Getting Chatty!! My Ironman Chattanooga Race Report

Hobbling around today, is just that nagging reminder to get this race report in the books. As many of you know me, I like to write a short, sweet race report and hopefully find odd places for humour as well as what I learned in this particular journey. So here goes y’all…

Training

I am adding “Training” as a separate paragraph, because I have been told in my triathlon career that it’s more about the journey. Oh yeah, the journey – this time it was quite a rocky one. Why I was not enjoying many of the longer rides and runs as much as I have in the past, was summed up to “burnout”. Definition of Burnout: 2 Ironman races within a year of one another, and two 70.3s back to back within a month following that.

I continued to find the light in the dark side of Chatty though. (I coined the term Chatty while everyone else was using Choo Choo, and the reason may become evident within the story that lies ahead.)

5:00m swims always began with more moans and groans from me than ever, and even a slam of the snooze button, which is so out of character for me. BUT then missing out on swim coach Pete’s “Hello Miss Nutritionist” is difficult, so many a weary morning, I showed up just to hear that (and oh yeah, once I was there, I may as well swim too).

I did stick to those long runs, even if I shaved off a couple of miles from the scheduled distances, because I was being counted on by my faithful training buddies (and vice versa too) Jay and Sheila who made Wednesday mornings more of a party (well at least post run party). This is where Chatty begins… well at least I thought… Having regular running buddies allows one to catch up on all the who’s who in the zoo… Little did I anticipate always lagging behind, and catching my breath trying to catch up, over being chatty became more of a priority. Jay and Sheila, you made my days on Wednesdays… (Hell !!)

And of course I made sure my arse was in the saddle for many hours each week (well at least some hours). With my lack of bike skills, I could not afford not to. This included a few tough centuries (ok, only 2, but many metric centuries, they count too, huh?? 100 is a 100, kilometers or miles, its all the same difference, right?? RIGHT ?? ) I used many hours (as many as I could gather) to catch up on my shows on the spin bike in front of the TV. Even now, Giant (my road bike) is a permanent fixture in the living room (too lazy to pack it up and reassemble every time a ride showed up on my schedule and certainly too sore to pack it up just yet). Jarro the pup has become used to spinning wheels, and instead of barking and jammering for attention from me, he is now soothed by the whirl and has learned to sleep right through… ahh my Pup is growing up !!

Arriving in Chatty Land

Days leading up to race day continued to keep me in a twister. I blame this on feeling like my usual training was lacking, accompanied by unfavourable weather predictions, and the logistics of organizing a special spectator. Although, it is here that the light brightens… I was lucky to have my Mom come all the way from South Africa (via London, and a hop skip and jump to Toronto inbetween) to support me. I even managed to find a Sherpa for my Sherpa, and here is where I am deeply grateful to my friend Dan who came along for the journey, so my Mom could see me race without the stress of me being AWOL.

Swim

Well, the weatherman was wrong. I can’t remember the last time THAT ever happened – other than on Covington century day when it was 95% chance of rain all day predicted, yet not a drop fell on me OR on the last long ride day, and the same miracle happened OR when…. (ok, sure you got that point – suck it Mr. weatherman). The planets aligned, and the storms stayed away. Just as well, because my inner athlete made sure I was one of the first in line for my first IM rolling swim start. Waiting from 4:30am to 7:30am in the rain would have been rather miserable. But it turned out no rain, just a hurry up and wait situation with the twist of having to make a life changing decision “wet suit or not??” (it was an optional wetsuit river temperature, meaning wear a wet suit, and go to the back of the line).   After many minutes of flip flopping, the clincher was not to lose my almost first place in line… are you kidding – that should have been a no brainer all along!! And it turned out to be the BEST decision of the day – the swim was awesome!! Definite PR for most, even sans wetsuit!!  1:01 y’all – Beat that!! (I didn’t mean you, elite swimmer…)

