Winter Treasures

Winter provides our world a blanket of snow, full of penetrating, quiet peacefulness.  If you listen hard enough, you can hear the snowflakes sigh in relief as they land safely at our feet.  As the sun lowers and gives way to frosty temperatures, previously hidden particles appear in midair, dancing in the brightening moonlight and enjoying some momentary attention.  The solace of winter can provide restful recovery for the seasons that lay ahead.

Discovering Cross Country Skiing

I finally followed through and tried classic cross country skiing up at the cabin and absolutely loved it.  I was the only person out on the freshly covered trails and found that very enjoyable.  I pushed my way through eighteen inches of untouched powder and felt like I was gliding on clouds.  I am so thankful that I didn't wait any longer to give it a try.  I am sure I will enjoy many years of this peaceful, yet challenging sport.  Now I need to work on recruiting friends willing to come up and enjoy the trails with me.  Any takers? 

Life without a cell phone

As nurses, sometimes patients will ask us to help them with their cell phone.  Most nurses are easily able to help, as their fingers know exactly what to do.  When I am asked this, my ability to help is handicapped.  You see, I am one of the few remaining humans who has never owned a cell phone.  Yes, I know....many wonder how living is even possible without such device.  Let me assure you that life goes on, usually in a slower, more attentive and focused pace.

My exchange with fellow humans as they learn I don't have a cell has been memorable.  There is always a stunned look and momentary word-finding issues, followed quickly by either admiration of being free from the rings, buzzes, beeps and Chewbacca growls or by continued silence and shaking of their head. 

My observation of what cell phones have done with our world is a bit comical..

• The incidents of person vs. pole/hole/curb/fellow texters have increased, providing a great source of entertainment for those lucky enough to witness such encounters
• Butt calls have made public some rather questionable singers
• The level of panic when one has been misplaced is amusingly disproportionate
• If one is momentarily separated from its owner, potential mischief is limitless
• Ect, ect, ect

On a more serious note, I wonder if excessive time spent with our devices may be creating unexpected opportunities for regret.  I believe they do because I own a tablet and know how it can suck up my attention. 

It may be productive to consider and compare the time spent on our devices with time spent physically interacting with those who will eventually be taken away from us.  It is human nature to take for granted face-to-face interactions with our loved ones, including pets, and our ability to engage in rewarding hobbies.  I am reminded regularly that any or all of these could be taken away at any given moment, and I try to consistently review how I spend my time and adjust my priorities as needed.

Cell phones and other devices have the potential to be both a blessing and a curse.  Consider whether we are in control of them or they are in control of us.

Cabin Sledding Memories

There is something about sledding at the cabin; it brings out the child in those who have the courage to try it.  Just ask those who have been brave enough....


Me on the first ever sledding run at the cabin.  This sled gave many great rides and has since been retired. 

My mom gave our trail a try and laughed the whole way down, never loosening her death grip on the sled!

 

Cathy preparing to brave the steep cabin driveway.  Sparkle and I followed close behind, to hear her laugh and scream.

Cathy used the trees to stop her tube, which always brings about serious laughter.  Sparkle was right there to help, if needed.

We quickly headed back for more!

Soon thereafter, Cathy advanced from the slow, safe tube to the speedy, demon sled

Our Master Tracksman, Tom, giving his work a test run.



Tom, Natalie and I being brave in the lights after dark.  We ended up using the trees to stop ourselves and our laughter literally filled the night skies.

Me delivering the snow shovel to our Master Tracksman, Tom.

Natalie in the morning hours, tubing an ice slicked track.  There may have been a few screams involved with this one.

Our New Years Crew, working on a new trail through the aspens. 



I saved the best for last: Elizabeth laying her life on the line as she conquers the trail we now call "The Waterfall".

My First Ironman

This is my detailed race report of my first Ironman race back in November 2008. 

I am an Ironman!  I finished my first Ironman and did it in the best possible imagined time.  I will try to capture my incredible experience in words, but I doubt it will accurately represent what being there is really like.  It was amazing!  My brother Greg, my friend Natalie and I all finished and are happy with what we were able to accomplish.  I crossed the line first, Natalie followed about one hour afterwards and then Greg got to finish his day over two hours after I did.  We did it!

As we arrived in Tempe, I noticed the swim buoys on the course and felt chills make their way throughout my body.  Tears filled my eyes under my sunglasses and I realized that I was looking at the water where I would be swimming very soon.  My chills quickly turned to a dreaded feeling and I had to look away.  The swim is the unknown for me and I didn’t want to deal with it yet.

We made our way to Tempe Beach Parke and there was definitely an Ironman feeling as we saw athletes getting their tri-bikes from the shipping area and so many of them were in incredible shape.  Wow!

We checked in and it was confirmed that I was actually registered for this Ironman.  It was not just a dream, it was reality.  I got my race number (2394), race packet, wristband, ankle chip strap, they weighed me and then we were on our way to look around.  

