Ironman Goals Derail at Mile 51.4

After a long journey of training to join the elite Ironman club, everything unravels with a rusty guard rail and a close pass. The week/weekend up to the race went just like my training, perfect. Even the race was going perfectly up until mile 49 of the bike course.

Then, tragedy strikes! Another athlete with a freshly repaired wheel, performed a close pass to regain his position. Unfortunately this pass occurred, as my riding line was disappearing. To the right of me was a brick wall, but ahead of me was a guard rail jutting out from the brick wall, and no where to go on my left because of the passing biker. Light bulb, I'll use my right hand to push off the guard rail and keep my bike and me on the road. I overlooked the fact that I was cruising at 17-18 mph, so when I pushed off the rusty guard rail, I more or less jammed it with my right wrist. My front wheel hit the guard rail and I was launched from my bike with my left shoulder leading the fall. All would have been okay if my shoulder didn't land directly on the corner of the beam holding up guard rail. My shoulder sliced right open and I was on the ground yelling the F word for multiple reasons: crashing, the close pass, my bike potentially being screwed up, blood pouring out of my shoulder, and the inner layer of skin hanging out.

Luckily for me a competitor behind me and a spectator came to my aid and guiding athletes around the accident. They said I hit pretty hard and fast, and I was maybe a 1/2 mile from the next aid station. A couple of volunteers came from the aid station, and sacrificed a shirt to help contain the bleeding. Unfortunately neither volunteer had gauze on them so they called for medic support. While waiting for about 30-40 minutes, I had one volunteer go through my bike and fix any problems (dropped chain and shifted aero bars). At this point I realized that my time goals diminished in front of my eyes, but I should still be able to finish before midnight, and that I needed to get back on my bike so my support team would know I'm okay.

The medic arrives; I walk over to the ambulance ready to get bandaged up to get back on the hunt for the finish line. "What happened? Did you hit your head? Do you know what you're doing right now? Squeeze my finger? What's your heart rate?" Some of the questions that I answered numerous times to the same people. "Can you just wrap it up and let me back on the course?" The only question I asked about every 5 seconds I was in the ambulance. I tried to squeeze the guys finger off so I could get back on and prove that I just had a deep cut. Apparently the cut was too deep to continue and I no longer had the option. Final prognosis: deep cut tearing through 2 layers of skin and muscle. I received a couple of internal stitches and about 8 external stitches. They were concerned with how deep the cut was, potential nerve damage, infection, and blood loss.  I was worried about finishing.

I lost it, my day was over, my bike was transported to the transition area, and when I got to the hospital, they cut off my Ironman wristband. I had to make the call to a concerned support team (mom, dad, and Barbie), and let them know what was going on. They were waiting for about an hour, recalculating the time they should have seen me, growing concern for every moment that passed. Luckily they were awesome, walking to the hospital to comfort me.

I'm sorry that it took a while to get word out to everyone. I was more disappointed in myself for not being able to finish, and I'm still hoping that I can wake up and the race will be tomorrow. I would like to say thank you to well everyone! I know a lot of people were tracking me, looking for me to crush the race and cheering every step of the way. I'm sorry I could not pull through for everyone, but I did feel a world of support from every single one of you during the race. I would like to send a special thanks to my mom, dad, and Barbie for joining me in Lake Placid and taking such great care of me before, during, and even more so after the race. I don't even want to imagine what the race would have been like without any of you there; thank you SO much! I also have to thank my trainer Cami who started working with me at the end of March and whipped me into perfect shape for the race; I was well prepared for the event, and I'm only going to come back stronger. Thank you also to my roommates, and family who helped with the puppies, dinner, my sanity, and other things during my most bizarre training routines.

On a good note: I am signed up for Lake Placid Ironman 2012 (361 days, 5 hours, 19 minutes), I have the 1/2 Ironman at Poconos on October 2nd, and I'm looking for more with a vengeance. PS My goal times for next year are even more ridiculous being that I was on pace and feeling good enough to beat my goal times this year. If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try again

I have many other stories about the race: days leading up, the morning of, swimming without a wetsuit, being part of a school of 2800 fish in my best swim performance yet, the amazing story of NY Firefighter Matt Long, and much more.

The Point of No Return...

...when you decide that there is no way you will turn back, quit, give up, no matter what! I went for my last bike ride the other day on my bike until I see it at Lake Placid. Needless to say I forgot about the weather of Colorado Springs where rain comes over Pike's Peak out of nowhere in the spring and summer months. Climbing on my normal loop through the Air Force Academy, I realized that the inevitable storm would commence as I would reach the descent where I normally hit 50mph.

This is when I realized I have officially hit the point of no return. I started thinking about everything that could go wrong: a car clipping me, losing traction at high speed and get launched into a guard rail, run over by the bucks staring at me on the side of road, miss judging a corner on the road, or anything else you can possibly think of. Thank you Tour De France for implanting these thoughts into my head. The funny part of this is, cars on back roads attempt to swurve into runners more than cyclists. This might be a problem just in Colorado Springs, but I've never had a problem with cars hating runners anywhere else.

