-race

I’ve never been this nervous before a race. Ever. With running races, even marathons, I can generally anticipate what might go wrong and what I would do in response to each situation, but with this IM – I HAD NO F-ING CLUE. Would I panic during the swim and have to pull out? Would I get a flat on the bike and spend an hour trying to change it? What if I got multiple flats and ran out of tubes? What if I got to the run and my stomach decided to revolt? What if my legs just decided to stop working all together? I’ve seen all of those YouTube videos of professional Ironman athletes literally crawling across the finish line – what if that happened to me???

No matter how much I tried to convince myself that I had trained for this and that I was physically and mentally ready, I just wasn’t having it. I remained a bundle of nerves for days and went to bed Saturday night feeling like this race might just take me out.

Despite my nervousness, though, I did manage to fall asleep relatively quickly and got some decent rest before my alarm went off at 3:30am. We all did our usual pre-race routine and then left the house around 4:55am to head to the shuttles. After body marking and a brief porta-potty stop, we boarded the buses to head to T1.

At this point, the weather was still cooperating – overcast with an occasional light drizzle, but nothing to write home about. Most of the forecasts that we’d stalked (and I do mean stalk) stated an 80% chance of rain, with the highest chance around 10-11am, but mainly in the form of showers. Seemed easy enough to deal with [foreshadowing: the science of meteorology still needs some work].

Once at T1, we made sure all of our gear was in the right places and then proceeded through our porta-potty rounds until it was time to get in the water to warm-up.

At 6:40ish, we headed in the direction of the three small buoys that marked the starting line for the swim. After a few warm-up strokes to test the chop (there wasn’t nearly as much as there had been on Friday – score!), Katie and I lined up behind the middle buoy but WAY to the back of the pack. And by that, I mean that there were literally only like three people further back than us. We met some other friendly athletes with a similar “I don’t want to get pummeled” mindset and made some small talk while we watched the pro men go off at 6:50am and the pro women at 6:55am.

While I was hoping that time would magically slow down via some sort of space-time expansion, the clock inevitably struck 7:00am, and the age group gun went off as scheduled. This was it. It was time to do an f-ing Ironman.

The swim

It took me a few dozen yards to actually reach the starting line itself since we had started so far back. While there was a little bit of congestion to get there, it wasn’t terrible, so I just put my head down and started swimming. I found myself surrounded by far more athletes than I had planned for (I guess it’s hard to avoid 1700+ other people all trying to get to the same buoy that you’re targeting), but I focused on staying calm and tried to think happy thoughts.

As I did at the Catfish Open Water Swim, I also focused on maintaining my usual pattern of bilateral breathing every three strokes in order to stick with what I was used to and remind myself that this was just like any other swim workout. My wetsuit was there to support me, and there was no need to freak out. Hear that? DON’T FREAK OUT, CHEN.

It probably took me until the first turn buoy to figure out how to continually navigate through people and get into a rhythm, but once I did, I felt good and knew that I would get through this swim without a panic attack. Thank the good lord. It helped that everyone around me was really considerate – every time someone accidentally hit me, they would immediately back off, and I would do the same. I like to think of us as the “oh sorry, you go,” “oh no you go, please” crowd.

I managed to get more towards the outside of the pack as we finished the first loop, which made me feel even more comfortable with my situation. As we made the turn to start the second loop, I glanced briefly at my Garmin to see how I was doing and saw that it wasn’t on the swim screen and just said “Triathlon.” Thanks, Garmin. I’m aware that I’m currently doing a triathlon. The screen did have a very small running clock, though, which read around 41 minutes, so I knew I was doing just fine.

The rest of the second loop was pretty uneventful, but I did notice the rain pick up quite a bit. It clearly didn’t affect the swim at all since we were, you know, already covered in water, but when we made the final turn towards the shore, I realized just how much the weather conditions had worsened. While most of the swim had very little chop, this last leg into shore had straight up ocean-like waves. I felt like I was being tossed around like a rag doll and kept inhaling water when I tried to breathe or sight. This normally would have freaked me out, but I was so close to being done that I just kept pushing forward towards land.

Eventually, I started to see the ground come into view, and soon after that, it was time to stand up. Holy crap – my IM swim was over! Seven months of learning to swim properly and practicing over and over and over, and it all came down to this. And I couldn’t have been happier with how it went. My Garmin said that I swam well over 4600 yards – if that’s accurate, it meant that I swam waaaaaaay wide, but oh well. Better that than an elbow to the face.

Swim time: 1:25:43

(Official pace of 2:02/100yd, but 1:50/100yd according to Garmin; real pace probably somewhere in between)

T1

After getting stripped of my wetsuit and grabbing my T1 bag, I headed into the changing tent, where a kind volunteer directed me towards an empty chair. I took my sweet @$$ time getting changed and making sure I had everything I needed for the bike. As I exited the tent and headed towards the porta-potties, I heard Brandon and Rachel’s family yell my name. I made sure they were aware of the fact that I was eating food as I walked into a porta-potty (no one ever said this sport was glamorous), took care of business, and then came back out and went over to them to chat for a minute or so before finally walking off to get Bert the Bike.

