Ironman Blues

What I would like to know is...

How does someone go from training their a** off, every single day, multiple hours daily, living, breathing, sleeping, eating - all things Ironman... to couch-bound and in pain for a week, nothing to train for, no big goal, and quite frankly, no real reason to live???

What I can tell you...

The result is one big case of post-partum depression (so-to-speak)!

I'm having a hard time with this one. I think I just enjoyed myself far to much during the training, perhaps I just didn't want it to end. In 2007 I had a small case of post-Ironman (aka post-partum) depression, but just a few weeks earlier Craig and I got engaged, so it was after Ironman that I got to start wedding planning - which, of course, is every girls dream, and every girls chance to turn into a controlling-bossy-picky-princessy-freak-of-nature Bridezilla. I think I bought my wedding dress the week after Ironman. This was a very good cure for any type of "blues" that I was experiencing, and perhaps the start of a long year of "blues" for my dad (thanks to a very large outstanding bill from The Bank of Dad).

I understand this year was a bit different, I really was quite sick for a few days after. I think I could describe the pain I had as almost as bad as my whole "Malaria out in the middle of no-man's Land somewhere in Sub-Sahara Africa" experience. But the most horrible thing of all is going from 25 + hours/week of training to pain on inhalation at rest! Who would have thought that Shingles could cause so much internal pain??? I thought only Grandma's and chemo patients got shingles (apparently... so do vegetarian, healthy, 26 year old, marathon running, girls).

The guilt started to settle in on Thursday, which was also probably one of the worst days for pain. All I could hear was the voice in my head telling me how badly I needed to get my butt in gear and get back to my training. What exactly I'm training for, is unknown, but the voices in my head were telling me my finely defined bulging quads and hamstrings (perhaps that's a bit of an exaggeration...) were shrinking down into mere single strands of DNA. If I didn't get back at it, I would be THAT GIRL who by-passes the leg press machine only to stroll on the treadmill with my totally coordinated lululemon uniform and matching pink ipod while my poney tail is flapping in the breeze of my 25 min/mile stroll (side note - I do LOVE lululemon anything, and I do have a pink ipod). Dear God - please just kill me now!!! Every moment I was on the couch (gasping for air) I could see my Ironman tatoo fading more and more into a blob of black ink on my ankle and eventually spelling out the words "Lazy Ass".

I swear I'm not extreme at all - totally reasonable and realistic!

As a result, I probably pushed it a bit more than I should of (as in - running whilst holding my insides together in extreme pain). I found swimming was actually a bit of a relief to the pain (so there was a lot of swimming), particularly when I just took breaths on my left side. I also used the eliptical machine, which I normally would classify in the "sissy" category at the gym, but it was something my mom and I could do together, while we analyzed and solved all of the world's problems. Plus, I got to spend a lot of time enjoying our beautiful extended summer, I spent a lot of time outside walking. It wasn't anything like my Ironman training, but it at least quieted those screaming "lazy ass demons" for the time being.

Now that I'm feeling much better, and fully (and OVERLY) rested, I've finally been able to get back into my normal activity level, and I and thoroughly looking forward to going back to work (after my banishment from the hospital being a walking virus to immune compromised persons).

This has got me thinking though. Those Ironman administration people are geniuses! They have garunteed themselves an eternal paycheque! The reason that people go back year after year (after year...) is because it would be better to just suck it up, pay the money, and start the training again, then go through the awful, dreaded, post-partum depression! It's such a lonely, horrible, suicidal (again, not extreme at all!) time. Dark days! I feel like I am a heroin addict trying to break a habit. Ironman-ing is a cult... they suck you in, and unless you can break the addiction, you will never, EVER, be able to stop (just look at Sister Madonna!). So now that I've missed my oppertunity to sign up for IMC 2010, I find myself secretly getting up in the middle of the night researching ultra-marathons and other sick and twisted goals that I can start training for. It's like my fix - I have to sneak out of bed without waking up Craig, then clear the Web History so that I can't be traced. I was reading about the Kananaskis 100 km ultra marathon and I found a single tear rolling down my cheek as it pulled on my heart strings.

So what do I do next?