It was cool to see the transition areas being built; we wondered what direction we would be routed from the swim to the bike and so forth.  I walked to the water and the buoys were very humbling.  I knew the swim would take courage for me, but I also KNEW that I would be able to do it.  I didn’t allow my thoughts to go much farther than that, because it would not be good.  People may have been talking to me, but I was very quiet, within myself and my thoughts, as I took in that swim course

 

We met up with our family who made the eleven+ hour drive to be there with us.  We picked up dinner and made our way to the house we rented.  Our family was so happy to be done driving, an eleven hour drive is a LONG one, especially with two Labradors!  It was nice to all be at our destination.

There was only one problem during our entire Ironman experience and that was the house we had rented did not have a very clean feeling within it.  None of us felt very comfortable in it, but we tried to be OK with it.  We  should have known something was wrong when our nine year old, well behaved Labrador pooped in the middle of one of the rooms in the house as we were walking them around.  That house wasn’t where we wanted to be and, after talking about it that evening and pondering it all night long (none of us really slept), we decided to put our backup plan into action.  Our number one event planner and mobile hostess, Brenda, took care of everything and we changed locations to a wonderfully clean and comfortable Residence Inn.  This is what we should have done all along. 

We met the next morning for a practice swim.  We ate at Einstein’s Bagel and then headed to Tempe Beach Park.  We got into our wetsuits on a chilly morning.  Volunteers were there to watch our bags while we swam, so we left our stuff and made our way to the stairs leading into the water.  OH MY!!!  Natalie got right in, Greg fell in because he thought there was another step, and I cautiously let myself down into that water and did my best to stay positive.  The water was cold, but I got used to it quickly; the water temp was 63 degrees, which is the warmest open water I had swam in.

The practice swim was just OK for me.  My goggles were hard to see out of and the wind was creating a current that we had to swim against.  Waves slapped me in the face and tossed me around, which I didn’t like at all.  We stayed together and swam to incremental, short landmarks.  I tried to find a happy mental place to go to while in the water, but it wasn’t happening for me.  I was ready to head back and get out of the water.  We made our way to the stairs and got ourselves out of the water.  Unfortunately, I didn’t feel much better after our practice swim. 

We decided to drive the bike course, so we all packed into the car and headed out to see what we were in for.  It looked like I thought it would, mostly flat except for the definite incline for three miles before the turnaround.  It looked like a great course, if the winds would keep to a minimum on race day; wind could really affect our ride.

It was time to pack our transition bags, which made me a bit nervous; I didn’t want to forget anything.  I needed to trust my experience and get things done, which is what I did. 

 

We loaded up the car with our gear and headed down to the transition areas.  We dropped everything off at its appropriate spot; things were so organized and easy to figure out.  We walked the transitions (swim to bike and bike to run) so we would know where to go, even though there would be plenty of volunteers directing us on race day. 

Our family and friends figured out where they would station themselves during the different sections of the day.  Brenda was a lifesaver for everyone who made the trip to Arizona to watch us.  She really knows how to organize and prepare for things like this and handles all the challenges with a smile. 

The night before the Ironman had finally arrived and I was smack-dab in the middle of it. A group of us went to the Fox Sports Den in Scottsdale to watch a football game.  It was wonderful to do something totally separate from Ironman; everything was done and all we could do was wait for race morning to arrive. 

I set my alarm for 4:20 a.m. and wondered how much sleep I would get.  I was ready for whatever laid ahead ; it was time to get this thing on the road.

Before I knew it, I looked at the clock and it was 3:45 a.m.  Yeah, I did get some sleep the night before my event.  I put some warmer clothes on and walked to the hotel lobby to get some breakfast.  They had brown bags for the athletes with a bagel, apple, water, and Nutrigrain bar in them.  I ate the bagel and drank the water, but that was all I could get down; it was very early in the morning and my stomach knew it.

I reviewed some last minute advice from my numerous Ironman books while I waited for everyone to gather their things.  I knew was as ready as I would ever be and I was happy when we headed out for the day.  We parked in the structure reserved for athletes.  There was a convergence of vehicles with Ironman-want-to-be’s in them and we slowly wound our way up to find a parking spot.  We parked, locked the doors and I realized the next time I got in that vehicle would be after I crossed the Ironman finish line.  I took a deep breath and then we were on our way. 

I needed to put some things on my bike and in my bag, so Greg and I showed our wristbands to get past the security into the transition area; they were great about not letting anyone in except athletes.  Everything was laid out so organized and it was cool to see 2,197 transition bags laid in perfectly straight lines.  This now felt like the real deal! 
 

Greg and I headed to get our numbers and ages written on our arms and calf and then left the transition area to find our parents and family.  We found them conveniently next to the restroom, which was useful.  We hung with them for a bit and then I meandered away for some alone time.  I tried to gather my thoughts, but quickly realized that I was ready to put my wetsuit on and get this “game on the road”.  I heard the announcer say that athletes should be making their way to the swim entrance within ten minutes, so I headed back to Greg and told him it was time to put on our wetsuits.  We got ready with our family watching.  I methodically made my way into that wetsuit, which had only a few months earlier been a source of panic.  I had come a long way since that first cold morning swim in June, I was getting ready to begin my own Ironman experience. 

It was time to give hugs and head our separate ways.  Our Ironman experience was really starting.

