Moving Forward. Your Only Option (Ironman Canada Run)

One of these days I am going to get this right!  The marathon of the Ironman.  Running is my passion.  I have been a runner since I was a young girl.  I have always loved it.  In 2010, I couldn’t WAIT to get to the marathon of Ironman Coeur d’Alene.  That’s where my magic would happen.  We won’t go back and talk about how not magical that day was was.

Canada…my time to redeem what had happened in 2010.

My run training was kicking butt!  Aside from the fact that… I trained only 9 weeks for Canada.  I almost didn’t race, and literally at the 11th hour, called a friend and coach of mine, to see if we could salvage this Ironman in any way.  We had 9 weeks, start to finish.  7 training weeks, and 2 weeks of taper.  **Now (disclaimer) I do not, and would not suggest this training plan to anyone.  AND, I am not coming from a seat on my couch into this training.  I had an incredibly strong base to start with.  So, I went into this race thinking “just finish” and  ”what can I push my body to do?”

So back to the story~ Off of the bike into T2, I was feeling great!  My bike had been awesome, and I had tons of gas in the tank, my body feeling awesome!  In T2, I talked to myself…..talked through the fact that even though my training had not been as it should, I was feeling GREAT!  I felt strong, had hit my long runs, but was a little concerned that my longest run had been 17-miles.  HOW.  WAS.  I.  GOING.  TO.  PULL.  OUT.  ANOTHER.  NINE.  MILES?  But I trusted my training.

This time in transition, I did have a “personal attendant”  She was sweet, and we talked about Ironman Lake Stevens 70.3.  She was wearing the visor from this years race.  I commented and let her know that I would be racing there next year. (My first 70.3)  Yes, I do things backward!  As I changed, she told me her story about her race….that’s all I remember.  Not the story…but that she told me about it….and wanted to keep telling me about it, as I was trying to leave transition.  HAHA!  Three things were going through my mind at this point; 1. I felt GREAT!  2. Don’t forget to hit the water station on the way out to fill my Napalm flask, and 3. Ummm….the friend I caught on the bike was probably out of transition (BOYS!  They are so much faster) and there needed to be a little chase down!

Right out of T2, I saw my friend who was volunteering.  I ran towards her, screaming and fist pumping until I got to her embrace.  We hugged and jumped up and down, screaming!  What a great moment!  It’s moments like that during these races that are unforgettable.  It’s something you carry with you.  Something, you dig out of your heart pocket later on when you need a pep-talk, and a reason to keep moving forward.

I rounded the corner back down the Lake Drive.  This part of the course at the beginning of the run is so fantastic.  Lined with spectators, cow bells, horns, kids running all over, people waving their signs, and one of the best places to see family and friends. It’s lined with restaurants full of cheering “fans.”  This part is also one of the hardest parts (for me) because when you are finishing, you run RIGHT past the finishers chute, and have this one-mile loop heading away from the finish, back out, then turn around to head back to the finish.  It’s bittersweet.

Along the first part as I was heading into this little loop, I saw so many friends.  People who had made the drive up to Canada, JUST to cheer us on.  Again, seeing people you know, means the World.  I came up to the turn around, and the first timing mat, and saw my family.  Screaming, and jumping up and down!  I stopped for photo ops, sweaty hugs, and to chit chat for a brief second.  I told them, I was feeling SO great.  Running on dead legs (that is to be expected and I know that goes away) but over-all I was feeling like a million bucks!  They then let me know….that our friend, was right ahead of me.  They told me, “you have to go catch him!”  **I love living in this town.  There are a lot of triathletes.  All of them our friends (even if you don’t know one another, there is that bond).  It is so nice to have healthy competition!  So….with a little wave, I was off.  I caught up to my friend, and chatted for a minute.  We laughed because I think he knew, I was coming to chase him down.  Then, I was off!

I knew that people had said this run course was “challenging”  I had driven in a few weeks prior when my friends and I came up to ride the bike course.  It was challenging.  Some really good hills!  But I like that type of run course.    It was also beautiful, with sections along the lake, that I knew would take my mind off of any issues that would plague me.

