- I rode my first century!
- I drank a V-8 on my ride, and it was delicious (thanks for the tip, Debi!)
- A passenger in a dark blue SVU (license plate 158 GVD) was not happy to share the rode and lobbed an open beer out the window at me
- I threw up on myself (I burped, and the last swig of water came up. It was weird)
Ah, Muncie, for such a small town, you put on a helluva race.
Having taken the day before the race off from work, I slept in, packed, showered, packed for Ben, and then waited for Ben to get home from work. Once he did, we managed to somehow fit both bikes in the back of the Prius, dismantling them both pretty much completely. We just barely had room for our bags and ourselves.
The drive up was pretty uneventful, and we missed the 6pm pre-race meeting by mere minutes, so we got our body markings (permanent marker, which didn't fare well against hotel sheets or the bend in our elbows) and farted around the expo (Ben got a tri shirt, I got some Gu Roctane) before heading over to the hotel to check in. After the pre-race meeting at 8pm, we drove out to the race site, took some pictures, and then made a beeline for IHOP to carbo load. I had chocolate chip pancakes, and they were fantastic.
Since we were getting up well before dawn, we went to sleep pretty much right away, and I luckily did not suffer from Ben's "racemares," though I did have a weird dream about the actual Ironman race. However, I was awakened at 4:32 am by my cell phone ringing. Debi's car wouldn't start. Crap. Unfortunately, with our bikes in the back, we couldn't really help her, so we hit the breakfast bar while she got in touch with her coach. I had a bagel with cream cheese while Ben opted for, get this, sausage, biscuits, and gravy. Before a race. Ew. I would have hurled, but hey, it wasn't my call.
When we got to the race site, it was announced that a storm was moving in more quickly than anticipated, so the swim waves were starting earlier. Fine with me, less time to freak out. 
At 7:16 am, my wave took to the lake, and the free for all began. I managed to only take a few blows about the head and face, and then settled into my groove. I did well on the swim, except that I swung out too far to the left on the last leg and had to cut back in towards shore against some really choppy water. As I stood up on the beach, I noticed that it had started to rain, but really, what did it matter? I was soaked with smelly lake water, and was going to go sweat for the next several hours. I make it up to T1, and the rain starts coming down harder, and I can hear rumblings of thunder. I managed to get my shirt on (hard to do, since the shirt is tight, and my skin was wet), shoes and helmet fastened, gloves on, and bike un-racked, and headed out to the road. As I was clipping into my pedals, there is a HUGE bolt of lightning and crash of thunder. I briefly think, Huh, Ben's probably still in the water. That can't be good. However, as the bike section went almost immediately downhill and I was already rolling, I had to concentrate. (swim time 33:55, T1 3:17)
(Amy Engel, Cheryl Donohoe, and myself, pre-swim)
Though it rained for the first 50 miles of the bike (it let up for miles 50-53) and the last 3, the bike course was really nice.
The rain was coming down so hard at times that it hurt, but the roads were flat, smooth, and most importantly, car free. They actually close down a major US highway (US35) for the race. It was so nice not to have to worry about some jackhole zooming past really closely because he's pissed about all the bikes on the road. However, we had been warned that the last 6 miles of the race were pretty rough. No potholes, but a lot of cracks (they had been sealed) and just really uneven. Ka-thunk, ka-thunk, KA-THUNK. I did manage to keep an 18.7 mph on this course, a personal best. (Bike time 2:59:24, T2, 4minutes even) 
Whereas the bike course was flat, the run course was hilly. Luckily, I like hills on a run. The rain let off somewhere between miles 1 and 2, which was about the same time I got my legs back under me. I just concentrated on getting to the aid stop, and walked when I needed to. Just before mile 3, I see this guy coming towards me (it was on out and back course) who was apparently racing in a pair of nut huggers, because I swear, I thought he was naked (he was wearing a race belt with his number on it. and it was covering his bit). 
I had to ask the guy next to me, w ho had thought the same thing, but as the "naked" guy passed, we could see his suit, which was almost the same color as his skin. Weird.
The aid stops were awesome - there were so many volunteers. Kids, Mormons, men wearing parrot hats; they were all so very nice. I think I freaked a 13 year old out when I told him that I loved him when he handed me a cup of Coke. 