Greg and I squeezed through the hundreds of spectators packed along the fencing and made our way into the transition area.  I was aware of only Greg and myself, but I knew there were hundreds of athletes who must be feeling the same way I was.  We dropped off our dry clothes bags and by then the announcer was already well into his inspiring monologue.  We found ourselves surrounded by hundreds of athletes who looked exactly like us, wearing wetsuits and either blue or pink swim caps.  The energy was palpable; nerves were out of control; we were slowly being drawn towards the Ironman Swim archway.  There were a few smiles, but mostly we were looking forward preparing for what lay ahead.  Greg was rubbing his arms and trying to loosen up, while I was mentally trying to prepare to jump into Tempe Town Lake.  I don’t know how many times I hugged Greg with either full hugs or half hugs.  At one point I threw my arms around him and was so relieved he was there with me.  He knew this was my hard part and did his best to give me confidence, even thought he was nervous in his own way. 

We were still inside the transition area when the cannon sounded for the professionals to start.  We had ten minutes before we would be doing the same thing.  We continued moving slowly forward and soon thereafter we walked across the timing matt, listening to the constant beep of athlete’s timing chips crossing it.  Greg said, “Oh, there goes my chip” which lightened the moment.  We were now officially accounted for in our Arizona Ironman adventure. 

 

Everyone was moving forward at a slow, constant pace, as if we were being drawn towards the water unknowingly.  We went through the swim arch and there was still quite a ways to walk to reach the water.  I looked at my watch and saw 6:52.  We had eight minutes before the cannon would sound for us.  We had to get into the water and there wasn't time to wait for the narrow walkway.  Athletes started to climb over the railing and make their way over some 2x4 framing along the water and then jump in from there.  This is where Greg and I needed to enter the water.  Greg turned to me and said this one was for both of us.  I felt tears welling up in my eyes and quickly gathered myself, as it would not be good to start the day with moisture inside my goggles. 

Before I knew it, Greg was climbing over the railing and then he turned to make sure I could safely do the same.  I watched Greg balance out to the water and jump in and then I did the same.  There was little thought process involved; I just did it.  Whew, the first hard thing could be checked off my mental list.  I was in Tempe Town Lake, surrounded by hundreds of athletes who must have been feeling the same way I was.

We headed towards the start together and then Greg disappeared into the mix of swim caps and I was on my own.  The Star Spangled Banner was playing as I swam under the bridges and after that it was a matter of waiting.  I looked around and saw many mirror images of what I was feeling on the faces of those around me.  The water was cool, but I was getting used to it.  I looked up at those on the bridge cheering us on and recognized that a long day was awaiting us all, both spectators and athletes. 
 

SWIM:  I listened to the announcer, Mike Riley, and heard him say, “I have one last thing to say to you athletes out there.  By the end of today, you WILL be an Ironman!”  Then, before I could become emotional about the moment, BOOM, the cannon went off.  The spectators went crazy and we slowly started swimming forward.  I swam quite a few strokes with my head out of the water before I tried to get into my normal stroke, but it did eventually happen.
 

The swim was exactly like I thought it would be.  There were swimmers surrounding me.  A stroke would not happen without either being hit or kicked by someone or hitting or kicking someone else.  I expected this to happen and was able to swim through it, but there were times I had to stop because I hit someone and got out of rhythm.  I figured out how to adjust my direction depending upon what part of a person I was touching with my stroke.  I anticipated contact with every stroke until I swam a few strokes without hitting anyone.  It felt great, but I knew it would not last.  Sometimes I was next to an athlete, swimming the same pace and found myself focusing on them.  It was a nice distraction, but never lasted long.
 

I did not look up very often because I could see we were going in the same direction and that was enough for the first while.  I stayed to the buoy side of the course, but I could still see spectators along the side as I took breaths.  It was a great thought to know I was actually swimming the swim I had been preparing many months for.  It was the real thing and I was going to finish it!

At one point I heard someone talking and looked to my left to see a volunteer in a kayak telling a group of us to “go to the right”.  I figured this meant I had reached the point of the course that it ever-so-slightly curved to the right.  I was making progress.  I saw I was closer to the bridge where we would turn around.  I kept my eye on that bridge which, in hindsight, made it seem to take forever to get there.  I could see a few spectators on that bridge, but not nearly the amount that had been on the bridge near the start.  As I swam under it, I felt relief that I was making progress.

I looked up to see the course and saw the big red buoy and it seemed further away than I had expected.  I was on a good line and could not wait to be able to turn around.  When I finally reached it, I was disappointed to see there was another red buoy to the north that we needed to swim to before we actually turned around. I had mistakenly thought I would be able to turn around at that first red buoy.  At least we were relatively spread out at this point, so I could head directly towards the buoy without fighting many swimmers.

It felt great to swim around that second red buoy and know I was headed back.  When I was clear of the turn point, I took time to look at my watch and I was shocked to see 38 minutes.  I couldn’t keep mental focus to calculate what time that would give me at the finish, but I knew it was a great time for me at that point.

