They announce to get in the water and I wait, and wait. Very few of the athletes would get in. They were milling around, stalling... I felt like I was trying to negotiate around the busiest grocery store on the planet and I started to get irritated. Folks were standing at the edge, not jumping in, but not allowing others to get in either. With that irritation I changed - it was like I was in a vacuum and all of the sudden there was sound. I'm fucking Wahoo, bitches, get out of my way.

I waited, chatted with some people. Jokingly asked a guy if I could hold onto him so I could pee (either he didn't hear, understand or take the request seriously because he turned around without saying anything).

Then we were off. I breast stroked for a minute expecting the mad cacophony I've experience in other starts but it never happened. Strangely, there were very few people at the buoy line. I started crawling and aside from a few position issues with folks getting their lines right, the first 500 was pretty good. I didn't feel comfortable, but didn't feel terribly uncomfortable either. The first mile or so seemed to take a really long time, but I know my stroke was pretty good for me, so I wasn't worried about the time at all. My goal was to reach the turn around at about 1.1 miles so I could check my watch and see my time. At the turn I looked and was at about 50 minutes. The return trip I really enjoyed. Got in a zone, stroke after stroke - I've never really felt like that before and was and am completely thrilled. I felt like I wasn't working and could do it all day. I didn't even notice the suit. Was out of the water at about 140 I think (I'm not sure where the timing mats were). Standswith fist stripped me (I caught her sneaking a peek at the wahoo (j/k, I didn't catch her, but hope for her sake she got to see, because it's marvelous).


Nothing. The swim was very zen-like for me. I truly enjoyed it.

Ran to the change tend and stripped - tried not to dance naked in the tent and scare the crap out of the other men, but I hummed:

I'm bringing sexy back
Them other boys watch while I attack
If that's your girl you better watch your back
Cause she'll burn it up for me and that's a fact

Walked my bike out, got past the mount line and saw Aaron and chippy - they both recognized me and yelled (Aaron is probably the most supportive person in triathlon I know. I'll never forget him pacing me at white rock (or me spitting on a pro as she passed us).

Nothing. I was very comfortable.

First I wanted to settle in, was very happy with my pace up, but knew what was in store coming back and knew it was going to get progressively worse as I had pulled an hour by hour forecast that showed the wind going up 2mph each hour until 5:00pm.

I did see a lot of flats. This was my only real fear about the race. I did an olympic where I had two flats and my time was horrible. If I had mechanical issues, I was up the beeline without a paddle, particularly as these were loaner HED wheels that I was not that familiar with. I started a litany in my head that lasted all day

"No Flats"
"Watch the screw!"
"Oh god, everyone is flatting!"
"We're not in Texas any more toto (pavement is a way of life in Texas. If it's horizontal, pave it, I always say).
"Glass!"
"W_a_t_c_h t_h_e d_a_m_n r_o_a_d s_c_a_r_r_i_n_g Dumbass!
"Fucking TERRIBLE Road, mix in some fucking black-top, fucking desert dwelling camel lovers!!!!"

Then I made the turn and started realizing what an IM is really about. Adverse conditions. Pain. Perseverance in a big way. To say I am not aerodynamic doesn't describe it. I'm a frikken wind-scoop. The wind hit me and I said damn. Then I said it again. And again and again and again. Wow that sucked, compounded by the fact that I would have to do it 3 times in progressively worse wind. I was an hour up, and hour and a half down that fucking false flat 3 times. Ugh.

I'd yell periodically "YEA SPECTATORS," particularly to those that offered me encouragement. The crowds always got wild with a little encouragement. Heh... there so easy. :) I wonder if they new they were being manipulated to fill up the Wahoo tank? A few deranged howls of encouragement top off the Wahoo nicely.

Getting back into town and turning around was really, really exciting.

On the way back up, I really tried to pick up the pace, knowing that if I did well enough with the time in the bank from the swim I would be able to get away with blowing my wad on the bike - I could run walk the mary and still have time, which is exactly what I did.

"Watch the nail - stop figuring the number and pay attention, fuck nut!!!"

So I climb the hill and towards the top I left aero to stretch and prepare for being in aero for another hour and a half into the wind. It's turned out to be a good plan I used for the third loop as well. When I made the second turn the wind was much worse. It was demoralizing, but I trudged through it. I was no longer feeling like "bringing sexy back" so started to sing "I burn" by the toadies which fit perfectly:

Stoke the embers
Cleanse the spirit
A prayer in every spark

Feel the lick of
Bad religion
The finish and the start

In the beginning
We were smarter
'n flame was heaven-sent

Through the ages
We got stupid
Now we must repent

And I burn
I burn

Because fire is bright
Fire is clean
efficient and divine

Tooth and bone
Charms and dolls
I am free tonight

I BURN
THE AIR
YOU BREATHE

I BURN
THE AIR
YOU BREATHE

I BURN
THE AIR
YOU BREATHE

I burn
I burn
I burn

"Watch the Tumbleweed, NO FLATS! GO SPECTATORS!"

The third trip was much the same, only with more wind. Saw a couple wrecks and more flats. HARD, HARD 18 miles coming down. I started to develop some cramps in my quads and calfs, but I really didn't give a shit at this point. I vaguely recognized when I broke 100miles as my first century ride. MASH. MASH. MASH. I burnnnnnnnn. I burnnnnnnn.

Finishing, I saw my time was at 4:30 or so and I knew at that point I had it. I could run 10 miles and possibly beat 16 if I wanted to, or walk most of it if I had to and I would be fine. I sent up a silent and heartfelt thanks to the flat gods and moved on my merry way.

