Ok, this is where it got ugly. I hate wetsuits (I think I mentioned this above?). It's worth repeating. They do not speed me up at all, but they speed up others who do not know how to swim otherwise. So, I'm in the midst of it. IMTX was hot so I was able to break away and get clear water. The first 15-20 minutes were horrific. I got kicked in the temple hard and pushed under more times then I can count. Swallowed quite a bit of the nasty water (think Lake Woodlands, can't see your hand dirty). Someone grabbed my already tweaky shoulder and that was the end of it. After what felt like forever it was still crowded but I had some clear water. My shoulder was in agony so I could only breath to one side. I hate doing that but what else could I do? I couldn't get any height on the other side to breath safely. Breathing every 2 my neck is rubbing extra on that side. Swim...swim...swim...where the heck is the dang turn buoy? Under the next bridge? Nope, keep on keeping on. Kept telling myself "this is what you were born to do!". I was rseady to be done with the swim, not just looking for the halfway mark! Finally we get to the turn buoy which is just chaos. Here's the thing about the turn buoy. You can be the only person in the water, as soon as you hit that buoy everyone is there. There's normally no swimming there, just waiting your turn. Well, that's what the chicks do. We even chat and wish each other luck. The dudes? Yeah, y'all suck. You kick and punch and get upset with the person in front of you. Even though the line is 30 thick and there is no place for that poor person to go. I get around it, break away and to the next turn buoy (they had us swim across the lake and turn again to come back the other way). That one, the idiot next to me decides I must look like a good floatation device. The 3rd time he dunked me I saved enough air to scream at him. He just looked at me like I was the crazy one. UM, you are taking your hand, putting it on my head and pushing me under. Not just once, repeatedly. He was just lucky my shoulder hurt as much as it did so I had to play nice. At this point, I'm bloating from the lake water I've swallowed. I can feel the stomach extension and it's no bueno.

After that turn buoy things got better. I had a lot of open water and despite my shoulder and now very chafed neck, I could at least get in a rhythm and swim. As I got towards the exit though...ugh! Everyone decided to sprint for the finish (um, morons!) and there was a guy moving so much water I felt like I was in a tsunami. Unable to get around him (every time I got close I'd catch his wave and ride it backwards) I just stopped and treaded for a bit and let the crazy peeps go. I finally got to the exit and had a lot of trouble getting up to the steps, they were higher then the water level. The volunteer grabbed a hold of me and pulled me up. Although I wasn't cold any of the swim, towards the last 10 minutes my feet had really gone numb. Climbing wet steps on numb feet is just not a good idea, I missed 2 of them! Got to the top and saw Andy and my family cheering me on. Stopped to say hi, then walked through transition.

Swim time ~1:12. Last one was 1:15 so I was very happy with this. Could have been closer to 1:10 but the end was such a mess I had to slow down or risk going under again.

Choose a non-wetsuit race. Not swallow half the lake.

I stopped at the wetsuit strippers and said hi to my girl. As she was stripping off my wetsuit she told me I was downright adorable. What? She said everyone else was all business, I was all cute and friendly and made her day. Awesome! It was then a good 5 minute walk to the transition area (yes, I looked at my watch when I finally arrived). Ever touch dry ice and it's so cold it burns? Yeah, that was my feet with every step. I had to walk, no running on these. I got my bag, saw the port-o-cans and dropped my bag in the field and went in to get rid of some of that water I had drank. I came out and saw people strewn all over the grass, getting ready there. My bag was already on the floor, bending down to get it seemed silly so I sat down and got ready there. A volunteer came and yelled at us that we were supposed to be in the tents, but seriously about 40 of us had stuff strewn everywhere, like we were going to pack it all up to go to the tent and take it back out? Nah. Took my time to clean up, put on my socks that we made into arm-warmers (it was supposed to warm up and I could throw these away with no regrets) and went off to get my bike.

T1 time = eh, who am I kidding? I have never worried much about my transition times

I got on my bike and my feet were killing me! I also noticed a not-so happy area where all the skin had rubbed off on my right arm, just under the armpit, I knew this would not be good on the run. I'd have to glide it later. The course is 3 loops, a little bit around town (flat and not-windy), then about a 10 mile out and back, all uphill one way, all downhill the other. The weather forecast was for a high of 74 and 2-3 mph winds. PERFECT!