I kept a pretty straight line near the buoys which made me happy.  I got in quite a rhythm and was able to switch and breathe every third stroke, which allowed me to take a breath on different sides.  I don’t know how long it lasted, but it was nice while I had it.  It felt like I was at the pool, focusing on keeping my head down, long strokes and rotating.  I looked at volunteers on surfboards, kayaks and other watercrafts as I swam by.  This was a nice time of the swim, until I either hit or was hit by someone and my relaxed rhythm was gone – damn. 

I spent the remainder of the swim near people.  I paused once and when I kicked my legs to start going again I kicked someone pretty hard and hoped it wasn’t someone’s head.  At one point there was an athlete right next to me who was not swimming straight.  He would veer into me and then away from me.  I tried to speed up and swim away, but it didn’t work.  Now, looking back at that, it was probably me veering and I was probably bugging him.  Thankfully we separated and I was aware the end was getting closer.

I made my final turn around the last red buoy and headed down the homestretch.  I couldn’t wait to get on my bike and have a moment of relief.  I was really going to finish the swim.  I wondered how far ahead both Natalie and Greg were. 

 

I swam to the stairs and graciously accepted help from the volunteer leaning down to assist me out of the water.  My feet found the stairs and I happily made my way safely out of the water.  I briefly paused at the top of the stairs to lap my watch and a volunteer was immediately at my side, asking if I was OK.  I said yes and proceeded forward.

SWIM TIME: 1:26:42 (my goal was 1:45)

I saw the wetsuit strippers ahead and hoped I could have a smooth experience with them.  I was already unzipped with one arm partially out when a volunteer appeared to help me.  We got my other arm out and I sat on the ground and in one pull my wetsuit was off and I was on my way.  It felt awesome to be free from my constricting whale suit.  My feet were partially numb, but were warming quickly.  They were going to be alright, unlike my previous cold swim experience.

I made my way along the carpet path and before I knew it I heard my name being yelled and looked to see my family in their neon green shirts.  It was wonderful to see them.  I continued to the transition area and right before I turned to get my bag I saw another large group of green shirted family members cheering wildly for me.  I waved to them and felt a huge smile explode from my face.  I continued on and got my bag from a volunteer who was holding it up for me.  They were so helpful and this was only the beginning. 

I headed towards the change tent, went in and found an empty chair and sat down.  Almost immediately a volunteer asked if she could help.  I said yes and she asked if she could empty my bag.  After the contents were on the ground, she handed me my towel and I started drying my feet.  She proceed to put on my race belt, handed me my V8 and set my socks on my knees to be put on.  She loosened my shoes, put my food in my pockets and took care of each item in my bag.  She helped me put on my arm warmers, which wasn't easy because of wet arms.  She was obviously a triathlete herself and knew how to help me in the best way possible.  She was awesome.  Before I knew it I was dressed, with my helmet on and headed out the tent.  She wished me a great race and I very sincerely thanked her.   I didn’t have to think of anything during my transition, she literally took care of that for me. 

I jogged towards my bike and a new volunteer was right there, reading my bib number and finding the right isle for me.  She ran with me to my bike and made sure I had everything I needed.  I have no doubt if I had forgotten something, or needed some help she would have taken care of me.  The help from the volunteers throughout the day was incredible.

I jogged with my bike towards the exit and noticed that Greg’s bike was still on the rack.  I figured he was taking it slow during transition, since he got dizzy during most swims.  I crossed under the bike archway and happily got on my bike.

BIKE:  We rode for a time through tight fencing surrounded by spectators; I took it as slow as I could, but my legs really wanted to get going.  I passed another group of crazed, green-shirted family members cheering wildly along this short section.  It was so invigorating to see them and know they were there to cheer me along during my adventure.  I was on the road and felt great. 
 

The first loop of the bike went by fairly quickly.  When I got out of the populated area, there was a definite headwind that stayed until I turned around and it became a great tailwind.  I enjoyed the ride back.  I passed the first aid station at five miles and saw there were no lines at the port-a-potties.  I decided to stop and take advantage of that.  It was a quick pit stop and then I was on my way.  I settled into my bike and found myself passing quite a few people and also being passed by some nice bikes.  During one of my passes, I heard someone yell “Hey” and so I glanced back and saw I had passed Natalie.  I waved to her and continued on my way.  I was feeling good. 

I was happy to see Greg on the way up his loop as I was finishing mine.  I saw him too late to say anything, but at least I knew he was on his bike and he looked good and strong when I saw him.  I later found out he was worried that I hadn't finished the swim because he never saw me on the first loop of the bike.  I saw him for the second time and was able to get his attention.  He told me later that he was relieved to see me.  He was being my big, younger brother at that time.  I am so proud of what he has accomplished. 

There were some fast cyclists on intense bikes and it was fun to be riding on the same course with them.  The first and second place professional men both passed me as I was ending my first loop.  Their wheels were loud as they passed and I was glad I wasn’t in their way at that point.  I heard the announcer talking about them as I made my U-turn. 

