Some Things IMSG and IM In General Has Taught Me

Every Ironman teaches me a few lessons, and St. George was no exception. I thought I'd share some of the stuff I learned while out on that hot and brutal course. In no particular order, here are some things I learned:

1) Don't write your goals in stone. Lets face it, Ironman is a long day and there are so many uncontrollable variables on race day, such as weather, the course and other small things that can go wrong. By adapting to your day, you won't set yourself up for disappointment and will stay on top of what you are able to control. (such as good hydration and nutrition to get you to that finish line, which in the end, is the ultimate goal anyway!) At IMSG I had a subpar swim, which I dwelled on for about a minute after getting out of the water, but then quickly realized I needed to drop the negativity as I still had a long day ahead and 5min lost here could easily be made up on the bike etc. Then I had the bee sting incident on the bike- very scary to say the least. I monitored myself very carefully and ultimately had to make a choice- either drop out and get help or go on and hope the sting would not affect me. Luckily, I took a chance that proved to be the right one and was able to keep racing, although I made sure people knew what had happened.

2) Be flexible and listen to your body. I constantly re-evaluate my day as I am racing, maybe others do as well. I also monitor how I feel the entire race. I rely on my body to tell me what it needs and when I need to back off and when I need to push. I don't race with a heart rate monitor or GPS and lately even my watch has had some hiccups, so being in tune with the signals my brain and body are sending me, is vital for a successful day. Technology is great, but when it comes down to it, your body will tell you exactly how it feels, you just need to listen. If things start to go south, try to think of what you can do to bring yourself back up. I started getting a little nauseous on the bike around mi 50 and realized I hadn't taken in enough salt or calories, so then I spent the next half hour focusing on that and voila, soon enough I came out of the hole and was back in the game.

3) Salt and Hydration- In a hot, hot race like St. George, it's almost impossible to have too much salt in your system. With temps in the mid 90s by the run and a dry heat to go with it, things can get tricky since you might not be sweating as much as you would in a more humid climate, but be assured- you are sweating and losing electrolytes, quite possibly even as early as on the swim. For St. George I started hydrating with salt the day before the race and kept that up right until before I hit the water on race morning. Evidently that wasn't enough, since I started experiencing foot and calf cramps on the swim! My mission on the bike became to hydrate and take in enough sodium to minimize the effects of dehydration/ depletion on the run, which I knew would be during the hottest part of the day. On the run itself I really didn't take any salt, mostly because my stomach couldn't handle much at this point, but I had also taken two vials (mixed into water bottles) of "The Right Stuff", a super concentrated sodium solution (1600mg per vial) on the bike, so I did have some reserves. I made sure to take water and whatever else my body told me it wanted, at every aid station. It went something like this: water, coke, water or water, ice, sponges. I stayed away from sports drinks as my stomach was not in the mood for them at all.

4) Dealing with extreme temperatures- I, like most people ( I am guessing) was not acclimated to the mid summer temps that race day presented. Having spent most of the spring inside on the trainer due to wet (but much needed rain) and cold weather in the 40s and 50s here in CO, I initially panicked when I saw the forecast. But that wouldn't do me any good, so I made a list of things I could do to help me have as best of a race as I could, even if I wasn't ready for these hot temps. Hydration and salt came first. I also opted for a road helmet instead of a TT helmet as I knew it would keep my head more ventilated and give me easier access to pour water in if needed. I also tried out cooling sleeves for the first time ever and like I mentioned in my race report, I think they made a huge difference in keeping my temperature somewhat controlled. The way they work is that you pour water on them, and as it evaporates (which happens rather fast in dry climates) it actually gives a cooling effect, which feels really good on your arms. (which have some major arteries that help control body temp) I also made sure to pour water in my helmet on the bike as well as on my head on the run (after pouring most of it IN me first) Lastly, I like to always think of past races and I how I dealt with adversity then. I think it helps to boost confidence, knowing that you overcame adversity before.
  
