Left.Right.Repeat - CLoSED for the season - will reopen Jan 2013 (Page 41)

Kathy got into Arizona next year!!

The race sold out in 40 seconds

Did anybody else get in?

And I need suggestions on where to stay. Still can't believe I got in!

Kathy - most of the close hotels are blocked right now. Look for something near Rio Salado and Mill in Tempe.

I thought y'all might appreciate reading my friend Kaitlin's race report. It includes a reference to our own Marianne.
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It’s the day of the race y’all, the day of the race.

“Ain’t No Easy Way” woke me up this morning at 2:00 for my first “feeding” of the day. At 4:30, “Joy to the World” woke me for what would prove to be one hell of a day.

Dad and I left the hotel around 5:15 to get ready for the race. I aired up my bike tires, double checked everything, filled my water bottles with water (Thanks Sherpa Deb!) and was body marked. After that I dropped my special needs bags off at their designated locations and walked up to Mike Reilly, the Voice of Ironman, to introduce myself and let him know that I would be hearing his voice again later today. It was great to shake his hand.

Once I got everything situated, I headed over to a designated tree to meet Dad, Bryan and Sherpa Deb for a pre-race counseling session and some last minute advice. “Have fun.” “Enjoy the day.” “Don’t worry about anyone else’s race but yours. You’re not running in their shoes and they’re not running in yours.” “Take a deep breath, relax, and do this.” “This is your day.” It’s hard to remember exactly what was said because I was so geeked up that it was hard to control anything. When it was about time for the athletes to congregate near the swim start, Bryan gave me a big hug and said, “The next time I hug you, you’ll be an Ironman.” Good grief I certainly hope so… Bryan and Debbie went up to the bridge and I got one last hug and some final words of encouragement from Dad. That was the first of many times I would get emotional during the day.

During the race, I carried 2 beads with me in support of an organization called Beads of Courage (www.beadsofcourage.org). Founded a number of years ago by a pediatric oncology nurse in Phoenix, the goal of the organization is to help ease the fear children face when battling a serious illness by giving them a tangible representation of what they have been through and how they survived. Every time a child has some sort of treatment done they receive a bead: a white bead every time they have a chemo treatment, a brown bead for hair loss, a yellow bead for an overnight stay in the hospital, etc. There are also special beads, known as courage beads, for kids that go above and beyond in their battle. Bryan, the Texas ambassador for this organization, bought me 2 matching beads to carry with my on my Ironman journey. I will mail one back to the organization with a story of what the bead went through and I get to keep one as a reminder of those children. If you get a chance, watch this video… http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=7143083n&tag=cbsnewsVideoAre... />
I had the beads in place, suited up and was ready to go. I stood in transition with 2,500 of my closest friends waiting to be allowed onto the pier to jump in the water. It was a very odd sensation to feel alone and solitary when surrounded by so many other people. The earplugs made everything sound muffled and it was difficult to hear exact words or phrases. It was all just a murmur but there was a palpable feeling of excitement. When it was my turn, I stepped up to the edge of the pier, counted to 3 and jumped in.

Good, not as cold as I thought. Smart choice to do the practice swim on Saturday. Check my goggles, check my swim cap. All good. Ok, now, find a kayak. Done. 3…2…1…BOOM. There go the professional men. Damn they’re fast. BOOM. There go the professional women. They’re fast too. Focus. Ok, I’m supposed to be somewhere in the middle of the pack on the left side. I think I’m a little too close to the front, but I don’t think I can change that now. Look up to the bridge to see if I can recognize anyone. I know they can’t recognize me, I’m only one of several hundred with a pink race cap and a black wetsuit. The National Anthem starts playing. This is my favorite part of any sporting event. Soak in the moment. “God, please give me the strength to complete the daunting task in front of me.” “ONE MINUTE TO GO” yells Mike Reilly. Oh goodness, here we go. 3…2…1…BOOM.
And we’re off…

Many people compare the mass swim start at an Ironman to being in a washing machine. I can certainly understand that although I would argue that it’s more like being in the Ultimate Fighter Championship inside of a washing machine.