My first 3-4 miles, I felt so good!!  I was keeping a great pace.  Smiling, waving and talking to spectators and people on the course.  That is another wonderful thing about racing.  The people you meet along the way.  I cannot say this enough!  I was, at this point thinking to myself, that this race was going to be amazing, with the way I felt.  I tried to keep on my target pace, per my coaching and training, but a few times was having a hard time keeping my pace under control.  I felt THAT good!  Then, out of nowhere…pain!  Pain, in my ribs, pain in my lower abdomen.  Not sickness, but stabbing. I blew it off for a few minutes, until it hit again, so hard that it stopped me in my tracks, and doubled me over.

WHAT THE…..?

I stood back up, and walked a few steps.  I felt alright, so I started to run again.  WHAM!  Hit again.  Doubled over. I really could not figure out what was going on.  I stood up again, and walked.  Feeling better, I started a slow jog, and again, one after another after another, these stabbing pains in my ribs and lower belly.  I could tell that they weren’t necessarily from GI distress.  I have been down THAT road before.  This was different.

I decided I just needed to walk a while.  I had a young girl (maybe early 20′s) walk up to me…we talked.  This was her first triathlon.  The 2nd woman I had met on this course, that this was their first, ever triathlon.  WOW!  She was struggling a bit also with some leg pain.  It’s nice to have someone to commiserate with.  We decided we would try running a bit, but it ended for both of us quickly.  We tried to stay positive and encourage one another.  Again, we ran, and stopped.  This continued for probably another mile.  A very long, excruciating mile! Then…like magic, her leg cramps disappeared.  She was sweet, and said, she felt bad to leave me.  ”Are you kidding me?  GO!!”  ”Rock the rest of this race!”  My words to her.  I hope, she had a fantastic finish.  I never saw her again.  I dropped her story, pain and gratitude into my heart pocket.

I started to become really down, somewhere around 10 miles.  This was a disaster, and I just could not figure out what was going on.  I kept stopping at aide stations, port-potties (thinking maybe….that was the problem) but noting was helping.  Just before mile 11ish, I just couldn’t take it.  I sat down.  I had literally just passed a man, laying in the dirt, curled up into a tiny ball, writhing around.  I stopped and asked if he was alright, and did I need to flag down medical.  He moaned, and said no.  This is the thing about Ironman, these althletes are some of the toughest people I have met.  That utter will to finish at all cost.  That determination, fortitude, courageousness, bravery, and resolve is like none other.  I could tell this man, in pain and in the dirt, was going to pull it together and finish!  As I sat on the road, everyone that passed me asked about my well-being.  Kind, good-natured, merciful people..all concerned about their fellow racers.  My heart was sinking at this point.  I really was uncertain that I would be able to finish.  Tears pricked my eyes.  I had COMPLETELY blew my time!  I was sad, angry and unforgiving to myself.  Medical came up to me, and asked how I was and if I was done with my race.  ”Paula, are you done with your race?”  Am I?  I shook my head, no, and he asked if I could please stand up and walk with him a few steps.  I did, and when we reached his bike, I didn’t stop.  He yelled to me, to have a great rest of my race.  I just kept walking with my head down.

Another aide station…I stopped and went into the Porta-potty, and just sat there.  It was steaming hot in there, and I just sat.  Then….all of a sudden, I hear it…my husbands Scooter!!  NO WAY!  He’s out on the course, driving and looking for me.  I came bursting out of the potty to see him disappearing around the corner.  I was about to lose it from sadness.  I just needed to see him.  My heart broke!  I walked through the rest of the aide station in a fog.  I heard a few people ask if I was ok…I ignored them.  I was in misery.  Still in pain, still unable to run, and now…my biggest fan just missed me.  I took a tiny sip of water at this aide station.  The 1st one in a while.