5) Stay emotionally Even- This is something my college track coach taught me 10 years ago. Stay even emotionally. Don't get too down if things don't go as planned, and don't get too excited if you're doing really well. As we all know, Ironman is a long race and things can look really good one minute, and be way off the next. I try to remember this in every race, as I think it is really important and will ultimately help conserve energy and make you keep an even pace throughout. In the marathon at St. George, I was having a tough time in some spots and felt good in others; however, drawing on experience from past IM marathons I knew each rough patch and good spot would only be temporary, so I tried to just focus on each mile I passed, not dwelling on how bad I  felt. Each foot step would be one closer to the finish. It wasn't until I turned the corner down the home stretch that I really let loose of my emotions and knew I would finish even if I had to crawl it in :)

6) Never, Ever Give Up :) - I know this sounds cliche, but it's so true for an Ironman.  Like I mentioned earlier, this race takes all day and so many things beyond our control can pop up. It is how you deal with them and move on, that will determine your race finish. There is never a perfect day, but if you just keep focused on that little light at the end of the tunnel, you will get there. I could have easily given up and quit, at least when I got stung in my mouth on the bike. But I didn't give up and pushed on, and in the end it got me on the podium :) You never know what the day will hold, so don't give up until you cross that line!


7) Post IM Recovery- Well, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't rough, haha. Here's what I've learned from my 5 IMs. The hotter the race, the longer you will need to recover. For me, Kona and St. George took the most out of me emotionally and physically. I spent the week post race in a painful state of soreness, nausea, loss of appetite and even a bit of post race depression. All completely normal. The trauma inflicted on the body when doing an IM is immense. While our muscles need about a week to not feel sore anymore, on a cellular level, there is a lot more damage that we can't see or feel.

My personal guidelines for post IM recovery are to do nothing for a few days, then think about what sounds fun to do and do it only if I really want to. When I start to crave working out again, I know I am recovering and it's OK to start some light training again. I usually get back in the pool soon, just because it helps me get a bit loose and lets me shake out without any impact. I'll ride the trainer and catch up on TV, and I start regular running the second week back, (which might be a little soon for some folks, but coming from a running background, it's my passion and my body is used to running alot) although I keep my mileage a little lower. With an early season IM, followed by more races and possible IMs later in the year, you just want to make sure you are recovered and feeling fresh before diving back into training. And remember, your brain needs to forget the pain of doing an IM first before you can think of doing another one. Funnily enough, this usually only takes a few days :)

Ironman St. George Race (of Attrition) Report

Where do I begin? I'm still trying to find the exact words to describe this race, but hopefully they'll start flowing once I start writing. I'm sitting on my couch at home for the second day since getting back from Utah and I am finally starting to feel some life back in my body, including my brain, which seemed to cease functioning for a bit post- race. A few words come to mind to describe the race at  IM St. George: brutal, relentless, unforgiving, yet absolutely breath taking. And lets not forget HOT like an oven. Here is my wrap-up of the experience.

Breath taking views all over Utah

Leaving Boulder

The drive from Boulder to St. George took about 10 hours with two stops and was just absolutely gorgeous. Highly recommend it if you're ever driving cross country this time of year. The next two days were busy busy as usual with meetings, packet pickup, getting all my stuff organized and ready and connecting with a few sponsors who were at the race. My family was scheduled to arrive to watch me race, coming in on a red eye flight from Seattle to Vegas and then driving basically to the start of the race in the morning. What troopers! I don't think they slept for three days straight.

Naturally I kept checking the forecast every few hours as rumor had it that it would be hot come race day. I tried really hard to ignore that fact and just go with the flow and hope that maybe through some magical weather front, cooler air would prevail for the race. Not so much luck. I stopped checking when I saw that the highs were in the 90s for race day and knew I'd have to be really smart in order to even survive this race. Coming from Colorado, I certainly had no heat acclimatization as the weather here has been cooler than normal with lots of cloudy, rainy and cold days in April. I also heard that last year's IMSG had been extremely cold so I figured that would suit me well if the weather was like that again. Unfortunately, it was the exact opposite.

Testing out the water race morning, a balmy 62 deg.

Race morning came and I felt surprisingly calm. The days leading up to the race had me more nervous than any other IM I have done. I'm still trying to figure that out, but lets just say I needed the help of Immodium to get me to relax a bit. My family was with me and knowing that there'd be familiar faces out on the course throughout the day, helped tremendously. I think my mom was more nervous than I for sure right before the race :)

The pro start was in water and men and women went off together. I tried to position myself in a good spot, hopefully able to catch onto some feet and have a good swim. My workouts in the pool had been going real well and although this would be my first open water swim since IMAZ last November, I wasn't worried. I felt ready to go in my TYR Hurricane Cat 5 wetsuit in its first official swim with me. The cannon sounded off and the washing machine of about 35 pros or so took off.