Elbow to the chest, foot to the face, someone grabs my leg, someone is swimming on top of me, more elbows, more feet, more fighting. It’s 100 yards into the race and I don’t think I’m going to make it. I’m drinking way too much drainage ditch water and not breathing enough air. Just try to find a rhythm: 1,2,breathe, 1, 2, breathe, 1, 2, breathe, 1, 2, ow! Elbow to the back, 1,2, breathe. Oh look, we’re already past the office buildings, I wonder why MetLife doesn’t have their name on the building. 1,2, breathe. I hope those beads are doing ok. Just keep swimming. One more yellow buoy down. You’re doing great, Kaitlin, you can do this. Holy crap! You are doing this! 1,2,breathe. Ok, swim to that orange kayak. Wait…that’s not a kayak that’s the turn buoy. God Bless America. Oh no, too many people. Here comes the spin cycle. 1,2, ow! 1,2, sonofa… 1,2, wait a second, I’m not swimming anymore and I’m still turning around the buoy. Thanks guys. 1,2, gasp for air. Ok, check your watch. Crap…it stopped. Good thing this is the first event. 7:38am. Get it girl! That’s great! Keep that pace. You’re going to finish the swim. Just. Keep. Going. 1, 2, breathe. Left, right, repeat, repeat. 1,2, OW! Seriously dude? Is that necessary? Breathe Kaitlin, relax. You got this. Remember to glide, lengthen your stroke, use your whole arm. Look! There’s the stadium and the bridge! Get to the bridge dude, get to the bridge. Ow, crap! What was that? A Charlie horse, really? Right now? But I ate a banana for breakfast. Not cool. Ok, just relax, don’t think about it, relax your leg, it’ll go away. 1,2, breathe. 1,2, breathe. Whew, ok, I think it’s better…nope. Just kidding. Ok, float on your back and try to massage it out. Plenty of time. This might make it difficult to ride the bike. Whatever. What does Dory the fish say? Just keep swimming. Good. Sing that for a while. 1,2, breathe. 1,2, breathe. That bridge isn’t getting any closer. 1,2, breathe. I wonder what the support team is doing now. I hope they’re drinking Bloody Mary’s and having French toast for breakfast. I’d like a Bloody Mary… Focus Kaitlin. 1,2, breathe. Look, the bridge is so close. You’re going to make it. Use those elbows. I’m glad I learned that skill in cross-country. Never thought I’d need to fight my way through a swim, but hey, glad I knew how. 1,2, breathe. Another orange buoy. I hear Mike Reilly’s voice. I’m going to make it. Remember, swim onto the stairs. Ah! Air!! Lots of it! I can breathe it all I want! Take that Tempe Town Lake!

As I swam onto the stairs, 2 volunteers basically lifted me off the first step and helped me to the top. Even though a million things were swirling through my head, I tried to remember what Dad and Bryan told me about the strippers, the wetsuit strippers that is: Don’t stop at the front and find a big guy to yank the wetsuit off. I stared down the line of volunteers: skinny girl, skinny girl, skinny boy, cute, burly guy…yep. I choose you. I pointed at him, he pulled the sleeves off my arms, yelled at me to lay down, and he wrestled me out of the wetsuit. Thank you! Call me maybe?
After running through transition to get my gear bag, I stepped into the hot, steamy and overcrowded transition tent to get ready for the bike. Find a volunteer, find a volunteer, find a volunteer. I found a very nice lady who helped me get all changed to go out on the bike. Thank you Peggy!

Sunscreen? Check. Helmet? Check. Bike? Check. It’s go time!

The bike course in Arizona is 3 loops, a short trip through town followed by a long trip down the Bee Line Highway. Just 6, 19 mile bike rides. No big deal. Going out, I was running on pure adrenaline. Holy crap! I was on the bike segment of an Ironman! The swim was behind me and I was ready to get this 112 mile ride behind me! Going out on the first loop the wind was in my face. It wasn’t too strong, but the entire first half of the loop is uphill. It’s called a false flat. It looks flat most of the time, but it’s actually slightly uphill. I averaged about 14 miles an hour going out on the Bee Line and about 27mph going slightly downhill with a tailwind coming back. The first loop was pretty uneventful…I had to stop twice to go to the bathroom, but that’s a good sign. I was hydrated. When I got to the turn-around point at the corner of Rio Salado and Mill Ave, I saw my support team. Mom, Dad, Kathi and Jeanie were all there holding signs and wearing matching t-shirts. Yes, matching t-shirts that said “Team Elledge” on the front. I almost started crying again, but I bottled that emotion to use later. I can’t say as many positive things about the second loop. Those Team Elledge shirts carried me through the first half of the loop, but I was on my own on the second half. My shoulders started to tighten up and my butt started to get sore. Just. Keep. Going.

