Kait's 2010 Race report

Ironman Race Report 2010
I woke up on race morning to the chirp of my alarm, having miraculously slept for five hours. Bleary-eyed, I headed for the kitchen and started downing the oatmeal, bananas and water. I was fortunate enough to spend the previous six days in Penticton, and had started to worry that I hadn’t been feeling particularly anxious about the race. In fact, I think I might have been in a (healthy?) state of denial. Not so on race morning; I woke up feeling happy and excited to finally take on the day. After a last check of my morning to do list, I put on a third layer (including toque and mitts – thanks Aud) and packed myself and several bags into our car. Mikkel dropped me off near Main in the dark and I headed towards body marking and transition.
Pre-race prep went relatively smoothly. Though, I managed to flat my tube trying to get the cap off my extended valves (core came loose). I hope everyone said a big thank you to the bike techs volunteering first thing in the morning. They were so helpful and happy to be there. After a quick fix I was back on my way to setting up. Aside from a nervous stomach, I felt ready to race.
I was lucky to run into friends (Bula, Dalts, Gregg, Karine) getting prepped for the swim and we chatted to kill the time. After finally zipping up the wetsuit I headed for the water, and was happy to find it warm compared to the chilly air. I had planned to seed myself in the thick of things, and was surprised to find that I had plenty of empty water around me on all sides (I was about five rows back lined dead straight up the buoy line??). Everyone else had wandered to the very far left and we could see them packed in like penguins in a documentary. I worried for a minute that maybe I was missing something, but decided to stick with my plan. After the anthem (belted out with a new friend), we made a final check of our goggles, hugged, and got ready. Standing in the water, I felt honored to be part of such an amazing event. Remembering how I had felt the year before watching the swim start, I also imagined how excited (and nervous) my family and friends were likely feeling watching the mass of swimmers begin the race.
I remember worrying that I might feel anxious or even the usual “I hate triathlons and would really prefer to quit right now” grouchiness that I encounter during the first few minutes of a swim. Coach Sean had promised I would feel perfectly calm immediately following the canon fire, and I’ll be damned if he wasn’t right. I consider myself to be a pretty “calm” open water swimmer compared to some of the swim panic I hear friends describe. But, the sense of calm that I felt heading out that morning was unreal. Too bad it only lasted for a few minutes! The initial draft was fabulous – the first group pulled me out and it felt more like surfing than swimming. Unfortunately, the group on the left then started merging with us buoy line folks and things began to get sloppy. I got the usual kicks, punches, and jabs. However, I also got a full on neck grab/drowning pull and really panicked when the guy didn’t let go – enough to make me fully right myself and screech (naturally, no one took notice of the girl screaming in the water). I also found myself stuck in a tight V between big flailing male swimmers a couple of times and ended up using my arms to block elbows vs. stroke. In spite of the “violence,” it was a pretty smooth swim. At the mid point I was pretty sure my watch was wrong because I was at about 34 mins following the second turn. I was aiming for a 1:20 swim, 1:15 tops and was on track for 1:10! All in all, I think the downside to my swim involved me using *way* too much kick. I noticed at the 2/3 mark that my hip flexors were a little sore and hoped it was just some light cramping (this would turn out to be more than some minor cramping…). Out of the water, I was ecstatic when I ran over the mat sub 1:10. Swim: 1:09:42.
The day before the race, I had run through the transition area with another super friendly volunteer (and past competitor). In past races, I have also spent a lot of time using visualization to speed along my transitions. I wish I had done more of that for IMC! My transition to the bike was 6:42. I’m amazed I didn’t unwrap a sandwich or something with that much time! Mental note for next year – don’t let the “helpful” volunteers pull you into a seat in the change tent! Just dump your bag and do your thing.
Off and away onto the bike and I’ll admit all I could think was “I’m doing it! I’m really doing it!!” The crowds out of town were amazing. My family and friends (aka, Kaitlyn’s own personal cheering section) got me so excited I nearly took out a pylon early into the race. Heading out Main I felt great and did well until just shortly after the first climb at McLean Creek. My nagging leg (groin? Hip flexor?) began to feel more like a dull ache and progressed into a burning pain at approximately the 45 minute mark. Turning the wheel over in the aero position (even on the flats) was really hurting and I started to worry (soon followed by panic) that I may not even be able to finish the ride let alone the race. So, what should have been the “pleasant” section of the IMC course was a pretty tough grind for me and I’ll admit to feeling a little hopeless. This was interesting, because I hadn’t anticipated feeling that way until the run (my bike has been a strength for me this year). On top of the leg issue, my stomach was cramped for the first two hours. I eventually figured out that my infinite bike formula, though amazing for training days, was not at all amazing for a race. I guess the old cliff shots and water strategy will be the one I stick with from here on out.
Anyhow – I was feeling pretty demoralized coming up to Richter’s. I decided to take a bathroom break in the hopes of resting my leg for a second and improving my cramped stomach. I was in line for five minutes!!! Terrible timing. Anyhow, I got back on the bike and started the climb wishing for a moment that I was somewhere else. Then, thankfully, I started to feel really great. My legs loosened up and I spun smoothly until the top (great crowds!). From there on out, the pain disappeared and my stomach eased up once I ditched the bottled nutrition. Of course, then I had to stop and shop my special needs bag because I didn’t have enough calories on board which cost me some time. And, even though I rarely ever stopped the bike on training rides and teased training partners mercilessly about their small bladders, I had to make another pit stop on the out and back. All in all, I spent about 10 minutes off the bike during the bike – time to make up next year I guess.
