It’s been almost a month
since THE race, and my mind is still racing. I have so much to say, yet I don’t
know where to start. Every time I sit down to put my thoughts on paper, my
fingers get paralyzed. I shut my eyes, and I feel like I am there!
October 11t, 2014 –
almost 7 am, treading water at Kailua Bay in Kona, Hawaii surrounded by
hundreds of other super fast women, and spectators, waiting for the canon to go
off to start THE race I had my eyes set on winning for the last 2 years. I did say “winning”, and I did say “2 years”.
I have a tremendous
respect for this race and Kona to me is a very special. Yes – it is the World
Championship but it will also forever be my very first ironman! Talk about
throwing myself into the “fire”! It further
presents the greatest challenge for my body and mind. It is 140.6 miles of
unpredictable, where every little mistake, misjudgment, and weakness gets
magnified. As Jan Frodeno said: “It’s paradise, and it’s hell all at once”.
Paradise! The best sunsets in the world brought to you from the dinner table
Riding your bike through the lava fields can turn into "hell" very quickly
The atmosphere on the
island is absolutely electrifying and hard to put into words. You really have to be part of it to
understand. Whether as competitor, volunteer, spectator, or just a tourist that
happened to vacation on the island during the 2nd week of October,
you will feel something special and even you may start walking around town in
spandex of half naked ;).
Gotta love the underwear run!
Love me so Barnana!
Just getting to Kona is
a journey! It is a long process! One that requires a lot of dedication with
which comes sacrifice! And although triathlon is an individual sport, it takes
a village, and I would like to thank mine for allowing me and helping me to
chase my dreams.
I arrived on the island
full week before the race, which meant I got to swim/bike/run a little on the course, get
acclimated to the 6 hour time difference, and soak in the atmosphere that this
race brings with it. Unlike two years ago, when I toed the line as an ironman
rookie, this year I felt a certain level of confidence that I really do belong
here. The chiseled, “I am in the best shape of my life” bodies walking around town
didn’t intimidate me. I 100% believed in my preparation and my own ability to
end up on top of that podium. I knew anything can happen, but I also knew that if I
execute my "perfect" race, I’ll give myself a chance to stand on that IM World
Championship podium with an “umeke” bowl over my head that I had dreamed about
so many times.
Fast forward to race
morning. The dreaded breakfast (it’s always
a struggle to get it down), the unusual body marking process (because if you
made it here, we will just have people apply race number tatoos on you in the
am), the moment when you are asked to step on the scale which becomes very
important post race in case you really do leave everything out on that race
course, the “long” walk to find your bike racked on the famous pier to get it
ready to fight the elements out on the Queen K.
The final minutes once
all that is taken care of always feel like hours! That was true especially this
year, since this was the first year of wave starts, and we were the last wave
to go off at 7am – 10 min after the AG men, 30 min after the PRO women, and 40
min after the PRO men.
THE SWIM: 1:18:23
I was really nervous,
but as soon as I entered the water, and looked around, I knew I was ready to
fight. The swim start in Hawaii is
special! The last 5 min of treading water was a great indication of how the
swim would go. Just because there were less of us, didn’t mean it was going to
be any less physical. To the contrary, I was getting kicked and pushed around before
we even started swimming but I held my own. I wasn't happy to just be here, I
wanted to win. I took one last look around me and before I knew it, the cannon
went off.
Chaos!
I felt great, swimming
steady and pretty effortlessly. Although I didn’t start on the buoy line, I
made my way to it fairly soon, and had quite a bit of company along the way.
The water was choppy, but I felt great even though I kept getting pushed and
kicked and smacked from both sides pretty much the entire way out to the
turnaround. As we started to near the turnaround we started to run into blue
caps which given the conditions became a bit more difficult to navigate. The
chop kept increasing, but I continued to feel very good while passing more and
more blue caps (men) and working with a few other women that were swimming
around me. I had my Garmin set to beep every 10 minutes, but I was so in the
zone and concentrated on the task at hand, I didn’t even know how many beeps I
have heard so when I heard one loud beep as I was nearing the pier, I was super
excited to see the 1 hour mark. Instead my Garmin read 1:10, with at
least another 500 yards to go which threw me for a loop and with that a pretty
big emotional let down. The quiet, calm
and focused head of mine went into a full on brawl. I was not happy, and I just
couldn’t understand why I swam so slow when I felt so good! I felt like I let
myself and few others down in a big time.
I end up smashing my knees and tripping on those steps every time!
In retrospect, I ended
up swimming almost 2.7 miles which would actually explain why I felt so good. 1:18
for 2.7 miles sounds much better than 1:18 for 2.4 and would be right around
the pace I was hoping to actually swim. None less it was time to keep moving, but
even though I was really trying to leave the swim behind, it kept popping up at
the forefront of my mind for a bit longer than I would have like it to.
THE BIKE: 5:21:15 (6th
fastest amateur bike split)
This one is a tough one
to write about. Yes, it was hot, and yes it was incredibly windy - as in
athletes getting blown of their bikes windy but that is Hawaii. I felt awesome getting
on my bike and although I spent the first 10 miles still thinking about how I
could have felt so great but swim so slow, my power numbers were falling right
where they needed to be. I may have ridden more centuries this year than I did
during my entire triathlon career and as a result, my pacing was dialed in!
