I suppose every Ironman is special, but this year, for the first time in 8 years, the Hawaii Ironman became “the race”. Of course, Hawaii is the World Championships and so it is “the race” for so many people. But, I have to admit, that it has always been a bit of an alien race to me. The winds on the bike and the heat can be so severe, that the race can destroy dreams in a little over 9 hours. Biking 180 km on my training roads in Caledon, Ontario, is a lot different from biking 180 km in the headwinds, crosswinds and heat of Kona. Running 3 hours feels a lot different in Canada than it does in the Energy Lab. And so, for fear of having my heart and dreams shattered on the lava fields, I’ve never invested myself totally in preparing for it.
This year was different. Having finally “raced” it in 2003 and finished only 11 minutes behind the winner, Lori Bowden, I believed that I could actually race to win it. In September, I realized that my two limiting factors in Kona have been dealing with the wind on the bike and balancing my sodium loss due to the extreme heat with my ingestion of electrolytes. And so, on September 21st, I flew to Kona much earlier than usual with my training buddy, Nigel Gray, in order to complete my last 2 week training block on the course amidst all of the raging conditions. By the time my taper started on October 4th, I was confident in the winds and I had managed my sodium loss quite well during all of my sessions – no cramping and no bloating and no pit-stops. But the true bonus was that I was fitter than ever before. Thanks to Lance Watson’s training schedule and Nigel’s hands-on training and coaching, I was swimming faster, pushing my best wattage ever on the bike and running effortlessly at quick paces. The mini-training camp had been a success.
The taper began and I was nailing all of my sessions. For the first time, I loved Hawaii. Yes, we all love Hawaii to visit, but to race here is nasty. Everything was coming together. I was happier than ever, relaxed, motivated, hungry to race and confident that I would race at my best.
And then, “it” happened. I got sick. I have been healthy for one full year. No antibiotics for one year. Ever since I started to eat more fruits and veggies, less wheat and processed products and made Greens+ part of my daily routine, I have escaped all infection. In Hawaii, I had been eating well, resting lots, sleeping 8 to 10 hours a night and staying in the paradise known as the Hilton @ Waikoloa Village having my every need taken care of. How on earth could I have gotten sick in the warmest place on earth???? I had no answer and so I could only conclude that this was meant to be. I truly believe that there is a reason for everything and God had some purpose in me having an infection flare up days before the World Championships. Every tumultuous time in my life has been a gift in disguise where the end result has brought more happiness than could have ever been imagined. I convinced myself that this infection was a gift. I believed it.
I started my antibiotic treatment on Monday and rested for a solid two days. On Wednesday, I met up with Tracey Richardson. Tracey and I are connected by CF – she is a mother racing for her children who suffer terribly from Cystic Fibrosis and I am the anomaly to the disease – a full-time athlete racing with a very mild case of CF which only affects me when I get an infection (www.cure4cf.com). When I saw Tracey on that day, I couldn’t help but cry. Here is a woman who listens to her children cough and suffer every day of their young lives – a mother absolutely defenseless against this genetic disorder. By contrast, with the luck of genetics, I have a mild strain of the same disease. I am typically healthy. I am blessed with an athletic career. Meanwhile, almost selfishly, I am upset that despite being in the shape of my life, I might not be able to compete at my best in the World Championships. No, that attitude just wasn’t acceptable in the big scheme of life.
In that brief meeting with Tracey, I realized my gift. This year, racing the Hawaii Ironman was not going to be about winning. This year, racing the Hawaii Ironman was going to be about being the best that I could be with my “deck of cards”. My path in life is not just to be an athlete. If I want to get sick kids moving, running, jumping and playing and if I want them to believe that they have a future, then I had better believe that I can be the best that I can be regardless of whatever – regardless of wind, heat, terrain, sickness, drafting penalty. When we relegate all of those things that are outside of our control to the back burner, we can truly be at our best. And so that became my theme for the Hawaii. I had a gift. And I was going to be good to myself all day long and be grateful for my gift.
The professional athletes started 15 minutes before the age group athletes. I felt as if I swam well, but I was leading my pack of athletes which is never a good sign. I usually swim quite well open water because I am able to mix and mingle with some faster swimmers and they pull me through the swim to a faster time. With our separate start, there were less of those swimmers to swim with. The faster pros got away. I exited the swim in 61 minutes. It was a slower year, but I was definitely off pace in that swim. But following my theme, I accepted my slower swim and moved on. No beating myself up. No self-nagging. In the history of the dominance of slower swimmers like Lori and Heather who had both won the Hawaii Ironman from the back, I pushed on with a big happy heart.
