The Journey is the Reward
By Christina DeRonde
From the 12th floor of my hotel room I could see over a small slice of the Woodlands, Texas, the site of the first TEXAS Ironman as the Texans like to refer to the event. The meandering canal and cute apartments and condo complexes surrounded a curvy walking path. In view, down and to my right, was a small seating area. A sign above the benches read THE JOURNEY IS THE REWARD...
I was coming into this event with a business mindset. I had some time goals and was on pace to complete my 5th Ironman in under 12 hours. Confident I could do the job, I laid out a race plan that focused on ensuring I nailed my nutrition so I could run strong. We drove the bike course, rode the run course, did the practice swim-that would not include a wetsuit-and I was never more prepared for any Ironman than this one. I was nervous and respectful. Any full iron distance event is tough regardless of how many or how frequently you tackle them. I knew the day could deliver just about anything. I planned for strong winds, high heat and humidity. I was staying relaxed even when I knew a non wetsuit legal swim would slow me down. I was okay. I had experience and perspective.
I also had a cold.
I awakened race morning with a horrible sore throat and a much runnier nose than the previous few days. Whatever. I could handle it. I had experienced the same in St. George and knew not to take pain relievers on the bike no matter how alluring. I knew not to ignore my nutrition. I knew I could handle my symptoms this time.
The swim was pushy and congested. Not unusual. The water was curious. Also, not unusual. Wetsuit free for 2.4-that was unusual. I kept trying to remember to keep my heels up whenever I could break free of bodies. Swimming stress free in a pool is vastly different than swimming with 2400 other friends all of whom are jockeying for better positioning. Some of the guys-who chose to wear wetsuits-are big. They have big, beefy legs, arms and fists. They meander too! It is really exhausting to shake them sometimes. Sighting is a challenge without a wetsuit because my legs can sink. I have systems for sighting so it wasn't too bad-just different. I focused hard and stayed relaxed. All in all, I enjoyed myself. I usually feel happy during an ironman swim-my second favorite part of the day. When I rounded the final buoy towards the swim exit, I heard Mike Reilly say something about another athlete exiting the water and having a great 1:35 swim and my heart sank.
I felt good running up to T1. I guess because I had a lazy ass 2.4 mile 1:35 swim. Maybe I was too relaxed! Oh well, leave it behind. My transiition was quick enough because it was hot and I didn't need extra gear. When I approached my bike, I was relieved to see more than a few bikes from my age group competitors still racked. Cool. I knew I could catch people on the bike.
I did. I caught more than a few people during the bike. I love this portion even though it is soooo long and I am usually asking myself why do I do these long ones? And I wonder how much damage I am inflicting on my 9-year-old by traveling for 5 days at a stretch? And why do competitors suddenly relax and want to chat after the midway point? This one gets me. Folks are serious and pushy at the swim and into the bike. As people relax and settle in and realize just how long they will be on the course you can sense a collective sigh and they become much friendlier. I usually know the spot. Just after Bike Special Needs.
Early into the bike I knew I made a mistake with my equipment and I was dealing with it for 112 miles. The fabric that covers my arm pads tore months ago. So, I removed both arm pad cloth covers. Riding through the winter months didn't present any challenges for my forearms becasue I had long sleeves on and the fabric gripped the pads. However, when I was resting a bare forearm on the pads, the underlying cushion was slippery due to wetness and I couldn't adequately cradle my arms. The high humidity and heat meant that I was slick with sweat the entire ride and I continued to slip forward on my arm pads. I used an exorbitant amount of upper body strength and energy -and exasperation at my stupidity-to remain in aero. When I arrived at T2 in a little over 6 hours, I took a moment in the tent to relax my achy neck, back and shoulders, sore from my equipment arm pad mishap. Lesson learned-always manage my equipment.
I headed out on the run and had my fingers crossed that I had my run legs that day. Lo and behold, I did. I felt pretty good. Almost immediately, I ran into Gerardo, Emily and Mark. I took a very important call from Bill and the Blondies all curious about my day. A brief update for the family and then I took off to the musical stylings of Usher rocking out the group of spectators just ahead of me. "Baby tonight, the Deejay's got us falling in love again...baby tonight..." Good tunes. I love good ironman music. All day long-transition in the morning, aid stations during the bike and run and at the Finisher's chute. I want the playlist.
I just love an ironman run too. When the volunteers at aid stations are blasting music, dressed in costumes and are just generally AWESOME, it is I who is in awe of those complete strangers who only want to give me and my fellow athletes, nutrition, words of praise and comfort and sometimes the occasional hilarious heckle that makes us smile and keeps us moving. Ironman volunteers and spectators are the most amazing people. Our time spent on the run course would be awful without them. I want to be them. They restore my faith in humanity. Thank you everyone who cheers and volunteers.
