Race Report - IRONMAN California

Before I go any further into the actual race, I need to say "Thank you" to HS. He stuck by my training for IRONMAN California 2021. He consoled me when I cried on the way home after it was canceled. He stood by me for my second year of training. I'm sure he wanted 2022 to happen just as much as I did. By this point, he was familiar with my training plan. Two weeks of hard training, one week recovery (welcome to Masters training). He kept the pool clean for me well past the time we are normally swimming and he was the one to encourage me to get my bike to the shop for a long overdue tuneup. THANK YOU, HONEY!!! LOVE YOU!!

Pre-Race

HS and I drove up to Sacramento on Thursday. My plan was to check-in first thing Friday morning, buy lots of IRONMAN stuff and head back to our place to rest. This year was different in so many ways. For one, the sky was clear and the sun was shining. The IRONMAN village was set up a bit differently. I really liked how they had it last year with the Sacramento letters in front of the capitol but it was great to be able to sit out on the grass and wait for the athlete briefing to start. Another difference was that we weren't required to wear a mask. You could see all the smiling faces.

Signing the IRONMAN board

#1478 Redemption ✝

Check-in was extremely easy and uncomplicated. I had pulled up my QR code on my phone and had my drivers's license ready. That's all I needed. 

As I waited in the relatively short line, a woman walked up to the lady standing behind me and asked if this was the line for registration. The lady replied "Yes" only for the woman to ask if it was the line to sign up!?!? LOL The lady replied that the event was sold out and the woman walked off down the street. At that point I turned around and looked at the lady who was holding back a laugh. I asked "Who decides to sign up for an IRONMAN at the last minute?"

Back at the house, I laid out my bags and sorted out my gear. There would be several checks and re-checks before taking my bike to the stadium on Saturday.

The gear bags sound confusing at the athlete briefing 

but actually aren't that hard to figure out

Saturday afternoon finally rolled around. I had spent the morning going over everything and trying not to panic. It was time to drop off my bike and gear bags. Unlike Vineman, all of my gear was going to one location.

Here's goes nothing...

My bag decorations left something to be desired this year.
The stars were a last minute purchase and didn't stick very well.

How many millions of dollars in bikes are on the field?

Morning of the Race

Last year it was hard to say if the chaos in the morning was due to the storm or if it was the parking situation. I'm fairly certain in 2021, people had to pay before they entered the parking lot. I just remember a long, unmoving line of cars that forced me to hop out of the truck in order to get to my bike.This year, however, we were informed at the athlete briefing that drivers would pay when they left the parking lot. We parked quickly and easily this year. 

Not the best pic, but at least we got into the parking lot

HS walked with me up to the stadium entrance. I pointed at a kiosk where he could prepay for the parking and told him I was going to go put the Gatorade in my bike and check on things and then I would be back.

I followed a slow line of athletes down to the field. On the way I checked to see if my bike gear back was where I left it and in tact. At my bike, everything looked as I left it. I filled the Fuelselage with Gatorade, checked things over one more time and turned to make the long slow trek back out of the stadium. Back in the unsecured world full of spectators and significant others, I located HS and  pointed the way to the shuttles. While I was in the stadium, I heard a number of announcements telling everyone to make their way to the shuttles in order to get to the swim start. I was amazed at the number of people still walking the opposite way towards the bikes.

When we arrived at the shuttle pickup location, we found three full school buses and one small bus that looked like a hotel shuttle. Eventually they pulled away and we stood there in the chilly morning wondering when the next shuttles were coming. At the athlete briefing and in the athlete guide, it was stated that the shuttles were for competitors and spectators. If only 3-4 buses returned, there was no way everyone was getting on. I think IRONMAN staff figured this out and someone who looked official and had a bull horn, announced that only athletes were to get on the shuttles right now. The crowd squirmed and waited. Eventually a few more buses showed up.

HS gave me a kiss and agreed to pray for me. At this point we were going to have to part ways. Little did I know that I wouldn't see him again until finishing the first loop of the bike. When the bus in front of me opened its doors, an older couple pressed forward. Athletes concerned with getting a spot on the shuttle started yelling "Athletes only". It was amazing to watch the older couple try and ignore the fact that they had a stressed out, anxious mob yelling at them to not get on the bus. They ended up on the bus. I'm sure their son or daughter was so proud to keep a competitor or two off the bus so mom and dad could ride with them. Sad.

Considering that the swim is only (Only? LOL) 2.4 miles, the ride seemed to take forever. As I looked out the window, I watched two wetsuit clad athletes racing the bus on a pair of those rent-a-bikes you see all over downtown. They were flying and seemed to be having a blast. I did see on a post-race Facebook post that one of the guys crashed but was OK and was still able to compete.

Not my photo, but someone on the bus was able to snap a shot
of one of the guys that took matters into his own hands.

I exited the bus and tried to figure out what to do next. I decided, given the chill in the air, that putting my wetsuit all the way on would help. I baby oiled my arms and wiggled my way into the neoprene. Next, fingers crossed, I grabbed the zipper pull and hoped that I would be able to zip myself up. Success. I then put on my cap and stapped on my goggles. I brought a large bottle of water to sort of prep myself for the river water. I walked towards the "Morning Gear Bag" drop off area and poured the water into my wetsuit. At least this would help cut down on the shock of cold river water running down into the zipper along my back.

