SWIM – Had a solid swim. Got tossed around a bit, including what had to be an INTENTIONAL kidney punch from some older guy. Didn’t let any of it phase me. Managed to swim straight, with decent sighting, but had a tough time getting into a good pack to draft. Stayed focused and in the present the whole time.

T1 – Smooth sailing. Had lots of volunteers helping me...they practically dressed me! It was awesome.

BIKE – The start of the bike course is freaking awesome. There are so many people lining Main St, cheering! Especially if you’re a girl! Throughout the day, I had SO many people screaming for me, “GO GIRL!” or “Yay CHICK!!!!”. Headed out on the bike course, and had a tough time getting into the groove. Its hard to not get really pumped with all the crowds, so it was a bit of a battle to ride my pace and keep my heart rate from sky-rocketing. Got passed by a number of men right off the bat, and then by a couple of girls...but Sara’s advice of “either they are stronger cyclists than you are, in which case....good for them, and there’s nothing you can do about that OR, they are going to blow up and you’ll pass them later on” made it easy to focus only on my race. About an hour in, I hit my groove. The weather was perfect, aside from a bit of headwind out to Oliver. Saw quite a few large packs of drafters, which made the non-drafters bond with each other. Made friends with a 42 year old guy from Vancouver, who’s done Ultramans and Ironman Hawaii. As the bike ride continued, my thoughts were mainly focused on a) trying to see Sara at the out-and-back portion, which would indicate I was having a good ride, and b) trying to get to Yellow Lake (about 75% of the way there) still feeling good and c) wanting the bike to be over, mainly because then the race was all in my own hands (and not the hands of the bike-problem gods!)
As soon as I hit the out-back, there was Sara. Check. I yelled out to her, but had a few bikes blocking me, so she couldn’t see me. There were markers every 20k on the bike, so I had started to do a bit of math in my head, but didn’t want to count my chickens before they hatched, so continued to focus on the moment.
By the time I neared Yellow Lake, I wasn’t sure if I was feeling good. In hindsight, I’m sure I wasn’t. I wasn’t feeling TERRIBLE, but the “did I just push too hard?” thoughts were creeping in. When we did that ride in training, around Yellow Lake, Sara had said, “This is the point in the race when you want to feel good. If you race smart, you’ll pass people here that went too hard. Visualize feeling good at this point.” So, during the race, I visualized that I felt great, and its like I pretended so hard, it came true. I had a solid climb up the last few hills, and then cruised downhill FAST for the last 20k. I knew I was going to beat my 6:00 bike goal...but anytime I had that thought, I reminded myself, “Anything can happen...don’t celebrate yet.”

T2 – smooth sailing again. Probably could’ve shaved a few seconds, but thought I should use the portapotty there, as opposed to having to wait for one on the run.

RUN- the ONLY thing that kept me going right off the start was the fact that I had friends/family watching the run. It took everything I had in me to not walk. I was not sure if I’d be able to pull it together. Legs felt heavy, stomach wasn’t happy....Then, around the 5k mark, I started to bounce back. A quote from a reputable coach was going through my head, about there being TWO times in every Ironman that it will take everything you have to not quit. One down. The run is where it gets eventful. I couldn’t believe how many people were walking already! Last year, I figured it was because of the time of day, but the people that were walking were people that had posted solid swim and bike times....but were obviously suffering from poor pacing, or other ailments. On the first half of the run, I don’t know that I had any real co-herent thought. I was pretty focused on the moment. I remember thinking if I saw Sara, I wanted to tell her how awesome I thought she was. Soon after that, I passed my friend Adrienne, desperately in search of soup at the aid station ( a sign of trouble, that early in the run). Mumbled some words of encouragement and kept on trucking. Started to see the top male pros on their way back into town. Shortly after that, at the same moment I ran into another friend, Kent, I saw Sara on her way back into town. I screamed, “Sara Gross! I LOVE YOU!”. She heard me, and I think she managed a wave and a “Hey Carrie” but the memory is a bit hazy. Awhile back, behind Sara, there was some serious pro-female carnage. One girl was up-chucking every other step. I had to concentrate on not thinking about it, or I would be joining her. Shortly behind her, was another female pro letting the vomit fly in the ditch. Not helpful for a stomach that was already turning. I kept trucking one step at a time, when near the out-and-back I hear, “CARRIE MEAKIN?? Is that YOU???”. It was my old partner teacher when I was at the U of C. She was watching her brother race, and thought she’d seen me earlier. She ran with me for probably a mile, and I can’t describe how HELPFUL that was! Totally took my mind off the pain. I was concerned about getting disqualified for having a “pacer” so asked her to drop back, when I saw the officials circling. Before long, I was at the turn around point. I was feeling ok. I had to fight the urge to do the math, because I still had a long, long way to run, and at last year’s race, this is where it got ugly. I think that fear might’ve kept my pace in check. I also had planned to start taking in gels at the turn around, so I knew that having pure sugar for the first time all day would give me a huge energy kick. It also gave me something to focus on. I enjoy the taste of the gels, and I knew after taking them for an hour, I’d be on to Coke. Other than thinking about Coke, I don’t really recall having any coherent thoughts. I was totally focused on the moment. Around mile 18, I started to time my mile pace, just to make sure I was still on track, and this helped give me something to focus on. One mile at time, my pace was good. Short of a disaster, my goal time was still within reason. Then, out of nowhere, I hear the mumbling of a “good job!” and over my shoulder is Adrienne FLYING past me. The same Adrienne who was desperately in need of soup way back at the start of the run. As we rolled into town, I heard the announcer at Skaha (4-5 miles to the end) call out Adrienne’s position in the 18-24 age group, and then about 20 seconds later I hear him say, “And shortly behind Adrienne, my wife, Shannon, in the same age group...c’mon Shannon.”. I knew somehow, Adrienne had dug deep, to find another gear to take the lead over her rival. I was inspired by this, and also wanted to watch their race unfold, so I too, picked up my pace. Nowhere near what they were managing, but enough that they were within sight. I kept up this pace through town, and at some point became aware that I hadn’t hit that second low that I was expecting. I kept up the pace, please I was managing to run what felt faster for the second half, and praying no one in my age group would pass me. At that point, someone in my age group passed me. Fast. There was NO chance I could’ve kept her pace. Not too long after that, I passed someone in my AG who appeared to be blowing up. Tears, pain, walking. So I managed to hold my spot in my age group, whatever that might be. I was wishing my friends that were out on the course could give me some clue about who was where, but didn’t have the strength to ask. As I came into town, I managed to keep my Adrienne inspired pace, and it started to sink in that this was really going to happen. With about 3 miles left, I knew, that no matter what happened, even if I had to WALK, I’d be proud of my finish time. But I ran hard anyway. At the 25 mile mark, you pass the finish line and head the opposite direction down Lakeshore Drive. As soon as we hit this point, another girl in my AG passed me. I dug deep, and built a lead on her, but I couldn’t hold on. She passed me again with less than half a mile to go, and I spent the last 0.5 mile trying unsuccessfully to catch her. 11:01:15. I was ecstatic. Crossing the finish line this year felt like it was supposed to feel last year.