So, Here's What Happened...

I'm going to start this post by saying that, if you are reading this in Facebook, you'll get a more reader-friendly version by clicking the link above (that directs you right to my blog site).

As you know, today was the BIG day:  swim 1.2 miles, bike 56 miles, and run 13.1 miles.  And my goals were to:

1. Finish.
2. If possible, finish happy and strong.
3. If possible, finish under 7 hours (yes, hours).

I woke up this morning at 3:30 am to get ready.  Although I was expecting to have trouble sleeping, I slept through the night very well (maybe it was the two beers with dinner, whoopsie).  But when I woke up this morning, my nervousness about the race began to manifest physically.  I had zero appetite and the thought of food made me nauseous.  Regardless, I choked down some peanut butter toast, and later a PowerBar, because I knew I would need the fuel.

That's right, I'm badass.

I began to get ready and put on my race tattoos -- which are temporary tattoos with your race number that go on your arms.  Yes, I am still wearing mine because they are super cool and a great conversation piece.  The drive to the race site was fine.  In fact, you couldn't ask for a more perfect day weather-wise for a race.  I think the universe recognized that I had paid my dues with enough long races in the pouring rain to warrant a beautiful day of weather and cooler temps.

More physical manifestations of nervousness as I set up my transition area -- and ran to the port-a-potties three times in a 30-minute period.  Come on, body, get your act together!

Hmmm...I wonder which one is me...

Race time approached.  I got ready for the swim (by the way, hooray, my swim wave, which went fourth, had pink swim caps -- you know how much I loathe, er I mean LOVE pink...).  Not only was I in the minority of the people who did not wear a wetsuit, but I was the only person there in an actual legit bathing suit.  It made me easy to spot. 

I was very self-conscious at the swim start, being an odd-ball.  However, I'm glad I didn't wear a wetsuit.  The water temperature was so warm that I overheard racers later saying they got overheated in their wetsuits.  Plus, I'm not naive enough to believe that a wetsuit will be the magic bullet to my swim speed.  I am a slow swimmer and that is my weak area.  I have made it a goal to work on that for the winter.  So I fully expected to be one of the last out of the water -- and I also knew I could make up a lot of that lost time in the two other parts of the race.

So off went the starting siren, and into Lake George I went -- and into surprisingly warm water (it was actually warmer than the air temperature at 7:00 am).  I approached the swim as my triathlon warm-up.  Not trying to swim fast, but just to swim steadily and swim confidently.  As I swam, I thought less and less about the race around me and more about the beautiful scenery.  The sun was just coming up over my right shoulder, and it reflected off the lake in a breathtaking way.  I felt this wave of serenity come over me and swam in a relaxed rhythm, enjoying every moment of being there and doing what I was doing.  My pace was robotic and my effort level was minimal.  I had a wonderful, enjoyable swim.  And, surprising myself, I passed a few pink-capped heads along the way without even trying -- and some white-capped ones from the wave before!

And off I go!

Despite my great swim, I was, as predicted, at the tail-end of the finishers.  But not to worry, because I knew I could catch up during the rest of the race.  I fueled up in the transition area, hopped on my bike, and began the long ride around Lake George, up to Schroon River, and back.  There were mile markers posted every 10 miles, and, curiously enough, I noticed that each 10-mile segment came with a theme, which I'll share here with you:

• Miles 0-10:  Holy hills, Batman! - this first leg of the race was a loooooong uphill climb.  It was tough, but I was glad it was over first.
• Miles 11-20:  Getting my rhythm - now that the course flattened out, and would remain flat for the majority of the race, I found my nice, even race pace and settled in.  I started feeling good.
• Miles 21-30:  Fuel, fuel, fuel - I noticed that my stomach discomfort from the early hills delayed my nutrition strategy, so I spent this time getting back on track with my timing and eating.
• Miles 31-40:  Ouchies! - This is where things started to hurt.  My right hip flexor started to cramp up a little.  Then I was supremely aware of the timing chip digging into my ankle.  And then, I felt the bike seat.  Oh god, that bike seat!  The theme for this leg could also be called "Fidget."
• Miles 41-50:  Delirium - My aches and pains started fading into the background.  Actually, everything started fading into the background.  And I began singing Gotye's "Somebody That I Used to Know"... at the top of my lungs.  I can't remember if there were other people around at the time.  I hope not.
• Miles 50-56:  Wheeee! - Remember that killer hill at the beginning of the race?  Well now I was going in the opposite direction.  Very little pedaling required.  Me likey.

I got back from the bike leg tired, a little sore, and in total denial that I still had 13.1 miles of running ahead of me.  This is the time I made my first pit stop (thank god there were port-a-potties in the transition area), changed my gear, and headed out for the run. 

Gearing up and getting ready to run -- with a smile!