It seemed like forever before I saw my husband.  He had driven out to the turn around, Run Special Needs, and was a little concerned he said, when he didn’t see me.  Thank goodness he had to come back.  This run is a out and back.  He stopped and I told him, I just wasn’t sure I was going to be able to continue on.  I walked and he rode in the road next to me.  I wanted to just hop on the back of his scooter, and be done with this whole thing.  He told me, our friend who I had passed at the start of our run was not doing well either.  Same issue as me, and was not far behind me, but was struggling as well, and was considering stopping.  I continued walking. Hubs said he was going to ride up to special needs and wait for me.  He left.  I wasn’t sure, truthfully, if I would make it to special needs.

I plodded along, meeting another woman walking who told me this was her 2nd Ironman.  After the first one she said she would never do it again.  Then….her best friend developed cancer, and it was her goal to overcome cancer, and complete an Ironman.  She told me with tears in her eyes of the journey of her friend.  Her surgery, radiation and chemo.  About her incredible braveness to be undergoing chemo, but making the decision to sign up, train and race IM Canada.  More and more of their friends jumped on board, and there were a whole group of them racing, honoring their friend’s fight to make it to the start, and ultimately to her first Ironman finish.  As we walked, she told me how sore she was, and that every part of her wanted to give up, but she just couldn’t.  ”Look what my friend has gone through…if she is still out here, we are still out here!”

Again…another story I tucked into my heart pocket, and continued forward.

As I came down the hill towards special needs, I had that familiar pang of wanting to stop, but then thinking, there are only 13.1 more miles to go.  I had come 127.5 miles….was I really going to stop, or was I going to will myself on, remembering the stories, not beat myself up for blowing my run time, for allowing myself to show some grace to my body and soul for being a “runner” who was not running on this day?

I got into special needs, and almost to the timing mat and turn around, when from out of nowhere my friends BOUNDED in front of me over the mat, and said, “I’m gonna beat you!”  And over that timing mat he went! It made me laugh so hard!  And I felt happy, that he must be feeling better.  I saw my hubs and sat down with him with my SN bag.  I took my shoes off and noticed the huge blisters covering the entire bottom of my right foot, a blister along the right edge of my foot, and wrapped up around my pinky toe.  My  last two toes on the right foot were also red and bleeding at the cuticle.  No wonder my feet had started to hurt.  I changed my socks, and put some BioFreeze on my feet.  That stung, but cooled them down, and it felt incredible.  I got up, took a sip of water and told my hubs that I was going to try to make it one more mile to the next aid station.  I handed him my 2nd gel flask, because I knew I wasn’t going to use it.  I wasn’t taking in any nutrition at the time, and just couldn’t.  I had managed in the first 13 miles to down my Napalm, but barely.  He said, “are you sure you want me to take it?”  Knowing he could not give it back to me if I needed it on the course.  On course help during an Ironman (besides the aid they provide) will get you DQ’ed.  I had him take it, and off he went to meet me at mile 14.  BIG Mistake!

As I watched him ride back up the hill out of special needs, I wanted to bawl!!  People cheering me on were not helping.  I was so miserable!  I hated ever step I took.  I hated everything about Ironman.  I was mad at myself, mad at my body, mad at my mind, mad that I hadn’t trained harder, mad that I had decided to race at the last minute, and just irritated about the whole RIDICULOUSNESS of an Ironman race!  And I was sad, for all of the above reasons.  Such an overwhelming stream of emotions.

And then something dawned on me….I had barely had any water!

The Beginning of the Run.  Feeling great!

Stopping for a photo Op with my friends and family. 

Paula Nilges...YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!!!

I figured it was about time for me to sit down and get some Ironman thoughts down.  However, it’s not very likely that I will ever forget every single second of my Ironman day.

All of my hours, weeks, and months of training all came together in one day, Ironman Coeur d’ Alene, June 27, 2010. It was a spectacular race.  Very special to me, because it is held in my hometown. 

Since I was a young, even a teenager, I have had my eyes on Ironman.  I watched these “super-athletes” compete in the most grueling endurance sport ever, and for some CRAZY reason, I thought that it looked like something I wanted to tackle.

