Two days ago, I became a half Ironman finisher for the first time. Six months of training culminated in one truly amazing weekend. I’m pretty sure I experienced the entire spectrum of emotions across Saturday and Sunday: Sheer terror. Uncertainty. Excitement. Hope. Pain. Triumph. Pure joy. There are so many things I could say and share about the weekend, but I’m going to try to capture the key moments and lessons learned from my 2012 Ironman 70.3 Augusta experience without boring you to tears. [Spoiler alert: I surpassed my goal time by nearly 30 minutes. Joy was a bit of an understatement at the end of the day!]

The only logical place to start is with my heartfelt gratitude and thanks. Thank you to all my friends, family and the many people online I’ve never even met who provided so much encouragement, support and motivation. This race report is just as much about all of you as it is about me. It’s about my incredible group of training partners who took this journey with me and helped me make Sunday a reality (huge shout out to Get Fit Atlanta and @alauth). It’s about my husband who made sacrifices in our everyday life to support the many early mornings, lame Friday nights, late dinners, droning conversations about swimming, biking and running and sometimes feeling like he had to take a backseat so I could fit it all in. It’s about every thoughtful message I received from the online running and triathlon community on Twitter, Facebook and here on this blog who blow me away every day with their kindness, advice and awesomeness. It’s about my parents and friends who always believe I can do anything I set my mind to.

Any athlete who says they finished a big endurance race because of their mental and physical strength alone is lying. My victory is your victory too.

So now the juicy (goal-smashing) details you’ve been waiting for …

 

The Day Before

I arrived in Augusta on Saturday morning and headed straight to the expo.

I picked up my race packet and timing chip and signed away the release of my medical information in case of a major accident (which was super reassuring the day before I’d be racing downhill at speeds of 30+ mph). I was officially now just #2791.

The next stop was the bike drop off. I headed to the transition area a few short miles away from the expo to turn in my bike. For Ironman and Ironman 70.3 races, you have to turn in your bike prior to the race. No bringing your bike on race morning.

I was glad to beat the crowds and get my bike racked before many other participants had gotten there.

I ran into my good training pal Andrea and we walked through the transition area together. Things started getting very real.

After we crossed all the logistical pre-race things off our to-do list, I met my Get Fit Atlanta training crew for lunch.

We analyzed all the details of the race as we loaded our bodies with carbs. I had a small salad, pasta with tomato sauce and 2 pieces of bread. It was so calming and reassuring to walk through all the elements of the race with my training group. We crossed every “t” and dotted every “i” as a team.

I then attended a race briefing given by the race director and head race official. They talked us through each leg of the course, discussed the rules and penalties (which made us even more neurotic than we already were) and bid us good luck.

Around 4 p.m., Mr. rUnladylike and I arrived at our hotel, where I spent the rest of the day relaxing and decompressing (aka watching college football – Go Noles!). I set out everything for race morning and packed all my bags I’d be taking with me to transition. I also filled up my water bottles for the bike and run (5 in total) with ice and water or Nuun to refrigerate overnight so they would be icy and cold in the morning.

My pre-race meal consisted of a small salad, a chicken breast seasoned with salt and pepper, a very salty baked potato and more bread. I drank lots of water all day, as well as 16 ounces of Strawberry Lemonade Nuun. I also had a handful of Swedish Fish for dessert.

I turned the lights out around 9:30 p.m., but tossed and turned all night. I don’t even think I fell asleep until 2:30 a.m. I was tired, but just couldn’t fall asleep. Blame it on the anxiety and adrenaline.

 

Race Morning

The alarm went off at 5 a.m. I got all lubed up and then headed to the transition area. For this race, I highly recommend having a spectator stay with you so they can drop you off near transition. Not only did this allow Mr. rUnladylike to calm my nerves and give me a much-needed pep-talk, but it also prevented me from being stressed out about driving, parking, dealing with shuttle logistics, etc.

I spent more than an hour setting up in transition: Carefully laying out all my gear, checking my bike and tires, reviewing the different transition zones, waiting in line for the beloved porta potty, etc.

When transition closed at 7:15 a.m., @alauth and I walked the 1.2 miles to the swim start. Although the race was providing shuttle transportation, we thought it would help us relax before the race … and it did.

Although the race started at 7:30 a.m., we were in swim wave 22 which started at 8:56 a.m. I thought we’d have a lot of down time, but there wasn’t a single second we weren’t using wisely.

Waiting in line for the porta potty. Again.

Getting into our wetsuits.

And telling each other we could do it.

I can’t tell you what a positive impact it made to have a friend to be with before the race who was in my same swim wave. One of the greatest pieces of advice I could give is to try to do the race with someone you know and care about. Being with @alauth at transition set up to the moment we jumped into the river was a game-changer. I can only imagine how anxious and alone I would have felt if I’d been standing in that swim wave alone. Running and triathlon seem like individual activities, but like you’ve heard me say before, they really are a team sport. I will never forget my pal @alauth and experiencing the final few moments together. It was special and emotional and I will always remember it.