The announcer started calling for sub-hour swimmers and instructed them to line up on the bike path. Next he called for 1:00 to 1:10 swimmers. I stood in line and immediately felt out of place. I was 100% sure everyone behind me was faster. I took a few steps back and eased myself towards the end of the group. A lady standing next to me remarked that she didn't like the look of the pack of large men behind us so she moved back to a less bulky and threatening looking group. Eventually I settled in right in front of the 1:10 to 1:20 group. I had no idea how two years of sporadic, tethered pool swimming would translate into an open water, river swim. My main goal was to meet the cut off and not drown.

Swim

As the group of swimmers moved forward, I saw a gentleman shaking hands with the athletes as they passed him. Being an unabashed follower, I stuck out my hand to shake the stranger's hand. At that moment, when I looked up at his face, I realized it was Mike Reilly, "The Voice" of IRONMAN.  With my right hand firmly gripping his, I placed my left hand on top and gave him a heart felt shake. Knowing that I would be competing in one of the last few races before he retired was something special to me. I couldn't wait to hear him announce my name when I crossed the finish line. Knowing he was going to be at this race was one of the things that kept be going when I wanted to quit. I released his hand before it became awkward and continued the slow march to the river's edge. 

Local news came out the cover the start (I'm back there somewhere)

Here's a link to the local news coverage: CBS CW31 IRONMAN Coverage

As I neared the water they announced a two minute pause. Ugh. I calmed myself for the shortest and longest two minutes of my life. The race proceeded with four athletes entering the water every five seconds. Two more people in front of me, one person in front of me, oh no, I'm next. Beep. I started my Garmin at 7:20am and was off on my adventure.

I waded out into the water until it was deep enough to swim. The water was chilly but not unbearable. The first part of the swim headed almost straight across the river similar to my first triathlon ten years earlier about a mile downstream. I swam towards the buoy and hung a left and proceeded to swim downstream. I really couldn't tell if there was a current, but when I looked underwater, you could definitely see the aquatic plants pointing the way to go. There was a current even if I couldn't feel it. From what I had read online, you could really feel it once you reached the Sacramento River.

I swam along peacefully keeping towards the outside. I had no intention of mixing it up in the middle and preferred the quiet. Eventually I swam under the Jiboom bridge and could finally see the orange buoys marking the Sacramento River. I followed the group and soon realized that there was an orange buoy to our right? Uh oh? Is everyone cutting the course? I corrected my trajectory and headed across the river towards the seemingly out of place buoy. Several other swimmers flailed at at the water, struggling to swim upstream towards the buoy. I paused for a few moments and let the throng go by. They were fighting each other and the current. Eventually, I entered the fray and grasped at the rope holding the buoy in place. I pulled myself forward and around the buoy before releasing myself into the flow of the river. Once again, I moved towards the outside.

Another "borrowed" photo showing the swimmers going under the Jiboom bridge

LESSON LEARNED: The photo above is of the Jiboom bridge. The same bridge I walked across to get to the swim start of my very first triathlon, The Golden State Triathlon. The swim start was to the right of the bridge above. It was a very short swim straight across the American River. Our exit point was a rickety wooden staircase that climbed up from the sandy bank. During our practice swim, Coach James, told us to NOT swim towards the staircase but to swim slightly upstream. Even though the current wasn't that strong, it would push us towards the exit point. This lesson was completely forgotten until after IRONMAN California. If I had aimed myself further upstream from the first Sacramento River buoy, I would have had a much easier swim and wouldn't have had to fight the current and other swimmers to get around the buoy.

The Sacramento River part of the swim definitely went by faster than the first half in the American River. Before I knew it, I could see the gleeming gold Tower Bridge. As I shakily climbed the exit ramp, I looked at my Garmin and swore I saw a 46 minute time. WTH? I was elated! What an incredible time. The excitement induced me to run all the way to my bike. I couldn't believe how good I did. Well, that's what I thought at the time...without my reading glasses, I got some of the numbers wrong. I think it was more like 1:00, but it was still good.

I should look much happier at this point (being out of the river) as 
I reach back to unzip my wetsuit.

T1

At the top of the swim exit was a line of wetsuit strippers. I laid down on my back and put my feet in the air. Two volunteers grabbed a side of my wetsuit and with a quick tug popped it off of my legs. I thanked them as they handed it back to me and I proceeded to run through T1 to my bike. I entered the stadium on the mile plus transition and grabbed my bike gear bag. Since my wetsuit was off and I wasn't changing out of my Pearl Izumi tri suit, I jogged all the way down to the field and my bike. I put on my socks, shoes, helmet and glasses and shoved my swim gear into the bag. I unracked my bike and beaded toward the mount line. It almost seemed too easy.

Bike

I crossed the mount line, clipped in, and was off. The last thing on my mind was the hit and run. This is why I was here. I wanted to prove that I was not going to let my love for cycling or IRONMAN racing get taken away from me.