As I walked Bert out of transition, I noticed that it was raining pretty hard, but I was still warm from the swim, so I didn’t really think anything of it at the time. I walked past the mount line, hit the lap button on my Garmin, and I was off to do the longest outdoor ride of my life.

T1 time: 14:59

(Hahaha. Beat that.)

The bike

We exited Rainbow Park and turned right onto Alta Lake Road to begin our first mini-climb of the day. Despite the rain, I was feeling fine as we turned right onto 99 South and started our first of two large out and backs. This part was rolling down, and I started to get colder and colder with every descent. It was down pouring by this point, and I felt puzzled, as this rain felt much heavier than the forecasted “showers.”

At the half-hour mark, when I usually start to eat on a ride, I also discovered that I had forgotten to open my Ziploc bag full of prepared Clif Bars and tried to open it while on the move. However, I had sealed that thing SHUT to keep dry overnight, and this was also when I learned that I had very little use of my hands due to the cold. After trying for a couple minutes, including trying to open it with my mouth, I decided that it wasn’t going to happen.

I knew that under-fueling would be the end of me on the bike, so I decided to pull over and open the bag with both hands. It was hard for me to do even that, and then when I got to my Clif Bars, I realized they were all but frozen together. What the hell was happening?

As I pried a chunk from the brick ‘o chocolate chip Clif Bars, a spectator came over to see if I was OK, and I assured him that I was just trying to eat. At the same time, I heard another spectator behind him chuckle “oooohhh cookie monster… me want cookie...” I couldn’t decide if he was referring to me and if I should be offended, but then I decided it was pretty hilarious. After all, I WAS about to inhale 1680 calories of chocolate chip Clif Bars over the next 7.5 hours.

After making sure that I had access to food, I pulled onto the road again and continued to tackle the rolling descent. The jacket I was wearing was not at ALL waterproof, and I was already fully soaked. I remember thinking to myself “there’s no way I can finish this race if these conditions continue,” but I also remembered that the rain was supposed to die down towards the middle of the day, so I figured that I just had to suck it up, and I kept trudging on.

In retrospect, I don’t think I fully recognized just how bad the conditions were at the time, because I was doing my first Ironman, and I figured it was going to be hard. Me feeling somewhat bad didn’t seem like it was out of the ordinary for a 140.6-mile race, so I thought that maybe I was just being a wimp. However, reading through the online forums afterwards made it clear that this was one of the worst race days that even seasoned IM veterans had seen, and it turns out that well over 400 athletes (of the nearly 2000 registered) either didn’t start or didn’t finish.

Everyone handles weather differently, and fortunately for me, I deal with cold and rain much better than I deal with heat and humidity (when working out, that is), so I was able to get through without suffering from any major issues. Aside from feeling very cold and somewhat miserable, I don’t think I was actually ever at risk of hypothermia or anything more serious.

Also, reading through Rachel’s race report made me realize that those who had swum faster were forced to face these terrible conditions for a much longer period of time. The rain had picked up while I was still swimming, but thanks to the water being 67 degrees, the swim portion ended up being the warmest leg of the day, so I was only affected by biting downpours for maybe an hour or so on the bike. Moral of the story: it pays to suck at swimming sometimes!

Anyway, despite being generally OK, I was very much looking forward to our first climb up Callaghan, because it was an opportunity for me to generate some body heat. Aside from a few steep stretches, the climb was pretty reasonable, and it was the first time that I thought that maybe this bike course wouldn’t be as beastly as I’d made it out to be in my mind. That said, I knew that Callaghan was supposed to be considerably easier than the final climb from Pemberton back to Whistler at mile 90, so I continued on with my hyper-conservative pacing plan.

It was great to see Rachel, Travers, and Matt coming back down Callaghan as I was climbing (I somehow missed Mark), and the turnaround point came along relatively quickly. While I normally look forward to the end of a climb, I was actually kind of sad when it was over, as the rain still hadn’t let up, and I was genuinely concerned for my safety as I made my way back down the hills. I could see sheets of water flowing over the road, and like Rachel, I wondered if hydroplaning on a road bike was a thing.

This was actually my first time biking in any sort of precipitation, so I just played it super safe with my speed, and I managed to make it back down without any issues. At some point during the descent, I heard someone singing “Eye of the Tiger,” and I looked over to see Katie smiling and looking super strong (“Eye of the Tiger” was the song that Matt and I played to pump ourselves up before our first marathon back in 2009). I yelled out a “woot!” and wished her a great ride, though it turns out that we would stay with one another for the next 40 miles or so, which was awesome.