Just when I was starting to feel great on the bike, the heavens opened and it hailed so badly I thought my arms were going to be cut open! The headwind leading up to the out and back section had been a challenge, but the 130k – Yellow Lake section was flat out ridiculous. In fact, the weather was so bad (one pro was later quoted as having raced through a monsoon) that I had no choice but to laugh – it was that ridiculous. I found that spinning out the wind was really effective, and I made up some ground compared to the big guys trying to grind it out. Finally, the climb up to Yellow Lake was upon us. On our training ride, I remembered thinking “this isn’t nearly as bad as everyone makes it out to be.” Unfortunately for me, on race day it really did feel that bad. It was a very slow climb, but the crowds were absolutely stellar all the way up and it was impossible to stay grouchy with so many happy and supportive people (also freezing to death) on the roadside. FINALLY the descent!! It was a very chilly ride back into down, but frankly I was so relieved to have survived given the early challenges. I had hoped for a bike time for closer to 6 hours before the race, and had been willing to settle for just finishing, so my time of 6:25:54 was good enough for me.
Into T2, I ran into the same wasted time problem in the tent (6:15). Who’s idea was it to have “options” in my transition bag anyhow? (mine, obviously). I opted not to change and have no idea what on earth I was doing for that entire time, but I am going to blame it on being numb everywhere following the Kamikaze ride back into town. Finally, I was forced to confront a thought that I had been banishing from my mind throughout the day: How on earth am I going to run a marathon now?
The race course setup is a bit strange, but the crowds for the first few KM really get you pumped for the run course. I saw family and friends who re-energized me. I was also pretty excited to have a different liquid calorie source and it was tasting delicious (this would also turn out to be a problem though). I found my single-gear post ride race trot-like pace and off I ran out of town. I had a few difficulties during the run. First, I was ingesting too many calories – I started experiencing the same stomach cramping as I had on the bike. Unfortunately, it took me until the three-hour mark to have the good sense to ditch my bottle and switch to water and gels only. Your brain really does go to mush at Ironman! I felt really good until around the 19k mark, and then started to wonder when the day would be over. When I hit the special needs and turn around, I was SO happy to have packed some licorice and snack mix – anything but the damned poisonous liquid nutrition! Of course, with my brain still in a non-functional gear, I downed 350 calories of licorice in a 45-minute period and surprise, surprise, my stomach cramped again. Two pit stops on the second half helped me feel better, and didn’t add too much time to my marathon. Once I realized my mistake, I threw away all my nutrition and started going from aid station to aid station just using water and a tiny bit of soup and Gatorade. Finally, I started to feel a little better. Running is my weakest discipline, and definitely my least favorite of the day. My race pictures certainly reflect this (very grouchy looking). Throughout the day in spite of the ups and downs I had really enjoyed interacting with the crowds, spotting friends, and cheering on other competitors. During the run, I’m apologizing to all those who said hi or had to call my name five times to get my attention. My “survival zone” lasted from about 22k – 38k and included me counting to approximately 19,000. Yes, call me crazy, but counting my steps really helps me to zone out and keep a high cadence when all I want to do is sit down. I saw a lot of walkers on the course, and even though I felt like it at a few points, I was happy to be able to “run” the entire course. I jogged the aid stations and only stopped on two occasions to walk to and from the bathrooms (boy did it hurt to start running again!!). A big thank you to Coach Tara Lee who gave me the advice – just keep running and maintain a consistent cadence. It really did help, even though it meant I couldn’t stop and visit with too many people on the course. After what felt like running up and down hills forever, we finally made the turn back into town. After a fabulous cheering on from the coaches at around the 4k mark, I felt re-energized. I had realized at the turn around that I was on track for a sub-13 hour day and when we hit the CherryLane Mall, I was thrilled. The run down to the lake was blessedly speedy, and soon we had only the out and back left to conquer. I can’ t tell you how long those last two km feel once you’ve been 50 metres from the finish line. Even though everyone is cheering you on like crazy, I was so tired I actually didn’t want to run any harder (another thing that I found surprising). Who would have expected apathy during the most exciting part of the day? Instead of “oh my god I’m about to be an ironman” all I could think was “how many more of these frigging orange cones can there possibly be?”
Arriving down the finish chute, all the negative thoughts and challenging moments of the day were washed away. It was daylight, it was 12-something on the clock, and I didn’t have a glow stick. My wildest dreams were about to come true. Four years ago, I wouldn’t exactly have called myself a couch potato, but I didn’t believe I could run around the block, let alone 5k. When I crossed the finish line, I couldn’t have been more proud. I let the catchers help me into the arms of my beaming husband and family, and celebrated an amazing year. I couldn’t have completed this amazing journey without the patience and constant support of my wonderful husband. I also owe a lot to my amazing coaches who helped plan a schedule and program that really worked for me. To all my friends and family, thank you SO much for being there in person and in other ways to share in this special day.