It was crowded, very crowded at first. There was no way to get a nice line, so I did what I could not to draft until we hit the highway. At that point the crowds thinned out a bit. However, 2-3 mph winds my bootie! I was giving it not quite all I had (I had to leave something for the run), but pushing hard and holding about 13.5mph the entire way up. And, I was passing people! People were passing me too (including a 3 man thick organized group of 18 dudes, obviously working together to cheat intentionally as they were using both hand signals and words to work together. Bastards!), but to be passing people at 13.5 is ridiculous. My stomach was giving me major issues from all of the water I had swallowed and taking in calories was just not an option. After what felt like an eternity (although was only 1:10), I finally hit the turn-around. OMG, SO FUN! I was easily going 23 the entire time, parts of it I hit over 25 and couldn't even pedal, I had run out of gears! On one rather fast part, I had to let out a "wheeee!". Big dudes were flying by me, but I know I can't descend like them and I was only racing myself so who cares? I had so much fun heading down. The lack of effort helped my stomach settle. It was still distended and cranky, but I could finally take in calories so I started eating and found myself very hungry!

I finally got to the start/turn-around and it was lined with crowds for a good mile or 2 each way. This was very fun. I reminded myself the next leg would hurt, the uphill would be hard but I'd get redemption on the downhill. I made my way through town and hit the highway again. Um? A pretty constant pace of 17 made me think the winds had shifted. I hit the top and turned to descend and kept right at 17. Ugh! I had to push both ways to stay at 17? So not fair! Got to the bottom again and the crowds had thinned immensely, but there were still people out there. I was not happy to turn around for the 3rd loop.

My last 3 rides presented me with a surprise - at 45 minutes into one, my knee had started killing. Suddenly, sharp excruciating pain made me turn around, take a shortcut home, pedaling one-legged the whole way. My next 45 minute ride on the trainer was cut to 40 as I couldn't take the pain anymore. Not good a week before IM! Andy fixed up my bike the Saturday before the race and while doing so, noticed my saddle was completely loose. We determined it had fallen down, which would explain the sudden onset knee pain (which only hurt when riding). Saturday he gave me a new bike fit, so not good the weekend before IM! Sunday I rode 40 miles on it and determined it was good enough. However, 112 was too much on this new fit. My neck was in excruciating pain, I had to keep sitting up to stretch it and relieve the pressure. By the last loop my left IT band was kicking in randomly. I was worried about the upcoming run and still had about 40 miles left on the bike. As I climbed the hill for the 3rd and final time, one girl I was leapfrogging remarked the course had lost it's novelty at this point. I whole-heartedly agreed. We had no winds this loop, I was holding constant around 16 and suffering. At least I could descend nicely, right? Right as I hit the last peak before the turn around, I suddenly increased speeds to 19 - on the steepest part of the hill. This CANNOT be good. I was right - the winds had kicked up again, stronger then before. Descending at 16 was a monumental effort. UGH! My neck hurt, I was chafed to pieces from the wetsuit and I was so sick of being on my bike. So not happy that the winds were in my favor twice and against me 3 times. I wouldn't complain if it was 3&3! But no, they had to die down on one of the trips. Grrr!

I finally caught a glimpse of it, the 100 mile marker. I yelled out "YES!" and the girl passing me goes "that is my 2nd favorite site on this race course, the finish line being the first". I whole-heartedly agreed with her. Finally, after over 6 hours I saw the end. I felt so sad for the people I saw heading out for yet another loop. I was so happy to get off my bike but in so much pain. The volunteer took my bike and I saw Andy. I took one look at my chafed arm and told him it was going to be a very long marathon. I was going to take a break in transition and I'd see him in a bit.

Overall on this I ate well. My left foot got feeling back around mile 40 but the right took until 90 to come back to me. It got hot pretty quickly so I took my arm-warmer socks off at mile 7 and during the 2nd loop started dousing myself in cold water every aid station. I was getting really hot though which is very unusual for me on the bike. I felt like I ate and drank just the right amount and put the correct effort in as my legs were mostly fresh and ready to run, but I had certainly pushed the entire time.

Final time: 6:17. I wanted sub-6 but after the first loop determined this course I would have to be happy with 6:15 (my first loop was 2:05, so 6:15 would be perfectly even splits). 6:17 means I was pretty much consistent throughout, not to shabby for 112. I am not happy with the overall avg speed though, I wanted to be faster then I was in TX. Luckily at the time I didn't know what I had done in TX so I still had a shot at my goal of <13.

This time they were ensuring we entered the tent. I dropped my bags for a much needed bio-break, then proceeded to the tent where I had what was probably the world's best volunteer helping me. She took her time with me and we went through each item in the bag in an organized manner. She got me into my run shorts, turned on my garmin while I put on my shoes. She covered me in both bio freeze and sunscreen (Um, let me tell you how much both of those hurt when you have no skin left on your neck. Yeah, it's so not pretty). Put on my shoes, double knotted them (yes, I have gotten away from bungee laces for a variety of reasons, my feet and body are much happier this way). We coated my arm in vaseline (did you know bodyglide melts if left outside? It does, and it's gross). Finally I was on my way.

