Meg had written me the following message:
Mutha
f&%kin rain,
Rainin
on my face,
Gotta
pump my arms,
To
keep up the fast pace,
Beating
up the street,
Trying
to create heat,
Almost
done this run,
That
was so much fun.
-Rap
song made up by Meghan on 20 mile run in pouring rain and 60km winds
Skyping with her the day before allowed me
to get the actual tune and tempo of the rap, and sure enough, I ran out of the
tent singing “mutha f&%kin rain …rainin on my face …” (It wasn’t even raining). The little Advil pill was rested gently
in my hand as my arms pumped me along while my legs just did whatever my brain
told them to. I entered the
streets and wondered how this run was really going to go down. I had done some math on the bike (this
calculation took me almost the entire 6 hours). If I started the race at 7:00, and the swim was about 1:25 based
on what the lady told me … and if I biked at an average speed of 31km/h, then I
would have to do a 4:30 marathon. Be present Diane. remember how powerful the present is. Enjoy the moment.
How
many countries start with the letter I? Hint: there are 9 and none obscure ~
Sally
I asked someone what time it was.
“2:30.” This was just as I had
calculated (over a 6-hour bike ride); I would need a 4:30 marathon to break 12
hours. I ran a 4:36 marathon in
Cozumel, and in training for Brazil I only ran up to 21km (before getting
plantar-fasciitis). I ran that distance
only once. A 4:30 marathon would
be tough, but not impossible.
Playing
like a girl doesn’t mean what it used to.
~Danah
As I left the town and head for the hills
(literally) I ran up on a water station with a port-o-let. Chrissie Wellington mentions in her
book A Life Without Limits (which I
recommend to you all) that stopping a squatting is more than appropriate in
Ironman. I only pull this move in
the dark and when under the influence, so it wasn’t going to happen today. I actually stopped to use the
port-o-let. (This is the last you
will hear of peeing – I promise).
I grabbed water on my way back to the road and popped my Advil.
One
can never consent to creep when one feels the impulse to soar. ~Helen Keller via Sharon
The run in Brazil is one 21.1km loop and
then two 10.5km loops. That first
loop has some bad-ass hills and the hydration stations offered water, Gatorade,
Pepsi, crackers, salt and bananas.
There was no gel. No Gel! Luckily
I had stuffed a few in my tri-suit just in case. I timed my nutrition and used my body to measure what I
needed. Water. Pepsi. Water and
salt. Pepsi and a bun. Water and a gel. I started out with a decent pace, but then at about 5km my
knees and ankles started to kill.
I think it was my ankles that hurt more. The insides of my ankles. Anyone?
Every
worthwhile accomplishment big or little, has its stages of drudgery and
triumph; a beginning, a struggle, and a victory. ~Ghandi via Leah
I only had 3 Advil left, so I attempted to
ration. I decided I would take one
at 10km, another at 20km, and the last at 30km. When I came in after the first loop of 21.1 I knew that I
would be cutting the 12-hour mark close.
I couldn’t however, pick up my pace without feeling a lot of physical
joint pain, so I didn’t. I was so
happy coming around that loop. Rather than Pepsi, Gatorade and water, the
hydration station had chicken soup broth.
And it was hot. I have
heard great things about this during a race, so I took a cup and downed it. It felt great in the stomach and was
salty to taste.
Today
is your day, your mountain (big ass swim, marathon, effin long bike) is waiting
so get on your way! ~Dr. Seuss via
Sara
I remember reading Ironman advice once. It went something like this:
During the swim: hold back
For the first ½ of the bike: hold back
For the second ½ of the bike: still hold
back
For the first half of the run: hold back
Between km 21-37: hold back
When there is 5km left: DON’T hold back
I held back. I passed some familiar faces along the way and was
sure to give high 5s to passing runners if I knew them. There were several turn around points
on the run so you had runners passing in both directions. When I reached the loop
turn-around once again I looked at the race clock. It said 10:57.
By the time I looped out it would be 11:00 (race time). My current pace was about
8.5-9km/h. If I wanted to finish
the race in under 12 hours I would have to finish the last loop 10.5km, in an
hour; 10.5km/h. I have run this
pace before, in five or 10km race, but now, no way. I set off for the last loop and the sun had already set. The weather was cooling off and the moon
lit the Ironman sky (I don’t actually know if the moon was even out). I started to pick up my pace at about
2km and following that there was a long hill. The grade wasn't huge, but a hill is a hill is a hill, and I
was 215km in. I picked up my pace.
