For the first time ever I had no nerves about the race. I was actually relieved (but felt for Doug) that there were no wetsuits allowed-leveled my playing field. And then the gun went off and I swam 10 strokes in super-clear race water and then I freaked out. I had a good 2 minute anxiety attack, got it together and swam the most enjoyable race swim ever. I love this distance....long enough to find your groove and go and short enough to be done before wearing out its welcome.

Aside from the mini-freak out, nothing.

Good transition.

I love riding my bike and I love this distance. I always feel strong on the bike, although I know there is lots of room for more speed and endurance. It felt good to pass people and I was so proud when I was done. Almost a half-iron man...it's close, I know it and I can feel it.



Nothing, pushed as hard I as I could. Nutrition was right on, stayed aero the entire time, no pit stops.

My T2 time is long because I hit the port-o-pottie to take off my bike top and put on my jog bra and run top. I didn't want to wear that extra jog bra layer on the swim and the bike. Added some body glide and hit the race course.

Figure out the bra/run ratio to save time.

Wow. I had no idea how hot it was and how hot I was until I got off the bike. Every mile had a station with food, ecaps, and icy cold towels. I could not have made it without those towels...which I grew to hate by the end of the race. They represented the hottest run ever and I hated needing them. It was something between 96-98 degrees and the heat coming up from the blacktop was worse. I told myself to walk as fast as possible until I cooled down a bit and then run, that never happened. Mile one, saw Doug-he looked fried-eveyone did-it was insane. On mile two I fell trying to take my ecaps...shit. Lost 1/2 of my ecaps and got mildly scraped up, tweaked my ankle (my good one). Mile three-check my watch-crap, gotta pick it up. Gotta get to mile four in 14 minutes. Try to run, crap, can't run. My legs feel fine, but the heat on my head is too much. Mile five, made my time, keep moving. Fuel belt is already empty....grab water at the aid station. Keep moving-kept repeating in my head "I want that medal, I want that medal". Mile six, losing time. Shit, pick it up, try to run. Run ten steps, walk 20. Can't even do that. Mile 7-the turn around-back the way I came. The hot, narrow band of the blacktop marked by an endless line of orange cones. Mile 8: Grabbed a new towel, take off my cap and put the towel on my head...crap, where are my sunglasses? Where are my new sunglasses? They are not on my head and not hanging from my shirt-did I leave them at the aid station? I can't remember....I started to get weepy about my freakin sunglasses before I realized I was wearing them. Mile 9: Started to convince myself I have to run or I am not going to make it....told God if he made it rain I would run all the way in. Mile 10: Slight cloud cover...run 10 steps, walk 20. Run 20 steps, walk 50. Run 10 steps...crap it is hot, I want that medal! Mile 11: ate 1/2 a banana, new towel. Walk fast, run 10 steps. Passed by the crazy lady with the socks. Mile 12: Not going to make it. You still can't stop...even if you are not going to make it, you can't stop. You are almost there. Cross that finish line....look up, no, don't too many cones ahead-no end in sight. People are leaving the race, honking, cheering for me. I am embarrased and ashamed. I am at the back-back of the pack, I know how hard I pushed on the swim and the bike and what it is taking to take each step-go faster. Feels like an episode of survivor, or some crazy survival story, not a race. Look up, more cones...and Doug. And the turn to the finish shute. I hand my race belt to Doug and he talks me into to running it in. People are still there...people are still cheering. They say my name, give me water. No medal. It's okay, It's okay, it's okay. You still finished the distance. 8:17. You are not a 1/2 IM. It's okay, it's okay, it's okay. See Doug, I have to lean my butt against a tree. He tells me how hot it is...he tells me how bad it was. He tells me I did great. I can't talk, I just want to sit. he gets me more water. People are hanging out and talking about the race...I see a few girls I passed on the bike...already relaxed and laughing. I see all the medals. Crap. Doug has already packed my transition stuff and my bike-we head to the car. Doug points out people still coming through the shute....hey, that lady got a medal. I go to the guy by the shute and tell him I finished ahead of that lady and I did not get a medal...he said "you should have" and I immediately break down and start crying. So embarrassed. He handed me my medal and I put it on. I didn't take it off until bed time.

I am not sure if it counts. All I know is that I feel like I did it. I got my medal and a finishing time on the results page. So maybe they gave a grace period...maybe they shouldn't have.

That was the best swim course ever. Great bike course. Miserable run course...who runs on a highway?

Doing this distance has taught me a lot about myself. I have decided I love this distance and want to do more 1/2's..you get to swim just the right distance, settle in on the bike and push on the run....but doing this is making me re-think my Ironman in CDA in June. I will take a couple of days to decide, but I am unsure today. I am glad, as always, that I had my best friend and my husband out there with me.

And I am proud of myself-I wanted to quit 3 times on the run. Doug saw later that 65 people (out of about 600) dropped out of the race. I am glad I wasn't one of them, but I understand why they did. As far as being the hardest thing I have ever done, this ranks right up there with having a baby. :)