I felt good on the start of this run. My plan was a gel every 45 minutes to an hour. I took my favortie flavored Mocha gel at mile 6. Yummy. I threw it and eveything else in my tummy up at mile 7.5 in some neatly trimmed hedges in plain view of everyone. WHOA. Didn't plan for that.
I have friends who have hurled during an ironman marathon and went on to have great runs. The barfing can cure the issue and allow the tummy to finally settle. I felt immensely better and started running again. I finished the first loop and decided to swig on water. I was DRY. My throat was RAW. My spit was FOAM. It was then that Tom Mossman and I found each other. He looked good. I started to cry. Then, I started to barf and told him to go have his run and don't wait for me. He would have walked with me because he is a dear friend and a wonderful person. Thanks Tom. But, this was your day too and you should get to have your run. Who knew how long this was gonna take anyway.
The nausea and vomiting persited the entire marathon. At one point, Amy Berkin-Chavez came upon me and iced me down. You need it she said. Use it. Thanks Amy. You were right. When I neared the end of the second loop, Gerardo was on the course looking for us all. I saw him across the canal and he was trying to gauge my well being and encouraged me to drink. Through the gift of pantomime, I explained that was he last thing I wanted. When I eventually made it around to his side of the canal he had a care package of recovery aids for me. Thanks Liza Velarde for helping us both. From the time I first spoke to him until the moment I came upon him was roughly a mile and a half. During that time, I was convinced I would DNF. How much of a toll was was the vomiting taking on me? Why not DNF so that I could realize I have limitations and stop scheduling these long course events every six months? Give myself a break. Live a normal life. Stop the madness.
He made me eat ginger. He made me take salt. He made me sit and drink what I could stomach. And, he sat on a bench with me and listened and talked while I cried very disappointedly about the run I was having versus the run I was prepared to have. I didn't plan for the vomiting. I was sad and upset. And, Gerardo was amazing. He let me cry and work through my conflicted ironman mindset, come to my own decision and then he helped me back out on the course after walking with me for over a mile. I would not have fared as well without him. He was calm, thoughtful, reassuring, circumspect and selfess guidance. I cannot thank you enough Big G.
I ran a bit more after I left him. I ran into Cari Mossman soon after seeing Gerardo and got myself a big giant hug and words of praise and an encouraging smile. Thanks Cari! I could do this for sure-less than 10 miles to go.
I got sick a few more times-once after meeting with the paramedics. We chatted, they took my blood pressure and pulse, they scolded me for drinking gatorade and then they marveled at all the athletes like myself who on the dark throes of dehydration manage to maintain low heart rates and remain lucid and alert. We are well trained in self abuse they mused. Our bodies react well to exorbitant amounts of stress they agreed. That is what an ironman is about, right? They were kind and supportive and allowed me to continue. Whew. 6 more miles.
The funny thing about being on an ironman course into the evening hours is the vastly different atmosphere that pervades the air. There are no more cow bells in the dark. No more loud cries of GO, GO, GO!!! Far fewer spectators. A peacefulness fills the night time. It is quiet hand clapping and calm reassurance. Away from the crowd, the athlete is left only with their own scattered thoughts and self reflection and the kindness of their fellow racers who in hushed tones or knowing sympathetic glances provide encouragement to push through the pain and discomfort. They give the best support they can with a soft pat, a tiny whimper or a quick chuckle at their similarly exhausting predicament. I love the ironman course at night. My favorite part of the day.
On this Texas night, The Woodlands were beautiful. The air was cooler, the breeze blowing softly, the few remaining spectators so observant and supportive. Folks recognized me from my earlier struggles. They cheered me on. Go 400. You didn't give up!!! A very kind woman offered me a drink from her own water bottle after I threw up for the final time at mile 25. She was so sweet. I am stunned at the person who will rescue a complete stranger who decided that pushing through 140.6 miles in under 17 hours was a good idea. Thank you nice lady. You helped me.
As I walked on, my mind filled with images of the day. I thought of how far I came, the new lessons I learned and how very grateful I am for Gerardo's support. I thought of my family back in LA and their unselfish support and willingness to let me travel the globe testing my mettle as they cheer me on via clandestine cell conversations. Thank you Bill, Alex and Cory. I thought of sweet Marvin and wished I had seen him on the course. I thought of my friend Tom who would complete his first of many Ironman events on this day and how he came back from serious injury and made it happen.
And, I recalled the sign that read THE JOURNEY IS THE REWARD.
How true. How utterly, outrageously, beautifully true.
I am blessed, I am thankful. I have learned even more lessons-important lessons-life lessons and triathlon lessons. I am grateful. I am respectful.
I love this life.
I love Ironman.
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