I made my way around the stadium, through the single file, no-passing construction zone and out onto the bike course. The roads at this point were smooth and uncongested with riders. It was a moment of racing bliss. I reminded myself that the headwind was supposed to be on the way out and then we were going to be treated to a nice tailwind on the way back. I checked my Garmin and saw that I was easily maintaining around a 20 mph pace. If this was the headwind, I couldn't wait for the turn around!

Smooth sailing on a closed course...bike bliss

I proceeded through the course enjoying every moment. Even Babel Slough Rd which had been bitched about for months online didn't seem that bad. I've rode worse levee roads than that. Babel Slough could rattle your teeth for a bit, but it was fine, I was riding, that's all that mattered. After about 3-4 miles, Bable Slough gave way to smoother asphalt and easy spinning returned. I cruised along at about 20-22 mph for the long stretch on Jefferson Rd and then I turned onto Courtland Rd and hit a crosswind. My speed dropped to 16-17 mph. My smile waned as I leaned into the wind and gripped my handlebars.

Based on my start time of 7:20 plus my hour swim and 17 minute transition, I was out on the bike course at roughly 8:40am, about an hour and a half before the gusts started. I hit Courtland Rd, my first pass down it, about an hour into my ride. I could definitely feel the wind at this point. It was a strong steady crosswind. Hmmm...that means it's blowing out of the north and I've been riding with a tailwind this entire time. Crap! I knew I shouldn't believe what I was reading on the internet!

Not ideal riding conditions but at least it wasn't raining

I turned onto Ryer Rd and once again had the wind at my back. I remembered to drink frequently and had my nutrition timing dialed in. The wind became much more noticeable up on the levee road to the turn around. I was nervous looking at the steep edge and stayed out of my aerobars for better control. I eased around the tight turn at the turnaround point and headed back. Then things got real...real ugly.

The long fast stretch on Jefferson Rd became a soul crushing battle. The wind gusts made it hard to relax into an aero position for any amount of time. Just when I would ease back down, the wind would grab my front wheel and jerk it. I would pop back up making riding into the wind even more difficult. Nutrition became an issue too at this point because I didn't want to take my hand off the grips.

Trying to smile for the camera as I get passed

Every once in a while I would get passed by a "group" of riders. I longed to suck on to a rider's back wheel just for a break but then I was reminded of my Scripture reading from hours before the race. Here is what it said: 

"Similarly, anyone who competes as an athlete does not receive the victor's crown except by competing according to the rules." 2 Timothy 2:5

So, I played by the rules and did my best not to ride in anyone's draft zone. However, the windier it got, the harder it seemed for athletes to separate themselves. It's one thing to pass someone when you are going 20 mph. It's another thing when it's taking everything you've got to go 10 mph. I looked forward to the second loop and the much needed break from the headwind.

Headed back to the stadium, lap 1 almost done

As I neared the stadium, I saw HS and my spirits lifted. He cheered for me as I went by, unaware that just a few miles ago I was considering pulling over and calling it quits. I made the turn at the stadium and headed back out, trying desperately to keep my mind from thinking about the ride back.

Smile for HS...so glad to see him!

The winds were stronger on the second lap and I did what I could to take advantage of the tailwind while I had it. I'm not sure if the direction of the wind had changed or if I was just worn out, but I didn't get up to quite the same speeds I did on the first lap. At least it didn't feel like it.

I think one of the worst things about the out and back course on this particular day is that you got to watch the athletes struggling going the opposite direction. Here I was flying down Jefferson Rd as the people on the other side of the road grinded along stone faced. I knew that would be me in a matter of time. After making the turnaround at the top of the levee, I sucked up what energy I could and peddled my way back to the stadium. 

So many great bike photos from FinisherPix!

Knowing that I needed to eat something and knowing that I wasn't going to be able to safely execute that task while riding, I pulled over at an aid station. I took my time refilling the Fuelselage on my bike and started picking through all of my empty Gu wrappers with shaky hands. A volunteer came up to me to see if I needed any help. I explained that I was just cleaning out some garbage. She put her hands out, pressed together like a bowl and said "I can take those for you, just give them to me." I almost started crying just from her act of kindness of trying to help me sort my trash. I thanked her, pulled myself together, and started riding again.

At this point, spinning away in my small chain ring, I reminded myself that I had to keep riding. Even if I wanted to quit, I had to get back to the stadium. I cursed the wind. I cursed my stupid decision to race. I cursed just to curse. I watched the miles slowly tick by and wondered about cutoff times. I was amazed at the number of riders still heading out in the other direction and thanked God  that I was almost done.

T2

Eventually, I made it back to the stadium and transition. I dismounted my bike and decided to make a pitstop at one of the porta-potties. I was amazed at how clean it was inside. I sat down and peed more than I ever thought possible, especially given the fact that I didn't drink much in the last couple of hours. As much as I was enjoying sitting in the porte-potty, I knew I had to get up and keep going.

I walked my bike back to my numbered spot and racked it. I pulled out my run gear bag and took out my shoes and a fresh pair of socks. Then I sat down on the ground. I swapped out my gear and stuffed some candy in my mouth, not even thinking about getting something to drink. I knew I couldn't just sit there all afternoon, so I slowly got up and walked towards the run course. My Garmin had this part of my journey at roughly half a mile. 

