WOW.

I'm still in awe and it is the next day. In all the races I have had, I have never really been tested.  All  my previous races have always been completely manageable.  I have never questioned whether I could finish or not.  In this race there were at least two moments when I didn't think I was going to finish.  Unbelievable.  The thoughts that go through your head are incredible.

I was over two hours slower than last years Full Vineman, but it was absolutely the best race I have ever had.  Everything came down to just finishing.  It took every ounce of my will just to finish.

An amazingly managed race. The marines at Camp Pendleton rock!  Especially the 43rd division.  They had the best aid station on the bike by far.
 

Pre-Race:

Up at 3:00.  My sore throat has gotten worse.  A concern, but no reason not to start the race.  A little breakfast and stretching.  On the road by 4:45.  We arrived at Pendleton around 5:40.   Huge traffic jam. We slowly made our way onto the base.  I let Collette go and park the car and I walked into the transition zone to setup my bike and do a few last minute things. This time, as opposed to the Full Vineman, I went to the bathroom first so I wouldn't miss the swim start. I setup my bike the went to find Janet doing body marking and stood in line to wait for her.

I found Collette and my dad.  He brought along my Uncle George and Aunt Helen.  We took some pictures and waited for the start.  At 6:50 I got my wet suit on and headed for the water.  Chilly.  A mass start of 1800 swimmers.  I was about five deep from the front of  outside of the start.
 

Swim (2.4 mi)

The military used a real cannon to start the race.  KABOOM!  It is a strange thing being in the water with 1800 other thrashing people.  They create their own current.  I think I could have done the whole swim without paddling.  It is mostly chaos.  Bumping into people on the left and right.  Trying to get into the open.  It never really thinned out until the second loop.  Even then I was swimming with 30-40 people.  It was in the bay at Camp Pendleton and headed out towards the ocean.  Out towards the first turnaround, there were swells coming in.  Very choppy and I swallowed a lot of water.  I kept wondering if a boat had driven by.  Finishing the last of two loops I remember thinking that my lips were frozen.  Then I realized that the tip of my tongue was also frozen.  Chilly.

Out of the water in 1:15.  A very slow time.  I was expecting 55 minutes to 1 hour.  I found out later the first finisher was around 55 minutes, so maybe the course was a little long?  Not a bad time then.  5-10 minutes behind the leader..

Out of the water and strip off my wet suit.  Running into the transition area, I see my mom.  I wave as I run by.  Get my stuff and head to the tent to change.  Out of the tent and head to get my bike.  They read my number wrong so the volunteer pulled the wrong bike.  I knew where it was, so I just grabbed it myself.
 

Bike (112 mi):

Feeling good as I head out on the bike.  I see Collette (she said she was with Janet, but I didn't see her).  I also see my dad and my Aunt and Uncle as I head out onto the bike course.  The weather was overcast.  Much better than scorching sun.   Out on the course I'm just taking it easy trying to maintain 20mph.  We head north to Christiantos (trestles), and then head inland.  Once we got 1/4 mile inland, the sun comes out and it is hot.  Grab some water at one of the first of 4 Marine run aid stations.  These guys were really cool.  I grab some Gatorade as I know the first hill is coming up.  It's a tough hill, but not unmanagable. Scream down the other side and come to another aid station.  The were in the rolling hills for a while.  Then we come to the aid station of the 43rd Division.  It is at the base of the last of three hills.  I don't know his rank,  but there is an officer at the beginning of the aid station in "Drill Sergeant" style, telling us to get up that hill. A perfect moment in time, being yelled at by a drill sergeant during an Ironman.  This aid station is over populated with marines.  All screaming and yelling handing out food and water and cheering.  They were amazing.  By far the best aid station on the course.  Coming back towards the beach, we have a strong head wind.  My lower back is starting to get sore.  I've been having trouble with it lately and been working on special exercises to fix it.  I had the same pain at the Full Vineman, but I didn't feel it until mile 90.  This is only mile 40.  I've planned on this pain ahead of time, so I just plan to accept it and keep peddling.   I'm about 15 minutes behind 20mph pace for the first three hours.  I see my mom just before the turn around.  I wave and throw here an empty bike bottle.  My favorite bike bottle or I would have just left it on the course.

We come back through the transition area and head out for the second loop.  They route use through a line of about 100 amphibious assault vehicles.  Awesome.  Come out of there to a giant cheering crowd.  I see Collette, Larry and Jane, Elle and Garret.  I give them the thumbs up even though I'm hurting.  My dad and my Aunt and Uncle had to go to the wedding of my cousin, so he'll be back later.  I feel strong and climb back out from the beach on the second loop.  As I get back out on the course, my back is feeling much better.  Maybe it was the pushing hard after the turn around?

I decide the throw caution to the wind and push hard for the second loop.

Warning:  If you ever do an Ironman.  Don't throw caution to the wind.  It will pulverize you.