Immediately I was a little boxed in and tried to swim out to the side to make my own path and catch up to a group up ahead. I ended up next to a male pro who actually made this swim extremely tough for me. The buoys were to our left and he was to my left but kept drifting right so that he would push me away from the course. I stopped several times to try and sneak on his other side but whenever I attempted this, he would stop as well and get right back on my side. It was a little ridiculous and he was attached to me like a velcro strap. If you're going to draft, at least get on my feet! Needless to say the swim felt long to me, mostly due to the fact that I probably swam way off course a few times and when I finally made it back to shore (with him still attached to my side, we probably have the exact same swim split) and looked down at my watch I had just swum my slowest swim ever! I also dealt with constant calf cramps, something new. I am guessing it might have been due to my feet being really cold in that water and getting stiff.

Start of the Bike

right out of T1

Most of the women were already up the road at this point and I was not happy about the swim but knew I had to shake it off if I wanted to have a good race. I still had 138mi to make up whatever time I lost in the water, so with that in mind I set off on my brand new Blue Triad SL, which I had only ridden a handful of times prior to the race, with the longest ride being 2 hrs. The first few miles on the bike were rolling and steady uphills. Support was great right from the get-go and roads were well marked. I opted for my Rudy Project road helmet since I wanted to try and stay as cool as possible on the bike and I also decided to give arm coolers a try since I had heard good things about them. (My parents heroically picked up a pair at a Seattle tri shop before they boarded the plane, thank you!)

my beautiful Triad SL, notice how well we match!

Things felt good on the bike after I settled into a good rhythm after a few miles. My plan was to stay within myself for the first loop of the two loop bike course and see how I felt after that and decide from there. I believe that mindset saved my race. At around 30mi or so it started to heat up. Before I knew it I had completed the first loop, and you know what, it wasn't all that bad. Sure there were those two climbs that really had me grinding my pedals at 6mph, but the volunteers out on the course were just incredibly supportive in every way, cheering, making sure you got everything you needed etc. I usually hit a low point on the bike and I am usually prepared with some Red Bull to pull me back up. My low point came early and at mile 50 I wasn't feeling too hot. Well actually, I was probably feeling really hot so I went into semi survival mode for the first time and made sure I was reading what my body needed. I was steadily taking in "The Right Stuff", which probably also helped save my race. Its super concentrated sodium solution was exactly what my body needed to keep going. Mixed with ice cold water from the aid stations, it went down really well and I started to come around. In addition, I took mostly gels as they tend to agree best with my stomach.

Loop 2 on the bike actually had me feeling stronger than loop 1. I was catching up to people, and also had more company out on the course due to all the age groupers who were on their first loop. Still had no real clue what position I was in among the other pro women. After a second strong climb up Veyo, the wall, I was feeling downright giddy to have conquered the bike section to strong and although the temps were getting ridiculously hot now, I kept somewhat cool by pouring water in my helmet and on my arm coolers. I was feeling good, I was in a groove and I couldn't wait to get off my bike and start the run, my usual strong point.

Just as I was catching up to  and passing Timex's Jackie, it happened- while descending at a good speed in my aero bars, something flew in my mouth and it stung me. I immediately spit it out but it had already stung my in the roof of my mouth. OMG, freaking out. Not knowing what it was, I was extremely worried, as I have had allergic reactions to yellow jackets and wasps that require an epi pen and although I had been stung by bees since with no apparent reaction, you never know how a body in stress will react to something like this. I made the decision to stop and see if I had packed an anti histamine tablet in my bento box. I hadn't. I was on top of a highway, with other riders zooming past and I had a mouth that felt like it was swelling into my throat, and I was scared. Thoughts of dropping out crossed my mind every few seconds but I was only 12 mi from the bike finish at this point as well so I made a deal with myself: Ride it out and monitor it constantly. If things swell up and I start to have trouble, there will be someone at an aid station that will be able to help.