There was a table set up with sunblock and I craned my neck as I went by hoping to see some lip balm but there wasn't any. I continued my slow walk out of the stadium and started my shuffle run when I hit the start of the run course. HS was there, once again to cheer me on and snap a few photos. Seeing him again brightened my mood for a bit.

Headed out on to the run course. 

Run

On any other day but this day, the run course would have been amazing and fun. There was a short out and back that took the athletes past Drake's "The Barn". Patrons enjoying beer and pizza cheered us on from the large fenced in grass area that lined the path. A train from Old Sacramento passed by with more cheering people which added to the festive atmosphere.

The route then took us on another out and back that stretched past Miller's Park (a place I recognized from cyclocross). At this point, my attitude got pretty bad. The course stretched along the top of a levee that allowed athletes to continue to get blasted by the wind. My run/walk turned into more of a walk and I started having serious doubts about whether or not I wanted to continue. My face was dry, my eyes itched and my lips burned.

I pressed on knowing that if I stopped, I would absolutely hate myself in the morning and would more than likely feel compelled to attempt this one more time. At this point, I could not imagine going through all of the training again. 

Eventually, in some off-ramp looking downtown-ish area before Old Sac, I came across a small aid station with a large tub of Vasoline set on the corner of a table. There were five wooden sticks in it so I grabbed one and put a large dollop of the greasy gel onto my finger. Honestly, my lips were so dry from the wind that I probably would have used a jar that had been sitting in the gutter. I smeared a thick layer on and around my lips and wiped the rest on my suit. Relief.

The course proceeded through Old Sacramento, which was cool. The street was lined with more cheering spectators. The challenging part was picking up my tired legs high enough not to trip. Its hard to do the IRONMAN shuffle on cobblestone streets. 

The course again made it's way along the top of the levee and back to the American River. I crossed the Jiboom Bridge and was on to the American River Trail. The sun was still up as I entered Discovery Park, but I knew it would be getting dark before I finished the out and back portion. I had a light clipped on my race belt but only had it for "just in case". From what I read on the Internet (Again, why do I believe this stuff?) the run course was going to have plenty of light from portable lighting. This turned out to only be half true. Yes, there was portable lighting, but it was only at the aid stations. In between aid stations, no lights. 

The American River Trail, at this point of the race is lined in tall trees. It was a welcome buffer to the wind and I felt my spirits pick up just a bit and I found myself running more than walking. The miles ticked off ever so slowly at this pace, however, and each mile marker only served to remind me of how much further I needed to go. 

Nightfall came over the course and I turned my light on just past the turn around. The course took on an odd feeling. Faceless shadows moved towards me with lights either on their caps or belts. It was like watching a line of miners trudging along in a cave. There were a few runners around me that didn't have lights. I figured they would stay close to share in my illumination, but they kept their distance. Although the trail was relatively smooth and free of debris, I still like to see where I'm stepping.

Close to re-entering Discovery Park, I could hear a dog barking. As I approached a grove of trees, I could see a big dog with a rope hanging from its collar. It was clearly upset about the intrusion on his evening and so it stood at the edge of the trail barking at each athlete as they passed. I sped up slightly, unwilling to have my race ended by a dog bite. 

I crossed the Jiboom bridge again and readied myself for a photo. I had seen the race photographer when I crossed the bridge the first time, but he was gone at this point. I guess it was too dark. I was bummed. I passed a woman headed the opposite direction and she asked what mile I was on. My brain wasn't functioning too well at that point and I responded "I don't know" and I seriously didn't know. It didn't occur to me that I could have looked at my Garmin, but it was dark and I didn't have my glasses so it probably wouldn't have helped. 

The course finally came down off the levee and under the freeway and into an oddly vacant feeling area. There were new streets waiting for future development. I could see runners ahead of me, but I still felt alone and a bit scared in between the streetlights. I crossed a large overpass and entered the downtown area. A male runner came along side of me on F St and commented that we only had about 5 miles to go and that we should be done in less than an hour. He jogged off and I thought "Speak for yourself. At my pace I will be lucky to be done in an hour." 

Finish Line

Typically, I don't separate the finish line in my race reports, but this one was going to be special. I had been looking forward to hearing Mike Reilly, the voice of IRONMAN, call out my name as I crossed the finish line. This was one of his last races before retiring. This was going to be special. However, in order to get to that moment, I had to circle the finish line two times! In my mind, I wasn't even sure how this was going to work and worried that in my mentally tired state, I would mess something up.

As I neared the finish area, I saw a Mile 22 sign. Ugh! Four more miles to go. I then came upon a split with a sign. Laps 1 and 2...arrow pointing right, Lap 3... arrow pointing left. There was also a volunteer loudly instructing everyone which lane meant what. I kept to the right and shuffled/walked along. Eventually, the route got close enough for me to see the lights of the finish and to hear Mike Reilly's voice. In about 45 minutes that would be me.

The course looped around the Capital Mall area and then out around the back side of the capital through the park. There was a small out and back section with timing strips (this is how they were making sure everyone did their laps). I continued on and eventually made it to the split. I kept right again and was tortured with having to go ever so close to the finish. 

