Quintuple Iron World Championship
Mexico Nov 6-11 2005
12 mile swim/ 560 mile bike/ 131 mile hobble
Second place for Women 11/20 OA
5 days 11 hrs 3? minutes
Dan—sorry about the length I swear I kept it short at 7 pages.
I am writing this memory solely because past race reports have helped other athletes. Not sure how, but so they say. Ultra land is no different than regular distances just the road to pain is different, easier in a multitude of physical ways and harsher on the mind. Quintuple 2005 was the first time for this distance for my weathered body. This season was already a wash with the first 5 races marked up as negative. Missed the first 3 due to a death in the family, a broken bone in my foot, and a new job. The next two races netted me a double iron (triple start and after 30 hrs in the rain was just really over it) and 180 crappy miles on a bike with two blown achilles all within the month of October. Just having the mindset to get on a plane to Mexico took everything out of me. Obviously in hindsight I am elated I went, during is a whole other tale.
Last season killed my spirit. The Deca Iron in Hawaii was the absolute worse run race I have ever participated in, yet also the hardest and most fullfilling finish line. All season everyone has thrown at me time and time again “if you can do a deca you can do anything” which is a lie. Every race brings forth a new frontier, no matter how many times you have stepped to the start line. I got lucky last season and dealt with swelling on the brain and liver shut down from not having medical help during the deca. I truly question why am I doing these? The Quintuple in the back of my mind might have been my last start ever, I was prepared to face this fear. Midway around mile 400 on the bike I snapped and I found my ultra groove. Ultras are just beginning for me, which intimidates me and excites me at the same time.
Out of all the events I have ever participated in, hands down Mexico is the safest and ALL about the athlete. Other events shoot high, but Mexico takes the cake. The athlete and safety is at the top of the list at all times. I have never ever been to a race where I felt so safe. I encourage anyone that is interested in doing a double/quad/quin/deca to look into Mexico. The course is brutal in being a whopping 1.2 mile long, but at the same time you feel like you are just on a longer crit course when you are whipping around the corners at night time. Watch out for the flying ducks, and don’t get down when they waddle faster than you can waddle.
Getting off the plane in Mexico excitement was all around. All these signs for EAC and the cute man who walked off the plane with me kept asking if they were there for me. I had to explain I was looking for IUTA not EAC. EAC was for the Eagles. Had I planned this right I could have left my bike in the airport and just been part of the crew, but no, instead I was to look for my ride. In the hurry apparently I missed the big sign with my name on it. Instead I went outside and made friends with the cops. There aren’t too many towns where I haven’t made friends with the cops so this was to be no different. After 20 minutes of figuring out my broken Spanish they asked who was coming to get me, they were more than willing to take me to my destination. I finally dug up some paperwork and was able to get hold of the RD. My ride was in the airport. Sitting around waiting for the next athlete I was talking with the driver and we saw this guy go buy with PURPLE hair. I couldn’t stop laughing, I told my driver I think he is with the band. The purple hair man turns around and it is no other than Alaine Dupuis from France. I couldn’t stop laughing…he looked so darn cute. Alaine is in his 50s I think and just one of your typical cards of an ultra athlete. After typical French kisses (love the French) he tells me the hair is for Fiesta. In reality it was for rugby (I think). Transportation was in order and upon arrival to the dorms, my home for the next week, Jorge provided a box of goodies and a bag of drinks.
Pre-race meal was by far the absolute best I have ever attended. I got a chance to catch up with my dear friends and to meet some new family members. Crown Plaza Monterray was simply spectacular. We had live music, introduction of athletes, and basically anything you could dream up for food. I remember the lobster thermadore, the steak, sushi, crab, wine, chocolate, did I mention the chocolate? I have been to some really nice restaurants over the years, but never anything quite to this level. Good news is this was also to be the sight of the post race awards. Highlight of the pre-race was of course all the goodies (full dunlap outfit jacket and pants and polo) and Arthur (67 yr old) ballroom dancing with Cynthia (wife of Todd Heady). Arthur asked me to dance, but I knew better, Cynthia had no idea what she was getting into. What a quaint way to start out the week, lobster and dancing…yeah, I came to ‘race’. Later that night I had a special night out with Vincenzo, Pascal and Beat. Quite a list of characters and I should have been drinking to truly enjoy the evening, after all we found the bierhouse in Mexico, where else should I go but to a German restaurant in Mexico with my friends from Switzerland and Italy. Race, what race?