On my final descent into town, I saw Heather already out on the run, looking super strong. (she would have a repeat victory!) I arrived in T2 to a huge crowd of fans and spectators and I was still unsure of what state my mouth was in. My airways were clear and I knew that I probably would not have a reaction. But still I felt like I needed to take something to make sure it didn't get any worse. No one in transition could offer me anything. (It's also a very tricky thing with drug testing, if you are in need of epinephrine during an event to save your life, you will need to drop out as the amount in it exceeds what is allowed legally.) I wanted to see my family and let them know what happened just so they knew and could monitor me and let others know in case things got worse. Obviously, my day was not exactly going according to plan.

5th place biker, he was great

I decided to give the run a go. I put on my literally brand new Kswiss Kwicky Blade Lights, which I received just two days prior, and just in case anyone out there is thinking of getting a pair- they worked seamlessly (pun intended) and wore well right off the bat! I kept thinking of how my family came all the way out come see me race and I didn't want to disappoint them. I made a deal with myself to see how the first loop of the two loop run course went and go from there. I had heard I was in 5th place when I left T2 so that helped lift my spirits a bit. Then it really hit me- this run course was no joke. Right of of transition it went uphill. Then it kept going up a false flat (which after coming off the bike felt like a hill) only to turn up a steep incline to Red Hills Parkway, where the course continued to go up or down. I felt like absolute crap in those first few miles and could not get into a rhythm. It was in the 90s by now and I could feel the sun burning into my skin on my back (despite sunscreen) I had a 5th place bike with me and I pretended that he had me attached by a rope and was pulling me up (old running trick) so I shuffled on, hoping this feeling of absolute nausea and despair would pass.

Up on Red Hills Parkway, hot like an Oven

Up the climb to Red Hills Parkway I could see 4th place and she was walking. I knew then that everyone's day was tough and that it would take the smartest athlete to finish the race successfully. I long stopped trying to push the pace, my body simply didn't allow it. Survival mode all the way, get to the next aid station, dump everything you can in and on you, and then keep going. Try to say thank you to the volunteers, smile if you can. Fourth  place was within reach. I ran/shuffled the uphills and she walked. I was getting closer, could this really be happening? I didn't want to think about anything but the present- just get through this, one step at a time, one mile at a time. Finally we got to the turn around, which was on a downhill, meaning right after the turn around we'd be going back up. My lead bike was great, I got immense crowd support through him getting them excited. I can't thank you all enough!

Then came the dreaded uphill back up to the top of Red Hills Parkway. It's one thing to run a hilly open marathon, but it's another to do it in an IM, on a 90 degree day, with absolutely zero shade. This is where I broke and started walking. Mile 7 or 8. Legs couldn't turn over fast enough to try and run up it. Jackie in 4th was also walking and that made it OK. ( I have a rule of never ever walking an IM marathon since my experience in Kona, but this was different, this was the only way I would finish) I got to the top of the hill (sorry biker for making you stop on an uphill) and started my shuffle again. Fourth place had gotten ahead, she really had power walked up those hills! I didn't care, I just needed to survive. Just get through this first loop and then re-evaluate. My throat started to feel slightly swollen at this point and that had me worried.

some crazy steep swirly bike path thrown in for kicks

Back into town, the course went into a neighborhood for about 3/4mi which included another 2 evil bumps to get up and over. Then back out on the main road which now was going slightly downhill. I saw my family and briefly stopped to tell them what had happened on the bike. I was told that people up front were not doing so well and that I HAD to keep going, just had to. I shuffled on, taking in as much as I could at each aid station, which basically included a few sips of water and coke. My stomach had long shut down and I could not bare the sight of another gel. I dumped water on my arm coolers and head when I remembered and kept my visor pulled low over my face to shield my face of pain.