Rolling into the transition I saw Zilla, my wonderful Jockstrap (she told me later what I said, I didn't remember). She told me I looked good and I said, "no, YOU look good." At that point I apparently stopped to do some muscle poses, kissing my biceps and such. Thank god I didn't break out "the beach is that way" or the classic "beach balls are this round" cuz that woul dhave been silly.

Anyway, my hydration and nutrition was perfect - I never felt bloated or hungry until the last mile of the run. The support was very good and the race was well stocked the whole way through.




Go harder that first 18 maybe? Probably nothing.

When I got naked again I started humming "bring sexy back" and actually giggled. No shit, a giggle slipped out. The only way I can describe it is to say it was a verbal shart. I would have stopped it if I could, but it was too late. Unfortunately there was no TP other than time and getting the hell out of there to clean that rather embarrassing tidbit up. I looked around like it was somebody else.

For the record, I'm not a giggler. I'm a smiler (with about 20 different varieties) or a laugh-er. Welshy does not giggle.

I guess they handed me my bike? :)

I walked for the first 1/4 mile or so to try and loosen up my legs. I made the mistake of picking the bridge turn to start running at. I had not thought about the wind in terms of the run section, but that shit was still around like a bad, bad stink. Boom! the wind started when I made the turn and I wilted a bit. Damn. Walk until the direction changes.

"Suck it up, you've got enough time to walk the whole thing if needed." I did.

When I turned out of the wind I felt good and started to run. I had some small cramps still, but not too bad. I shuffled, taking my time and felt good after a little while. I ran through a nice little park with some cool kids handing out drinks and felt like maybe I could run the whole thing and do considerably better than 16. I was in pretty high spirits until I turned from that park and saw... A hill. A damn no-business-in-AZ or-around-a-lake hill in the middle of my run course.

I burn....
I burn....

I walked it and the cramps came back. At the top, I ran down the downhill and had to stop. Cramps. For the next 4-5 miles I tried to run/walk, but eeach time I ran the cramps came back stronger and stayed longer. At that point I decided to scratch the running. The benefit wasn't worth the risk and frankly I wazs getting tired of "I burn." Faster time was a dim second priority to the only time that matters: 17hours.

So I walked and walked, keeping a 15 min pace that would still get me in under 16:15 (I could do the math as I didn't have to worry about stray screws or tumbleweeds racing around like 5th graders let out of class for the year).

So I walked. Talked with people, read the inspirational signs everywhere (one said bite of more than you can chew, the chew it. I felt a giggle coming and squashed it).

About the time I finished the first lap and I had to walk past the finish line (I'm not listening, I'm not listening. You're not even there), the blisters started. I've never really had blisters before, so this was definitely a new twist. The wahoo was confused then a little afraid. It's amazing how some simple blisters can alter your outlook when you have to walk about 18 miles on them. I dare say it puts a damper on any leg pumping party.

After about 4 miles of it and the wahoo said "you're on your own, pal. I got you through the bike and stuck with you even when you giggled like a school girl. There's nothing wahoo about blisters. Wahoo is about fun and abandon and pride and zany hijinks, I'm done. You figure it out.

Second time the IM made itself known - It's not about easy, it's about hard. It's about ignoring pain and will. It's mostly about will. So I walked and winced. After a while, I stopped wincing. By mile 18 My pace had dropped to about 17 min per mile. I did the math and still knew I was ok, but didn't have much margin for error any more. Walked and talked with some truly great people who I helped with humor, laughter and general weirdness and who helped me by talking and keeping my mind off the distance left and the distance past:

We stated a draft line despite the wind having completely disappeared. I spoke in serious Amish terms of my rusted undercarriage and how the horses weren't comfortable in the bridle. At about mile 22 we had to run again to keep a 17 minute pace because of a bathroom stop where we waited for eachother. I could feel my blisters separate further, but we had to maintain a 10 minute cushion.

Coming across the last bridge and nearing the shoot, I'm not sure what I felt. It wasn't relief or joy or glee (or giggles). It was a kind of awe with myself and who I am. Many times in my life I am happy or content with who I am (some times not), but never have I felt such a poignant... admiration for who I am. It was a completely new and very powerful sensation. I did it. I shouldn't be able to do something like this, but I did. I didn't cry or even feel emotional. I just felt a kind of honest awe and further, awe that I felt that feeling was completely warranted and appropriate.

I started to shuffle down the hill and saw Aaron and some other BT'ers. I ran through the shoot blowing kisses and giving the spectators high fives and across the tape. I felt fine for about 5 seconds and then got disoriented and stumbled and was caught. The catcher walked me around, stood me still and had a picture taken. The shoved stuff at me and I took it and the catcher walked me to some food I had little interest in eating. I wanted to say I wanted a massage, but I just couldn't associate my thoughts with my voice. My blistered feet started screaming and I didn't mind at all. Then I saw Zilla and she was crying and gave me a hug. We milled around for a few moments and watched someone run in blazing fast and miss the cutoff by about 12 seconds. I didn't feel bad for him. I felt proud of him for trying and for pulling out everything he had. I been first last and never tried. Only never tried has any regret for me.

I'm not sure I would change anything. Maybe a red teddy?

I don't remember much. I was not emotional at all. However, at 6am I woke up wide awake and started crying in the dark. I would get it under control and kind of think about the emotions flooding me and I would invariably think "I did it" and start crying again. I'm glad I felt that along with everything else....


I'm glad I did an IM race. The support made a lot of difference.