By the time I got close to the finish, it was getting pretty warm, and I was ready to be done. Now, I must admit, I do not agree with whomever thought it was a good idea to have the finishing chute at the top of a hill. That's just mean. As I crested the top, I saw Ben and he started screaming for me to go, go, go! Now, he always cheers for me, but this was different - he seemed really excited about something. Turns out he checked the clock and realized that I had a shot to make it under 6 hours, which I did, just barely. (Run time 2:18:38, race time 5:59:45)
I was 10th in my age group in the swim (out of 20), and 11th on the bike (I think, I can't remember), and 13th or 14th on the run, and 10th in my age group overall, though 3 did not finish the race. All in all, a good day.
This week was the week I've been dreading since I reviewed the whole training program. I had the "Four Days of Forty," meaning I rode 40 miles a day, Monday through Thursday, plus another workout of some sort daily. So, that's why my Muncie report isn't up yet, but it is coming.
I'm just going to go ahead and say it now: I'm sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. But, I still just went completely off on you. It's not you. It's not you at all. It is so completely, totally me.
The training, the hunger, the lack of enough sleep, the nerves - they've all just been building and building, and I've become a little testy. Okay, a lot testy. The race is finally close enough that it seems real, and I'm getting just a tad (ha!) nervous. Why else would I have a little meltdown while on a bike ride with Ben? Ben, who doesn't have to park his rear on a saddle for 5 hours at a stretch, who can crank it out while my legs feel like lead because I had a run earlier this afternoon, who just wants to ride fast because he can - Ben is the one who was on the receiving end of my little tirade of all-I-wanted-to-do-was-have-a-nice-ride-with- you-and-why- does- it-always-have-to-be-a-race-sometimes-I'm-supposed- to-be-doing-a-recovery-ride- why- won't-you-just-slow-the-f*ck- down-once-and-awhile?!?!?
So, if I haven't gone off the deep end with you yet, just wait. You'll have your turn. And if you have, once again, I'm sorry. It's probably safe to assume that at any given time, I am at least two of the following: tired, cranky, sore, hunger, nervous. Approach me as you would a dog you don't know: hope I'm friendly and will wag my tail, but realize that I may very well bite.
Oh, and to my co-workers: I'm sorry if I've stolen your food. I ate someone's Cheerios today because it was either that, or eat one of you.
As the training hours get longer and longer, and I spend more time biking and swimming without music, I've been getting to know myself pretty well. When I run, I usually have my ipod with me (except in races; I tend to do those music-free). But, that's just not feasible when I'm on the bike or in the water. And even with the headphones on, I'm still by myself.
That means I spend a lot of time alone. Inside my own head. Which, while it can be a wonderful, sparkly magic place, it can also be a terrifyingly dark, twisted place. A place where I fantasize about food and dry socks and taking a nap and petting the cats. Or, on occasion, killing Debi for talking me into all this. Or setting fire to my saddle so it knows the pain my hoo-ha is feeling. Or just sitting down on the side of the road and crying because all I want to do is stop.
It's not that I'm hating every minute of this. That's not even close to true. I am enjoying myself. I've gotten used to pretty much not having a life outside of my job and workouts. But sometimes - just sometimes, no particular time, no particular reason - I just want this all to be over. I just want to be able to get up on a Saturday morning, have a cup of coffee, and go for a run only if I feel like it. To go for a bike ride just for the hell of it. To lie on the side of the pool and not do laps. To come home from work, eat dinner, and just talk to my husband.
I don't want to come across as whiny. I know I got myself in to this. And really, I have it pretty good. My husband is unbelievably supportive, as is my work. My boss goes running with me usually at least once a week during lunch. I have no children to take care of. I can't even imagine trying to do this with kids. As it is, I can pretty much work my life around my workouts without having to give up too much, and at this point, it's finally starting to seem real.
Oh, and on a completely different note, I placed 2nd in my age group at the Physical Therapy Plus Olympic distance Triathlon last month. (Once again, that seems much more impressive if you don't know there were only 3 people in my age group) No pictures as my trusty photographer was in Pennsylvania at the time.