Drug testing is mandatory at certain events. I had myself all worked up into a frenzy over getting needled. I can handle a lot of things, but needles aren’t one of them. I nearly passed out when they took the small vial. Spent the day before the event watching the full and half irons race, simply spectacular. I stayed out with Beat until almost 11 pm watching Bern from Germany through his final laps on the course. I wanted to wait for his finish, but I knew this was it for sleep for a week.
Race morning. Cool thing about the longer ones, races start at noon. I don’t even waste my time setting an alarm clock. In Mexico a bus fetches you for the swim, and a taxi returns you to the race site post-swim. Since I was self-crewing the entire event I had it worked out in my head how I was going to utilize my 20 mins in the cab. At the pool I got assigned to lane 4. I was to swim with speedy Todd Z. and Guy. I got the pleasure of toe sucking an 8 time Deca finisher. Prior to the start everyone got med checked. The guy doing my BP had no clue what he was doing. He pumped my arm up to 220 and shut off the entire use of my hand. I asked the Dr. what the reading was and he said 110/100…uh, really not possible. He thought maybe I was just excited for the race, and if I felt ‘dizzy’ to come get him. Oxygen was at 98% and I think my heart rate was in the 70s.
My swim was a little disappointing. I was planning about half an hour earlier, I still have no clue how I got so far off of pace. Little tidbit for this distance, vasoline for the hands, feet and face, and the word is often. Feet issues do not need to start in the swim. I accidentally got a little bit too much on my nose and that brought out a whole new sensation to my sinuses. For some reason in this pool the edge is about a foot taller than the water. Eating was difficult and I had to tread water while I consumed. I could feel my typical weight gain begin in the pool. I also did a huge no no. I extended to the edge each loop to touch and turn. Longer distances I cannot flip for my head can’t handle that much turning. Because the edge is so much taller I began to overstretch my latts and pinch my supraspinatus. Eventually I caught on and touched under the water. I can’t think of anything different I would have done for the swim, other than go faster. My times in the pool recently dictated a 7.45 if it was a bad swim, well something really bad happened because I didn’t exit until 8.15. Little bummed, but first woman out.
Mary (Arthur’s amazing wife) helped to pull off my wetsuit. Prior to going I had a complete body exfoliation done (love working at spas) and when my wetsuit came off there was a ton of dead skin. I just couldn’t understand why. The next day on the bike when the sun came up, I understood. Once again, my brand new Ironman wetsuit ripped off the skin on both forearms and the top of both thighs. I don’t understand it, and I don’t know what to do different, I really thought dropping $4whatever on a suit was the answer. I really love the Stealth suit because of the cooling effect, but losing my skin, which is kind of important, is telling me I need to find a solution and quick. Cycling in the sun with stripped arms REALLY hurt to the point of tears. One week later my arms are still sensitive.
The Bike
I knew I had a huge target on my back. I was concerned about Sylvia. I didn’t know how long until she got out, Sylvia is my one true idol and I was excited to race with her and fully ready to get my butt handed to me by a 51 year old grandmother. Suraya I knew would hunt me down. If Manuella had a good swim (which for her she did!) I knew I was a moving target. Keyta (Maria) I had no clue about other than she had the sweetest smile which could be deadly if I wasn’t careful. I road the first hour or so in peace knowing it was just me and the men and the onslaught was about to happen. I found a groove and was happy. Way too soon I saw Suraya out on the bike. I knew I was in for a long battle. I was out to race my race though, so truthfully I didn’t care who was there—bring it, I did. I am a night owl, so the race for me really wasn’t going to start until the suffering in the heat was to commence. I got through the first night on no sleep and when the sun rose I witnessed my first morning of amazing senses. All the flowers in the park opened up to great the day. Time for me to sleep. On average I slept 1-2 hrs a day. My body went into immediate race/survival mode and I TRIED to sleep for 3, but 2 was even difficult. I shut down somewhere and stopped consuming. I knew I was going to be in trouble. I kept telling myself get off your bike eat, drink, sleep, but my butt just wanted to be in the saddle. I have a new bike and we were bonding. Nothing more relaxing than time in the saddle, I love my new bike. Thank you Patrick at All3 for getting me on the right set-up.