I was onto the bike with Heather Fuhr and Kate Major. The three-way battle between us had already begun. I started to envision getting off of the bike close to Heather and running a 3 hour marathon together to jump onto the podium. I wasn’t concerned about Kate. I figured that she would ride away from both of us. And then “it” happened. For the first time in my 15 year career as a triathlete, I got a drafting call. I’ll never forget it. I was passing Kate. We have 20 seconds to pass and we are told to ride right up behind the athlete and then pass. So I rode right up behind Kate and passed her and as soon as my wheel was ahead of hers, I heard the words “Number 46, stand down – drafting.” I was sure that they were going to call Kate for not dropping back. Unbelievable. But in the spirit of being good to myself, I was not fussed at all by the call. I knew that I had not cheated. So the only rational for the drafting call was that it was going to be an imposed 4 minute rest so that I wouldn’t get any sicker – someone was looking out for my well-being. That was what I convinced myself and it worked because I got right back into the race.
Despite the stop-and-go penalty, I managed to ride back into Heather’s area and we continued to see each other for the next 130 km. Heather even rode by me at one point and said “that call was so unfair”. But the toughest thing about the penalty was that if I had another call, then I would be disqualified. Considering that I wanted nothing more than to race this race, a DQ was out of the question. And so my aggression was definitely scaled back. Whenever I was passed, I dropped back immediately. This got more difficult as the peleton of age group men passed us. Now, I had to drop quite a way back since I was never passed by just one man – it was always a pack. And that was how I lost contact with Heather Fuhr. A few age group men would get in between us and I would just keep dropping back further and further until she was out of sight. Now that was discouraging. And I had no “feel good” positive thoughts to feed myself with to curb the disappointment; there was just anger that our women’s race was once again being affected by things that were out of my control.
In terms of the wind, for the first time, I enjoyed the wind. My mini-camp had prepared me perfectly for the conditions. I likened the wind to swimming in the waves. So I just played in the winds. But I would also attribute my perception of the winds to my state of mind. There was absolutely nothing on race day that was going to upset me. My race was my gift to myself for all of my hard training.
Off of the bike, I ran into the penalty box for my 4 minute rest. I used it as an opportunity to cool down my core temperature by pouring water over my head and I fantasized about running a 2:55 marathon and catching all of the women ahead of me.
Off onto the marathon, I thought I would run it like many of my long 2.5 hour runs. Lance often has me start a run at 4:20/km and descend to 4:00/km for the last 15 minutes. Of course, I would not be descending the pace on this run, but my plan was to descend the effort and by doing that, I would run the same pace at the end of the marathon as I was at the start. Having a plan like this made the marathon fun for me instead of a survival exercise.
I started running at about 6:50/mile and I held that pace for a long time. In hindsight, the marathon went very quickly. I was in a good head space. It is wonderful what a positive perspective can do for you. At the first out and back, I could see the leaders. Nina was running fast and way out in front. Natasha had her usual happy face on and Heather was running beautifully in third. Nina, Natasha and Heather all yelled encouragement, which says a lot about our sport. Behind Heather, there were a lot of “catch-able” women and that made me very excited.
My favorite part of the race was going to be the last 8 miles. I had run my last run session in the Energy Lab and back to Hina Lani St. – the road to Costco. I knew that the last 6 miles would likely be into a headwind with more uphills than downhills. I went into the Energy Lab in 10th place and I exited in 5th place about 2:50 behind 4th place. I felt motivated and happy and hungry to catch 4th – I wanted to be the person who could still race well despite all the curveballs which had been thrown at me – the infection, the penalty, the slower swim and bike ride. I did not catch 4th place, but I snagged 5th spot on a “curveball” day in sport.
Inevitably, I always get asked if I am happy with my race. This question always suggests that I should be somehow disappointed. Well I can tell you that I am ecstatic about my performance. My mind and spirit were at 100% and I loved my entire day. I took control of the things that I could control and I gave up on all the things that I could not control. That is an incredibly freeing task. My mind was entirely focused on the task of getting from A to B as fast as possible. My spirit was happy. Sure it was disappointing that I wasn’t 100% healthy, but I wouldn’t give up who I am for a million dollars. Yes, the penalty was disappointing, but out of my hands and maybe a blessing in disguise. And finally, my mind was totally on task for the entire marathon. I loved every minute of my Ironman day.
Thank you so much for your support and your cheers. In particular, thank you to the Hilton @ Waikoloa Village for welcoming into their family for almost 5 weeks. Now I just have to find away to make that 52 weeks!!!
I already cannot wait to race Kona 2005 – but for now, it is time for a rest.