 

The Swim: 1.2 Miles

I decided to line up to the far right of the group in the water, closest to the shore to avoid as much kicking, grabbing and swimming on top of people as I could. When the gun went off, it was chaotic for the first 400 yards. Thankfully after the first few minutes, the crowded river started to thin out as we all found our individual paths in the water. Augusta is known for the strong current in the river, which helped push us downstream as we swam toward the finish.

The river was full of tall grasses that got caught on my arms and watch several times but shook off easily. I’d heard horror stories of the seaweed, but it was much better than I was expecting. If you are considering doing this race and are worried about that, don’t be. It is not a big deal at all. The water was the perfect temperature (76 degrees F), and the swim seemed to go by quickly. I focused on trying not to expend too much energy, minimizing my kicking and remaining calm. In my mind, I was going through everything I would do during transition to get ready for the bike.

Official swim time: 00:29:43 (2 minutes faster than my goal time)

 

Transition #1

There was a short hill to climb coming out of the swim.

I jogged very slowly up the hill and through the swim chute, which winded around the back portion of the transition area. I happily found strippers waiting for me (not those kind of strippers, people! Wetsuit strippers) who quickly yanked my wetsuit off for me. I pulled on my bike socks, shoes, helmet, sunglasses and gloves. I put a small first aid kit in the pocket of my tri-top and a plastic bag full of salty potatoes in the front of my top to eat while on the bike. I even took a few seconds to spray sunscreen all over my arms and back (always a cancer-fighter at heart!). My bento box was pre-loaded with 4 Vanilla Honey Stinger Waffles, peanut butter pretzels, Honey Stinger Gold Gels and salt pills.

Official T1 time: 00:4:19

 

The Bike: 56 Miles

This was the part I was dreading the most. If you’ve been reading my blog for the past few weeks, you know this is the one sport out of the 3 that I’ve spent the least time focusing on. My goal on the bike was to get to the run … to exert enough energy to have the best possible performance while saving my legs for a strong half-marathon to follow. I tried to make sure throughout every part of the bike that whether I was on flat surfaces or climbing hills, I always had one additional gear left to give. If I felt maxed out, then I dialed it back one notch.

The weather was perfect. It was completely overcast and the temperatures hung around the 70-73-degree F range. It never rained while I was on the bike but it did start to mist. I took my sunglasses off at mile 20 and kept them off the rest of the race.

The entire course felt so much easier than when I test drove it 3 weeks earlier. It was nice to finally be riding it on fresh legs instead of the day after a long double-digit run. For the first 31 miles, I averaged 18.6 mph. The next 10-15 miles were pretty hilly, and my overall pace slowed a bit. I was passed left and right the first 20 miles, but I began to pass people toward the latter part of the bike. There were 3 aid stations, but I did not stop at any of them because I had enough fuel and hydration for the 3+ hours. I tried to eat every 25 minutes and drink even more frequently. I ended up eating all 4 Honey Stinger Waffles and about half of my potatoes. I never touched my salt pills or peanut butter pretzels. I drank 32 ounces of Strawberry Lemonade Nuun and about the same amount of water.

There was almost no spectator support on the course, so it felt a bit lonely and deserted. There were times when I was in a tight pack and other times when I was 100 yards away from the nearest competitor. Nevertheless, I was amazed at how quickly the bike passed by. 3+ hours is a long time. Everyone has asked me what I was thinking about all that time alone. I thought a lot about my strategy and how I was feeling. I talked out loud to myself several times: “Enjoy the moment. Enjoy this mile. Stay focused. You can do this. Keep believing. You’ve got this.” The next thing I knew, I was back at transition.

The coolest thing about the bike was that members of our armed forces dressed in their fatigues were scattered throughout all 56 miles of the bike to assist with traffic safety. It was motivating to have their support after all they do for our country.

Another humorous sighting was a man riding in a red and blue speedo that had “Man of Steel” written on the waistband. I know you wish I had a picture of that! I imagine he’s quite sore in the nether regions this week.

Official bike time: 3:11:17 – 17.57 mph (20 minutes faster than my goal time)

 

Transition #2

Finishing the bike was a huge mental relief. No flat tires. No crashes. No penalties. All the things I’d been worrying myself sick over didn’t happen. And knowing I was on the final stretch where I would finally get to see my friends and family was really exciting. It gave me a positive mental jolt.

I jogged my bike back to my transition area and took a little extra time to prepare for the run. I changed into my running shoes, retied my hair into a new ponytail, put on a visor and grabbed my Nathan handheld hydration bottle – which included 2 Honey Stinger gels and Swedish Fish in the pocket for fuel. I also stopped at the porta potty quickly before exiting T2.