This time, as I neared the back side of the Capital, I saw HS on the opposite side of the street making his way to the finish. I ran over and gave him a kiss and apologized for taking so long (I realized how hard this day had been on him). I wiped away a few tears and shuffled off. Finally making it to the split and veering left. Before entering the finishers area a volunteer confirmed I was on my third and final loop. I said yes and started to run.

Here's one of HS's pics of me coming up to the finish.
I really felt like I was running much faster than I was LOL

Since I didn't want to cross the line at the same time as another athlete and have my moment ruined, I started running as fast as I could. I felt like I had wings on my feet (HS's video shows different LOL). I ran as hard as I could, separating myself from the lady behind me. I crossed the line and threw up my arms and heard a female voice "Tracy Pengilly from Stockton, California, You. Are. An. IRONMAN!" 

It didn't register immediately that that wasn't Mike Reilly's voice. Honestly, at that moment I was just glad to be finished. I had set out to complete this race and I did.

Post Race

With the extra long transition distances, this 140.6 mile race came in at 141.98 on my Garmin. I'm not ready to commit to doing a full IRONMAN again but I'm also not ready to say this was my last. 

As hard as this race was, I just can get enough of this feeling...

The finish line area seemed a bit chaotic. I had to search for someone to give me a finisher medal. Thankfully they pointed me to the people giving out the finisher hats and shirts and I found the post race photographer. According to the Internet...yeah, I know...there were food trucks at the finish line feeding athletes. Either I completely missed them or they were gone by the time I finished, but I didn't see any food trucks. 

Finally got my hands on a medal

Typically, at the end of a long race, HS has already picked up my bike and gear. However, being that the finish was downtown, he didn't want to risk having his truck broken into. We headed back to the stadium to get my stuff. It was odd coming back to the stadium. It seemed like it had been ages since I was last here.

HS came down to the field to help me collect everything. He offered to go by himself so I didn't have to walk, but I wanted to go into the stadium one last time :-)

My poor bike covered in Gatorade and dirt

A few last pics...

Finisher swag! Worth every mile.

Life (leg) savers...made recovery so much better

This race has great potential so I hope it sticks around for a while. Next year I plan on coming back as a volunteer after that...who knows :-)

IRONMalaise

I was going to write something about nine weeks ago...this is as far as I got.

So, last October, my attempt at a redemption race that would put me back on the road was sidelined by a bomb cyclone. Ironically, after that deluge of rain, California has been pretty dry. I am about eleven weeks from the event that was canceled last year and I am struggling.  

Just a bit of rain in 2021

And that was the end of that post. Actually, I can't call it a post because I didn't post it. I just left the words to stagnate in draft status. The sad thing is that I used to really enjoy writing my blog. This year, though, something is definitely different. 

Last week was the IRONMAN World Championships in Kona. Something that I used to dream about being able to do. Normally, I would be devouring all the posts and photos about the competitors and their bikes and the race. This year I found myself scrolling by with out even much of a pause. I have even less interest in the race I am supposed to do in about 2 weeks and this is causing concern. The Facebook posts about IRONMAN California seem to cause me a lot of anxiety, so I've been trying to avoid looking at those too.

Back to this post, I was going to start off by saying I am struggling with a feeling of malaise, but since I wanted to make sure I was using the term correctly, I looked it up. 

The dictionary definition says:

ma·laise

/məˈlāz/

Learn to pronounce

noun

a general feeling of discomfort, illness, or uneasiness whose exact cause is difficult to identify.

"a general air of malaise"

The definition didn't seem to exactly fit how I was feeling but it seemed close so I kept looking until I found something on WebMD. 

"If you have a sense of malaise, you may not feel quite right, but you might be hard-pressed to put your fingers on exactly what's bothering you. It's not a condition, but a set of symptoms linked to some other problem. When you're in the grip of it, you might have fatigue, pain, and a lack of interest in your usual activities."

Ok, here's my list of symptoms:

• Uneasiness - CHECK (I have an IRONMAN in two weeks!)
• Fatigue - CHECK  (I have an IRONMAN in two weeks!)
• Pain - CHECK  (I have an IRONMAN in two weeks!)
• Lack of interest in usual activities - CHECK (But I have no idea why.)

The last symptom is the one that bothers me the most. What happened to my interest in training? What happened to my interest in triathlons? What happened to my interest in writing my book?

My triathlon based novel has gone untouched for several weeks

These are all things I used to enjoy and now it's all I can do just to get through a workout. I think I'm mentally worn down from basically two years of training and no reward. After last year's race was canceled due to the weather, I switched gears to running for a few months and that helped take my mind off of triathlon training. Eventually, I restarted my IRONMAN training plan and was less than enthused. 

ILLNESS & INJURY

Of course, during this second round of IRONMAN California training, I caught COVID and was down for a bit (I completed a post about my COVID experience but never posted it. LOL It is now posted HERE). The marathon I was training for had to be done virtually because I was still testing positive. 

Then in June I managed to break my pinky toe which kept me from running for a bit (I did put in a lot more time on the bike trainer though).

Last but not least, with only three weeks to go, I stepped of a curb, twisted my ankle and foot and somehow managed to scrape up the top, bottom and side of one hand. The hand looked worse in the beginning, but the foot definitely felt worse. I've been moving my workouts around to buy me a little more time before I attempt running again but there is still a noticeable pain in the arch of my foot and sometimes my ankle. It's not like I'm going to set any records on the run, but I am prepared for a much slower than normal pace.