Pack myself on ice and take a long nap

I started out incredibly hot, but my legs felt so good running. They were fresh, happy to be off the bike and had a lot of snap in them. I was very happy about this. I found Andy and my entire family right away. Bill, Aunt Marcella and Uncle Richie had all made it by this point so I stopped to thank them all for being there. Hugs, kisses and I was off running. My legs felt 100% but I was so hot. So very, VERY hot. I couldn't understand it. ALL of my training has been in the heat, most of my long runs were in the heat of the day. It was only supposed to be 74 here, how can I be so hot? Turns out it was well over 80, but I was still too hot for 80. I ran/walked according to plan through the 2nd aid station. But, it was getting harder and harder to even move, I was so very hot. I started grabbing ice, putting it down my shirt, in my hands and chewing on it. Running a bit, walking a lot. Nothing helped. By mile 4 I was completely soaked from all of the sponges, ice and water I had tried, but I was seeing double and so very dizzy. Oh, and my stomach was a mess from the lake water. This is honestly where it all went wrong.

Up until this point, I feel even now that I executed perfectly (with the exception of drinking the lake). I just could not bring my core temperature down. Now, in hindsight, I completely understand. I was fighting a virus/infection/something. For the 3 days before the race I could do almost nothing but sleep. I slept almost all day and all night and was exhausted. I had the start of some congestion and a sore throat. Now, 2 days later and being incredibly sick the past few days, I have a very strong feeling whatever my body was fighting (and whatever has subsequently taken me down) was the cause of my overheating. It explains why I was warm the night before, the morning of and even in the cold water. What could I do differently about this? I have ZERO idea.

Now, illness aside I made a very crucial mistake here. I was so hot, so dizzy and honestly unable to think straight. I started to have a panic attack. A very sever panic attack. I was so scared and so alone and I honestly lost it a bit. The overheating and stress kicked in my asthma. Would it have kicked in from just the heat? I don't know, but I know my panic attack did not help and I am still incredibly upset with myself for allowing myself to get to this. I was walking, trying not to cry and unable to breath at all. I took 2 puffs of the inhaler and I could breath just a bit, but it was so painful. I walked and walked and finally took 2 more puffs. They did nothing. I was wheezing and dizzy and I was fighting to keep walking. I kept trying to bring myself out of it, but it was too late. I had walked a good 2 miles now without even trying a step of running. I kept walking, telling myself to just keep moving forward. I didn't want to. I had let myself down. My family was all out here cheering me on, what would I tell them? I can't run anymore? My legs were fine. My lungs (and brain) had failed me. I kept walking. And walking. And walking. Finally at the very end of the loop it was a slight downhill and I met "Iron Mike". We ran very slowly together talking. Then I saw my family. I curled up on Andy and completely lost it. I was crying, bawling, out there in the open in front of everyone. I was gasping for breath, I couldn't get any oxygen in. The looks on all of their faces...ok I'm crying again 2 days later just thinking about it. They were all so encouraging - "you've come so far", "you're our hero for just trying this", etc. It didn't help much though, I could see the fear. My dad decided to walk along the sidelines with me for a bit. I knew it was against the rules, but seriously, if they DQed me I'd still be allowed to finish and get the medal, I just wouldn't get official results.

We walked and walked and walked. I can't do math and run or walk, but we figured out even at a walk I had plenty of time to finish this. Half way through the first loop we jogged the downhills and only the downhills, as soon as it would flatten out my lungs would let me know and we'd be stopped. We saw the family again, they had decided to watch from the bridge so they could see me more then once a loop. What a wonderful surprise! Of course, they were on a downhill so they thought I was all better. No such luck. My mom informed me people were still just now getting off the bike, I had plenty of time to make the cut-off. Right after seeing them, I was on a downhill and jogging and smiling that I had just seen them. I heard a spectator "she has the most gorgeous smile, how is she smiling at this point in the race?". We hit special needs. My shoes were dry but at the rate we were walking it would be dark long before we made it back around. I was warned that at this race as soon as it got dark, the cold sets in. I went to my bag to get my long-sleeves and gloves. While there, my dad said I made his favorite comment of the race. Digging through my bag I yelled "screw it! If I'm going to walk, I'm putting on my tiara!"

I guess I should explain. On the bike and run course you get a bag you can fill before the race with anything (well anything legal) you might need during the race. New bike tubes, food, dry shoes, etc. Special needs? Mine included a tiara. I love running in costume. Andy puts up with it and 2 nights before the race we went to the mall looking for something I could wear during IM. I found a tiara. I said it wasn't a full costume but the best I could do. He said it was perfect - "after all it is a friggen IM, you don't want to go too crazy" (my new favorite quote). So yes, my special needs bag contained new shoes and socks (unnecessary this race but a godsend in TX), a warm shirt, gloves and a tiara. I almost didn't wear it, I was so down. Then I remembered Jerry, repeating my own advice to me - "have fun". So I sucked it up and donned my tiara and off we walked.