With all of this going through my mind, I realized there is no way I'm not racing in Lake Placid on July 24, 2011. If I crash my bike, I'll buy/rent/borrow another one. If I break a leg or an arm, I'll get an air cast or something and tape it up. I was watching the Ironman 2010 World Championship, and there was a lady who did the marathon with a boot on her left foot because she suffered a stress fracture weeks before the race. Of course now I'm only encouraged to do the same if I ever find myself in a similar situation. So what I'm saying is I'm past the point of no return, which in actuality occurred when I signed up for the race, and refreshed it when I ran my first marathon, swam 2.4 miles in the pool, and rode a century in Denver.

Now what everyone should realize is the chances of any of those things happening are slim to nil, and I'm just freaking myself out because well if I don't, who will. My apologies to anyone I may have worried, and to ease your mind, I did receive my my RoadId this past week in the mail which has my name, birthday, emergency contacts, and a message, "I fell and can't get up, put me on bike or call:". So if god forbid, anything happen to me, I'll be well taken care of.

6 days, 5 hours, 41 minutes

Nobody likes you when you're 23... What's My Age Again?

This past weekend was my longest workout weekend before my first Ironman, and now the taper begins. There were a lot of positive and some negative moments, especially during my 3 hour run. The goal of this run was to correct my nutrition during a long run, for my last few runs my legs cramped up after 1 1/2 hours. Little did I know that other problems would arise.

With a new plan for nutrition I surged through my run carrying plenty of Hammer Endurolyte pills, GU, 2 small water bottles, and a 2L camelback full of Gatorade. I sipped on my camelback throughout the entire run, and I replenished with a GU gel and 2 Endurolyte pills every 45 minutes. With this new plan I made it through a 3 hour run, 21 miles, 1200ft of climbing, averaging 8:32/mile without even a simple muscle cramp. Success and definitely prepared for the Ironman in these regards.

So what was the major problem? Why did Blink 182's "What's My Age Again" play over and over in my head. Maybe this happened because I have ADD, amused by prank phone calls, act like I'm still in freshman year, but my friends say I should act my age... what's my age again? About four years ago I made a few bad decisions to say the least. After tearing my ACL and meniscus in a couple of shots, made a decision to hobble around on a soccer field 3 days before surgery in a coed indoor soccer game. Three and a half months after surgery, I jumped back onto the field fearlessly and re-tore unhealed meniscus in the same knee. Playing through that pain for another year and a half I finally had surgery to scope the knee. This is apparently a common trait for Tarrant soccer players, and are decisions I wish I made differently when I was 23.

At about mile 3, some little alien creature was hammering on my knee consistently until about mile 19, but this pain never escalated. Now the real test was on. I would cycle through the same questions over and over. Am I maintaining the same pace? What's my pain threshold? If I'm in pain like this on a 21 mile run, how's it going to be at Lake Placid after everything else? Can I finish the Ironman in the time I desire or even finish? Should I have a roommate pick me up and try again tomorrow? I don't have answers to all of these questions, but I did finish my run and in a reasonable time at elevation. My endurance session became a mental training session. I do know that unless a gigantic alligator sneaks up on me in Lake Placid, I will finish the race.

Now I'm in the homestretch where I need to basically stay healthy, keep going through the motions, and keep confident in my training. Right now I think my biggest mistake on race day would b something like running the marathon with my bicycle helmet on.

16 Days, 5 Hours, 33 Minutes

To Fart or Not to Fart... Seriously What's the Question

So this may just be because there is a lot of Schuylkill River floating around in my belly still, or because my workouts have been pretty long and my digestive system well just super screwed up, but "To Fart or Not to Fart?" is a serious question that has come up during many of my workouts.

I usually make sure I poop before every workout, mainly so I know I have my body emptied out before going for an uber long workout. Sometimes this just isn't enough and you end up in an awkward position where you have to fart, but you must ask yourself, "Is this only going to be a fart?"

Yesterday in the pool I was 1/2 way into my 1.5hr swim workout, ready to let out a gigantic bubbly air pocket, so I asked the question "Should I or should I not fart?" Despite how entertaining bubbles can be in a pool when you're with your friends (probably not friends of the opposite sex that you hope are attracted to you), the answer when swimming is "You better not!" Luckily, I made the decision not to, for multiple reasons:
1. You don't want that floating around at all, especially when you're mouth has the potential to be open
2. You want to be able to swim in that pool again someday
3. It's an immediate workout stopper
4. Gross, yuck, ew, disgusting, gross, gross, GROSS!

What you should do is stop your workout, and get yourself to be bathroom as soon as you can if there is any question of an unpleasant surprises. What I did was just simply refuse to fart. I figured if I held in that air pocket maybe it'll keep my butt higher in the water and reduce my drag. Unfortunately this was quite uncomfortable for about 45 more minutes also.

For some reason this is an easier risk when you are on a run, especially when you are half way on an out and back run in the middle of nowhere without a bathroom/building insight. I never have this problem when I run, but I know of a few people that have come back from runs without their shirt, sock(s), or glove(s) in order to take care of this problem (Haha you know who you are).

So in conclusion, do whatever you think you feel comfortable with, and whatever you do just remember, there's no pooping in the pool, accidental or not. We can't have Bill Murray running around cleaning up pools whenever we want.

 22 days 22 hours 27 minutes... i should have waited 5 more minutes