On Thursday we drove up to Louisville, but before that, Katie surprised me and decorated the Jeep. She's the best.
We eventually got there and checked into the Galt House. The next morning, I was beyond excited to go to the expo and get checked in. This is the 5th discipline in a triathlon. Most people think it is just 3 disciplines; swim, bike and run. Well the 4th is nutrition, and the 5th is not buying everything at the expo.
Later that day, Katie's sister, Kelly, her mom, Patty, and our newest nephew, Nolan, came into town to meet us. I was really excited to meet him and I was hoping to make a good first impression by finishing an Ironman. Plus, Nolan was generous enough to donate to some of the miles. What a guy.
Race Morning: alarm clock goes off and it's time to do this. I make a cup of coffee, which was nice because I was on a 2 week caffeine fast. I made my typical PB and J sandwich, got dressed, and bounced.
I went down to the employee freezer where the front desk said they could keep my Red Bulls frozen for me. It was locked, of course. Great.
I walked my way towards the start line and I realized I was a tad hungry. I forgot my PB and J. Perfect.
I pumped a little air in my tires, walked to the swim start and got in line. I had head phones in but decided to make small talk with the other maniacs in line. It was all the same stuff. I heard "it is supposed to be hot." I heard "it's really hilly." Then my family came to meet me before I jumped into the river. I got a few last good lucks, hugs, kisses, but mostly crazy looks.
The line began to move forward and what happened next gave me and continues to give me goosebumps as I write about it. We walked through the crowds of cheering people to the docks where we would start out 140.6 mile journey. "For those about to rock, we salute you!" ACDC was booming over the loud speaker and everything was in slow motion. High fives from the crowds, American flags being waved, and deafening cheering. I can only imagine this is what a UFC fighter feels like before entering a ring. At this point there were no more nerves. I was ready.
I entered the water about 7 minutes after 7am. For me, the swim went great. I felt like I passed a lot of people and the current didn't seem too strong when I was traveling upstream. I just tried to focus on my form, not go too hard, and enjoy it. I wish I would have enjoyed it more because this would be the easiest part of the race. I got out of the water and looked at my watch. 1:06! What the.. Did I qualify for Kona? Am I a super hero? I guess the current down stream was pretty heavy.
I told Katie and gang to expect me around 1:20-1:30 so I just figured I wasn't going to see them. That's the price you pay for being Michael Phelps.
I got my bike and started heading out and I saw the squad cheering me on. Shew, I thought they'd miss me. I waved and they went crazy like I was Justin Beiber or something. And off I went.
112 miles of bike riding is a lot to talk about. So forgive me if I don't cover it all. Around mile 68 I stopped on the side of the ride to see everyone. Benny was on the other side, in the shade, so I didn't get to see him, that made me a little sad. I gave some more kisses and hugs. Katie assured me that everyone was having a great time. That helped ALOT. For some reason I thought everyone would be miserable, but I guess not. After that I was just hot, bored, chaffed, and miserable. I was no longer having fun. I wanted to be off the bike more than anything. So I just kept pedaling. I sang songs in my head, said prayers in my head (eventually out loud) and counted, anything to keep my mind off of pedaling. It just kept going and going and going.
Then it was over. The thought of a marathon was actually very welcoming. Just please don't make me ride a bike anymore. So I threw on the old running shoes, and off I went.
Every race I've ever done from my first 5k, to a half marathon, to a Tough Mudder, to my first triathlon there were essentially two finish lines. One, of course, is at the end of the race and marks the end of actual competition. The other is a point where I know for a fact that I will finish. Literally no matter what happens, I will finish. Sometimes I cross this line early, sometimes right before the real finish line, but every time I cross it, it is a huge weight off my shoulders. As I ran past my family to embark on my first marathon, I crossed that finish line.
The first 13.1 miles went by pretty nice. I dumped ice water on my head every aid station, I ate some pretzels, and I drank some coke. I saw my family at the halfway point and got a lot of you look goods! And way to go! Almost done! Yeah.. I'm doing good. I'm almost done. Katie walked with me for a minute and told me how the rest is down hill and we've done this so many times. So again off I went.