At 13mi I seriously contemplated calling it a day, but at this point I was running in 4th as the leader had dropped out. I could feel my throat swollen a bit but not progressing. I checked my vitals, I wasn't getting goose bumps (a really bad thing when it's this hot) and I was thinking as clear as I could have on a day like this. Besides, the incredible crowd support back in town at the half way turnaround wasn't going to let me stop. I didn't even walk this part, ha. And so I pushed on, to do it all over again one more time. To prove to myself that I could do this. The crowds and even my fellow racers were so supportive, it was so amazing. I honestly don't think I would have had the courage to finish without them out there. I knew the second loop would be busier too as the age groupers were now on the run course as well.

my 3rd place biker and me right after the out turnaround, starting back uphill

 The hills were relentless, even more so the second time around. I kept thinking to myself that this was almost comical, it was such a crazy day. One foot in front of the other, keep checking vital signs and keep taking in fluids. Such was my thought process. I lost touch with Jackie on lap 2, she was having an amazing day and raced super smart. I was now 3/4s of the way there in the marathon, every uphill was closer to that finish line. Could I really do this? I started imagining myself coming back into town, coming into the finish, but that started getting me really emotional so I had to stop and focus on the very present. In some spots I even started to feel better and tried to pick up my pace a bit. But unfortunately, my quads started to tear apart around 16mi into the run, and I needed to make sure I conserved my remaining muscle tissue to make it across that line.

Somewhere around mi 22 or so, I saw the third place bike waiting for me and it got me wondering what had happened to third? Turned out, good friend Meredith who was in second, had to drop out as she could not go on. This had me extremely worried, even in my semi delusional state, as I had just seen her a few miles earlier, still looking good. But as is the thing in IM, you feel good one minute, and like death the next, it is a constant roller coaster that needs to be monitored. Anyway, I pressed on, finding myself suddenly in third, utter disbelief really. I started reflecting on my day, everything that had happened and here I was, still shuffling and pressing on. I was going to do this after all, I was going to cross that line.

About 3mi to go with 3rd place biker, pain all over, trying to use downhill but legs were locking up

OMG, I am about to finish this thing.

Can't. Take. Another. Step.

Getting back into town, I only had about 3miles left, and they were all slightly downhill, but I felt like I was going backwards. My legs were ripped up inside, my It bands were stiff like a tight rubber band, and although my head wanted to push it, my body could not. I had the camera guys on the motor cycles in my face right in front of me, I had photographers taking my pic and I just tried to take it all in and channel their energy. I was going to be third. I was going to be third place on a day that tested the absolute limits of everyone. I couldn't quite grasp it at all, this was surreal. As I turned the final corner, the crowds at the finish were roaring and Mike Reilly was letting them know I was coming through. I wanted to take a moment to get over to the side and slap hands of the people standing and cheering but I could only will myself to keep heading in a straight line to the finish. I was in immense amounts of pain  and total elation at the same time. I did it, wow. I couldn't even turn around and take one last look back at the crowds and the course, because as soon as I took that last step, I collapsed and had to be wheeled into the med tent, where the real fun was about to start.

A few IVs, some crazy sensations that felt like electric shock going through my hands, nausea and some supplemental oxygen, I finally reconnected with my family an hour or so after I finished, at which point I was informed that I needed to get drug tested as well. (First time ever I'd like to say that was interesting.) Lets just say that waiting for your pee to come after an IM when you are severely dehydrated, is not fun. I spent over 2 hrs with the people of WADA/USADA waiting for the huge amounts of water to go through my system and was finally able to leave around 3 hrs after I finished the race. Not optimal for recovery.

Women's top 8 Pros (-1)

 I'm still kind of coming to grips with this race. While I certainly did not have a day according to plan or time goals, with a pedestrian swim and run, I also know I can't ignore the circumstances, and I am proud of finishing. Finishing third is an added bonus. Knowing what we dealt with in this race and how we overcame it all, should give every single finisher a huge sense of accomplishment. I believe this race was harder than Kona. For sure. My dream of going back to the Big Island is alive again, as I was able to earn a good amount of points, which catapulted me up on the list, at least for the present. There will be more IMs in my future this year, but for now, I probably shouldn't be thinking about that just yet :)

A huge thank you to my family and Brandon, for always believing that I can do these things and accomplish my goals, to the race volunteers- you were the glimmers of hope on a course of despair and attrition :), to my lead bikers, thanks for pulling me along (this was also a first), friends and supporters cheering for me out in the heat, and ofcourse thanks to my sponsors and supporters, without whom I'd have nothing to wear or ride or eat and drink for this sport ;) Good things are happening, I can feel it! Lastly, to anyone contemplating doing this race, do it, but be prepared! The weather and the hills are no joke, but the crowds and the volunteers are unreal, and so is the scenery. When you cross that line, it will all be so worth it!