I was thinking of putting an ad in the newspaper that reads:

"Young female seeking new hobby. Must be extreme, time consuming, inflict pain, burn a minimum 5000 calories/day, inhibit a social life, but yet be oh-so very very satisfying to ultra-extreme-OCD type personality. Can take up to and including 30 hours per week of Requestor's spare time and must result in some kind of material merchandise (aka finisher's tshirt and medal). Bragging-Rights-Tatoo a plus, but not a requirement. Must be able to bring an entire cheering squad clad in pink (from head to toe) who make an obnoxious amount of noise. Please send applications ASAP!"

If that doesn't work... I suppose I can just stick it out and enjoy having an exceptionally understanding husband who puts up with my many many, MANY withdrawl symptoms (including but not limited to: crying, whining, pouting, raging, silent-treatment, random house-reorganizing, glaring, and bathroom hogging for exceptionally long baths).

It's been a week and a half, I'm sure the worst of it is over and I'm well on my way back to normal-ness. Before we know it, this will be just a distant memory, and I'll be far more interested in America's Next Top Model than into my Heart Rate Zones. Perhaps I'll join my local IA (Ironman's Anonymous) support group for recovering addicts - the accountability would be good for me! But, as long as Craig is offering foot massage's and letting me talk about having kids in the far nearer future than he is interested in... perhaps, I'll just milk it a wee bit longer...

This is the dress that saved me from my first case of post-partum depression - I guess I can't just go buy another one, but I'm thinking of hauling it out of retirement and wearing it around the house tomorrow. Maybe that's all I need. I can't wait to see Craig's reaction when he gets home from work and if for some reason, tomorrow is the day that he decides to invite ALL the boys over for beer after work - so be it! I'm very delicate these days!

Race Report

Here I am... Officially an Ironman for the 2nd time! And what a journey it has been...

I hardly know where to start, it was a really long and emotional day in so many ways.

I had a great sleep the night before the race, it was exactly what I needed! We had an early dinner, then one last evening beach visit, and we were all ready to pack in for the night. I was lights out by 9 pm, which made it very easy to be up and ready to pound back the carbs by 5 am. We left the hotel by 5:30, I felt really good, relatively stress free and fairly excited, so it was a much different race morning than 2007! We met Rachelle, a fellow athlete and Calgarian the day before at our hotel and it turned out to be a friendship that was great for all of us! We went down to the race together, stood in line for body marking and then double checked our bikes and had a last minute stress-pee. I met up with my family before I said my final goodbye, we met at the fences that seperated the athletes and spectators, so it was sort of like I was in jail, going off all by myself...

I met up with Carolyn and Sara so that we could start the race in the water together. I was never in a million years expecting to actually stick with Carolyn, but I was happy to at least start together. We started on the far left side of the start line, which was a much wiser choice in terms of not getting beaten up by the big boys that were front and center. On the negative side, I'm sure we added distance on to our swim, but that's fine with me. After the horn went off (much to my dissappointment, it wasn't a cannon blast like in previous years), we were on our way. I can't believe it when I say it... but I was on Carolyn's toes right away and I stayed on them the whole way! This is a mass swim start, it was nearly 2800 athletes all starting together, so how I managed this, I will never know! It was so great, Carolyn got to do all the work and I got a nice draft the whole swim. There were even a couple of times I had put my head up and slow down a bit, in fact, I'm pretty sure Carolyn was annoyed because I kept hitting her toes (she'd never admit it, but I bet it was annoying). I had to fight off a few people who were trying to get in my way, but I had no problem giving a good elbow jab or kick, and in the end it was worth it, because my swim time was 7 minutes faster than 2007!

Out of the water, there were tons of wet suit "strippers" waiting for us to rip those suits off as fast as possible, then off to grab my bike bag. I wore my tri suit under my wetsuit, so I only had to get my helmet, shoes, and glasses, and I was on my way to my bike. I had a 6 minute transition, which was fast enough for me, then I was on my way. I saw my whole crew of cheer leaders just a kilometer or two up mainstreet after I exited from the transition zone. It sure makes a difference to see people cheering for you, not that the streets weren't lined with thousands of spectators, but it was just nice to see some familar faces. Kind of felt like the Tour de France.