Reminder: I had no watch on.
I came to what I thought was about ½ way
and was feeling pretty good. This is that
last 5km Diane. You are allowed to give it. Should I? No,
not should Diane, could I? Yes.
I
have met my hero and she is me ~Georgette Sheehan via Meghan
I don’t know where these bursts come from.
Out of nowhere, I started to go faster and faster. By the time I reached the town again, I realized there was
only 3km left. I was passing
people left and right (literally – again). The girl who had passed me 10km back was now in my
view. Go Diane. Fly. You have this. Don’t slow down. Fly. I did. When there was one kilometer left, I
gunned it. Having no idea of the
time, but feeling light in my legs and determined to finish strong, I all out
sprinted. At the end, you enter a
pathway of people. Many have their
hands out to high five and others are stretched into the space taking
pictures. I was flying. As I rounded the corner into the race
chute I looked up at the clock.
11:59:20. I can’t describe
this feeling; but I have felt it twice in the last month, once after Magic
Carpet, and now. I jumped up and
down, and screamed “Yeahhhhhhh”
flailing my arms and laughing with pure spastic joy, I crossed the line.
Sidney, the race announcer gave me a special
shout out and this time I heard it, “Diane from Canada, but living in Mexico,
you … are … an Ironman!”
Run time: 4:28:45
Race time: 11:59:24
Making my way out of the chute I carried my giddy
little self into the massage tent. One advantage of being alone was that I
could now indulge without worrying about anyone waiting. Smiling through
the entire massage, I left the tent and head on over to the medical tent to
take care of a huge blood-blister. One good look and I realized my
blister could wait. There were at least 50 people hooked up to IV.
I collected my belongings and made my way
home. It took about 30 minutes
working a dread lock out of my hair in the shower, but I got cleaned up, and
then left in mad search of a burger and fries.
The side of the road look as good a place
as any to eat my hard-earned meal while cheering the rest of the athletes in. I got to see the para-athletes, 68-year-old
American woman Theo (the oldest participant of the race), Mike (who raced with
his wife Vanessa until km 21 when her body said “no more lady”), and Alicia,
one of the last warriors to cross the finish line. These athletes that are on the course for 16+ hours are
true-blue heroes of mine.
Perseverance, determination and courage define who they are. These are the people that demonstrate
what it really means to not give up, and they live the Ironman motto:
“Impossible is nothing.”
Whether it be a sporting endeavour, raising
a family, writing a book, or working on any other project that inspires you, I leave you with
this: We were born to achieve extraordinary measures. Settling for mediocrity
while comfortable, limits us from achieving our real potential. We all have gifts to give and talents to share. There is nothing wrong with highlighting your amazingness; in fact, it's a crime to keep it hidden. So, get on out here. That's right, OUT HERE! Make magic happen.
I am extremely thankful to all of YOU. Thank you for following, for the shout outs, for sharing your stories, and for encouraging me to keep moving forward. I was recently reminded of Aristotle's, "The total is greater than the sum of the parts." How true this is.
And a special thank you to the Baptiste Power Yoga Institute (totally out of the box, incredible yoga/personal journey) and Trimundo (an evolution in triathlon for Mexico) for allowing me to race with their logos on my legs. A true marriage of two passions, yoga and triathlon. Yogathlon if you will.
Finally, the hugest THANK YOU and acknowledgment to Ricardo. I met Ricardo at the finish line of Ironman Cozumel. (And proceeded to move there 2 1/2 weeks later) Thank you Ricky P. for dragging me out of bed at 4:45 daily, for encouraging me after my goggles filled up with tears after crappy swims, and for taking me on amazing weekly adventures in the hills of Mexico. Thank you for being the best guy a gal could ask for.
Finally, the hugest THANK YOU and acknowledgment to Ricardo. I met Ricardo at the finish line of Ironman Cozumel. (And proceeded to move there 2 1/2 weeks later) Thank you Ricky P. for dragging me out of bed at 4:45 daily, for encouraging me after my goggles filled up with tears after crappy swims, and for taking me on amazing weekly adventures in the hills of Mexico. Thank you for being the best guy a gal could ask for.