Slightly swollen

LOOKING FORWARD

Ok, so I am now a few days closer to race day because I couldn't find the enthusiasm to finish this post until today, October 12, 2022...ten years and five days since I completed my very first triathlon, the Golden State Triathlon. Coincidentally, the swim at the Golden State was in the American River just down stream from the start of IRONMAN California. 

On the bike at the 2012 Golden State Triathlon

So, I've done some soul searching and have decided to make finishing and enjoying the race my #1 and #2 goals. I am abandoning any unrealistic goals such as beating either of my previous IRONMAN finish times. Let's be real,  I was 6-7 years younger and several pounds lighter. On top of that, I have no idea what my fitness level truly is. With the illness and injuries and altered training I have no idea what to expect.

Looking for that finish line high one more time!

Here is what I hope to accomplish in order to consider this race a success:

1) Finish 💪

2) Have fun 😁 (Better be smiling in the race photos!)

3) Don't freak out on the bike 😱 (Proving myself on the bike is the reason I signed up for this race).

4) Sub 13:00 hour finish time 👌

Here's looking forward to great weather and an even better race report!

Sidelined by COVID-19

So, last weekend we held a low-key 70th birthday party for HS. In the past we had held surprise parties and funny themed parties for his big milestones, but for this one, he said he just wanted to get together with family. So that's what we did. Little did we know that a theme would develop days after the candles were blown out on his cake.

I'm not going to name any names in this post, everyone is entitled to tell their own stories...so I will keep things very general. To start off, everyone at the party was probably pretty much aware of everyone's vaccination status...we were all family and have gotten together several times during the pandemic. I would say this was probably one of the first get togethers where the virus wasn't a major topic of conversation. Talk of the virus had dropped out of the news and guests chatted about kids in college, retirement plans, aches & pains, and other stuff.

We know 100% for sure who started the chain of events. However, out of our entire family, they are probably two of the most cautious in terms of catching or spreading COVID. They were both vaccinated and boosted. Since they had recently returned from a trip back east, they tested themselves on the Friday before and the Saturday of the party. All their tests were negative. I'm not sure what prompted them to test again on Sunday evening, but when they did, their tests were positive.

I read the"We tested positive" text at 4am Monday morning. I got up and took a test and was relieved to see it was negative. When I got into work that morning, I pulled up my employer's ever changing policy to see what exactly, if anything, I needed to do being that I had a good exposure window on Saturday. I followed the policy and waited for the advice nurse to get back to me four hours later. I was instructed to go home. If I tested negative on Thursday, I could come back. I wouldn't get that far. I tested positive on Tuesday morning.

My test results on Tuesday, started a brief debate with HS. He said you could hardly see the line (I think he was in denial). I told him it didn't matter how dark the line was. Next he said that the line didn't look blue. I told him I didn't think the color mattered. By that afternoon, however, the line was a bold, blue undeniable answer. I had COVID. After two years it had finally caught up with me in my own home.

Back to Monday, HS and I started the awkward task of letting our guests know that they may have been exposed. Over the next couple of days I started hearing back that people were testing positive. We had people that had COVID previously that were also vaccinated and boosted that caught it again. There were some that were never vaccinated that got it. We have had one spouse that caught it but the rest of their household remains in the clear. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to who got it this time. The good news was that most of the symptoms and their severity were the same regardless of vax status.

Friday morning, I woke up, took a dose of Tylenol Cold medicine and plopped on the couch. I was thankful that Thursday and Friday were "rest" days on my training calendar because I still had hopes of a miraculous recovery that would allow me to compete at the Modesto Marathon this coming Sunday. Previously I had contacted the race director about transferring my entry to the "virtual" marathon, but I really didn't want to do that. I decided that if I took a test and it was negative, or maybe had the lighter results of the first morning, I would hang on and wait. Unfortunately, my test results were quick and definitive. I switched to "virtual" and shed a few tears.

I reminded myself that my main goal of the Modesto Marathon was just to have something to focus on so I would keep in shape until IRONMAN California training started. The entry to Modesto served that purpose. I stayed in shape, dropped about 12 pounds and was feeling pretty healthy and ready to jump into IRONMAN training. Regardless, it is still a huge disappointment not to be able to race. After the 2021 IRONMAN California was canceled at the last minute due to a bomb cyclone, and then a very disappointing finish at CIM due to a injury, I was looking forward to a tiny bit of redemption...just a small boost. Now I will have to wait.

Today, my symptoms feel like a mild annoying cold. I would say the worst I felt was on day 2 and that was mostly due to my headache and the body aches. I am so used to feeling a bit sore all the time from training that I forgot what real body aches felt like. Thankfully, they subsided the next day. Actually, if I want to know how I am going to be feeling today, all I need to do is ask "Patient Zero". They are about one day ahead of me in terms of recovery. 

Since I woke up feeling relatively good, I have decided to forego any cold medicine. My stomach is really getting jacked up from taking them all week (along with the zinc and other vitamins). Plus, I was tired of my head being in a fog. I thought it was the COVID making me feel that way, but I think it was the cold meds.

