This weekend, my husband and I finished Ironman St. George, the last year it will be run, and perhaps for good reason. The course has always been the most difficult (from what I hear--I haven't done them all) of all the Ironman courses, but this year it had bad weather added to the rest, making for a record 29% DNF (Did Not Finish) Rate. The course had a reputation for being difficult from the first year in 2010, when the water was so cold (about 50) it was very unpleasant, and the bike and run were so hilly that first timers complained there was no way for a novice to finish in the cut off times if the least thing went wrong, like needing to change a flat tire. The run was straight uphill for 6 miles, then straight downhill, then repeat.
I will say for the course that it was the most beautiful race I think I have ever done. Breathtaking scenery on the bike and run, clear water in the swim. The best part of the bike for me has always been the Veyo Wall, which is up this sheer cliff of a mountain that allows you to look down on the bikers and the valley below. It's not so steep you can't take a moment to enjoy, and once you're at the top, you've almost finished climbing for that loop. You feel like you're riding in the Tour de France, and I always get a huge rush when I'm at the top, like I have conquered something important.
This year, I signed up on Tuesday before the Saturday race because I had done both other years and had planned to do next year, and found out the race was being cancelled. I didn't want to miss out on my last chance to do the race ever, but I didn't train as well for it as I probably should have. My husband and I went out to swim at the reservoir on Thursday and both got a little seasick from the chop. But on Saturday morning, the water seemed absolutely calm. It seemed like a day for hitting a personal record.
Well, that lasted for approximately 2 minutes. Then the wind whipped up waves and it just got worse and worse. There was so much spray and so much wind that I had difficulty figuring out where I was going. The buoys were blown all over the place and we had to just sight the island we were swimming around. I tried breast stroke to see where I was going, but I had several moments where I was afraid of drowning. And I am first and foremost a swimmer. My husband and I met in high school on the swim. I could only imagine how novice swimmers felt. I heard at one point that 400 people had been taken out of the water, but it seems now that was exaggerated. I did hear firsthand from someone that the kayaks for the lifeguards were getting turned over and that the rescue boats began to take on water and sink.
I tried to tell myself just to get through this, not to use up too much energy, but keep swimming forward. Finally, I finished, about 30 minutes off my expected time, a lot of time to lose in the water. I kept telling myself just to keep moving forward, that things would get better. But on the bike, that same wind was still blowing hard, making it feel like I was moving through jello. There were many times when I wondered if I could keep going, when I asked myself why I had signed up for this, when I wondered if anything was worth the exhaustion and the sense of hopelessness. I tried to keep drinking and taking in fluids, and the second loop (about 4 hours later when the wind abated), I felt better. By the time I started the run, I felt surprisingly good. I had modest expectations, hoping to run 10-11 min miles. I reminded myself that between miles 10-18 I always have the most trouble, so just keep going, and be ready to face the hard miles.
I was hitting 11 minute miles until mile 13 and it was like I suddenly could not move. I continued to walk but multiple people asked me if I was OK. I was grimacing, and felt like I was going to start throwing up at every step. I had enough time to finish even at a very slow walking pace before the cutoff at midnight, but I felt so sick I didn't know if I could do it. I thought of the Julie Moss moment when she ended up crawling to the finish line. I was pretty sure I wouldn't crawl, if I was down, I would be out. But I kept moving. Lots of other walkers passed me because I wasn't walking very fast. I felt stupid when I couldn't even run on the downhills. I gave up trying to make myself take in calories and just drank what I felt like drinking. I am still astonished at the variety of food offered at Ironman, from potato chips and pretzels to fruit and gu's and licorice and a bunch of drinks. I wonder if this is just stupid, asking for people to have problems, but my husband is always grateful for the chips, so people are different.
Miraculously, at mile 18, I suddenly felt great again and ran from then until the end with only a few walking breaks. I was on a huge high then, and was so glad I had come to do the race one last time. I got teary eyed with happiness, wanted to hug strangers, felt like it was the best day of my life.
I have been thinking about this experience and how strange it is that during the same race I had so many ups and downs. You think that when you are doing something like this, you will have only a downward trend, that if you are starting to feel sick or exhausted, it will only get worse if you keep going. But it isn't true. And it isn't always something that you control. Obviously, taking in the proper amount of fluids and other calories can help you start to feel better if you've gotten dehydrated or bonked. And walking for a bit can help you feel in control again. Getting out of the choppy water helps and the wind abating was nice. But I don't think that completely explains the wave function I felt. I think sometimes you just feel bad, and then it passes. It can get good again.
I remember a friend of mine from years ago did a study on marriages that were failing and he said the most interesting result he found was that it made no difference to the happiness of the couple five years down the road if they divorced or not. For whatever reason, they were struggling, and if they stayed together, things got better. If they separated, things got better. The people who divorced believed they were happier because they divorced and the people who stayed together got happier and believed it was because they worked on their marriage. But from an outside point of view, he didn't believe either explanation. He said that the advice he gave people was just to wait and see, that things almost always got better on their own, without any intervention. It sounds wacky, but I think it is often true.