After descending, we turned left onto 99 North and rolled back upwards towards the Olympic Village in Whistler. This stretch was pretty uneventful, aside from the fact that the lane they had marked off for us included the middle divider of the road, which had some slippery yellow lines and divots for the reflectors. I’m terrible at bike handling, so this made for some tricky passing conditions, but I made it through without falling on my face or causing someone else to fall on his/her face, so, #winning.

Once we passed by the village, we had the whole driving lane of the road to ourselves, and we soon started the descent into Pemberton. By this point, the rain had let up; I was starting to dry out, and things were starting to look up. Having Katie there with me made it feel more like any other training ride rather than an intense Ironman race, and I was able to relax a bit, chat with Katie, and take in the scenery around us.

At the bottom of the descent was the special needs station, where I picked up my precious bag of sour cream and onion chips and savored in its delicious, oniony saltiness. I didn’t want to spend too much time standing still and getting cold, so I shoved the bag into my jacket pocket and continued to eat chips in between bites of Clif Bar for the next hour or so. Mmmmm salt.

The next 30+ miles were completely flat, with the first half having a tailwind and the second half having a pretty nasty headwind (nasty for us, anyway – sounds like it was lighter earlier on for the faster athletes). However, I didn’t actually know that we had a tailwind on the way out, and I was wondering why 17-18mph felt so easy. I knew I needed to play it conservative here in order to have enough energy for the final climb, so the speeds we were hitting were making me a little nervous. It felt OK, though, so I went with it. Everything became clear when we turned around and I immediately struggled to hit 14-15mph. Ballsack.

While I had acquired aerobars several weeks prior to race day (admittedly way too late), I never actually got to test them out thanks to my bike fall during our last long ride. This flat stretch would have been the perfect time to go into aero, but I felt too nervous and didn’t think it would be a good idea to test things out for the first time in the middle of an Ironman, so I would end up just carting those things around for 112 miles. Brilliant.

I lost Katie at some point during this return stretch, and I realized that I would have to face the final climb back into Whistler alone. I had no idea what to expect, but as we started to ascend, I once again learned that it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as I’d made it out to be. There were certainly some steep stretches, but most grades were fine, and they were also broken up by nice stretches of downhills. At this point, I thought about all of our training rides in the Bay Area and was SO thankful that we had prepared ourselves properly for this course.

While the overall climb was pretty long (13-14 miles), it actually passed by pretty quickly (the whole ride did, actually), and soon it was time for the final rolling uphill stretch back to the Olympic Village. Right at the end of the ride, I saw Brandon and Rachel’s family cheering from an overpass, and I gave them a big smile as I went underneath. BECAUSE IT WAS FINALLY TIME FOR THE BEST SPORT EVER!!!

Going under the final underpass

Bike time: 7:28:04

(15.0 mph)

T2

After dismounting my bike and placing my Garmin back on my wrist, I gladly handed Bert over to another super awesome volunteer (the volunteers were truly the best). I grabbed my T2 bag and headed into the changing tent, where another volunteer found some open space for me. While I had originally planned on wearing my tri kit for the full race, nothing sounded better than fresh, dry running clothes at that point, so I made a full change. I took my time once again, made another porta-potty stop (I had been holding it in for the entire bike ride), and got sunscreened up.

I couldn’t believe I had actually gotten through both the swim and the bike without facing any major obstacles, and now all I had to do was run a marathon! I know marathons; I can DO marathons. It was on.

T2 time: 9:23

The run

I had no idea how my legs would feel at the start of the run, as I had never run off of a super long bike ride before. Not surprisingly, they felt extremely tight and heavy, but I just focused on keeping the effort easy. The course started with a couple pretty nasty hills, but once we got past those, the rest was manageable. Still hilly, but manageable.

While my legs started to loosen up over the first few miles, I noticed that my stomach was doing some serious flip turns. Having consumed over 150% of my daily fiber earlier in the day, this came as no surprise, but it was also something I wasn’t used to dealing with on a run. Usually, if my stomach ever feels like that, I just stop running and live to fight another day.

I couldn’t exactly stop running here, though, so I instead slowed my pace a bit and tried to breathe deeply. While this helped, I would ultimately end up stopping for porta-potty breaks maybe 3-4 times over the course of the run. That would be the worst of my issues that I would face, though, so no complaints there.

Throughout the run, I was generally able to maintain a 9:15-9:25 pace pretty easily while running, which of course averaged out to a slower pace when you fold in my water and bathroom stops. A little slower than anticipated, but the effort felt surprisingly great, and I was so happy that I was able to truly enjoy the entire run leg.