IRONMAN California (CANCELED) Race Report

Let me start by saying that this will probably be my shortest race report as the inaugural IRONMAN California was canceled due to an historic storm in Sacramento. Lots and lots of much needed rain...

On top of that the wind was crazy strong...

PRE-RACE

This was my third official IRONMAN branded race. Previously, I completed IRONMAN Vineman and IRONMAN Santa Rosa 70.3. So these are the IRONMAN experiences I am comparing IRONMAN California to. IRONMAN California was far above the other two races in terms of organization, staging and communication. I would say the only weak point was parking the morning of the race. 

In order to control the number of athletes at registration, I had to select a time to check-in. I chose Thursday morning between 10am-11am figuring that it would take about an hour and then I could attend the 11am athlete briefing. The whole check-in process was extremely efficient. I was in and out in about 10 minutes! HS and I did a little IRONMAN shopping and then found shelter under a small awning with other athletes waiting for the briefing.

Trying to stay dry as we wait for the athlete briefing

Also during registration, I had to select at time to drop off my bike on Saturday. This was handled by simply choosing a business sized card with an hour time slot. I always worry about how things are going to be handled and what I need to do, this was super easy.

I was glad I waited for the briefing. Although most of the info was available in the athlete guide, there were a few changes that had been made to race day logistics. Due to the predicted rain, wind and cold, the organizers added full changing tents and instructed us to bring our "Swim to Bike" bags to the stadium with our bikes on Saturday. I appreciated the fact that they were willing to make last minute changes.

IRONMAN mask was part of the swag

After checking in on Thursday, we headed back home. I spent the next two days checking the weather and making last minute changes to my gear and spraying Scotchgard on everything that wasn't designated by it's manufacturer as waterproof. I also added a few decorations to my bags. 

Decorated my bags to help me locate

Glad "Press N Seal" worked great protecting my 
saddle and bike bag for the overnight stay in the rain

Saturday afternoon was an easy drive back to the ball field. It was cloudy but dry. I prayed that the weather people were wrong about their forecast for Sunday and that my biggest problem of race day would be ditching unnecessary layers of clothing.

Such a cool place for transition

Bike bagged up and tied to the rack

As I said earlier, the communication for this event was great. Saturday evening, after HS and I had already went to bed, I received the text message below. HS also got a notification on his phone because he was following me on the IRONMAN app. On top of that, I received an email with the same info. Since I was just laying in bed unable to sleep, I saw the phone screens light up. Curiosity got the best of me and I got up to check. 

When I saw that one loop of the ride was being cut, I was a little relieved. I knew that I could easily complete 56 miles, even in the wind (Well, "normal" wind, not what we woke up to LOL). However, I secretly wished it was the swim that was being cut. I was shocked that even after the accident and my fear of riding on the road, I was still more afraid of the swim. At that point, all I could do was climb back in bed and stare at the ceiling.

RACE MORNING

Race morning finally arrived. I got up, fixed some coffee and started dressing for the race. Instead of wearing the Pearl iZUMI tri suit I got in 2018 during my last year as a PI "ambador", I opted for the two piece kit I wore for IRONMAN Vineman. Actually, I was just wearing the shorts and a sports bra for the swim...less wet clothes to deal with. 

As I sipped my coffee, I scrolled through the various IRONMAN California Facebook groups. Some athletes were upset about the ride being shortened but most seemed to accept the change because it was made in the name of safety. I noticed a post about the change in the start time, so I re-read the text from the night before and saw that the start would now be at 7:30am. This was a relief because I had noticed that it was still dark at 7am, the original start time. I really didn't want to swim in the dark.

HS and I adjusted our leave time and I continued getting ready which included another double-check of my remaining gear bags. Since it was now raining heavily, I slathered my legs in baby oil and slipped on my wetsuit up to my waist. The wetsuit would keep me warn and dry until I had to climb into the American River. I then covered my feet in vaseline and slipped on my neoprene booties followed by a pair of shoes. 

The drive from Roseville (staying with my daughter and family) was a bit disconcerting. The wind gusts could be felt as we drove in silence. Neither one of us wanted to mention the fact that the truck was being blown around. How was I going to be able to ride in this. I'm not a very light rider, but I knew I didn't weigh enough to feel stable on the road. I was starting to get panicky about swimming in this kind of weather too.

At the athlete briefing we were assured there was plenty of parking at the ball field (for a $15 fee) and that our support peeps could come and go all day. The weather the morning of the race may have forced more people to drive instead of walk from their hotels because we were at a standstill once we got off of I-5 (we used the J St exit, not sure if that was the best choice, but we weren't alone). 

When we finally made it to the intersection of Tower Bridge Gateway and Riverfront St I told HS that I needed to get out and get to my bike. We had intended to ride the shuttle together to the race start but I was worried that at 6am, I was running out of time. From the athlete entrance it was a winding route down on to the field where the bikes were waiting. HS gave me a kiss, told me he loved me, and I hopped out into the rain and ran across the street. I hoped we would meet up again before the swim start.