The week leading up to the race was just a frenetic buzz of energy around this city.  My friends and other racers met for short rides, runs, swims, and sometimes just for coffee, JUST to get our minds off of what was coming.  I have had the wonderful privilege of meeting some of the most awesome people through all of this.  From here in CdA, to out of town, and even out of the country.  The Tri community is like nothing else.

Things started heating up on Thursday when the IM Village opened up.  We all headed down to see what vendors were there, look at new bikes, wheels, gear, you name it.  Friday we had our athlete banquet/welcome dinner, we were able to sit with 2500 other racers, have dinner, and get PUMPED UP watching videos and hearing the one and only, Mike Reilly speak to us.  The energy was amazing.  Tears were flowing.  We were ready!

The voice of Ironman, Mike Reilly

Our Coeur d'Alene group.

My amazing, and gorgeous training partner, Natalie

Saturday was gear and bike check- in.  Going over my bags got me feeling a little unhinged.  Morning bag, bike bag, run bag, bike special needs bag, and run special needs bag.  WOW!  I was happy to be able to take them down, and drop them off, along with my bike and let them go from my mind.  In the transition area, you could see, and feel the nerves.  Everyone looking over their bikes, checking tires, mechanics, bento boxes etc.  This was when all of this really hit me. Reality hit me over the head.  I WAS ABOUT TO EMBARK ON THE GREATEST TRIATHLON ever.

Sunday morning, my friends and training partners met.  It was not just another day and we knew it.  Our bodies, shaking uncontrollably, only able to have small talk, and lean in for frenzied hugs.  All of our minds were elsewhere.  I got my body marking done, and my stomach was in knots.  My body was shaking, I was sick to my stomach.  I went into my bike, put all of my fuel onboard, and checked, over and over, counting my food for the day.  Checking to make sure calories were correct in my bottles.  2- 20 oz bottles of Heed in the lower cages, H2O in my Areo-bottle, 2- 31/2 hour bottles of Perpetuem on my seat mount.  In the Bento boxes, pretzels, baby red potatoes with sea salt, a few gels, Cliff blocks, Endurolytes, SportLegs, and Race Caps, and GasEx strips.  And a gel flask, mounted onto my top tube.  WAY more than enough fuel. 

We made our way down to the beach for the start.

Stretching into our wetsuits, getting more anxious by the second.  We had small talk, trying to get our minds off of the day.  We checked our goggles, made sure our neoprene caps were on straight, as well as out regular Ironman swim caps….and the cannon went off.  2500 athletes all diving into the water at the same time.  I have watched this from the shore, and it looks like a million piranhas fighting in the water. 

I got in, and was pretty quick to realize it might be a while before I could actually pull off a full swim stroke.  Bodies were everywhere.  Elbows, heads, knees, feet, some swimmers, riding right on the back of my legs and knees.  I was ridiculously calm, although fighting in this mess of sharks.  I kept thinking to myself, “Paula, you are doing this…stay relaxed, you have worked so hard and so long for this, no matter what happens, stay focused and in the game, this is your dream, Baby!!”  Heading into the first turn buoy, was CRAZY.   Every body in that water came screeching up on one another.  Frog kicking, treading water.  This was the only time I felt like I couldn’t breathe.  There was hardly any forward movement, but a lot of kicking, and drinking of water.  Passing the first buoy was fantastic.  Getting to that first turn- around at the beach was amazing, I felt so great!  Back into the water for the 2^nd loop.  I felt so strong, and so relaxed.  When I came out of the water the 2^nd time, I could not believe it.  After all, swimming is the worst of my disciplines, and what I looked forward to the least...and who swims 2.4 miles, anyways??  I could hear the crowd, hear the music, and I felt so alive, and courageous.  I ran up the beach, peeling my wetsuit down to my waist, and up to the wetsuit peelers.  Ok, these folks really have their act together.  Yelling out, waving their hands for you, and BOOM, you are on the ground, wetsuit ripped off in 1 second by two people, and a third to pull you back up standing.  Then you are running towards the bike bags, volunteers, yelling out your number.  I was handed my bag and pointed to the changing tent.  Inside were hundreds of women, peeling off wet clothes.  My volunteer, sat me down, asked how I was feeling, dumped out my bag and started changing me.  She handed me my gel and bagel, and put my socks, cycling shoes, helmet, sunglasses and jersey on me.  She then took out my sunscreen, and slathered me up, asked if I was ready, and pushed me out the door, towards my bike.  I didn’t get her name, but THANK YOU!!