I’ve found that when things get tough on the bike, I find a song and start singing to distract myself from the pain. I believe that stems from my very first spin class when I studied in Spain. That spin class was the hardest group ex class I had ever done and I sang along to the music to distract me from the pain. During the race I sang a few Spanish tunes, but mostly I had “All I Do Is Win” stuck in my head. I think there was some Brad Paisley and John Michael Montgomery mixed in, but I was so delirious I can’t be sure.

The second loop was definitely when I got to the “dark place” of the bike section. I kept thinking how nice it would be to stop and talk to “Team Elledge” for just a minute, but I could see how that would lead to me sitting on the curb and not getting up again. At that time, it didn’t sound like too bad of an option. Just. Keep. Going. I saw a sign that said “You trained longer than Kim Kardashian was married.” That made me chuckle. Good. Keep smiling. Positive energy.

Finally I was on the third and final lap of the bike course. Just a few more miles to go. The fact that it was the last lap was comforting in and of itself. I kept thinking that if I could only finish the bike I would get to run a marathon. My favorite event was up next. I just had to get to the end of the bike to make it to that run. And I did. The third lap was pretty uneventful. I rode out and back with a couple of bathroom breaks before I was powering through town to get my butt off that bike seat and my feet on the road. I jumped off Big Blue and a volunteer took her from me while I grabbed my run transition bag.

Back in the transition tent I found another volunteer to help me with the run transition and in no time I was on my way. I saw Jeanie and Kathi as I ran out of the tent and I was on my way, 26.2 miles separated me from the finish line.

After much pre-race coaching from Dad and Bryan, I knew that I needed to intentionally slow my pace in the first few miles so as to not blow all of my energy in the first part of the marathon. I had to let my legs transition and keep some energy in the tank for later. That was a lot easier said than done. When I got out of transition the crowd was cheering for me, people were giving me high fives and telling me such positive things, it’s hard to run slow! Just after the first mile I passed a friend, Mary Ann, and she looked at me and said, “Kaitlin, you’re going to be an Ironman today. Even if you have to walk the rest of the course you are going to make it. I am so happy for you. Go get ‘em girl.” That was fantastic motivation. I could walk the rest of the course and still finish. I would still get a medal and a finisher’s t-shirt. That’s what I was after right? To become an Ironman? Yeah buddy.

After I passed Mary Ann I started slowing a bit according to plan and figured that in a few miles I would speed it up and hit my “race pace” for the remainder of the marathon. Boy was I wrong. The run course is roughly a figure 8 and there are three loops. The first part of the figure 8 is a little shorter than the second part. I ran the majority of the first loop and felt pretty good. My muscles were a little tired and my hips were tight, but I was surviving. I saw Bryan and Debbie at the beginning of my second loop and Bryan gave me some good words of encouragement. I quickly spotted Jeanie and Kathi again with their bright posters and Team Elledge shirts. I realized then that Mom and Dad were volunteering at the finish line. Ok, I got this. 2 more loops. Remember, this is the fun part. You like this part.

Again with the second loop. I didn’t make it far past Team Elledge before things started heading south. Everything started hurting. My legs were tight. My shoulders and back started barking at me again and my abs decided they wanted to join the party too. I started running as long as I could possibly stand it and when my body just could not go any more, I stopped and walked for a short time before I willed myself to run again. While my ultimate goal was to finish, there was a voice in my head reminding me that I had to beat Dad’s time from last year. By the time the sun had set around 5:30 I had run about 10 miles. I can do this. Just. Keep. Going. Keep running, Kaitlin. You can do this.

