Confessions of a first time Ironman (pt.3)

When you have the biggest race of your short racing career in less than 24 hours, the last thing you want is an injury.  For the past few of days, I was already more than a little stressed out, massaging and stretching the crap out of a mysterious strained calf that just wouldn’t go away.  Now this happens…

Not good.

Yep.  I managed to F-up my foot on our Saturday morning practice swim.  The swim entry had aluminum steps that led down to rough rocks submerged in the water.  As I pushed off, the top of my right foot caught the rocks and peeled off several layers of skin.  I didn’t think too much about it at the time because the shock of the cold water was overwhelming all my senses.  I felt myself actually resisting exhaling with my face in the water because of the cold.  This involuntary reflex went away after a couple minutes, but I thought it was kinda neat.

Open water swims are challenging because there are no lines in the bottom of the lake that you can follow to swim straight.  That’s why practice swims on the actual course are useful because you have a chance to figure out what you should be sighting on race day.  You basically pick out a large landmark in the distance and swim towards it, looking up every few strokes to make sure you’re still on course.  It’s a real pain in the ass, but necessary if you don’t want to end up swimming more than you have to.

After a short 15 minute swim, I came out and assessed the damage to my foot.  The abrasions were not super deep, but I wanted to get some antiseptic and a bandage on it asap.  The last thing I wanted was for my foot to get infected and swell up overnight.  At least it was the top, and not the bottom, right?  The foot was going to be a nuisance and probably painful, but I was still more concerned with my strained calf at that point.

After the practice swim, we racked our bikes and dropped off our transition bags.  At most other triathlons, we bring our bike and run gear with us on race morning and lay it all out next to our racked bikes because everybody will wear the same base layers for all three legs.  With the long distances in the Ironman, many athletes will opt to change into full cycling kits for the bike, and a different outfit for the marathon for comfort’s sake.  Separate men’s and women’s tents are set up so people can strip down while changing.  The sweetest part about this setup is that volunteers will actually bring your bike and run gear to you in the changing tents.  That’s why we needed to prepack our stuff into separate bike and run bags.

Over $5 million worth of bikes here!

Bike bag:  Helmet, sunglasses, cycling cleats, socks (pre-rolled so all I would have to do is roll them back up instead of struggling to slip on socks the regular way over wet feet), towel to wipe off my feet, a packet of Hello Panda chocolate crackers (320 tasty calories!), and sunscreen.  I also threw in a cycling jersey and cycling shorts in case I wanted to change out of the triathlon outfit I swam in.

Run bag:  Running shoes, pre-rolled socks, running cap, an extra pair of socks in a ziplock in case it rains, and athletic tape, duct tape, and scissors for blister prevention.  Again, I included fresh synthetic underwear and a pair of running shorts in case I wanted to change.

Transition Bags.  Bike Blue.  Run Red.

For lunch, Louis and I went to a sports bar in downtown Tempe.  I took the idea of “carbo-loading” to heart and scarfed down a giant plate of garlic fries with cheese wiz and bacon... then topped that off with half a pizza.  I love racing!

For our second lunch (Yes, second lunch!), we met up with Sam and Jenn, who had driven all the way out from LA just to volunteer at the race and cheer us on.  It really meant a lot to us that they were able to make this trip!  After only one season of triathlon, Jenn has decided to race the Vineman 70.3 next July (Half-Iron… full IM is 140.6 miles), while Sam just signed up for the full IM distance Vineman after much peer pressure and badgering.  I love it!  You better believe I’ll be there to watch them suffer!  We went to a rather forgettable Vietnamese restaurant called “UnPHOgettable”.  Meh.  Let's just say no one is ever going to confuse Tempe with the SGV or Little Saigon.

We returned to Deb’s house for our last half day of relaxation before race day.  Dress up my wounds.  Keep stretching that stupid calf.  Check the weather one last time.  Hmm…

Good thing Louis picked up some trash bags emergency rain ponchos today.  We laid out our morning clothes, and packed our wetsuit, bodyglide, goggles, and swim cap.  We mixed our sports drinks.  I made six 750ml bottles, one for each hour I was planning to be on the bike.  We also prepared our Special Needs bags for the bike and run courses.  These are bags that you will be able to access at mile 64 of the bike course and mile 13 of the run.  In addition to the 3 bottles of sports drink (I will start with 3 bottles on my bike), I decided to include my favorite Marmot Windshirt to my bike special needs in case the weather turned bad, and a fleece and an Advil to my run special needs.  Oh, and of course a rain poncho in each bag!

Ghetto poncho.

So much white powder that night, Deb's house might as well have been a meth lab.

9:00pm.  Off to bed we go.  The alarm is set to 4:00am the next day.

If there’s ever a time for routine, it’s race day.  The mantra that's repeated over and over is “Nothing new on race day!”  Here is the one I had practiced many Saturdays in the months leading up to the race. 

Wake up.

Start the steamer with the rice dumpling. (450 tasty, carby calories!  Yes.  I actually brought my own rice dumplings to Arizona.)

Put on my tri shorts and tri top.

Strap on my timing chip.

Put on my GPS watch.

Put on regular clothes.

Go number two. (Those of you who read my Mt. Shasta trip report know what happens when I skip number two on the morning of a big day.)

Eat rice dumpling. (After washing hands of course)

Pack up our swim gear and sports bottles.

It’s now 4:50.  We make the 15 minute drive in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts.  After dropping off our special needs bags, we head back to Transition.  All 2400 athletes are going through their own race day routines.  Some go for a light jog.  Others stretch or get body marked if they haven't already done so.  Still others check their bike one last time.  I opt to sit down by my bike and zone out.

It's Go Time.

Around 6:30, I remove my street clothes and squeeze into my wetsuit.  Still feel like a sausage in that thing.

Volunteer kayakers head out first.

At 6:40, we jump in the water and start swimming towards the start line.  You know how when dogs get really freaked out, they poop and pee as their bodies prepare them for Fight or Flight?  I must have had some nervous energy left because I finally was able to do something I've never been able to do.

I peed in my wetsuit.