Unfortunately just minutes into the bike I felt a sharp, shooting pain in my back and side... and this was the beginning of what would be a LONG day of cramps, stitches and a heck of a lot of pain. I tried to stretch it out and let my stomach relax thinking it was just from too much lake water in my guts, but after about 30 km, I realized that I was just going to have to think about something else cause the pain wasn't going anywhere.

I tried to take my mind away from it and not let it ruin the experience, which was challenging, but I think I was somewhat successful in that. I enjoyed the bike ride as best as I could. I had a short stop before the Richter's Pass climb, the great volunteers held my bike while I did the famous port-a-potty squat. I tried to stretch out my back a bit thinking it might help with the cramps (it didn't) and took a minute to take in the moment. Back on my bike, I started the gruelling climb up Richters. I actually found the most relief from my stitches and side pain when I was doing the climbs, so oddly enough, I found myself finally being able to use some of those hard-earned quad muscles, I passed quite a few people on my way up the hills (normally not the wisest race strategy, but I at that point I already knew that my race strategy wasn't quite what I was planning anyways). Of course, whatever goes up, must go down.... so I got to hang on for dear life and ride my way down the other side of the mountain pass! I saw my odometer go over 65 km/hr - at which point I hit the brakes and started saying my prayers (quite scary when you actually think about it!). The Rollers weren't nearly as bad as I was excpecting but my back pain was starting to get unbearable. I held on until I got to my special needs bag at 120 km, after the Rollers and the horrible out and back (that I honestly thought was never going to end!!!). I was planning to stop for a little break and enjoy my cookies, have a stretch and pee break, but I was starting to get nervous that I might not get going again considering the pain I was in. So I got right back in to the saddle and was on my way. I passed The Bear Fruitstand and dreamed of my milkshake from the day before, thinking that if I didn't have a really REALLY good reason to finish (for Uncle Bruce), I would have very likely scrapped everything at that point and just enjoyed another milkshake while hitchiking back to town. The Yellow Lake climb was very challenging, at this point, it was SO hot out (over 30 degrees) and it felt like the sun was directly over my head and there was no escape from the heat. When I got to the summit of Yellow Lake, I stopped for a minute to dump a bottle of water on my head and compose myself for another death ride down the other side of a mountain... at this point I got a huge wave of dizziness and I definatley saw some spots! I thought for sure my race was over becasue I was sure I was going to pass out and I was sure that they would never let me go on if I did. Luckily, thanks to another great volunteer, I used his lawn chair and recovered for about ten minutes while the dizziness settled. After that point, it was pretty much all down hill, into a giant cloud of smoke and heat (thanks to the forest fires!) and back in to Penticton.

I saw the whole crew again out cheering in front of our hotel. I didn't stop on the bike because I knew I would see them again shortly on the run, but I definately slowed down enough to see them with every sort of noise maker that the dollar store sells. Under Alison's direction, they had songs and dances prepared for me and every other athlete out there. If there were awards out there for cheering - they would definately win!

T2 was equally as fast as T1, I was out and ready to go in only a few minutes, which was good. My legs didn't feel to bad at all, much to my surprise, but within the first few steps I knew what I was going to be facing as the stitches in my side and back were as bad as ever. At this point, my whole stomach felt like it was in a knot, and I knew that any hope of getting calories of any kind into my guts was not going to happen. I ran/walked as planned, but the runs were pretty brutal. Zoe met up with me after the out and back on Lakeshore Drive, and ran with me up Main Street until I reached the Super 8 Motel, and all of the cheering squad. It was nice to have a few minutes with Zoe, she was very encouraging and she let me vent about my stupid stomach issues. I stopped for a minute when I saw everyone, secretly hoping that someone else would want to take over from that point and finish the last 36 km... unfortunately there were no takers. What a shame.