Now the run consisted of two 6.55-mile loops, which I totally forgot at the beginning of the run leg, but KNOW that I knew that before the race started (I blame the Delirium miles of the bike for this).  So as I passed mile marker 7 not even a mile into the race, I started to freak out.  Did I go the wrong way?  Then I passed a different marker (later I realized it was a different color sign) for mile 2 shortly after.  Then a marker for mile 9.  What was going on?  I looked around in confusion.  Everyone else seemed fine with the bizarre jumps in mile markers.  It wasn't until I started complaining out loud to a fellow racer about the confusing, misplaced mile markers that I "got it" and remembered I had to repeat this course a second time.  I get the "duhhhh" award for that one -- although it did make for an interesting way to get through the first few miles.

By now, the sun was out (it was after 12:00 pm) and in full heat.  And the uphills on the run were challenging.  I ended up walking some of them (at that point, walking didn't seem much faster than running anyway).  The heat was definitely getting to me, paired with my overall fatigue.  I approached an aid station and there was some water -- I dumped it over my head.  And then, what I learned was the holy grail of aid station hand-outs, an ice-cold water-drenched SPONGE!  OMG!  I never thought I would get so excited over something, but, looking at me, you would've thought it was Christmas morning.  I wedged it under the straps of my running top, right against the back of my neck, and replaced it at each aid station.  Each new sponge woke me up and refreshed me. 

I noticed I was feeling pretty good.  Having done three marathons, I was waiting for the crash and burn to happen -- that moment when your body starts to lock up and everything gets SO HARD.  That's when you start to consider quitting and question the reason why you decided to do this in the first place.  But it wasn't coming.  I'm not saying the run was easy.  It was HARD, but not unbearably so.

Here I come!  Still smiling!

That familiar feeling did come at around mile 11.  My hip flexors are always the first thing to go.  They locked up and I noticed my range of motion with each stride got shorter and shorter.  But then a weird thing happened -- I could hear Tom Hanks's voice (backstory: "A League of Their Own" was on TV last week, and I watched it because it's one of my favorites, even though I've seen it about three thousand times).  The voice said, "It's supposed to be hard.  If it was easy, everyone would do it.  The HARD is what makes it GREAT."  That line from the movie became my running mantra and got me through those last couple of miles.  I kept going until I could hear the cheers of the crowd, and then THAT fueled my effort.  I kicked it in across the finish line -- I had just completed my first half-iron-distance triathlon!  And I felt good!  And, I was definitely done in under 7 hours.  The official times aren't posted yet, but my clock time was 6 hours, 50 minutes, and change...but my swim wave didn't leave for 10-12 minutes after the clock started.  So my actual time was even better!

Check out the couple on the left.  "Abner, I told you this was a bad spot to camp!"  "Oh, quiet you!"

So now the race is over!  I proudly mounted a 70.3 decal on the back of my car (my goal is to wallpaper my car with race decals -- I am well on my way!) and had a victory dinner with my friend Emily...making a guiltless pig of myself.  And I am really not that sore.  We'll, of course, see the real damage tomorrow, but I am not doing the "marathon hobble" that I am often known to do right after a difficult race.  A little tightness in my calves, hamstrings, and saddle area -- but other than that, I'm pretty good!  And I had fun, which was the most important thing of all.

I learned a lot of things in training for and completing this race.  Here's a list:

1. You can accomplish ANYTHING if you understand what you have to do to get there and do the work.  Every training ride, run, and swim I did led me to reaching my goal.
2. You have to do it for YOU.  It takes a lot of motivation for putting in the training hours.  I will admit, there were some days when I made excuses and skipped a workout.  But I didn't let it become a habit by reminding myself WHY I was doing those hours of training and buckling down and doing them anyway.  If you are not doing it for you, there is no way you will be willing to work hard for something.
3. The endurance sports community consists of some of the best-natured, kind-hearted, and encouraging people on the face of the earth.  I can't name another sport where your fellow competitor can also be your biggest fan, offering you words of encouragement when you need them the most.
4. None of this matters without wonderful friends and family to share it with.  If you are reading this blog, then you've no doubt followed my (insane?) exploits and offered me words of encouragement and advice.  I read every bit of it and am grateful for it.  I was a bundle of nerves yesterday (Mom, you can attest to this) and I really couldn't shake them until I went on Facebook and checked my email, and saw all the supportive comments you gave to me.  Thank you very much.  You helped me believe I could do this.
5. I've said it before and will say it again: love is when someone is willing to spend their day pretty much bored...waiting around at a race site...potentially for hours...just for those eight seconds to cheer you on as you cross the finish line.  Mom, you are my fan club leader, event photographer, and partner in crime.  I love you so much!

With all that said (you're still with me, aren't you?  Or did the length of this post scare you off?), the half-iron-distance triathlon was a great experience and I'd recommend trying it if you're looking for a challenge.  As for me, I haven't figured out what the next challenge will be.  But when I do, I'll let you know.