Ironman Wisconsin - TriathlonFull Ironman

So I was off at my usual swim pace. The swim start was not as bad as my “mass start” swim practice. If you want to get ready for a mass start, I have 2 words for you…. Melissa Cararra. She was all over me in the practice…realistically though…grabbing elbows, swimming right next to me, splashing…the swim start was actually easier than the practice! I was swimming at an angle towards the course as I started out way to the side. I was already to the second buoy before I realized that I had passed a previous buoy while I was angling in.

The buoys kept multiplying! As I was looking for the red turn buoy, I kept thinking, “Isn’t it almost here yet? Nope, another yellow buoy.” Then it was here and pretty soon I was swimming down the back, orange buoy stretch. At this point I realized that I had to go pee. I figured I would try to go in the water once I was in my second lap. I think my first lap took 52 minutes…I tried to look at my watch at the turn buoy nearest to the swim start/ finish area. All along the next stretch I tried to pee in my wetsuit (to save time, you know). I would kind of hold my breath and try…doing valsalva (for you medical people)…and I think I would kind of almost stop swimming I was concentrating so hard! But to no avail…even with the multiplying buoys, I couldn’t do it! I tried once again after I turned (I think there was a bit of a current against you on the orange buoy side of the loop) and then gave up as I figured I was wasting time.

As I rounded the last buoy, I almost couldn’t believe it. I could have screamed! I was almost done with the IM swim! Some guy then swam over me, but he was nice and stopped and asked if I was okay. I swam in and looked at my watch. I couldn’t believe that the second loop took me about an hour. I still have no idea where the extra time went! (I seemed to lose about 10 minutes out there!). I finally got to the water’s edge and stood up. I felt like screaming but I was wobbling on my legs. A volunteer asked me if I was okay. The gravel was just shifting under my feet. I peeled my goggles off noting that the haziness of my vision was NOT due to my goggles. With them off, my vision was still hazy! I kept rubbing my eyes trying to see better! All of the swim finish pictures have me rubbing my eyes! I was still rubbing my eyes when I came upon the wetsuit strippers. I hadn’t gotten the arms of my wetsuit down yet as I was too focused on not being able to see really well, so one guy peeled off my arms (and my cap and goggles got stuck in the sleeve…oh well) and then I was on my back and in one second, whoosh, wetsuit was off.

Just practice on becoming an overall better swimmer.

I started running again and figured, “Oh well, hopefully my vision will clear up.” As I headed through what was previously the athlete gate, I saw Alison and my parents. I yelled that, “I didn’t drown!” I thought they may have been worried because I took longer than I thought and plus, that was my number one goal for the swim. I actually bought this little lamp the other day that’s a turtle to celebrate my turtle speed IM swim! I will probably never swim like Michael Phelps…but I bet he doesn’t have a turtle lamp. So we’re even.

Then I had to run up 3 flights on the helix…around and around and around…
finally I was directed back into Monona Terrace and into the bike bag room. I grabbed my bag and headed into the women’s changing area. I picked up a volunteer as I walked in who took me to a chair and dumped out my bag. I picked out what I needed (I had greatly over packed my gear bags with things I MAY need JUST IN CASE). Then I click-clacked my way out to the bikes. I had to stop at the port-a-potties on my way to the TA as I was unable to pee in my wetsuit. I finally headed towards Lucy…I think she was the last bike on her rack or the second to last. A volunteer had her already to go for me. I ran down the length of the TA (which was huge with 2700 projected competitors)…click, clack, click, clack (you couldn’t leave your shoes or helmet with your bike). Finally at the mount line, I got on my bike and was aware of three things: 1) I was thirsty, 2) I was hungry, 3) my legs hurt more than I felt they should. I had never started such a long bike with such a nutritional deficit, and I was feeling it. I drank 2/3 of one water bottle in the first minutes on the bike. Riding with this deficit would be something I plan to practice in the future.

I would learn to pee in my wetsuit!

My parents and I had driven the bike course a couple of days before, so
everything looked familiar. The additional riders were kind of distracting from the scenery. I was a better hill puller than many of the people around me. I was incredibly conscious of the drafting rule so it seemed I was working a bit harder than “my plan” just to get past people within the designated 20 seconds when I needed to. I tried to check in with myself and make sure I wasn’t driving too hard for me. After the first 2 miles, my legs were hurting and I was thinking, “Only 110 more miles to go.” Now people had told me it was going to be an amazing experience, even a spiritual one. One guy in line at packet pick-up said it “would change my life.” And all I kept thinking in those first 10 miles on the bike was, “How come no one told me how much this was going to suck? I mean, seriously!”

The reality is that I had much more fun on my training rides than I did on race day. I decided I would try to give back some during the race for all of the support that people had given me. The race bibs had to be at your back during the bike and each bib had the athlete’s name on it. So as I passed people I would say, “Great job, Michael.” “You’re doing great, Trish.” I tried to encourage as many as I could and ended up speaking to about 90% of the people that I saw. Sometimes it was at a tricky part or you were working up the hill, and talking wasn’t really easily accomplished. Most people were surprised to hear their name. Only one man was sour to my “great job” comment, responding, “Not really.”