About two more miles is when everything began to fall apart. I was bonking. Bonking is when you have burned through all of your glycogen stores and you have not consumed enough calories. I was in caloric debt and my body wanted to just stop moving. Oh yeah and I had 9 miles left of running/walking to do.
At this point it was dark, and I had been exercising since 7 A.M. Now I start to negotiate with my body. Run 10 minutes, walk 30 seconds. Run 10 minutes, walk 1 minute. Run 5 minutes, walk 1 minute. I literally did this until I got to run 1 minute, walk 1 minute. Then just walk.
This is the not-so-happy part of an Ironman. I was walking, everyone around me was walking. No one was talking. All the spectators and fans that were there on the first loop, were gone. I was chaffed, bonked, dehydrated, and a little delirious. There was nothing left. No energy. No fans. No motivation. Just pain and miles. I had stopped looking at the mile markers because it was depressing and confusing.
Then I heard, "Hey Captain Norris." At this point I think it is important to point out that I have never been stranded at sea. However, I have seen movies and shows where people are floating on a life raft and they have lost all hope, until suddenly they see seagulls. Seagulls! That must mean we are close to land! This is how I felt when I looked up and saw Todd. He was the seagull and I knew land couldn't be far. He gave me some words of encouragement, and I think I strung together a slur of words. So we started running together. Eventually he said, "You go ahead, I'll see you at the finish." So, I kept running. I knew I couldn't stop now.
I finally reached the last aid station. I could hear the music. I started picking up my pace. I felt like I was really cruising now. Looking back, I was probably only running like an 11 minute mile pace. But it felt super fast!
I turned the corner and saw the finish line. There are no words to describe an Ironman finish line. It was absolutely electric. I ran across the line, got my medal, and hugged my family. It was over.
Believe it or not, this is the short version of the story. To try and capture the journey or an Ironman in a blog post is impossible. And unfortunately I don't really like to talk about myself, so if you want the full story, you have to do your own 140.6 miles!
I would like to thank a bunch of people. First of all my wife Katie. She has put up with a lot. Every Saturday and Sunday morning for the past couple months she has woken up alone because I was already gone running or riding. Not to mention how tired and sore I've been. All my family that came to Louisville to watch me race. My mom, dad, stepdad Ed, father-in-law Todd, mother-in-law Patty, brother-in-law Danny, (soon to be!) sister-in-law Emily, sister-in-law Kelly, nephew Nolan, uncle Jimmy, cousin Megan, cousin Erin, two older brothers Dan and Scott, and last but not least, little Benny.
This is the not-so-happy part of an Ironman. I was walking, everyone around me was walking. No one was talking. All the spectators and fans that were there on the first loop, were gone. I was chaffed, bonked, dehydrated, and a little delirious. There was nothing left. No energy. No fans. No motivation. Just pain and miles. I had stopped looking at the mile markers because it was depressing and confusing.
Then I heard, "Hey Captain Norris." At this point I think it is important to point out that I have never been stranded at sea. However, I have seen movies and shows where people are floating on a life raft and they have lost all hope, until suddenly they see seagulls. Seagulls! That must mean we are close to land! This is how I felt when I looked up and saw Todd. He was the seagull and I knew land couldn't be far. He gave me some words of encouragement, and I think I strung together a slur of words. So we started running together. Eventually he said, "You go ahead, I'll see you at the finish." So, I kept running. I knew I couldn't stop now.
I finally reached the last aid station. I could hear the music. I started picking up my pace. I felt like I was really cruising now. Looking back, I was probably only running like an 11 minute mile pace. But it felt super fast!
I would like to thank a bunch of people. First of all my wife Katie. She has put up with a lot. Every Saturday and Sunday morning for the past couple months she has woken up alone because I was already gone running or riding. Not to mention how tired and sore I've been. All my family that came to Louisville to watch me race. My mom, dad, stepdad Ed, father-in-law Todd, mother-in-law Patty, brother-in-law Danny, (soon to be!) sister-in-law Emily, sister-in-law Kelly, nephew Nolan, uncle Jimmy, cousin Megan, cousin Erin, two older brothers Dan and Scott, and last but not least, little Benny.
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