Of course, I am not saying that people who decide that they can't keep going are wrong. That is an individual decision and I wouldn't try to second guess anyone. But for me, I think it was good to remind myself when I felt awful that it would probably pass and that I would feel good again.
I will say for the course that it was the most beautiful race I think I have ever done. Breathtaking scenery on the bike and run, clear water in the swim. The best part of the bike for me has always been the Veyo Wall, which is up this sheer cliff of a mountain that allows you to look down on the bikers and the valley below. It's not so steep you can't take a moment to enjoy, and once you're at the top, you've almost finished climbing for that loop. You feel like you're riding in the Tour de France, and I always get a huge rush when I'm at the top, like I have conquered something important.
This year, I signed up on Tuesday before the Saturday race because I had done both other years and had planned to do next year, and found out the race was being cancelled. I didn't want to miss out on my last chance to do the race ever, but I didn't train as well for it as I probably should have. My husband and I went out to swim at the reservoir on Thursday and both got a little seasick from the chop. But on Saturday morning, the water seemed absolutely calm. It seemed like a day for hitting a personal record.
Well, that lasted for approximately 2 minutes. Then the wind whipped up waves and it just got worse and worse. There was so much spray and so much wind that I had difficulty figuring out where I was going. The buoys were blown all over the place and we had to just sight the island we were swimming around. I tried breast stroke to see where I was going, but I had several moments where I was afraid of drowning. And I am first and foremost a swimmer. My husband and I met in high school on the swim. I could only imagine how novice swimmers felt. I heard at one point that 400 people had been taken out of the water, but it seems now that was exaggerated. I did hear firsthand from someone that the kayaks for the lifeguards were getting turned over and that the rescue boats began to take on water and sink.
I tried to tell myself just to get through this, not to use up too much energy, but keep swimming forward. Finally, I finished, about 30 minutes off my expected time, a lot of time to lose in the water. I kept telling myself just to keep moving forward, that things would get better. But on the bike, that same wind was still blowing hard, making it feel like I was moving through jello. There were many times when I wondered if I could keep going, when I asked myself why I had signed up for this, when I wondered if anything was worth the exhaustion and the sense of hopelessness. I tried to keep drinking and taking in fluids, and the second loop (about 4 hours later when the wind abated), I felt better. By the time I started the run, I felt surprisingly good. I had modest expectations, hoping to run 10-11 min miles. I reminded myself that between miles 10-18 I always have the most trouble, so just keep going, and be ready to face the hard miles.
I was hitting 11 minute miles until mile 13 and it was like I suddenly could not move. I continued to walk but multiple people asked me if I was OK. I was grimacing, and felt like I was going to start throwing up at every step. I had enough time to finish even at a very slow walking pace before the cutoff at midnight, but I felt so sick I didn't know if I could do it. I thought of the Julie Moss moment when she ended up crawling to the finish line. I was pretty sure I wouldn't crawl, if I was down, I would be out. But I kept moving. Lots of other walkers passed me because I wasn't walking very fast. I felt stupid when I couldn't even run on the downhills. I gave up trying to make myself take in calories and just drank what I felt like drinking. I am still astonished at the variety of food offered at Ironman, from potato chips and pretzels to fruit and gu's and licorice and a bunch of drinks. I wonder if this is just stupid, asking for people to have problems, but my husband is always grateful for the chips, so people are different.
Miraculously, at mile 18, I suddenly felt great again and ran from then until the end with only a few walking breaks. I was on a huge high then, and was so glad I had come to do the race one last time. I got teary eyed with happiness, wanted to hug strangers, felt like it was the best day of my life.
I have been thinking about this experience and how strange it is that during the same race I had so many ups and downs. You think that when you are doing something like this, you will have only a downward trend, that if you are starting to feel sick or exhausted, it will only get worse if you keep going. But it isn't true. And it isn't always something that you control. Obviously, taking in the proper amount of fluids and other calories can help you start to feel better if you've gotten dehydrated or bonked. And walking for a bit can help you feel in control again. Getting out of the choppy water helps and the wind abating was nice. But I don't think that completely explains the wave function I felt. I think sometimes you just feel bad, and then it passes. It can get good again.
I remember a friend of mine from years ago did a study on marriages that were failing and he said the most interesting result he found was that it made no difference to the happiness of the couple five years down the road if they divorced or not. For whatever reason, they were struggling, and if they stayed together, things got better. If they separated, things got better. The people who divorced believed they were happier because they divorced and the people who stayed together got happier and believed it was because they worked on their marriage. But from an outside point of view, he didn't believe either explanation. He said that the advice he gave people was just to wait and see, that things almost always got better on their own, without any intervention. It sounds wacky, but I think it is often true.
Of course, I am not saying that people who decide that they can't keep going are wrong. That is an individual decision and I wouldn't try to second guess anyone. But for me, I think it was good to remind myself when I felt awful that it would probably pass and that I would feel good again.
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