I settled in and worked the hills as they came…my favorite roads were County Road J and Witte. The view of the farmlands was incredible! The hills up to this point were rough. Then came the huge downhill on Garfoot! I wish I could ride this when I’m not training for anything in particular or racing…I was nervous I would wipe out…but it would be way cool to see how fast I could get Lucy going by just tucking down and not braking at all! Bygones. I knew when some of the big hills started…after the turn onto Stagecoach. The end of the loop makes the beginning part seem flat. I was enjoying the beautiful farmland some and the cows that I saw (I smelled more than I saw), but again, I had to stay focused on the road and other riders unlike during my training rides where I could frequently be seen actually waving at cows (what can I say, I like looking at cows on my bike…hence the race in Wisconsin!). The lead male lapped me at mile 26 on the bike. The second lead guy actually littered on the course right in front of me. I wanted to yell at him…but he was too far ahead! The lead woman, who was the winner, lapped me at mile 52.

Now there is a hill on the Crowder’s Mountain Ride that I do…it’s at the end of the 60+mile loop. There’s no downhill before it and halfway up, the grade steeply increases. The word “Ouch” is actually painted on the road. I would ride up this hill going 6.8 mph with my heart rate jacked up into the 180’s, huffing and puffing until I crested the hill. I nicknamed this hill “Satan.” Now I was so hoping that I would finish the race and think that no hill in Dane County , Wisconsin could match Satan. And there wasn’t a Satan on the loop (yay!)….there were two (boo!). And two others that would have been contenders only the grade was a bit lower and the hills were much longer. And these 4 hills were all roughly in the same 10 miles….at the end of the loop. The crowd support on these hills was amazing…like 100s of people out there…and you saw them too…because you were only going 4.9 mph up the hills. It made me almost wish that I had a granny gear. I was happy that I had done all of those hill workouts grinding up hills in Davidson in my big ring just to build strength (and because I could :).

Soon I was heading into Verona . This was a big neighborhood where tons of
spectators came to watch, and my parents and Alison had taken the shuttle out there. Unfortunately, there is an aid station right here as well so instead of completely soaking in the crowd, you have to contend with the bottle exchange. It worked out okay and I saw my parents and Alison and waved at them! As I headed towards the finish of the second loop, it was very demoralizing to see the turn off towards the TA and then the turn right for the second loop. A dark cloud seemed to form over my psyche and I couldn’t shake it for almost the whole second loop. I have never experienced something like this. Not even during my first marathon in Chicago , when it was 90 degrees and they canceled the race. This isn’t something that I have experienced ever. People had said that at times during the race you would want to quit…but they didn’t say they would last 40 miles! Sitting here writing, I realize that it was despair. Complete despair. Why, I don’t know. It’s one of the things that puzzled me about my race. Maybe I had given out too much when encouraging others…maybe I needed to be filled up again. I wasn’t relishing the thought of those hills again, but they wouldn’t make me despair. I just don’t know. But I know I cried on my bike…about once or twice each 10 miles of that second loop. I’m not proud of that, but those are the facts. I felt wrecked inside. I kept saying the “Our Father” every time I would get upset. I didn’t stop, and kept passing people and kept trying to encourage them. My legs seemed completely separate from my insides. I still try to figure it out. Even after I finished the hills again, I didn’t feel relief so I don’t think it was related to the course. I’ll have to continue to mull this one over. Anyway, dark cloud on the second loop.

As I got to the difficult section of the loop, I just worked each hill. Many people were walking their bikes up the hill, but I wasn’t that bad off. There was less crowd support but people were still there cheering. I figured if my legs really hurt and I actually didn’t think I could make it up the hill, then I would stop. But I wouldn’t just walk up the hill to rest. There would be plenty of time for rest later. I had told my family that they could stay and watch me at Verona during the second loop or go back and watch the winner finish. I looked for the tall sign my parents had made and when I saw it, I started to cry again. So, unfortunately, this is how they saw me when I rode by the second time. Like I said, this was not my finest moment but this is how it happened. If my mother had been alone on the sideline, I probably would have stopped and hugged her and in all likelihood asked her if I could stop. Thankfully though, she was behind a fence, so I kept going. I made it to the turn off and headed back the 14 miles to the TA.

Throughout the entire course, I leap-frogged back and forth with “Kristi.” We would talk briefly whenever one of us passed the other. There is one last big hill on the way back in…it actually said “last hill” right on it. After that was over I just wanted to finish and get off my bike. The ball of my right foot was killing me from all of the pressure exerted on it while climbing. My rear also hurt, so I had to keep standing up to ease the pain. I think it was from just being on the bike so long and from pushing myself back down into the saddle for leverage when climbing. My stomach was also revolting against all of the Gatorade and gels that I had been feeding it. I went to eat my last gel, and I started to gag on it. I forced it down because I needed nutrition. My abdomen was aching, not terribly, but I couldn’t get down in my aerobars as this made the cramping worsen.