I easily found my bike.  I had practiced this the day before.  Grabbed it, and headed out of transition, onto 112 miles on the bike.  It felt good to be heading out onto the course.  The sun was shining, the crowds were rowdy and loud, really pumping you up.  The first 90 miles I was way ahead of schedule on the bike.  I was gearing well, climbing excellently on this hilly course, and flying on the down hills.  I know this course like the back of my hand, and know exactly where I can and do make up time.  I felt great!  My fueling was going well, my body felt strong.  At a few points on the course Greg, Corey and Thomas were able to pull along side of me, in a Press Car.  That was such a treat.  Seeing them, made me smile, and kept me pumped.  This is NOT something that happens every day on the Ironman course.  No one is allowed on the course except staff, but thanks to some “special people” I was able to have some “special attention” They pulled up along me one time, as I was climbing in the baking sun, and started CRANKING the Black-eyed Peas.  YAAAAAAHHHYYYY!!  “Tonight’s gonna be a good night!”  I was smiling, and it gave me a great push!!

The sun was getting hotter, and the last 20 miles, was getting hard.  The wind picked up and my speed started to drop.  My stomach was started to hurt.  I didn’t understand why.  I pushed on, but was started to feel my body coming undone.  Heading back into town, which is on a flat, the headwind was ferocious.  I was really having a hard time keeping any speed.  My legs were burning, and I felt like I was barely moving.  I was happy to make the final turn that was going to bring me back in T2.  The crowds again were going crazy. 

Through the whole course, the crowds were amazing.  I have raced A LOT of races, and man…they make you feel like a super star.  The aid station workers are amazing as well.  VERY supportive.  I pulled in one time to use the biffy, and they grab your bike to hold, grab you H20, and ask how you are feeling.  VERY attentive.  Every volunteer in this race is top-notch.  There is NO way this race could exist without them.  I have heard CdA has the best.  I whole-heartedly agree.

Mom & Dad giving me a HUGE shout-out!!

Back into T2 and into the changing tent, where I saw a familiar face.  My friend Michelle.  I almost cried, in fact I did, and so did she.  She changed me, and said, “You are doing this Paula.  You are going to be an Ironman tonight!!!!” And out I went…

I ran out of T2 to see Greg and Mariah by the fence.  They were screaming and yelling, as I took off on my run. 26.2 miles...here we go!  I was feeling pretty good, and I was surprised, that my legs felt so great!  I headed out of town, passing people, watching my pace, checking my time, thinking, Dang….this is going to be the best part of my race.  I am a runner…this is what I do!!!  Then…. a couple of miles in….my stomach.  My stomach was cramping up so bad.  This cannot be happening.  It was so hot out, and I thought maybe I needed some electrolyte, and water.  I couldn’t even take a sip.  How about a gel?  No way.  I was sick.  The cramping got worse, and I finally had to stop and walk.  I was crying.  Who would have thought, the BEST part of my race was going to be the worst?  How humbling this was to me.  I came back through town, and even the crowds were not helping.  They were screaming, and I was hurting to the point of absurdity.  My gut was killing me.  I just kept moving forward.  I kept checking my time, and knew at this point there was NO way I was making my goal time.  Just keep moving I kept saying to myself.  I was trying to encourage others around me too.  We were hot, tired, and this was the part of Ironman, that I knew the mental tenacity needed to kick in.  I saw some friends along the course, and they knew I was in trouble, and hurting.  They hugged me, THANK YOU, JESACA, KIM, KIANDRA, FAITH, AND ALLI (your kiss Alli, made my day baby girl), you have no idea how much that helped me along, and kept me going.  And Jeff... seeing you and Ellie, having you running along side me down the sidewalk, shouting to me that I was looking strong, made me feel invincible.  Made me feel how proud you were of me!