I finished the first part of the figure 8 and saw Team Elledge on the bridge waiting for me. It was so encouraging to see them. They were someone I could look for and know they were cheering for me specifically. All of the spectators were supportive, but there’s nothing like knowing there is a specific group of people there to cheer for you. It’s powerful stuff. I made my way around the second half of the loop, through the park, around the horse stables and up the giant hill on the back side of the course. By the time I got to mile 14 right before the big hill I thought I might lose my lunch. I stopped and walked nearly a full mile. I only started running when was going downhill. I made it to the rockin’ aid station at the bottom of the hill and had some chicken broth and a pretzel. Those two things were without a doubt, the best things I ate all day. The broth was a different flavor and had something my body needed desperately, sodium. The pretzel had a different texture than anything I had eaten all day. It wasn’t goo. Thank goodness. I looked at my watch to check the time. Crap. I’m getting slower. I have to keep going. Don’t let Dad beat you. I know that in the grand scheme of things, it shouldn’t matter, but it sure as hell matters to me.

Things started hurting pretty bad at that point. I was walking a lot more and couldn’t even fathom having to do the whole loop again. “This is some sort of cruel joke,” I thought. “Who in the hell thought this was a good idea?” But I kept going. One foot in front of the other. Left, right, repeat. Finally I was back in the park around people again. People smiled and cheered as I ran by and it was all I could do to choke back the tears. The kids out on the course were the best. They were not the loudest, but they were certainly the sweetest. Hearing that little voice cheer for a total stranger: “You’re doing so good!” “You’re awesome.” Talk about being an emotional basketcase…

When I completed the second loop there was Team Elledge: Mom, Kathi and Jeanie on one side of the path and Dad on the other. I stopped and walked for a little while with Dad before I burst into tears. “Everything hurts.” He put his arm around me and told me it was going to be okay. “This is the tough part of the race,” he said, “This is the mental part. Count light posts. Run one and walk one. You can do this sweetheart. I love you… Now start running.” Ok, he’s right. I can do this. One step at a time. About a hundred yards later I saw Bryan and Debbie. Bryan started running alongside of me and asked how I was doing. My response was the same, “everything hurts.” His response was very similar to Dad’s but a little more pointed, “This is the mental part of the race. You’re just going to have to fight through it and harden up. Walk through every aid station.” Well alrighty then. This is the mental part. This is the time when I get to use every bit of emotion I’ve bottled up over the past year. Here we go. I counted light posts. Run 4, walk 1. Run to the street sign and walk to the cone. Run to the rest station. I shuffled through the first part of the loop and saw Kathi, Jeanie, and Dad again. Dad looked at me and said, “I know what you’re trying to do. Just run your race.” How does he know me so well? Of course I want to beat his time, but did it show on my face that clearly? Apparently so. I took a sip of Jeanie’s Pepsi in an effort to find some sort of pick-me-up. No dice. Just. Keep. Going. About 6 miles to go. Anyone can run 6 miles, right? I knew I had a little extra time to finish before 9:30pm, but not much. I had to do a little more running and a little less walking. I made sure I was careful on the dark parts of the course. Stepping off a curb wrong or landing on a rock and twisting my ankle was not an option at this point. 4 miles to go. Here we go, time to climb the hill. Let’s jog up the hill. Ok, nope. Let’s not. Walking is good. Save as much energy as I you can. You'll need it in a second. One step at a time. Just. Keep. Going. 3 miles to go. I ran down the hill to the rockin rest station for another sip of chicken broth before taking off again, one light post at a time. I can hear him. I can hear Mike Reilly from all the way across the river. 2 miles to go. Here we go. I got a drink of water and Perform and knew I had to get moving. Dig deep Kaitlin, dig deep. You can do this, but you have to go. Now. This is just like a cross-country race. 2 miles. Anyone can run 2 miles. I was able to run most of the next mile before I had to walk for a few steps. Then, unexpectedly, there was the mile marker. One mile to go. Go Kaitlin. Just go. Turn it on and get there. The only way to make the pain stop is to finish. There are no other options. Let’s do this. How bad do you want a medal? How bad do you want a big hug from Mom and Dad at the finish line? GO. Run. faster. Ignore the hurt. I finally made it to the split: 2nd and 3rd loop to the right, Finish Line to the left. I’ll be taking a left this time, thank you very much. Wait, this is actually happening. I’m actually finishing for real. This is not a dream. This is the day. This is the time when I become and Ironman...Badass.