Instantly the course changed. Every spectator and volunteer out there commented on my tiara. "Love the tiara", "you are so pretty", "go princess go!". My dad was SHOCKED at the difference in the crowds that one little tiara could make. Yes, he was still with me. We walked the entire 2nd loop except for a few downhills. Towards the end, my asthma was behaving. I had full breaths and I was so sore from walking. I don't walk, I RUN. We started running flats and downhills. My legs felt so much better running. Well, jogging but whatever. Loop #2 done. Loop #3 we were running a bunch more. No uphills. The one I didn't see caught my asthma instantly. But, flats and downhills were running. "Go princess go!". My dad and I laughed, I am the least-princessy girl on the face of the planet, if these people only knew...

About half way through the 3rd loop my dad spilled the beans. He said he had joined me in hopes to calm me down, but mostly because he was afraid he was going to have to pull me off the course. He said he didn't trust me to make the correct call if I was sick enough it was probably going to come down to that. He thought (correctly) that he was the only one I would trust if it came down to that. It scared me that he said that because before he joined me I kept questioning when do I give in? When do I cross the line from pushing through to putting myself in danger? When he joined me the thought had passed. I hadn't realized why, but I was on the same wavelength as him.

It had long gotten dark and I was still overheating. Dizzy, oh so dizzy, but I could keep going. I drank broth, my stomach couldn't tolerate water. It was sloshy and miserable, but I kept running flats and downhills, walking the uphills. At 25 my dad split off to head to the finish line. I kept going. At this point the course wasn't so crowded, but the crowds who were left were loud and rowdy. The drunk college guys would yell to us "what loop" and if we said 3 they would form a bridge screaming wildly and smacking us on the butts as we ran through. So fun! Almost immediately after I ran by the smile-comment guy again, heard him say "still? She's still smiling?!".

I ran by other spectators who I recognized and they were all so happy and cheerful I was done. 2 old guys who earlier said they were cheering for me were on the way to the finish and said "see, we know you'd make it" and gave me high-5s. The turn to the finishers chute put us down a rather dark alley. There were 3 of us, I walked a bit. I wanted to be fresh in the chute AND I wanted it all to myself. Let the others go and have my moment. I turned the last corner and the crowds were wild. "Erin Alwon, you are an Ironman!" I heard it this time. Then I saw a hand to high-5. I did. Immediately countless others came out, I ran down the chute, slapping every last one of them. The announcer then said "and she's going to take her time and high-5 everyone in the chute". Ha! In my tiara, going out in style.

Run time - I have no idea. 6+ for sure. Crossed the finish line and saw one of my old swimming buddies who moved to Ft Worth a few years back. Hung with him, then went to get some food. Found Andy, then my family. It was late, they all went home quickly leaving my dad and Andy to pick up the pieces. I still wasn't cold. I never even put on long sleeves, not even long after the race when the adrenaline had worn off.





Not be sick and therefore not overheat and have an asthma attack. Turns out I was fighting off a bug all week which is why I was so tired. And, why I couldn't control my body temperature on race day. My throat was sore for the next week and my nose clogged. Ugh! Not fair!

14:xx finish. Nothing close to what I wanted. Not the way I wanted to go out. I'm still more than a bit depressed, I know I had better in me. I'll never prove that though, I'm done with IM. When I signed up for this race I said it would be my last one. The training proved it again and again. I am done. Going in I knew anything could happen out there. I didn't expect for the hits to keep coming. I expected it to hurt. I expected my legs to fail. I didn't expect to let myself down mentally. I didn't expect for my lungs to fail so drastically. I finished, I have to be thankful for that and be forgiving of myself. I did the best I could for the hand I was given and I have to take pride in that. With time the hurt will wash away and the memories will become fonder. The finishers medal will be hung on the wall with the others. The stories will get more colorful.

I am so grateful for the family that traveled from all over to be with me. I'm so grateful for Andy, being by my side for all of the training. So grateful to my dad, who hasn't run double digits since our last marathon together, several years ago. He was out there for a good 16+ miles and in street clothes at that. I'm so grateful for you, my friends, who have cheered me on this way and watched online, not knowing why I was walking or what was happening out there. This sport has given me so much, it's an impossible feeling to know I'm closing the door on that part of my life. It's defined me for many years now and been the basis for so much I have built. I'll still be running. But I'm retiring from the triathlon world. It's time for the next challenge. The next chapter. I'll take what I have learned here and apply it elsewhere, as I always have. It'll just be so very weird for me not to be a triathlete anymore. I'll always be an Ironman though. No matter what happens in life, I'll have crossed those finish lines despite the blood, sweat and tears shed out there (both times). Pain is temporary, the pride and title of Ironman and the friends made through it are forever.