I'm fine the next hour on the bike.  Making great time and well over 20mph average speed.  Then I start getting really sore and have to stand up on the peddles to stretch.  This helped at the Full Vineman,  but not here.  I decide that I need to use the bathroom, so I'll stop and maybe that will help?  Wrong.  When I say my back, it is just the left side, just above the hip.  My back cramps as I'm trying to leave the bathroom.  I have to stand by the door because walking is like fire.  Searing pain. Red hot coals under the skin.  I finally get the door open and shuffle over to my bike.  All I can do is lean up against the wall of the building and try not to move.  Agony.  I've got to sit down, but any move is impossible.  Moving my arms to take off my helmet takes everything.  I try to sit down two or three times.  I end up in a "controlled" fall to the cement.  I'm leaning on one hand with my legs bent to the side.  Any move is impossible.

Did you ever have a cramp in your calf in the middle of the night?  Take that an multiply it by 20, then add another 20 if you even move your little finger.

A park ranger pulls up.

Park Ranger: "Are you okay?".
Me: "Not really, I need some ice, my back is cramped up."
Park Ranger: "Let me make a call."  She pulls over to park and walks back.  "I have an ice pack in the truck will that help?".
Me: "I'm not sure I can take it from you without a DNF (Did Not Finish/Disqualification).
Park Ranger: "Let me check....  They say I can't, but they are sending someone."
Me: "Thanks".  I keep trying to move anything I can.  Not much success.  My arm is getting tired holding myself up, but it hurts a lot less than the option, movement.  An ambulance arrives.  I ask them for some ice.  They say they'll have to DQ me if they help in any way.
Me: "Come back in an hour and check on me.  Could one of you hand me my water off my bike?"  Ahh.  Liquid.
The ambulance leaves. This has taken about 15 minutes.  The spot where I'm sitting is just in the sun.  It is a hazy sun, but I can feel it.  I want to get back in the shade two feet away, but I can't move.
Park Ranger: "I'm going to have to go escort some people in.  I'll come back and check on you."
She asked me my name and says her name is Dee.
She leaves and I'm finally able to lay down.  I can move my legs a little bit and continue this for another half an hour. The thoughts going on in my mind are dark.  I'm thinking about a DNF after a year of training for this.  Tears well up in my eyes.  I block the thoughts and focus on getting back on the bike.  It seems utterly impossible.  I can't even walk, how am I going to run a marathon? One of the things I think about is the aid station of the 43rd Division.  I so wanted to get back there to tell them they had the best station on the course.  Anything but a DNF.  I resolve my self that I'll stay here until the last biker comes through and then they can DQ me.  It is about 2:30 and I have until 6pm to finish the bike.  At normal speed, I'm an hour and a half from the end of the bike.

Other racers keep riding by asking if I'm okay.  I just give a thumbs up.  I finally manage to get my body turned around so my head is in the shade.  Progress!  It has been an hour.
Another ambulance stops by and asks me if I'm okay. I tell him to come pick me up with the last bike.

Swaying my legs back and forth for another 15 minutes and trying to stretch and massage the cramped muscle.  I'm able to roll over and get to my knees!!!  I sway back and forth there for a while and I'm able to stand.  A massive knot in my back, but not on fire anymore. Dee drives by.  I gave her the thumbs up. I walk around for a bit and resolve that I'm going to get back on my bike and finish this.  My water and gatorade are both gone and I am thirsty.  I finally put my leg over my bike and head off.
 

Biking again.  40 miles to go.

The stream of bikes is much thinner now than when I first stopped here.  I'm near the back of the pack.  I'll just put it in a low gear and spin.  It is another 8 miles until the next aid station.  I'm thirsty.  They have ice and I ask one of the Marines to fill my back pocket on my bike jersey with ice.  It is perfectly situated over the sore muscle.  Ahhhhhh.  I head off again.  The hill this time looks a little bigger than the first loop.  Most everyone is walking their bikes.  I put it in a low gear and stand up for the entire hill.  I'm over it and headed down the back side.  At the next aid station, the ice is melted and I replenish it.

At the 43rd division I'm feeling better and they are as strong as ever.  The other aid stations were closing up shop.  The "drill sergeant" is gone, but they have a huge crowd of volunteers.  I grab some water and tell them they are the best aid station.  Cheers!  Mission accomplished.

Stand up for the last hill and make it handily.  I'M GOING TO FINISH.  I keep telling myself.  I still don't know how I got back on that bike?  I'm going to finish!  It brings a smile to my face.  Many of the volunteers are marines out in the middle of nowhere standing at an intersection to a road that probably gets used once a year.  I've got to hand it to the Camp Pendleton Marines.  I thanked every one of them as I rode by.

At mile 95, my back starts hurting, but I'm going so slow that it is manageable.  I'm being careful.  I just want off of this bike.  I'm going to finish.  Smile.

Back to the transition area.  I see my mom and wave.  Tell her quickly about what happened and head into the transition area.  I didn't see Collette although she said I looked right at her.  A volunteer is there to take my bike.  I get off and straddle my bike.  I tell him it may take me a minute to get my leg over the bar.  I get off and I don't want to see that bike again for a long time.  I hobble towards the changing area.  Another volunteer hands me my back of run gear.  It is hard to change when you can't bend over.  It takes a while to get my bike shorts off and get my run shorts on.  I manage the pain, get everything back into my bags and walk out for a nice run.  Anything is better than that bike!