Greg's wife had positioned herself with her parents and family further into the bike course on the opposite side.  The first time I saw them I noticed a small group of people wearing green shirts, but I couldn’t tell if they were my peeps because I didn’t recognize them.  As I got closer I looked intently at them and one of them in a hat and sunglasses looked right at me and thankfully started yelling “Go Andi!!!”  I realized it was Gina and her family, whom I didn’t know.  I waved and smiled with them.  Each time I reached that place, I watched for green shirts on people I didn’t know and waved to them.  They were the first greenies I would reach as I completed each loop.

 

I was always happy to see my peeps and looked forward to turning around so I could ride by them, smiling and enjoying their energy.  They knew what my goals were for each lap and each time I made my goal, I knew they would be happy with me.  What could be better than that?

The aid stations were well organized.  The volunteers functioned like pit crews with their Gatorade, water, bananas, gels and bars.  There was never a question about what they had and it was always easy for me to maneuver around to get what I needed. 

As I was headed out on my second loop, I could see my family all leaning out looking to where I had just come.  They were not going to see me if they all stayed like that.  I saw my brother turn his head my way and started waving my arm wildly above my head.  He recognized it was me and I heard him say, “Here she is”, and everyone turned around as I was literally right in front of them.  I waved and continued on my way.  A short way up the course, I saw Brenda and her sisters and niece.  They were cheering me on.  I smiled and was happy they had seen me coming.

About half way up the second loop, I came across a cyclist, Megan, who passed me and then kind of slowed up.  I passed her and we spent the next ten miles passing and re-passing each other.  I think I spent most of the time ahead of her, but that didn’t really matter because we were never drafting off each other.  When I was coming down that loop someone to my side said, “Andi, you are a strong cyclist”.  I looked up and saw it was Megan.  I said, “So are you, Megan”.  She was ahead of me for a bit and then I passed her.  We talked while we were side by side and found out we were both on our second loop and both needed to take a pit stop soon.  I think she stopped at the special needs place and that was the last time I saw her.  

I was excited to start my last loop and was happy that my family knew I was coming this time.  I smiled as I passed by them and held up my finger to represent that had only one lap left.  They were once again loud and energetic.  I was ready to give this lap my best.  I had met my previous lap goals and I was encouraged I would do the same on this lap and off I went.

I scrolled through the data on my computer a few times and saw at five hours of riding I had ridden over 90 miles.  This was a good, strong pace for me without being able to draft.  I was doing as good as I possibly could, just as I had visualized.

During my ride I ate a slice of cinnamon bread, which I had taped to my bike to eat after the swim, two Luna bars, two coffee gels, three or four bananas, one chocolate gel, one elete shot and who knows how many bottles of orange Gatorade and water.  As the day got warmer, I emptied the remainder of my water bottle over my head and arms as I prepared to get a replacement water bottle.  No reason to waste anything that might help cool me down. 

My goal was to average 18-20 miles per hour and finish in six hours.  My slowest speed was 13 mph, while we were climbing against the headwind, and my max speed was 30 mph, on the way down with a tailwind.  I averaged 18.49 mph on my first loop.  The wind shifted throughout the day, which influenced different speeds at different parts of the loops.  My overall average was 18.6 mph.  By my third loop, the wind had shifted so it seemed we had more of a tail-breeze on the way up and a headwind on the way back.  My third loop average was my best, 19.0 mph. 

I maneuvered my way through all the turns for the last time on my bike, waved to Gina and friends as I passed them, and was happy to be able to ride straight into the transition zone instead of turning to make another lap.  It was nice to slow down and cautiously make my way through the “no passing zone” and prepare to get off my bike.  There were more crazy green shirted fans screaming for me as I dismounted my bike and was off to get my bike to run bag.  They were great and so encouraging to see and hear along the way.  They made me smile even bigger than I already was.  I love those guys!

BIKE 6:00:40 – my goal was 6:00 hours

I got off my bike, let the volunteer take it and made my way to the change tent.  My legs felt secure under me, which was nice.  Once again a volunteer found my bag and had it ready for me.  I headed to the tent and a volunteer teamed up with me to help me through the process.  The volunteers were wonderful!  I headed out to start my marathon. 

I saw my family along the fencing immediately after crossing the timing matt.  It was great to see them.  They were all smiling and all I wanted to do was give them high fives.  I was starting the last sport of my Ironman and felt pretty good.  I remembered not to eat or drink anything the last 20 minutes or so of the bike, because I didn’t want things sloshing around in my stomach.  It was currently working.  My feet felt as I thought they would, their usual soreness after a long bike ride. 

My plan was to walk every aid station, no matter how good I felt, and walk big hills because it wasn’t worth the energy to have my heart rate shoot up and then try to get it down.  I also wanted to take things one mile at a time, to break up the marathon into short, more attainable goals. 

 

I walked through the first aid station, but I didn’t eat or drink anything.  It was too early for that.  The volunteers offered me a sponge, which I squeezed over my head and then got a glass of ice water and also poured it over my head.  An older man was near the place I did this and he smiled at me and said to remember how it felt to jump in the water earlier that morning.  I smiled at him and said that glass of water was cold.  He said something encouraging to me and I was off running again.