Trying really hard to forget about the swim!
Once
I made it onto the Queen K, I finally put the swim behind me, put my head down,
and went to work. I kept riding by feel, but was locked in within the power
ranges my coach and I discussed prior to the race for different sections of the
race. I would slow down at every aid station to grab fuel whenever I needed or
at least a cold bottle of water to cool myself off. The wind was real, and the
heat index was rising. I found myself pedaling downhill in a small front chain
ring just to go 10mph – did I mentioned it was on a downhill? I didn’t let that
get to me but it was seriously windy. I kept moving, staying aero and before
you know it, I was climbing up towards the turnaround at Hawi. The road went
up, and my numbers went up with it which was the plan.
I continued to feel
great until I didn’t. The descend back from Hawi was rough! I usually strive on
the downhills and have no fear, but I was worried I may not make it down in one
piece. I tried to relax as much as I could while still moving at a descent clip
(at times way over 30mph), but between the strong crosswinds/gusts and watching
people being blown all over the road right in front of my eyes, I was scared. I
lost the great rhythm I had going for the first 60 miles of the race and I also
neglected my to this point spot on “cooling” and drinking. I drank when I
thought I could let go of my handlebars which wasn’t too often, so by the time
I got to the bottom of Hawi and back on the Queen K around the 80 mile mark, I
was boiling. It was then in the heat and wind of the moment when things started
to fall apart. I made the decision to stick to “x” pace, instead of putting my
head down and getting it done. The last 30 miles were rough. I had some great
moments where I was able to get back into my rhythm and just get it done, but I
had some sections during which my power plummeted to numbers I would normally only
see on a recovery ride. The wind was still out in full force and it definitely
wasn’t cooling. I did get back on track in terms of cooling and nutrition, but
the “damage” was done, and decision to back off was made.
Looking back, yes, I
moved through the field all day long making my way from 50th after
the swim to 5th in my AG, passing a total of 601 athletes and
posting the 6th fastest female amateur bike split, but it is the leg of the
race I am disappointed about the most. I failed to capitalize on my strength,
but I will be back to make it right!
Despite the hot and
windy bike, and due to my decision to roll through the last 10 miles with ease
in favor of not overheating or destroying myself, I rolled into
transition feeling good and ready to run.
THE RUN: 3:36:05
I had one thought
running through my head at the beginning of this run, and that was to NOT go
out too fast as I did the other two times I raced this distance. It didn’t help
I had one of my competitors running about 25 yards in front of me the entire
time, but I was trying my best to hold back, so I could actually run when it
counts the most (The last 10K). The
second thought I had was to cool and fuel at each aid station. I was like a
robot moving through every single aid station and grabbing just about anything
that was being offered to me. Sponges, ice down the shorts, water, coke, water,
more ice, and just keep moving.
No idea what I am doing with my hands BUT probably telling myself to slooooow down!
I was staying cool, in control, running pretty
much right on pace plus or minus a few seconds here and there. Around mile 3 or
4, someone on roller blades with a camera in his hands started to follow me and
finally asked a few questions, and in Czech! Aaaaaaah, Czech TV here. Oh boy, I
better look like I know what I am doing ;). (You can see the shortened clip
here, but a 1 hour Czech version of the race was shown few weeks ago back home).
I got almost 30 seconds of fame!
I kept ticking of the
miles, and even felt great going up the famous Palani hill. I was really
confident and happy, I was finally going to nail this marathon thing off the
bike! I started to become pretty emotional, which obviously happened way too
soon, but it happened. I started to slow down a touch around mile 16, and by
mile 18/19 things started to fall apart quickly. Just in time for the
famous run through the energy lab! Even though by this time we had a cloud
cover and it was nowhere near as hot as it was the time I did one of my
training runs in there (if I remember correctly it may have even rained some
while I was in there), I was struggling big time and started to question my
existence. The super positive emotional state I was in just a few shorts miles
away, turned into how the heck am I going to survive the next 7 miles! I kept
moving as best as I could, but it wasn’t pretty and the count down to the
finish line was on. The typical “why am I doing this” popped
up in my head more than a few times in the last 6 miles. I am not counting the
last 1.2 because I call it the “free” mile. No matter how much you are hurting
that late in the race, the last mile in Kona is special, and the fan support
has the ability to take all the pain away (temporarily). I threw myself down
Palani, and emptied the tank as I crossed the finish line.
Happy, and exhausted
Wobble Right
Wobble Left
Finishing Time: 10:21:29
(6th AG – 30-34; 17th amateur female, and 46th
Overall including Pro’s)
Couple hours, and about a gallon of chicken soup and some time in the med tent, I was alive and smiling again :)
I was very bummed to
miss the podium by 1 spot (again), but that’s racing, I had nothing more to give on that day, and for that I have zero regrets. There were a few other
women that were stronger than me, and made better decisions than I did.
Congratulations to them all! Watching
everyone get on the podium the next day to get their “Umeke’s” made the tears flow again but
coming short has only made me stronger.
See those Umeke's on that table? There is one with my name on it, I know it! ;)