Bike

Again, my weakness, me fear, my darkness… and why – simply cos I am stuck in one position for 112 (in this case 116) miles, and yes those extra 4 miles justify mentioning !! . Well everyone is stuck with their butt in a saddle, you may say. But me, I am stuck with the butt in the saddle and my hands glued to the bull horns and brakes. I do not move – I do not swat that bee stinging my forearm, I do not move the strand of loose hair stuck to my face, and I do not push up my sunglasses up even when that action is called for (that is why I do not wear sunglasses)… I keep telling y’all – I have a huge sense of fear and I often question myself – am I really eligible to riding 116 miles like this (well I have done it 3 times, ok the others were 112 (and those 4 miles make no difference at all)… I am sure I am the only person on the IM field with this problem? Anyone else relating? Anyone? Simple summary of the bike… the elation of getting out the river so fast started slowly waning as hundreds and hundreds of other cyclist passed me by… shouting “on your left” as if I was unaware they were even there. A few miles in, this was my new normal… on your left, ahhh shut up already !! WHATEVAH!!! I was in it, not to win it !! So I sucked it up, embraced the beauty of nature, the weatherman’s perfect mistake, and finished ahead of my predicted bike time. Beat that “on your left” !!

Transitions

Everyone asks an ironman triathlete what their strengths are, I am sure expecting either “swim” or “bike” or “run” to be uttered… but I usually utter “transitions” so they are certainly worth a mention in my report. What a high, finally ditching Dorette (formerly known as Dori, also known as “bike”) and embracing the run. It was so awesome to see the volunteers of the women’s changing tent. I think I knew half of them, and each one took on the role of concierge starting with Diane at the greeting desk (dressed to the nines), to Julie inside helping me get my shoes on the right feet, to Nancy just seeing me enter the tent, only to give me a huge hug wishing me a great run… sorry about the remnants of 116 miles Nance, but that embrace was priceless!!

Run

4:00 and 1:00s that is my strategy. For the first 3 or so miles getting to a run of 4 minutes was almost impossible, and the one minute walks became 1:30’s, 2:00s and so on (ok.. stop counting the minutes now!!)… but then Lo and Behold as the mile markers stopped swearing at me, I was rhythmically on plan…   I was impressed with my own strength at this point, particularly because of lack of brick work outs that always seem to slip by me on training days! You got that right, I did not do one brick run on my training days, (and for those of you wandering what a brick is, it is how your legs feel after 112 to 116 miles getting off a bike. Moving right along…

Running like the African that I am, merrily, merrily down the river front… who could possibly beat that !! (I do not mean you, elite triathlete on the second loop already)

Then oops, mile 8 or so happened. Who planted mount Everest, after mount Kilimanjaro in Chattanooga? Mmmm, a boer maak a plan y’all (an old South Africanism, meaning a country bumpkin will always find a way)… and so in this city girl decided to walk up the mountains, run down the slopes and throw all 4:00 and 1:00s to the wind only for this midsection of the marathon. It seemed to work !!

Half of my run was in the light of day although at this point the weatherman could redeem himself… rain began, embraced nevertheless, cos I was on my own 2 feet, and Dorette (bike) was already forgotten. Although the rain was welcomed by most of us out there (except the spectators) what was once perfect socks became imperfect blister makers, rubbing subtly at first, eventually turning holy.

I put up with it for some time until it felt like sticks and pine straw inside my shoe. I decided to ditch the socks and run with only shoes… the blisters had already formed, so being sockless wouldn’t be much different… As I was putting this plan in action, a very sweet volunteer named Kelly came over and gave me her socks… wow, what a thoughtful gesture!! Volunteers rock y’all!! Although I joked with Kelly about her socks being cotton (who wears cotton socks any more?? (the athletes would get this ;-)) I think it went over her head, because she was so excited that although she did not do this ironman, her socks did!!

Summary of the run: pretty along riverside, especially during the light of day (that didn’t last much longer,) mountainous in the middle, and flat and wet for the rest. Seeing tons of athlete friends and ATC (Atlanta Tri Club) team mates made this special… you are never alone on a course like this, so even in those very dark moments, and I mean dark of the night as well as dark of emotion, you know humanity comforts!!

