up at 4:15. ate some oatmeal, tried to get in as many calories as possible for the long day ahead. went through my checklist: ankle band and chip - check; goggles and swim cap - check; helmet, bike shoes, shades, number belt, gels - check; running shoes, socks, visor - check.

breathe - in/out.

leave at 5. walk down the road and lo and behold - busses. a pox on disney for misleading us. rick carries my bag. it feels a tad chilly, but i remind myself that it's going to get hot fast once the sun comes up.

arrive at transition. had been there early to set up bike in a good location (on the aisle) which i'm happy about, but everyone else wanted to get as close to the aisle, too, so space is tight. towel down, running gear in back, bike gear in front, helmet on aerobars, shades and gels in helmet. squish tires, all good. head for bodymarking.

the transition area is huge. 2000 bikes, 2000 people. i see one duo competing in the physically challenged division - a blind guy and his leader.

bodymarking is toward the beach. number 2034, age 35. there it is:




the beach is quite buggy. we hang out, wait for the sun to come up so i can see the course. the sun shades the sky. more and more people arrive on the beach. the clock ticks toward 6:30.



at 6:30 the pros go off. followed by the blind man and his aide. then six more waves until it's my turn.

there's no area to warm up in, to feel the water and loosen up. as soon as they let us - women, 35-39 - into the corral most head for the water to get a feel for it. we have three minutes. i get in, swim a few strokes. when i get out everyone feels the chill of the air - but i know that's about the last time i'll shiver for the rest of the day:



i find a good spot. it's a beach start - start on the beach, run into the water. cannon goes off and i run in.



i have no way of knowing how long the swim is taking me, but that's okay. the swim is no thinking - four-five strokes, look up - spot the buoy, look for people in my way, head down, four-five strokes, look up - there's the buoy - avoid the breaststroker. kick a little harder when someone comes up and grabs my legs. that's the turn buoy, turn. stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, look.

finally start seeing the beach when i look up. it's good to see the beach. the path is getting a bit congested, but i try to find a good line and just put my head down and swim.

rick gets me coming out of the water:


long barefoot run - 200 yards or so - into transition. rick runs along side me, tells me i was around 40/42 minutes, that i look good. i take my time in transition and he gets a shot:



i run out with my bike - yes, smiling as i see rick:


my bike computer and clock is set to 0 so i can see the miles and time tick by. the course is crowded, but i feel good, comfortable. the first ten miles feel like nothing. the second ten miles are weird, cloudy, misty, almost cool. then start the hills - who said there are no hills in florida? there are, one or two. i drop my chain on one of them, but manage to get it back. my bib number has my name on it and as people pass they say "looking good, debra" and "keep it up, debra." i work, but try not to work too hard.

30 miles. toss an empty bottle, grab a new one at the aid station.

40 miles. stand, stretch. relax a bit on a little downhill. try not to lose too much momentum. feeling some chafing.

i am consistent with my nutrition - my gets, hydrating. this is good - the run is still to come.

mile 50. 6 more miles. piece of cake. heading back into disney now. stand, stretch, take it easy. give the legs a little break. i look at my clock and realize i'm going to be in just a few minutes over three hours. happy.

bike dismount - then long long long chute into transition:





helmet off, bike shoes off, socks on, shoes on, visor on, turn bib so number/name is in front.



dart into port-o-potty and head out on the run.


run. aid stations every 3/4 mile. i run solidly to the first one. this is all on pavement/blacktop. this one has good 80's music going. head off, aiming for station 2.

before getting to station 2, go off road. don't like this grass, ruts, uneven crap and neither do my feet. try to keep a consistent pace. station 2 is staffed by lookalikes. marilyn monroe hands me some water and i take an icy cold sponge from dorothy.

it's hot.

on to station 3, on the grass i hate. this stretch is an out and back and is totally exposed, no shade. i trudge, cursing the terrain. finally see station three, at the turnaround, we go over a timing mat and grab some nutriton. trudge back along the course, spotting those who i know will soon be passing me.

station 4. still on grass. water, ice, orange, gu. try to run on grass to station 5.

still no shade.

right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot.

station 5! and then back on pavement and shade. i can pick it up a little. except my stomach is not happy. no! stomach unhappiness go away. grab some coke at station 6 and then i know 7 is at the end of the first loop and i'll see rick as i'm willing my stomach to feel better.



chat with rick a bit, he talks while i grab some goodies at the aid station. tell him my stomach is a bit unhappy, that i hate the grass, but that i feel okay. and head off to loop two.

pavement through station 1- good music. the lookalikes at station 2 are wilting and hot in their costumes. they are thanked profusely for their services.

death march to station 3 down the grassy exposed area. realize stomach is feeling better. try to keep a consistent pace. try to run more than walking. i hate this section.

no cups at the aid station, a volunteer pours water into my mouth.

turn around and see those behind me. continue cursing terrain. station 4 passes. i grab something at every station. this is good. i look forward to station 5 because i'll be back on pavement.

others around me curse it as well. it's uneven. and i leave the best spots for the people who are really motoring, i try to stay out of their way.

station5 - pavement. run to station 6 and on to the turnaround.

loop three. last one. less than 4.5 miles to go. i can so do that.

starting loop three i spot some guy with legs cramping. people are asking if he's okay. he doesn't want help - he wants to finish. he's the second near-collapse i've seen.

run to the first station. happy, good music.

on to the lookalikes.

and then the feet start burning. the grass is doing them in. i start to wonder whether i have open blisters on the bottoms of my feet. i hope not. that would suck. i trudge when i can and do a lot of walking. i walk with woman from indiana who is on her last lap. as we run down the grassy paths with a little water-filled canal to the side she jokes that if they put fake alligaters in there they'd probably get people to run faster. this is her first half. she didn't think florida would be so hot in may.

we walk, we chat. i have no idea what kind of time i'm making - i know i'm way over 6.5 hours and i don't care. at this point 7 would do me just fine. i will finish.

my feet hurt.

why am i doing this again?

aid station - 1.1 more miles. oh! i can do that! back on pavement i try to run but my feet object. walk walk walk. nancy goes on ahead. run a little - ouch. feet. i was expecting quads, but no - the bottoms of my feet.

finally. rick spots me, hurting.


and tells me that he's running down the chute with me. the chute is long. i go over a mat that tells the annoucer my name and i'm "coming down to the finish line." spectators point to rick and say "did that guy do this in flip-flops?" rick will be in my finish line shot because i finished. I.FINISHED. someone removes my chip. i get my medal and smile. i grab my finisher's t-shirt and sit down and take off my shoes. my feet are battered and dirty, but no blisters.



wait in line for massage. in line someone works on my arms a bit but that's making me dizzy and lightheaded. i drink, i sit. i'm done. i'm toast.

then comes tag-team massage. so good. really. 5 minutes, but thorough - college students training for exercise physiology and whatnot. they tell me my *** is tight. um, yes, well. it just did some work.




we get someone to take a picture:


and i pose, teary, with my medal:




Edited by debs 2006-05-23 9:39 AM