I immediately noticed that I could not keep my heart rate under 90% of my maximum.  I was running a comfortable pace; it seemed a little fast, but it felt like the right pace for my legs - they wanted to go that fast.  I decided to be smart and walked for a couple of minutes to get my heart rate down, then started running again.  It shot right back up, so I ran for a while and tried to make adjustments to my cadence or pace to get it under 87%, but it wasn’t working.  I walked a few times during those first few miles, trying to get my heart rate under control.  Thankfully, I gained control, after one of my aid station walks, and I didn’t have more problems with it afterwards.  That was a learning experience

Just after the first aid station, I noticed my stomach felt sore.  It felt like muscle soreness, but also a bit of stomach upset on its way to feeling nauseous.  This was a new feeling for me.  I thought carefully about what might be happening and decided to be careful about the types of food I ate.  I kept tabs on it, but decided to maintain my original plan at that point. 

I saw the one mile marker and was so happy to pass it and leave it in the dust.  I had found my running legs by then, but I was aware of my stomach discomfort.  My feet had their normal pain and I was OK with how things were going at that first mile marker.

As I approached the second aid station, a volunteer walked quickly alongside me saying how great I looked and that I had a perfect pace.  He said to keep it up and be sure and get some food at the stop.  I appreciated his direct interaction with me, but was kind of surprised by it.  It made me wonder if he thought I was somebody else, but the sun was still up and I looked like myself.  I got something to drink and ate a banana, but I was aware of how my stomach was feeling and still trying to figure out what to eat.

After that aid station we turned north and crossed a bridge.  The view was not pretty at all.  The “lake” had been dammed before the bridge, so the bed was dry and full of weeds.  I was always happy to be done crossing that bridge.  I found my fast pace, which was still amazing because it felt comfortable.  My head would not let me slow down my legs, which was odd for me.

After a long, yucky section, we turned uphill and into a parking area.  It was here where we crossed matt and any written message our family had left us would scroll through on a big screen.  I got a message the first time that read, “A. Jones #2394 – You are awesome!”  It was fun to see a message with my name associated with it. 

After the motivational mile, we ran under a structure that led to Mill Avenue Bridge, headed back to the Hot Zone.  This bridge was great to run across.  There were always spectators along it calling us by name and cheering loudly.  One group was there for each of my three loops.  They had chairs, umbrellas, coolers and they were great cheerers.  I looked forward to running by them each loop.

After crossing the bridge, we made a gradual U-turn and ran the transition area.  It was nice to run on grass for a little while.  My first time at this point, I felt my right quad try to cramp up, but I immediately had a stern chat with it and reminded it that cramping was not appropriate and would not be tolerated.  This was a mind over matter moment during my day.

At the bottom of the grassy trail , I saw my dad with his camera.  It was great to see him; I waved and smiled.  He was alone and I wanted to stop and give him a hug to thank him for his support, but I knew I should keep running. 

I turned the corner and immediately, right under the bridge, was my big group of greenies, cheering wildly for me.  They were absolutely awesome!  I smiled and gave high five’s.  It was definitely easier to see individual faces during the run, which was nice.  On the bike I was going too fast to focus on who was cheering for me, but the run was different and I enjoyed that part.

I had completed just over one third of my first loop and I was doing well.  My only constant aggravation was my stomach, which apparently was not going to go away.  I made my way out of the Hot Zone and ran on some grassy sections along the paved walkway. 

We made our way to a footpath along the “lake”, which I would rather call a canal, and ran along some undeveloped area there.  There was a sign along the canal advising people to enter at their own risk, which I understood to include the "lake".  YUCK!!

We made a turn through a parking lot and onto another footpath that wandered through some trees and picnic tables.  There was an aid station at the end of this area and I stopped there on my first loop to use the restroom for the first time on the run.  My stomach was more aggravated and I thought this might help.  The pain I felt was very unfamiliar, a constant dull ache that seemed to be more muscle pain than intestinal pain.  I felt it with every running step I took.  It seemed to be relieved a little bit when I walked, so I enjoyed the aid station walks for that reason alone.  I settled on the theory that my blood supply had been shunted to my muscles for such a long time that now my stomach was feeling the effects of that.  I hoped it would keep working and get some nutrients from the constant food I was feeding it until I could cross the finish line.  I felt good about keeping with my plan. 

After this aid station we made a left turn and headed west, up the steepest part of the loop.  It was probably about 300 feet uphill which then flattened for a while and then turned downhill, under the Mill Avenue bridge, where another aid station was located.  After that we headed back towards the Rural bridge and we ran along a nice, flat footpath with grass on the side.  I think these occasional grassy sections helped prevent any major foot problems for me.

Right before we made our way back onto the Rural bridge, there was a fun aid station with a western theme.  There was music playing loudly and the volunteers were all dressed up; it was full of energy.  I enjoyed walking through this aid station.

We made our way across the bridge and there were never any spectators on this one, just lots of athletes going both directions.  Then we headed towards the homebase for most of the spectators.  It was cooler by the water, which was a relief when it was hot during my first and second loops, but a bit too cool on my third loop because the sun had set by then.

