I will spare you the breakfast details and skip straight to the good stuff. At 645 am I went to work on my first IM. The swim was going flawlessly and I even thought to myself "2000 people in this race and here I am swimming all by myself." This should have raised a few eyebrows (my own eyebrows) but I continued on swimming alone. As I reached the turn around I realized I was not swimming alone, I was the sucker pulling half of the pro pack. On the way back I tucked in to the middle of the pack and let someone else pull. Swam a 55 which was the shock of my life having been a 31 min half IM swimmer. I think the QR wetsuit is to thank for that one.
After I got out of the water people kept screaming "SIT DOWN." I had no idea why they were saying this so I kept screaming back "WHAT?!" To all of you iron virgins out there, dont ask why, just sit down and get stripped...it is as fun as it sounds.
In and out of the tent, and I was off on my bike. I hit a bump around mile 4 and lost my gel flask. No biggie, I figured I would just drink my calories. This worked out to 48 ounces of gatorade an hour...sitting here I realize that was an absolutely ridiculous idea for a 5'3" person. In the excitement of racing, I became an idiot...at least I got over my fear of peeing on the bike. I biked a 530, which was better than expected.
Started out on the run, which is usually my favorite part of the day. After the first mile I looked down and thought "I dont remember being 8 months pregnant." That was the start of a loooong run (I use that term loosely). I think the ENORMOUS amount of gatorade was to blame. Binge drinking is cool sometimes, but not in an Ironman. Somewhere around mile 19 I started to feel awesome, so I took off sprinting. This lasted about a mile before my gut put an end to it. Kind of a bummer, my legs never got tired, I was just too much belly and not enough muscle. Pulled in to the finish line in 10.40.
Did some chatting and headed back to my room for a shower. Started puking in the middle of Desperate Housewives, yakking would have been much more convenient at the 2 mile marker as opposed to in my hotel room. Headed back to the finish line for some cheering and to collect my sticky stuff. It was so inspirational to watch mothers, grandfathers, youngsters, first-timers, 30th timers, limpers and gallopers celebrating down the finish stretch. That is the beautiful thing about this sport, everyone has to overcome their own demons to get to the finish line, there is no easy way. In a society of instant gratification, we are a rare group...and I wouldnt have it any other way.
God Bless and thanks for reading, Laura
After I got out of the water people kept screaming "SIT DOWN." I had no idea why they were saying this so I kept screaming back "WHAT?!" To all of you iron virgins out there, dont ask why, just sit down and get stripped...it is as fun as it sounds.
In and out of the tent, and I was off on my bike. I hit a bump around mile 4 and lost my gel flask. No biggie, I figured I would just drink my calories. This worked out to 48 ounces of gatorade an hour...sitting here I realize that was an absolutely ridiculous idea for a 5'3" person. In the excitement of racing, I became an idiot...at least I got over my fear of peeing on the bike. I biked a 530, which was better than expected.
Started out on the run, which is usually my favorite part of the day. After the first mile I looked down and thought "I dont remember being 8 months pregnant." That was the start of a loooong run (I use that term loosely). I think the ENORMOUS amount of gatorade was to blame. Binge drinking is cool sometimes, but not in an Ironman. Somewhere around mile 19 I started to feel awesome, so I took off sprinting. This lasted about a mile before my gut put an end to it. Kind of a bummer, my legs never got tired, I was just too much belly and not enough muscle. Pulled in to the finish line in 10.40.
Did some chatting and headed back to my room for a shower. Started puking in the middle of Desperate Housewives, yakking would have been much more convenient at the 2 mile marker as opposed to in my hotel room. Headed back to the finish line for some cheering and to collect my sticky stuff. It was so inspirational to watch mothers, grandfathers, youngsters, first-timers, 30th timers, limpers and gallopers celebrating down the finish stretch. That is the beautiful thing about this sport, everyone has to overcome their own demons to get to the finish line, there is no easy way. In a society of instant gratification, we are a rare group...and I wouldnt have it any other way.
God Bless and thanks for reading, Laura