The red star marks where I finally got out of the truck

I walked up the area where the blue "Swim to Bike" bags were carefully lined up. I looked for mine and found it on the opposite side of where I was told to place it on Saturday. I tapped the top of the bag to check that my helmet was there and kept moving down to the field. Everything was soaked and the field was getting a bit flooded. Even though the entire field was covered in an interlocking plastic grid, mud and water pressed up with each step, soaking my shoes. 

Photo from one of the IMCA Facebook groups
credit to Bev Raines Hess

I dropped my red "Bike to Run" and grabbed my Gatorade and filled the bladder on my bike. Just then an official sounding voice came over the loudspeakers. At first it sounded like he was just reiterating the info I received in last night's text and email. However, the content had changed. After talking about the severity of the weather, he announced that the race had been canceled. I bent over and grabbed my knees and started to cry. I know there are much more important things in life than a race but I had so much emotionally invested in this endeavor that the announcement was soul crushing in that stormy moment . I stood up and looked at the faces of my fellow athletes. I wasn't alone in my disappointment. 

The announcer instructed us to get our bikes and gear and make our way out of the stadium. At this point, the wheels sort of came off the well oiled machine. The initial instructions said to leave the way we came in. It was like swimming upstream as athletes were still making their way into the stadium. I went through two sets of volunteers that were checking wristbands against the number on the bikes (thankful for that). I asked about my timing chip, but no one seemed to know what to do with them at that point. Just as I got to where the blue "Swim to Bike" bags were, a volunteer was turning people around and telling us to go the other way. 

I made eye contact with a guy on the other side of the railing he asked "What do you need?" and I answered "Can you get bag 631 for me?" He quickly located my bag and handed it to me. I thanked him and turned around and headed back towards the field. Eventually another volunteer opened up a space in the fence and pointed us to an exit. The next thing I knew, I was outside and had no idea where Hot Stuff was and I didn't have my phone.

I hoped he was still waiting in line to get into the parking lot so I walked in that direction. Cars were still lined up. The wind blew my bike around in my hand as I tried to push it with a bag balanced on the aerobars and two in my free hand. I walked the entire perimeter of the stadium before stopping at the entrance where soaked athletes were waiting in line to collect their gear. I scanned the cars driving up the street and the parking lots. It was still dark and the rain and the lights made it impossible to see much. I stood in the rain and waited.

Eventually I decided to change out of my soaked jacket and put on the clothes I had intended to wear on the ride. I had a long sleeve thermal jersey and a waterproof cycling jacket. I stood out in my bright yellow and pink jacket in the dark wet morning. No sign of HS though. 

From behind me I heard a woman ask a volunteer about her timing chip. The volunteer answered that she could take it. I unstrapped the chip from my left ankle and handed it the volunteer and thanked her. I returned to my search for HS. After about 20 minutes I decided to circle the stadium again. Although it was still raining heavily, dawn had started to lighten the sky. I felt like a lost child, too shy to ask to borrow a cell phone. Eventually I saw a familiar shadow coming towards me, I finally found him or more accurately, he found me. He helped me with the bags and opened the back door of the truck as I hoisted the bike quickly inside.

As it turns out, he gave up trying to park and drove to the swim start only to be told that the race was cancelled. He drove back to the stadium, parked, and was able to get down to the field because he had a ticket that allowed him to retrieve my bike for me. This was supposed to happen while I was out on the run, not the morning before the race started. When he found my bike rack (everything is well numbered) he realized I had already been there and was gone. He probably walked past me as I was standing by the entrance looking for him.

Mint condition swim cap and bib

Honestly, there were moments during our drive home that were scary and we were in a 4x4 truck. Every time a gust of wind shook the truck, I was thankful that IRONMAN made the difficult decision to cancel the race.

LOOKING AHEAD

After the rain and my tears subsided, I took some time to reflect on the opportunity I was being given. I went into this race feeling scared and under-prepared. I figured I might do another IRONMAN California some time in the future but 2022 was not in my plans. With the cancellation, it was like I was being handed a do-over. HS seemed to be 100% onboard with 2022 as well :-)

Part of my uncertainty about the race was due to an unspoken level of self sabotage. I had a race weight goal. I made a half-assed attempt and only got half way to my goal. I also knew I should get my bike in to the shop for a tune up because it's been on the trainer for over a year. That didn't happen. I procrastinated until it was too late. I did put new tubes, tires, and a chain on the bike myself, but couldn't bring myself to take it anywhere. I knew I should probably go on one of the group rides or swims on the course, but I stayed home.

Thankfully, my deferral to IRONMAN California 2022 is automatic so I can't do anything to sabotage that. I've already created a new spreadsheet to track my weight race goal. With a little less than a year until the race, there is no reason for me not to meet my goal. I've also decided to do more workouts outside instead of hidden away in my house (See "Tethered By Fear"). I will also break out of my comfort zone and participate in group rides on the race course and practice swims in the river.

First run outside in the books!

On top of that, I am super excited for the new team I joined "IRACELIKEAGIRL". Real triathletes that also have a Zwift presence...for those days I decide to stay inside :-) 

Here's to October 23, 2022! 

PS: I knew there would be more... I will age up in 2022 and although I will 54 at race day, my late December birthday means I will be in the 55-59 age group. This is a welcome surprise because this year my age group was the largest women's group!