It was a straight shot to the hot zone and I always anticipated seeing my greenies cheering for me.  I loved giving everyone high fives and seeing them smile, as well as giving them my smile so they knew that things were going just groovy for me.  They were always so energizing.  I could not imagine doing this without having loved ones with me to cheer me on.  The other spectators were great, because they would read my name off my bib number and cheer me on, but it was always stronger and more real when it was my family and friends shouting cheers of encouragement.

I saw mile 8 and knew I was making great time on the course.  Thankfully, the course was marked very well with directional and mile marker information.  I looked forward to those signs on the side of the road telling me how far I had gone.  I saw the sign for mile 16, during my first loop, and  wanted that number to apply to me; instead, I had to run by it knowing it would apply to me sometime soon.  I kept a positive mental attitude during my first loop, which was easy with the new scenery.  I was glad the sun was still up and I figured I may be able to also complete most of my second loop in the daylight.

Before I knew it ,I was approaching the completion of my first loop.  As I passed the running archway, someone told me that Greg was getting ready to come out of the transition area to start his run.  I considered slowing down to run with him for a while, but my legs quickly gave me their answer when they kept going forward.  I knew he might catch me during his first loop, if he was feeling good, because we sometimes run a similar pace.  He never caught me, so I made the right decision to keep going.  I needed to give this Ironman my best shot and I knew Greg would understand; after all, I would want Greg to do the same thing if the situation was reversed.

I started my second loop and was quite impressed with the pace I was able to maintain during my first loop.  My thoughts wandered towards giving myself permission to slow down because I would still be able to finish with a very respectable time, even if I started walking more.  I immediately remembered some advice I read about never giving up on your goals, especially your goals during the marathon.  I had worked and trained to have a chance to reach my goals and to change the rules/parameters of what was acceptable at this point would be giving in.  Unless there was a medical necessity to revise my goal, I wanted to strive for my plan every step along the way.  I grabbed hold of that thought and didn’t let go for the remainder of the run.  It was exactly what I needed to focus on at that point of my day.  I knew there was a reason I read all the Ironman material I did, and it really did contribute to my ability to finish strong.

I noticed something new during the aid stations at this point.  A volunteer would walk with me as I approached the station and ask me specifically “What can I get for you?”.  This was a bit confusing at first, but I asked for a banana and sure enough, while I was drinking my water, they were getting me a banana and then I was able to go on my way.  I think this was a way to make sure each athlete got something to eat, especially those who were walking through the aid stations, which was always me.  I thoroughly appreciated every little thing each volunteer did for me.  I have never seen an event with such support from its volunteers.  They owned this as if they were helping their own family member.  It was truly inspiring.

My stomach still hurt and my regular foot pain would occasionally scream out for some attention, so I would instinctively say “Ouch” out loud and continue running until it went away.  I was most definitely looking forward to being done, but I was able to focus on one mile at a time, instead of looking at the daunting task still ahead of me.  It was the only way to conquer this giant, one small bite at a time.

I had been passing and being passed by the same athlete for quite a while.  I couldn’t decide if it was bugging me or if I liked it.  During my walk up the big steep hill, someone said something to me.  I looked to my side and it was this athlete.  He told me I was just like his wife, I never stopped going.   We were the tortoise and the hare, I was the tortoise.  We talked for a bit and then his pace was quicker than mine so he went ahead.  I passed him again on the run downhill and said, “Here comes the tortoise passing the hare”.  He said he was used to it because of his wife.  It was a nice distraction for both of us.  He passed me for the last time during my third loop and I never saw him again.

I was very aware of where the sun was located during my first two loops.  It was so pretty as it was lowering on the horizon.  I wondered if I would be able to watch it set and I ended up being in the best place possible as it lowered out of sight.  It was really beautiful and I am glad I took a moment to enjoy it.

At the aid station under the Mill Avenue bridge during my second loop, I decided to try eating a cookie and Oh my, it tasted like it had been delivered from heaven.  After that I looked forward to eating a cookie or two at every other aid station.  I had to be careful with my stomach, so I thought it would be better to space the cookies over two aid stations.  It worked out nicely.  I also heard about the heavenly chicken broth and gave it a try during my second loop.  At the time I drank it, it was still warm outside, so I didn’t particularly like the warm beverage.  But, after the sun set, it was easier to drink the warm broth as the temperatures quickly cooled. 

It was a relief to start my third loop and notice the sign directing finishers to go left and the 1^st, 2^nd and 3^rd loopers to go right.  I smiled a big smile inside because I knew the next time I was at that spot I would go left, towards the finish.  I got a glow stick to run with because it was getting dark. I wore it around my neck during my last loop, it felt good to know I would be seen.

During my last lap I gave myself permission to walk as often as I wanted to, mostly because of how much my stomach was hurting.  I ended up running more than I wanted  because I needed to be done as soon as possible.  

 

Around mile 17, a sensation of light headedness came over me and caught me off guard.  I slowed and took some deep breaths as I further realized how much stress I was putting on my entire self.  The lightheadedness went away, but did come back a few times during that last loop.  I ate some grapes to get some immediate sugar to my head, but I knew the best thing I could do was slow down and get some oxygen to my head.  The feeling never progressed beyond being light headed, no tunnel vision or seeing stars or narrowing field of vision.  I was already glad I was on my last loop, and this just deepened and intensified that gladness.