After making the first loop around Lost Lake, we made our way north towards Green Lake. It was here that I got to see Matt, Travers, and Rachel, and I laughed when Rachel ran by me and said, “you’re on the best sport!” (I once yelled this while cheering at a tri; the athletes, many of whom were struggling on the run, did not seem to appreciate it).

It was here that I was actually able to take in the beauty of my surroundings (I’m always staring straight at the ground on the bike), and I felt myself break into a $h!t-eating grin as I relished in the fact that I was finally on the run. Finally on MY sport. A sport that didn’t make me want to poop my pants just thinking about it. It wasn’t until this point that I knew I would actually become an Ironman that day, and I started to get really excited. I saw Katie and Mark as I made my way back towards the village to start my second loop, and they both looked strong and happy. Awesome. We were all doing this!

I wasn't lying about the $h!t-eating grin

Around mile 13, I noticed that my Garmin kept beeping “low battery,” which I thought was odd, as the 920 is supposed to have a 17-hour battery life. I would later learn that this likely happened because my Bluetooth setting was on, so my watch was constantly searching for a signal all day, which ended up draining it much more quickly. It managed to stay with me until after mile 19, though, which was helpful so that I could monitor my pace and make sure I wasn’t doing anything stupid.

After mile 20 is when I was planning on just giving the race what I had left anyway, so I wasn’t too upset when the screen finally went blank around mile 19.5. I’m usually not a fan of running “blind,” but in this case, it allowed me to focus more of my energy on the amazeball crowds that were lining our running path. While I always appreciate crowd support in any race, this was the first time that spectator cheering actually had an effect on my mental state and pace. I got a serious boost of energy anytime someone yelled my name, and I made sure to smile and thank everyone for coming out.

At this point, I noticed that I was one of the few people in my cohort of racers who was still running the entire time. I saw many athletes struggling out there, though many of them still offered generous words of encouragement as I ran by – lots of “looking good!,” “nice pace!” and my favorite: “you have way too much energy for the end of an Ironman!” I was grateful that my conservative pacing strategy had paid off once again, and I was also grateful that this epic journey would conclude with my strongest sport.

I’ll also never forget a lady I passed around mile 23 who was cheering so joyfully and heartily. I gave her a big smile as I ran by, and she looked at me and just kept repeating “Wow. Wow. Wow.” She made me feel like what I was doing was awe-inspiring, and I thought, “you know what? This IS f-ing awesome.” Once upon a time, I thought I could never finish a marathon, and here I was, throwing down an 8:30 pace in the final 5K of a marathon AT THE END OF AN IRONMAN, all with a smile on my face. I never want to forget that feeling.

The last part of the course wound its way through the Olympic village itself, and it was lined with crazy spectators yelling their heads off. Just after the final turn, I saw Brandon and Rachel’s family, and I ran over to give them high fives before sprinting my way to the finish. I threw my arms up as I ran through the finisher’s arch, and finally, after so many months of hard training and struggles, I heard Mike Reilly* say my name. I had become an Ironman.

*[edited to add: 3 weeks later, and I've learned that Mike Reilly was actually at Ironman Lake Placid that day, and he did not, in fact, say my name. Sad face frown. But I'm still an Ironman, g'damnit!]

A cool running shot captured by Brandon (I'm in there, I swear) 

Run time: 4:15:04

(9:44 pace)

Overall time: 13:33:13

We are Ironmen!!!

Part of me can’t believe that we actually did this thing and that it’s actually over. After reading the online forums, I also can’t believe that we weren’t more affected by the conditions out there (and that I didn’t really comprehend what was happening at the time).

I mentioned in my last post that I didn’t have a time goal aside from finishing within the 17-hour cutoff, which is true. However, in the back of my mind, I did think that I was capable of finishing within 14 hours if I played it safe and smart and if nothing went drastically wrong. Finishing in 13:33 felt amazing, and doing so in the conditions we faced was just icing on the cake.

I’m so grateful to our entire cheering squad for braving the storm and coming out to watch us swim, bike, and run for an ungodly amount of time. Brandon, Becky, Kristen, Mrs. Marullo, Mr. Marullo, Alison, and Paul – you are all saints.

I also have to thank the rest of my friends and family for putting up with me over the last seven months. While the Ironman is a very individual sport, Ironman training is anything but. Training required a ridiculous amount of support and patience from those around me, and I’m frankly not sure how everyone was able to deal with me. All of my whining about training and constantly declining invites to do fun things in the name of a long bike ride or run must have been frustrating at best. So thank you for not giving up and abandoning our relationships :-).

And now – I’m back! I’m ready to do all of the fun things! I’m ready to talk about anything other than triathlon training! And this transition back to real life is off to a very strong start as I enjoy our two-week road trip vacation down to the Bay. Cheers!

Hiking in Vancouver yesterday

Double-fisting post-hike

Sunsets in Bellingham, WA are not too shabby

Whatcom Falls Park hiking

Dinner at the pier in Bellingham