The first day I struggled with the heat. My forearms were raw, my top of my legs were raw. The sun just sliced through them and all I could feel was a searing pain. I ended up taking a fresh shower thinking that would help, instead all it did was eat an hour, the arms were in serious trouble. I made it to med check-in and my BP was at 110/60 (finally normal reading) and my O2 dropped to 97%. After staying off the bike for most of the day due to the heat and arms I got back on as it cooled. I didn’t like missing that much time, but it was a long race and I just wasn’t ready to suffer. I could feel the weight gain really starting and I was getting concerned. I was NOT taking in any salt tabs, by choice. I was taking in way too much Coke, too much Powerade, and not enough real food. My stomach was already shutting down. I was craving sugar in ways I cannot describe. The third day of med check my glucose was creeping into the mid 80s and my weight shot up almost 25 (!!!) lbs. I knew I was feeling miserable. In the night time I would see lights and go chase them, its what I do to activate my mind. I was chasing this one set of lights and I felt like my heart was going to explode. I kept thinking man, I am out of sorts. Turns out I was chasing the World Record Breaker Emanuel, yeah that was smart. I immediately got off my bike and rested. No way was I going to do that to myself no matter how good I felt. Key to ultras is keeping emotions at bay. Going through a high high like that was beyond stupid, and I was to pay in a few short hours.
One thing I will never get about men. What is the urge to pee on top of a bridge? Really, what is it? One man started and before you knew it there was an actual piss lake at the top of the bridge. It was really funny at first and I saw a ton of moons, but that smell of urea in the mid day heat was a bit much. Perhaps I am just jealous that I have to actually go find a toilet, I don’t know. I was told by one of them that it was so he could find the route. While I am on the topic of tmi, for whatever reason every race throws a period for me. I don’t know why, and it only started at the triple level. Without fail around day 2 just like clockwork. I am only telling this info, because honestly there is maybe 4 other women in the World I can ask about this, and none of them go through this. For the first race in a long time though I did not throw kidney stones. I think the lack of sodium is what evened that one out.
Second night on the bike proved to be challenging. I am cycling along around 4am and I hear click click click. Oh man, that can’t be good. No one is awake that speaks English. My trusty wrench Pascal is not around. The only man I really trust with my bike is Pascal. I find the crew for Guy and ask him, uh what? Turns out I broke a spoke on my Zipp. I have owned these wheels for 6 yrs and have easily 6000 race miles on them, so I think it is about time something goes. Of course I don’t have a spare wheel, first race without one. I don’t have a spare spoke, why would I. He bandaged my spoke to the next one and I have no choice but get out and ride. Twenty hours (yes 20) go by and I finally see Pascal I ask him to look at my bike because I feel like my brakes keep riding and my quad is starting to seize up. Quads usually don’t bother me until the 1k mark. Earlier in the day I had Tim Z. help fix my brake from sliding all over. Turns out I was pushing a broken wheel for 20 hrs, the wheel would roll and immediately stop, this is what I was pushing through. I had to look around for a bike to borrow and a wheel to use. Todd Heady (all 6’2) offers me his 606 which is compatible with my 10 speed. I then have to find a ride that has speedplays on it while they chainwhip me. Of course Todd has a spare bike. Yeah, I am 5’5ish and he is 6’2ish, that should be an adequate fit. I couldn’t stop laughing the entire loop. I couldn’t sit down if I cared to reach the pedals. I laughed so hard that entire loop I was out of breath when I came around. Of course Pascal had me all fixed and tweaked in that one loop. LOVE Pascal. If ANYONE is looking for someone to sponsor for RAAM this coming year, Pascal got in and needs to raise serious funds. I so want to see him do his dream. The man is all about the bike and is the most amazing wrencher I have ever met not to mention extremely handsome. He always puts a smile on my face. He is Beat’s trusty partner and you can reach him via me or Beat.
One of the parts of the race you don’t think about is manual timing. It was required I said my number in Spanish each time I passed. Easy enough task. Well, until one day passes. I was diez y nueve (probably spelled that wrong too). By day two I was yelling out dicevengo, diconovo, dicevino, you name it. I probably cycled an extra who knows how many because they never got my number. I know at one point I would just say diez and point and the young men would yell out nueve. I had way too much fun out there and asking me for my number was really pushing the brain limits.