Bike time 8:05 for a bike ride I should do in 5:45.
 

Run (26.2 miles).

I stop and tell Collette, Larry and Jane what happened.  "I'm going to finish."  I tell them.  Sorry it's going to be a little late.

I walk for a half mile then start to shuffle-run.  I can do this.  My back 'pings' once in a while, but nothing I can't deal with.  I'm running and felling great at mile 3.  At the turn around I look at my watch.  54 minutes since I left the bike.  That is huge!  I'm just over 8 minute pace.  A sub 4 hour marathon is in site.  I'm feeling great!  My pre-race goal was to run in under 4 hours and I make that my goal again.

Here we go again...

Mile 10.  I'm feeling dizzy.  I'm feeling nauseated.  My ears hurt.  My lungs hurt like one of those smoggy days when I was a kid.  This is that cold I caught yesterday finally taking hold?  I walk.  I'm really concerned about my health.  I didn't get back on that bike to get stopped for medical reasons.  I know I need to get checked out.  I resolve myself to walk until I see Larry and ask him to get a medical eval with me.  I think about the consequences (DNF) and tears well up in my eyes again for the second time. Push those thoughts to the background.   I'm walking quickly.  The DNF keeps playing over and over in my head.  I see Collette my mom and Elle and I start crying.  They are concerned, but I keep walking.  They get Larry and I ask him to come with me.  I see my dad too, they are all concerned. We find a head volunteer and they call the med tent.  They say they'll meet us at the finish.  That is where the marathon turn around is.  We get there and no one is there.  Another volunteer tells us to keep walking and they'll catch up to us.  Back to the lead volunteer and she radios again.  We wait 20 minutes.  It was 7pm when I got here.  I have until midnight to finish.  If I don't head out soon, I'm not going to have enough time to walk 13 miles.  After 20 minutes, I tell sue the volunteer that I'm going.  She says they'll catch me at the next aid station.  Collette gives me her phone to call Larry on.  I walk with urgency.

I see my mom again.  She is going home. She's not feeling well and she has to drive back to Big Bear by herself.  I would have sent her home earlier if I knew.  Mostly my fault, I was expecting to finish two hours ago.  I give her the story.  She offers me her sweater.  I'm wearing a wind breaker and I'm a little cold.  I trade her for my glasses which I'm not going to need.  I'm toasty warm in that sweater and my wind breaker.  Ahhh.

There is an ambulance at the next aid station.  I ask the crew for an eval and tell them what is going on.  I just don't want to do any permanent damage.  They take my blood pressure 110/80.  My pulse is 116.  The doctor listens to my lungs and she says they are clear.  I'm given the thumbs up.  Relief.  As I walk through the aid station I decide to take a shot of cola.  I'm also given a glow stick.    Yes.  They server cola at these races.  It is dark. After another mile of walking, I start to feel better.  I'm thinking about starting to shuffle-run again?  I try it and it isn't all that bad.  Big smile. I have to stop to take off the sweater and tie it around my waste.  I run a little farther and have to take of the wind breaker too.  I resolve that I can run the rest of the way.  I'm passing people again.  I finally reach the turn around.  I ask the volunteers to yell when I hold the phone in the air and call Larry.  No answer.  Call again.  No answer.  I thank the volunteers and keep running.  They cheer anyway.  Volunteers are cool.  Larry calls me back after a quarter mile..  I tell him I just hit the turn around and have been running.  Just after that, I pass mile 20!  I'm still run-shuffling and still passing people.  I notice someone has been keeping pace just behind me.  I start up a  conversation.  We talk for the next few miles.  At mile 23, I'm feeling alive and actually start to run without the shuffle!  I'm really passing people now, although there aren't many on the course.

I'm back at mile 25 and stop to call Larry.  Be ready, I'm almost there and I'm actually running?  He asks me if Elle can run down the finish with me?  I tell him I would love it as long as I don't get in trouble.  I can see the bright lights across the bay.  I'm inspired.  I keep running and making time.  I see Sue, the lead volunteer that helped me try to get a medical eval.  I thank her as I run by and tell her I did it!  I've got a sweater and a jacket tied around my waste.  As I approach the grand stands, I take them off and put them where I can come back for them.  My dad snaps a picture.  Big smile.

Wow!  Those are some big and loud grandstands.  They are about 100 yards long and full of people.  Very bright lights.  There is Elle.  I take here hand and we hit the carpet for the last 100 yards of screaming crowd.  Big smile.  They have the tape across the finish line.  I've got Elle's hand and lead here into the tape first.  After we cross, I picked up Elle and scream.  This was a race I will remember forever.  I think the clock said 15:35, but that just doesn't matter.  I FINISHED.

I told Collette after the race.  This was 1% an endurance race and 99% mental.

I would urge anyone to try something like this.  It will show you a side of yourself you will not see unless you do something you that seems impossible.  If you put your mind to something, you can do anything.  Sometimes it just takes every ounce of will power.  This was one of those times.

Sweet sweet victory.

YOU can do anything!
 
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