I carried on with my 10 and 1 run/walk plan, but I also chose to walk up the steep hills and walk through the aid stations. I managed this for the entire first half, which was great, better than I was expecting considering at that point the pain was awful. I saw Carolyn just near the turn around point at Okanogan Falls, she was just on her way back the other direction. We stopped and had a good chat for a minute or two, and Bob, Carolyn's husband, who was waiting at that point, kindly let me use his cell phone to call Craig and let him know that I was half way done the run portion, and not passed out on the side of the road. My stomach hurt way to much for me to eat anything (in fact it had been over four hours at this point since I'd had anything but water - which is awful!), so I was pretty disappointed that my kit kat bar went to waste!

After the turn around, I saw Rachelle was only a few minutes behind me, so that was great news, she was doing great! My run, at that point, turned into a shuffle-side-holding-hunchback-of-notre-dame type movement. I kept a decent pace, but it certainly was a sight to watch! I bet it was funny! The last half of the marathon was rough for me because I felt like my insides were going to explode, but then again, being on the way home was very encouraging and at that point, I could count down the mile markers until the finish line!

I saw Zoe again with about 5 km left, she gave me a great pep talk and helped pull me in the rest of the way. At the turn onto Lakeshore Dr for the last 2 km stretch I saw everyone doing their cheering, as well as thousands of spectators. At that point, I was pretty sure that each and every person who lined Lakeshore Dr was out that just to cheer me on that last mile! I felt like a super star and I definately tried to put on my smiling "I'm not in pain and I could do this all again tomorrow" face (it was tough, but I dug deep)! I had to run the last 500m with a bit more speed than I had left in me because I wanted to at least make it in under 15 hours, definately a disappointment for the time, but I can't say I was too upset, just happy to complete it. I crossed the line in 14:59:25, and I was greeted by a volunteer who would stay with me until I was safely out of the athlete's area and dropped off with my family (the volunteers really make the event!!!). I guess there are too many emotions going on to really feel the pain or hunger or anything else, but I felt surprisingly good, I didn't pass out (also a goal for this year!), and I was ready to go find my family fairly quickly after I got my finisher Tshirt and hat (shame, it wasn't pink!).

Rachelle crossed the finish line about 15 minutes after me, so I waited for her and we had a bit of a breather in the grass before we could collect our things and head home. I ate a bag of salt and vinegar chips, which at the time seemed like the most appetizing thing I could ever eat! With not much energy left, we made it home, ordered a pizza, and collapsed into bed. I think everyone was equally as tired and hungry and exhausted...and ready for the day to be done!

I thought I would wake up stiff and sore, but I was sure that my stomach cramps would be gone at that point. I was wrong... I had that same stitch in my back and side, on the right half of my body, and my stomach still felt like it was in a knot! After returning home and still being under attack from this pain I finally went and saw a doctor. It turns out I have shingles on my right side and all that pain that I suffered through is nerve pain that comes with having shingles! What luck!?!? I guess that makes me a super-Ironman because not only did I do the race, but I did it with shingles and in a lot of pain!

As of now... I've definately felt better, but I think I'm on the mend! My side and back still hurts a bit (a lot), kind of like a knife stabbing my lung every time I take a breath (it actually really sucks), but not enough to kill me! Every day I feel better, so I'm sure this will all be behind me sooner than later, as well, I only have a very small rash on my back, I suppose it really could have been much worse.

Comparing my two Ironman races, 2007 and now, I definately had two very different experiences! I can't say one was better than the other, just different. The first one, I found the training stressful, but the race day was so exciting and such an amazing experience because it was my first one. The second Ironman, I found the training to be so much fun and something I enjoyed every minute of, however the actually race day was pretty painful and a bit of a disappointment considering my time could have been so much better. Regardless, I know that Uncle Bruce was there with me in some way or another, and I know that finishing the race was the most important thing for both of us, and I was successful at that. So there you go... I have completed the task at hand, and I think it would be safe to say that Uncle Bruce and I finally got to do an Ironman together, after a very long journery to get there! It was worth every ounce of pain!

I am definately NOT doing another one (next year anyways... just kidding... but not really)! But I can garuntee that I'll be there next year with a volunteer tshirt on (REALLY hoping the volunteers get pink tshirts!) and ready to keep the tradition going!

The Whole Ironman Family (minus Zoe and Arin)

I'm not quite sure I'm ready to retire this blog yet... we'll just have to see...