I had so many thoughts in my mind it was ridiculous.  And even at one point, thought about stopping.  I knew I just couldn’t though.  “Give up”, is not in my vocabulary.  Not to mention it wasn’t just me I would be giving up on.  Greg, my kids, my family, my friends, friends Greg works with, my training partners…all who have supported me through this year came to mind.  My Running Mama’s came to mind.  What would they do? What would they be saying? I thought about every single person I knew.  Keep moving.  So what if I blew my time goal, keep moving.  I knew that at some point my body would be screaming at me to stop.  I knew it would play tricks on me, and it would beg me to give up.  I knew that I would face demons like never before that would tell me it’s ok to stop.  I knew I would be pushing myself to the limit, and past. Way past.  I knew my willpower was going to be my only strength.  I knew my God was on my side.  I knew that THIS was was makes you an Ironman.  And I knew how good that finish was going to taste.  As the sun faded and the day cooled, I kept moving forward.  I saw my friend Michelle out on the course on her ATV…”Keep moving girl, she shouted.”  She knows this feeling, being an Ironman herself.  She knew the words to keep me going.  Then finally I could HEAR the finish line.  We were still a mile or so out, and I could HEAR the roar of that crowd.  Like nothing I have ever heard.  As I turned onto Sherman Ave, which is the final stretch, I didn’t feel a thing.  My achy legs stopped aching, my stomach stopped hurting, my mind cleared from the toughness of the day, my body was on a cloud, when just prior it was pushed to the very limits.  I ran down Sherman with my hands in the air.  Saw my daughter Mariah and friends running down along side me, screaming, "Go Mama Nilges!" I knew a dream was coming true. The crowd was high-fiving me, and into the final stretch I pushed.  I could hear Mike Rielly, and tears came gushing out of my eyes.  On this day I knew the meaning of courage, endurance, stamina, humility, fortitude, agony, dedication, will power, pain, euphoria, and grace.  This was all wrapped up in a beautiful bow for me as I crossed the finish line, hands in the air and into Greg’s arms…(yes, he was my catcher, thanks to some special favors of friends.) 

I will never forget that moment.  EVER!  I learned a lot about myself that day.  I learned that dreams come true, and to go for what you want in life.  Don’t hold back, ever! I learned that determination and dedication will take you anywhere.  I learned pain is temporary. That being a little selfish can pay off, and then you get the privilege of paying it back, which feels beautiful. I learned I am a lot stronger than I ever thought I was.  That tears, of both pain and joy cleanse your soul.  That family, friends and complete strangers can make you feel like a rock star, and that with strong will power you can conquer anything.

I had family and friends all waiting for me behind the finish, and it was absolutely worth everything at that point. That feeling of achievement was incredible.

Having that medal put around my neck was unbelievable.  Hearing that long awaited voice saying, Paula Nilges, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN.

I am an Ironman!!!

I am an IRONMAN!!!

I had friends and family all over the USA watch me cross that finish line (thank you East-coasters for staying up late), and even called to say they saw me.  My sister in-law said I had a smile 140.6 miles wide, that I am sure will never leave my face, or my heart!!

Hello...my name is Basket Case!!

My husband is telling me I need to be blogging right now.  Today??  “Are you kidding me?”  is what I am thinking.  This is the point in time, that I think I should NOT be blogging.  I think, people reading my blog with think I have gone off the deep end. And I am pretty sure I might have.  I mean, if I read this…I would think the same thing.  Yep, she’s nuts!!  