Only real struggles I had on the bike was during the last 20ish laps. I just didn’t want to finish cycling. I don’t know what came over me. I lost it emotionally and just sat and cried. I don’t know what it was. Part of me thinks it was leading for so long. I didn’t feel like I deserved to be there. My season was a wash, my training was horrid, my hours of work where way too much, and well school just consumed my life, not to mention boards and more boards. I second guessed my abilities, and just like clockwork sabotaged myself. Up until this realization I was having the time of my life. HUGE smile on my face, nothing could go wrong, then BAM out of nowhere everything was wrong. I snapped at Vincenzo for saying something that was very true and very hurtful. I let very few people into my heart, and Vincenzo has a special place. Him saying something that on any other day I would have laughed with him, put me over the edge. I was angry at him, angry at myself for not taking this seriously, and then to be leading…seriously? That was just way too much. I utilized my resources to get my head back in the game. All the crew women helped me. Even Arthur out on the course already on the run kept throwing enthusiasm my way. Herberto (sp?) was yelling at me to spin smaller and my poor little head couldn’t handle any more foreign language. I was completely snapping, and Vincenzo got the backlash. I have to really hand it to Wendy (Michael’s wife) and Sherry and Cynthia (friend and wife of Todd H.) and Mary for looking out for me. I was extremely impressed with the women going through this the first time and watching the emotions. Everyone goes through them, everyone has to eat, sleep, go to the bathroom and have their emotions, including the crew. These women made my race for me, and the men out on the course kept me in check.
I think the only special thing I did during the bike was I had Quiznos deliver some sandwiches to me. I stole one of Berto’s 9 brothers to go pay the driver. Of course I now have to have a 606 after the final loops on such a supreme wheel.
I was the first woman off the bike, and believe it or not, I thought about quitting. I thought about ending my ultra life right then and there. I went and took a shower and packaged up all my run gear. I sat in my room and laid on my bed. I thought I can walk away from it all, or just go do what I am supposed to do. How easy would it be for me to quit? Sylvia dropped out, she is my idol, why can’t I? I repeated the words, run your race and deal with this afterwards. I dragged my suitcase full of shoes and food to my tent and checked into the run. I had a long transition and just started the run. Surprisingly I felt fabulous. I wore the skull cap of Mexico that Carlos gave me, and really started to heat up. My feet immediately did not feel good. I just switched shoes and they were not fitting. It turns out I gained right at 25 lbs on the bike and I just couldn’t move. I was so bummed. I worked so hard, struggled through the mental and physical demons and now this.
I checked in with medical and we decided I really needed a diuretic. I walked with Cynthia who is a nurse and discussed what could happen. My only option was to get the weight off. I couldn’t see the line between my delt and bicep and my feet were not fitting in my shoes. Sylvia comes out to the course and she and I walk for a lap. There is a photo on the photo page with me pre-diuretic and with my idol Sylvia. She starts talking to me telling me she has a race for me. This is just shortly after I think I am ending my ultra lifestyle. She has invited me into an invite only race of 10 athletes to run 1000 miles. Oh my, I think I misheard her. The more I talked to her, the more I realized I did hear her. Truly touched, but I have to get my mind back first. For the rest of the race I became fixated on my feet and the thought of 1000 mile run. Can I do that? Will my body? Do I have time to prep for that? Do I REALLY want to do a run without a swim and bike first? Oh my, get my head back into THIS game. Shortly after this Vincenzo tells me I am having the race of my life. It isn’t everyday you get the opportunity to win a World Championship. I immediately shutdown. I couldn’t handle the pressure anymore. The internal pressure was bad enough, but my feet really couldn’t take another step. I so wanted to just be a bride. I am tired of being a bridesmaid, just once I want that race, but apparently not bad enough. Not nearly as bad as Suraya. She came out running.
I suffered through several miles and then I took the diuretic. Man those things work. I couldn’t stop going to the bathroom. The damage sadly was already done. I had blisters. I usually get small ones, but nothing like these. I was draining my own blisters and using duct tape and superglue. The feet were heating up way too much from the ground and the superglue wasn’t even holding. I told the French crew that even my feet cry. After losing the lead and my spirit in the dumps I decided to have medical address my feet. Turns out I had four infected blisters and at this point had been running in two different shoes for quite some time. Last season Spenco helped me, and all the products I owned by them were way too far away. I don’t know if they could have saved me. Spenco worked in Hawaii, and I was told this wasn’t as bad as Hawaii. I am thinking next event hands down Spenco all the way again. The Dr.s worked on my feet for two hours. That was depressing, I just wanted to get moving, not lay on my backside. I was able to run once they fixed me, but only for a short period before they filled again.