Over the course of the marathon, I alternated between water and Gatorade during the first half and then water and chicken broth for the last half.  I never had any cola, it didn’t sound good.  I ate a mixture of bananas, grapes, cookies and tried pretzels once, but they were too dry in my mouth.  I had two Elete shots, which I am sure helped avoid muscle cramps.   

I made my way around that last loop by alternating between walking and running.  I stopped at a port-a-potty to see if it would help my stomach, but still no relief.  I just continued taking steps forward.  As I neared the packed spectator area, I thought I would be able to keep running, but even then I had to walk some.  Once I was able to start running again, I didn’t want to stop until I crossed the finish line.  I finally got my engine going again and could not wait until I saw the turn for the finishers.  I made it there and veered to my left.  I am sure I was beaming with happiness. 

There were people lining both sides of the pathway and someone was shouting to just keep going, that I only had 300 meters left.  I carefully made my way along the route and checked behind me to see if anyone was close behind me.  I wanted to be alone for my finish moment, so I slowed up to let some space get between me and the athletes ahead of me.  I could hear the people at the finish area going crazy.  They were so loud!  I made my last left turn and was in the finish chute.  I heard my name over the loud speaker and then I heard Salt Lake City, but I never heard the phrase that I was an Ironman.  I was being carried towards the finish line and all I felt was relief.  I had made it.  I heard my family on my left, but once my eyes caught sight of the finish arch they didn’t leave that wonderful sight.  The lights were bright, the fans were incredibly loud and there was a finish banner waiting especially for me.  I lifted my arms into the air and ran across that finish line.  It was finally alright to stop running and my body was surely ready for it, more than I knew it was. 

 

After crossing the line, I noticed a volunteer on each side of me, wrapping a foil blanket around me as they were congratulating me.  One of them asked how I was feeling, I told her I thought I was doing pretty good.  She didn’t loosen her support around me one bit.  She led me to get my medal, finisher shirt and hat.  A volunteer put my medal over my head and then we turned towards a crazed cheering group on the side.  It was my greenies and they looked so happy.  The photographer was right there and asked if I wanted a photo with my mom and I said yes.  My volunteer let me take the photo, but was quickly back at my side.  After a few seconds, she said I seemed to be doing well and relinquished care to my family and friends.  There were hugs from everyone as I left the finish area and entered the spectator zone.  It was wonderful to be done and be able to be with everyone who had been spending the day with me.  What an experience for us all.  It is a memory that will last forever.

I made my way to the chair my family had set out for me and very cautiously sat down, I knew  it would not be easy to stand up again.  After a bit, I thought I should see if any food looked good, so I stood up slowly and made my way into the “pizza and fries” tent.  The only thing that looked good was a water.  I had no idea how anyone could eat pizza after doing what we had done.

I knew it would be better for me to walk around and my legs felt like they could do that.  I walked to get my dry clothes bag, inside the bike area.  I took my time putting on my warmer clothes that I had been wearing earlier that morning.  It felt peaceful to be alone and not moving for a minute.  I tried to take in the feeling of what I had accomplished that day.  As other athletes walked by me, I congratulated them and they returned the gesture.  It felt great to be done.

I realized Natalie could be close to finishing, so I waddled back to the finish area and made it just in time to see her cross the finish line.  She made her way out of the chute and we all gave her hugs.  It was fun to know that she did so much better than her first Ironman two years ago.  Now we just had to wait for Greg.

I could feel I needed to walk around so I asked Brenda to tag along.  We walked towards the athlete’s changing tent again, to get away from the crowds, and Brenda figured that Greg might be coming by the course right around the corner.  We walked towards the path and, sure enough, there was Greg walking quickly down the pathway.  It was wonderful to see him for the first time since my second lap on the bike.  We cheered for him as the only people in that area.  I could tell he was ready to be done, it was written all over his face.  I was happy to be reminded I was done and I knew soon enough, he would also be able to stop moving forward.

We walked and found a place on the front row of the bleachers, and stood and cheered for those who were finishing.  It was awesome.  We held out our hands for athletes to give us five as they passed.  I enjoyed hearing Mike Reily tell every athlete that they were an Ironman.  It was awesome to be feeling good enough physically to be able to spend that time at the finish line cheering for my fellow Arizona Ironman finishers!

 

We anxiously awaited Greg’s arrival.  Some of our family were with Greg's daughter, Cassie, at the “family finishing pen” waiting for him so she could run down the finisher’s chute with her dad.  This was the last year that family members were allowed to cross the finish with their loved ones.  This would be so cool for Cassie and Greg.  Someone told us that Greg was close and shortly afterwards he rounded the corner, holding Cassie’s hand, both running towards the end of Greg’s long day.  We cheered loudly as our brother crossed the finish line.  It was everything I had ever imagined it would be. 

We scrambled off the bleachers to find Greg and celebrate with hugs.  So many of us gave him hugs as he looked so relieved to be done.  I may have pushed my way towards the front of the “hug Greg” line, but I felt entitled to get to him quickly, after all I am his Ironman sister. 

We did it!  We are official Ironmen!  It was awesome to be done!