I cannot even begin to put into words what is going on with me physically, and mentally.  The tapering for Ironman, the race anticipation, the nerves, the hormones, the energy if this city, my friends, my family is CRAZY.  I cried ALL DAY yesterday.  It was Father’s Day, and I should have been celebrating the wonderful, amazing husband that I have, and I was crying.  Crying.  Every single thing mentioned by ANYONE about IM, made me cry.  I told Greg before we met with his family, to let them know, not to bring up the race.  He told me that was unfair of me to ask.  Everyone is so excited.  I warned them….and yes, even sitting in a bowling alley yesterday bowling with my in-laws, brother-in-law, niece, nephew, our kids…my mother-in law, mentioned how nice the weather is supposed to be Sunday for Ironman….I started crying.  See?  Crazy.

Today, I am just sick.  I have a lump in my throat, and am nauseous.  Having a hard time eating.  

Complete basket case.  I am going over transition stuff with a fine tooth comb.  Over and over.  Obsessing about every little thing.  Looking at it thinking it is not enough.  Each pile.  Swim pile, bike pile, run pile, 2 special needs piles (for bike and run special needs) making sure my pills are all in order.  Race Caps, Endurolytes, Sportlegs.  Thinking about the unknown.  What if I get to “Special Needs” on the bike, and my stuff isn’t there.  Yes, that happens.  Will I have enough fuel on the bike for the ENTIRE 112 miles, just in case?  Same with the run.  Bags not there, will I have enough on me to finish 26.2 miles?

And the swim…THE SWIM.  I have thought about it, drew out maps, visualized where I want to be in the pack of 2500 athletes entering that water.  Inside, outside, in the middle?? Front of pack (uh..No way) back of pack…but then I am quicker that back-of-the-packers.  Do I want to swim inside the buoys or outside?  Inside is nice, because not a lot of people know you can, so less kicks to the face while swimming, but then you deal with the cross-over at the turn around buoy, which you do have to swim around.  I am thinking about getting elbowed, kicked, losing goggles (do I wear 2 pair) about the people that will swim over the top of me…yes that happens too.  GULP!

Heading into this whole thing, I guess I really never anticipated these feelings.  I knew I would be nervous, and anxious, but figured the training would be the hardest part…and it has been long, and hard, but now that I am ready physically, the mental is killing me.

I am up and down like I cannot believe.  And this isn’t just me..This is everyone I know training for Ironman.  Just this morning I have had my phone ringing off the hook, from friends also racing. Emails are flooding in.  Friends are coming into town.  What a great support system we have.  We talked about this on Saturday during a swim, bike and run we did.  So nice to have friends going through the same thing.  ALL of us lean on one another.  And all of us have different concerns, worries, and it is nice to cheer one another along, because you know tomorrow it will be you freaking out.   We have had great BBQ’s together, to take our minds off of things, talk about strategies, have been given great advise from Ironman veterans.  The support has been awesome.  One of my friends last week, cried all day at work, and told her boss she was quitting.  LUCKILY he knew to talk to her, and asked her to wait until AFTER Ironman, to make a decision.  Smart man.

Funny thing is, that we all know, we will be fine.  This is all normal.  The things happening in our bodies....normal.  We have all trained hard for a year, or more.  We will cross the finish line and hear that we are an Ironman.  I know, come Monday morning, next week, we will all gather at Ironman Village as finishers,  with our heavy medal, and our finishers shirts, hats, jackets…and wonder what we were all so crazy about.  We will be sore, and tired, but laughing, and high-spirited knowing we conquered a giant.  And most of us signing up for yet another take at Ironman.  Perhaps we are all certifiable. 

If I looked at myself from an outsiders view, I would most certainly think I need to be locked up today in a straight jacket with a few lithium injections.

Worth the ups and downs?  The crazy taper?  The crying jags, the outbursts that come from no where, the irritable bowels, the puke-y stomach, the weak knees, the pit in the stomach sleepless nights, crabby attitude, aches, pains and jitters?  I would normally say, ask me the day after Ironman…but I can already say, EVERY SINGLE STEP was worth the journey.   Sunday.  June 27^th.  Ironman. 

PS: Ask me in 2 minutes, I may have a different answer.  HAHAHA