Work on mental preparation before the race. Memorize some bible verse to help get me through the rough patches. If I ever do this race again, I would work more hills in training. Also, I would change up my nutritional plan to hopefully avoide the abdominal cramping that I experienced.

Finally, I was approaching the helix. I switched to a lower gear and promptly dropped my chain. Several others in front of me were walking their bikes up the helix. Another rider came up behind me and said, “You know you can ride up the helix.” What a jerk! I said, “I just dropped my chain but thanks.” I rode up the helix and volunteers were waiting at the dismount line to take your bike from you. I ran into the transition rooms and my parents and Alison were there behind the barricade! I grabbed my bag, headed to the changing area, and my volunteer helped me get changed. It was a tad weird changing in a big open room (with a helper) but whatever. Bygones. The volunteer went to help me with my cycling gloves, and I told her that she didn’t want to touch those. I have a habit of…well, you know…sometimes wiping my nose on my cycling gloves (I never said I was perfect!). They were crispy after 7 hours of riding! Yuck. I had them fill a fuel belt bottle with water but realized as I ran out of transition that this was going to be very bouncy in my back pocket. I gave it to a volunteer and said my number, and it totally made it back to my stuff. The volunteers were awesome!

They volunteers really took care of everything for you.

As I started the run, a girl said to me, “You got me through the last 4 miles of the bike.” I replied, “Really?” She said, “It was the bible verse on the back of your leg.”

I was still having abdominal cramping and was able to run for a bit but then would have to walk and kind of hold my stomach tight. I was never doubled over but was afraid I would be if I pushed too hard. After a couple of miles of this, I started to think that this could be a very long marathon. I was drinking flat cola at the stations because 1) I absolutely did not want any more Gatorade and 2) my mom always said that this settles your stomach. I started to pray for God to help my intestinal issues resolve. Then I took that prayer back and prayed that God would help my intestinal issues resolve when I was near a bathroom! ;) After using a porta-pottie at mile 6, I began to feel better. I could finally start running, and I just felt good. I knew that I still had 20 miles to go, but running is where I feel comfortable. My body is able to set a rhythm, and then I can just go. It’s not like swimming where I feel I am constantly concentrating or during the bike leg of this race where I was constantly focused as the course is so technical and I was dealing with other riders. I felt so comfortable just running.

I did not run up the big hill…I figured I would be better off saving my legs. I also walked through every aid station because that’s what I always do. I told myself that I would run until “the wheels fell off.” That happened at mile 20. I felt like one of those cheap Barbie dolls whose legs could be pulled right out of their sockets. So I ran as much as I could and when I felt weak, I walked. Highlights of the run: 1) running in Camp Randall where the Wisconsin Badgers football team plays and posing like the Heisman trophy, 2) seeing a drum group in the later half of the race performing and dancing – I was a heartbeat away from going over there and dancing with them for a couple of seconds but figured it might sap some energy 3) the guy that shined the flashlight on the curb so people wouldn’t trip – how thoughtful! 4) running in the pitch black darkness. There was a girl that I leaped frog with back and forth for a while and a guy who had 4 buddies running with him for the last 9 or so miles.

As I came up on mile 23, I ran past a guy and said, “The only person I want to see right now is Mike Reilly.” He responded, “Is that your husband?” Hold up. I think this guy needed the medical tent. How do you participate in a WTC Ironman race, go to the athlete’s meeting where Mike Reilly was the MC, and not know who Mike Reilly is? And why would I refer to my husband by his first and last names? I explained that Mike Reilly is the guy who calls your name at the finish line and calls you an Ironman….not my husband. I hope that guy was okay.

Then I was almost there! My speed picked up just from the excitement. I did try to space myself out from others, so I could hear Mike say my name and then call me an Ironman. I remember that I didn’t see my parents right away, and I threw my arms in the air as I crossed the Finish Line and heard my name called. I was an Ironman! I was so glad that I had made it. My catcher came up and put his arm around me and asked if I was okay. I told him I wasn’t sure. He got me my medal, T-shirt, and finisher hat. He kept his arm around my shoulders helping to hold me up. Poor guy, I’m sure that I smelled awful. He took me over for my finisher photo then he said he thought I was okay. I went to meet my parents who were outside the fence. I thought I would cry when I finished… every time I had envisioned finishing when I was training, I would almost cry. But I was emotionally empty after the race. I had cried it all out on the bike. Now I just felt glad to stop. I also felt glad that I could eat something different beside gel and Gatorade! I had 2 pieces of pizza followed by a Big Mac and fries a couple of hours later.

I feel that I did okay. I had some issues, but I dealt with them and pushed through.

GI issues and abdominal cramping. Also getting mentally psyched out on the second bike loop.


So that’s it. That’s the story of how I became an Ironman. It only took 14 hours, 39 minutes, and 32 seconds. Yep, only 14+ hours….and 93+ hours of swimming training, 198+ hour of biking training, and 109+ hours of running training. Geez, when I put it like that…it doesn’t seem like that much! It seemed like it was thousands of hours! It’s documented forever, cemented in the race records of the WTC and of Ironman Wisconsin . My name is Kelly, and I’m an Ironman.