Race Summary

All in all, Chatty was a great experience, even with a bumpy road to the finish – bumpy in many ways, burnout set in early, training was not up to parr, as well as those physical bumps, the mountains of Chattanooga (ok, hills). But there was always light, Mom coming all the way to visit and share the day was fantastic. Of course, finally getting Jay to train and become an Ironman was a reward too, and having Dan as a sherpa and cheerleader for both Jay and I was an appreciation of BFFs!!

Things I learned training and racing (or rather participating) Ironman Chattanooga:

• Mom is my strengths, my weaknesses, my darks, my lights, my joy, my support system, my life line all rolled into one, and always, always my Rock no matter what. Sharing this part of my life with her, as hard as it may be to relate to, is a blessing.
• Sometimes even a Sherpa needs a Sherpa
• Some people are just miserable souls… to the local of chatty who threw tacks on the road, and to the other local that covered a portion of the road with oil – you guys suck!! Sabotaging some athletes’ hard, hard work because you had a hard time dealing with a few extra people in your city is the lowest of lows !! I hope the karma train arrives at the station on time!! (choo choo) !! (In case you did not think about it, the athletes, spectators, volunteers, and event staff bring wealth and glory to your hometown…)
• Jay is trainable!! You did it Jay, you are an Ironman – and behind every ironman is a female ironman.
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• Jay is my first time ironman hero – he was tack attacked, yet found a way to still finish (thanks to some athlete who after taken to the hospital after crashing, left a spare tyre for Jay’s personal use) – Karma train is on time!!
• I love salted caramel anything. My mind is wandering off to the salted caramel ice cream at the Caboose on Peachtree (yes, the dietitian said that!), salted caramel pretzel pieces, just plain old salted caramel anything… BUT have you ever tried the salted caramel Gu’s… O.M.G
• I always thought the difficulty of sleeping after a race is because one feels like they’ve been run over by a truck, but the realization that it is more likely the caffeine in sports products hit me like a ton of bricks (no pun intended on the “brick”)   ß- I say this because my muscles were not really sore (only today, 2 days later, like now !!)
• Blisters on the ball of ones feet can be debilitating, even 2 days later, like now…
• Cross training in the gym is vitally important for strength and power. Although I pulled it out of the air on race day, I found that my power during the training part was directly proportional to time spent in the gym.
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• Not being a born and bred American, I did not know too much about a product called “Little Debbie”… now I do, and Little Debbie, Ironman Chattanooga’s primary sponsor, is an oxymoron.
•  Compression socks and hip shorts are underrated (that’s hip compression shorts, not hippie shorts, mind you, hippie shorts are underrated too)
• An ice cold coke halfway through the marathon of an ironman should be the next focus of research in successful sports nutrition products. Personal experience dictates it is the perfect combination of sugar, hydration and appeal.
• The finisher store is irresistible for a newbie. Thanks for the IM chatty water bottle Jay, hope you get a lot of wear out of your finisher jacket, as I still wear mine from Lake Placid days 😉
• I am all things Sports nutrition and sports nutrition is all things ME
• I am THAT puppy Momma!! I miss my baby Jarro like a real puppy Momma !! (I thought about getting home to him more on the bike, than of anything else)
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• Walking a rambunctious puppy with blisters sucks, especially when there are squirrels around the neighborhood
• My family, friends that are like the family I don’t have here (Jay, Dan,) all friends, clients, training buddies, students, co-workers (especially my JFCS team) light up my life more than I ever thought possible.
• My friend Michael G. who had a serious accident leaving him paralyzed a few months ago is an inspiration. In my deepest, darkest moments, I think of him, and then I think to myself how blessed I am to be able to do this sport, even when I wander why I do it!!
• Retirement from IM at least for a few years anyway, feels darn GOOD !!!
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