Two quick tips that I would highly recommend for others:

• I put a shower cap over my shoes to keep them covered in case of rain at the beginning of the day. I wasn’t expecting it to rain, but it ended up misting for several hours. By covering my shoes, they remained dry while everything else around them was wet. That helped prevent wrinkled toes, heavy shoes and blisters.
• I brought a small lunchbox cooler filled with four Ziploc bags of ice that I put my water bottle in for the run. The bottle was still cold and full of ice 6 hours after I set up my transition area at the start of the run. It was great to have cold Nuun for the majority of the run. It would have been even more important had the sun been beating down on us. I will always do that moving forward.

Official T2 time: 00:3:43

 

The Run: 13.1 Miles

I left T2 feeling confident. I told a girl running next to me that we were on the home stretch and that we could do this. The half-marathon course was 2 loops, so I knew the second half could be mentally challenging. During the first mile, I focused on trying to find my legs, running to my comfort, not going out too fast and assessing how I felt after the first loop before deciding how to tackle the second half of the race.

I began passing people immediately and continued to do so for the entire run. At the first mile marker, I looked at my watch and realized I’d run an 8:24 mile. Too fast. I tried to dial it back a bit. There was a long way to go.

I saw my husband just after the first mile, and that was a HUGE pick-me-up. He shouted, “You look strong and hot; not necessarily in that order,” and everyone around us laughed.

I passed a spectator dressed up like a hot dog and two more dressed up like bananas, which made me smile. A little girl no more than 4-years-old was shouting, “Go Ironmans!” That also made me happy. I saw my husband again around miles 3.5, 5 and 12.8 and my Get Fit Atlanta coaches close to 4, 6, 9.5 and 11.5.

I also saw another friend around miles 3, 9 and 12. I can’t underestimate the power of looking forward to seeing someone you know. Sometimes that is the only thing that keeps you going mentally.

There was a lot of crowd support for about 8 miles of the run. The most evil part of the course was around mile 6.5 where one sign told you to turn right to go to the finish and the other said stay straight to start the second loop. You could hear the crowd at the finish line and the announcer shouting out each finisher’s name as he/she crossed the line. And I still have to run 6.5 more miles?!? You’ve got to be kidding me.

Mile 7 was pretty dead in terms of crowd support, and this was the place where I began to get mentally fatigued. I knew if I could just run another mile and a half or so, I’d be back with all the spectators and get to see my friends and family again. A woman on the back stretch was holding a sign that said, “If it was easy, everyone would do it.” Yes, lady. You are correct.

Miles 9-11 were the hardest. Ice cold sponges kept me going. Seriously. Looking forward to the sponges that volunteers were handing out at the aid stations every mile kept me putting one foot in front of the other for those three miles. I kept telling myself that I just needed to get to the next aid station, and then the next. I told myself that I could do anything for 30 more minutes, 20 more minutes, 10 more minutes.

And somehow at mile 12, I turned it up. I found a second wind. Mile 12: 8:27. And then I found a third wind the last 0.2 miles as I gave it all I had and sprinted at a 6:33 pace the last 400 meters (watch my video down the finisher’s chute).

Official run time: 1:57:23 – 8:57/mile (2.5 minutes faster than my goal time)

 

I felt so incredibly awesome after I crossed the finish and got that medal around my neck. I never cried, but I was emotional.

My husband was right there waiting for me. I didn’t have my total time visible on my watch (only my run time), so when I switched screens and saw my final race time I seriously thought I was going to jump for joy. A week ago when I wrote about how I was feeling about the race, I was targeting a finish of 6:15. My actual time was 5:46:25. The crazy range of emotions that I’d experienced during the last 48 hours ended with euphoria, which I think I’m still feeling right now. [You can see all the professional race photos here.]

After the Race

My happy delirium lasted about 10 minutes before it started pouring down rain. Mr. rUnladylike and I raced to our car (well, I walked very slowly). We drove back to the transition area (which was kind of a logistical nightmare) to pick up my bike and all my gear I’d left at transition. I started to feel a little nauseated and knew I needed to eat something salty, fast. I can literally count on one hand – actually more like 3 fingers – how many times I’ve had McDonalds in the last decade. But that is all I wanted. I told Mr. rUnladylike to step on it straight to McDonalds so I could get a small hamburger and large fries. Seriously, who am I?

I’m still coasting on my accomplishment from Sunday. I feel proud. I feel strong. I feel happy. People have been asking me a lot about what’s next. A full Ironman is not what’s next. It’s a marathon. There are only 26 days until the Marine Corps Marathon. Next stop: Washington, D.C. I think I’ll go for a run tomorrow. *smile*

 

What is the running, triathlon or race accomplishment you are most proud of?  What did it teach you about yourself? What is your favorite thing to eat after a big race?