Beat called me Duck Daisy, usually it is Sugar Baby, but now I have a new name. I waddle like a duck when I get into the deca shuffle mode. It is quite a different running style when you are out there just to survive. I was so disappointed in my run this time. I pride myself in the ability to hold a pace, I just couldn’t even walk. I was simply miserable. Sylvia was looking after me whenever she got a chance, but my body just wanted no part in the event. I was disappointed in where I was at, I just knew no matter what I needed to finish, for no other reason but to know I belong in ultras. At some point on the run I fell asleep for 2 hrs. I had asked Mary to wake me in 20 minutes and she missed me somehow. I wasn’t upset because obviously I needed the sleep but what was so funny was Mary. Never ever has she said a bad word/thought. She is from England so everyday at 4 she prepares tea and cookies. When she realized she had missed me she tells me she was dealing with a grumpy old man. I couldn’t stop laughing. Arthur is not grumpy nor old so that is where the humor came from, and that grumpy old man was kicking my sorry tail.
The last 5 loops were the most miserable of everything. I fell asleep on my feet. I had 3 red bulls, 4 cokes, mouthwash in my mouth for 2 minutes, cinnamon altoids like they were candy and nothing could wake me up. I had Cynthia and Sherry walk the last 5 with me. Told them to talk about anything just activate my mind. They both brought up how far I had come how far I had left. I begged them, no not that topic. Everything they brought up I couldn’t discuss. I give them such credit for getting me through the final 5. Immediately after finishing I fell asleep on a bench. Arthur was to finish one lap behind me. Had I known how close he was I would have done anything to finish with him. He is an icon and that opportunity to race so close will probably never arise again.
One of the most amazing things about Ultras, we are family. Emanuel who shattered the World record and finished in 3 days and one hour (!!!) was out there at the finish line for every single finisher. He was out there when I was struggling yelling at me to keep moving. I finished 2.5 days behind him, and there he was at midnight for me. I am so happy for Emanuel, no one deserves it more than him. 1.75 days after I finished the final finishers finished, and Emanuel along with almost everyone from the awards dinner came out to watch Keyta finish. Ultra lifestyle and family is simply amazing. Inspiration comes from the smallest corners at the oddest times.
The day after the race was probably the hardest, at least in the morning. I hobbled down to watch Vincenzo and decided to have my feet looked at. They were seriously infected and I got to receive a lovely shot in the tush of antibiotics. I can’t handle needles, so this did not go over well. My feet were trashed. They poured water on them and I screamed in pain. UN POCO UN POCO!!! Mucho duele con mi pie. I felt the water that felt like ice being thrown on my feet and it was hot. My feet were on fire. I got the bandages and it was time for ladies day downtown. The crew ladies and Suraya and I went margariting. Even Mary We laughed at all the men sleeping. I paid dearly. The infected feet still a week later are just now allowing me to walk on them. Muscles are fine, and I go for a bike ride tomorrow. Of course that is only after I put in my request for a 606.
How many more ultras? Oh, I am just getting started. I am going back to Mexico for the 10 in 10 next year, and have penciled in the deca in France. I might switch that to the double in Austria and of course the Heady’s Hill Billy Iron in Sept in Kentucky. As Beat would say…a baby triathlon. I like the babies, but I love the road of pain too. I think I might take one year and get serious about my nutrition and training. I haven’t peaked yet, and I would really like to be a Bride…just once. Two years in a row being second in the World Championships is amazing, but am I capable of holding it together…I don’t know. Suraya paid me the ultimate compliment and also made me realize I haven’t done my homework. She told me she researched my last 4 yrs of racing and knew my tactics. She explained to me more about myself that I did not know. I never once researched her…I just do this for fun. Perhaps I should take this seriously. I absolutely love racing with Suraya. She makes me dig, and one of these days I am going to pull it together.
Ultras are very doable by anyone, the question is do you feel like dealing with the mental abuse? My body recovers time and time again so easily, but the mind takes awhile. This race was the easiest and yet I did not get to share in it with my sister. Perhaps that is what was so hard. Self-crewing was easier than dealing with a crew, but I truly missed my sister out there. I missed sharing in the ‘crazy’ adventure. Crazy is good in my World. Thank you to those that followed me on-line, I am truly touched and happy to share the ultra world with you. Thank you for the words of encouragement, the congratulations notes and the well wishes. Those that don’t get it, no biggie. They didn’t get Ironman when it was first out.