In the parking lot before I turned to go into the chute, I put my hands over my face and just started sobbing. I actually did it. I was going to finish the Ironman. “Thank you God for giving me the strength to get here.” Now soak up the finish line. It was like a dream. I slowed down to “airplane” and high-five everyone. Look! There’s Kathi and Jeanie. Then I could here it, Mike Reilly’s voice, “Everyone, this is Kaitlin Elledge. This is her first Ironman. Kaitlin Elledge from Addison, Texas, you are an Ironman.” I leapt into the air with a giant yell and a fist pump before crossing the finish line to get my hug from Mom and Dad. Dad put the medal around my neck and I was finished.

I cried on and off for the next half-hour or so. I just couldn’t believe it. I got a huge hug from Tracy Tucker, one of the weekend warriors in the book You Are An Ironman. Then Jeanie and Kathi were there to give me hugs and Sherpa Deb was there! She gave me a huge hug. Bryan ran the last loop of the run with one of his mentees and wasn’t able to watch me finish. I know he was there in spirit though. True to form, as soon as I saw him, he gave me an IronHug. I did it. I actually did it.

Oh, by the way, my total time? 14:23:16. Faster than my dad, but not by much.

The rest of the night was a blur. There was a massage, extra salty french fries, recovery drink, dinner and lots of hugs. We went back to the finish line to cheer on the final finishers. We were banging on the chute and cheering people in from afar, hoping they would make it before midnight. The final finisher of the evening finished in 16:59:55 and just like me, she is an Ironman.

Chill Bumps!

Mark - you were awesome. Seeing you on the back side of the loop - on top of the mountain was perfect.

Seeing you after your finish was priceless. Your joy was POURING out of you. Bubbling over the top.

Great job!

I too am in the process of writing the race report. A day and a half driving home did not allow much time to recuperate, but I am getting there. I owe Caitlin the apology, cuz it was me Bryan was supporting. Though I think the word she should have used is "mentals" rather than "mentees". The short story - I think there were 2 or 3 people that thought it was a good idea to see if they could drown this slow-moving whale, and I took a beating in the water. Got kicked in the right thigh hard enough to bother my ride. Bike was slower than I wanted, and coming into T2 it was lots of lower back pain and the right leg. I thought I might have screwed up the IT band trying to compensate for the soreness. Coming out of T2, I felt like I needed to get the heart rate down, and before too long I realized the run wasn't going to happen well at all. As Bryan said to me that night, the good thing was that I had put time in the bank with a reasonable swim and bike. It is definitely a different experience finishing so close to midnight versus my 14:53 finish in Florida. The excitement is unbelievable. But nevertheless, I don't want to repeat that.I am happy for those that finished. Bill, your death march statement is much appreciated. I am glad Briana had the wonderful finish she did, and I was happy to see Mark out on the hill.I am glad you enjoyed that list, Ann. Some of it close to home.Thanks to all of you this season for the support. More to come later.

Phil - finish line updated. Great race. Get well.

Infinit's annual sale tomorrow. Up to 50% off. Timing matters. Be ready at noon eastern.

My race report has been posted in the Race Reports section (I'm not smart enough to link it).  I'll be posting it, along with days leading up to the race, photos and days after the race on my blog in the next day or two.  I still need to look at the pictures.  But, if you want the basics, it's there.  Enjoy.

This is not a dig at anyone in general, but did I miss some of the race reports?

HA HA Billy!  My race report is posted now!  I waited to publish it so I could present it to you for Christmas!  It's my Christmas gift just for you Billy!!  Merry Christmas!

Actually when I read your post it reminded me that I needed to publish it...I kind of forgot that part!  LOL  I hope it makes sense because I didn't read over it.  Good luck reading it!

Edited by amyleigh 2012-12-14 9:50 PM

Pam - you bet. I will add two.