Annette is half Pumpkinman 6:50:36

On August 11th I wrote a post which detailed the need to get my head on straight prior to the half iron. I'm not sure exactly what was going on at the time but I'm thinking I peaked mentally in the beginning of August, right around the time of the Beach to Beacon 10k. Unfortunately it was all downhill afterwards. Instead of using my vacation to recharge my mental batteries I faced a series of challenges in my family's health that caused me to use every ounce of energy I had during the second half of August. By Saturday the 6th, around noontime, I looked at my husband and said, "I don't think I have anything left." He promised me I would be able to finish although I wasn't sure I believed him. I had a serious bout of race anxiety, the kind where you feel like you're walking underwater. I wasn't sure I had everything I needed packed in the car. My bike needed a tune up, air in the tires and was dirty. It was pretty much a hell day.

I drove to Portsmouth, NH to meet my friend Tarra who was my cheerleader, spectator and support system for the race. She followed my progress as I trained and I was so happy she was going to be there. I told her that if we hadn't had these plans, I might not have showed up! After hearing my story she agreed I was probably the least mentally prepared athlete but she thought I would finish.

It poured all night and I dreaded racing a full day in the rain. On race morning we drove to the venue and I got my tires pumped up and my transition area set. I managed to drink half a protein drink and eat a bar. The weather looked like it was clearing around 6:30am. I put my wetsuit on and Tarra and I headed down to the water. We had a brief race meeting and I began to feel happy on the beach, smiling and bouncing on my toes. Tarra took pictures of me. It was a small race, only 173 participants, and I was in Wave 3. Wave 1 was Elite, 2 was the men, and 3 the women and relay team swimmers. "Go Go Go!" We were off.

People, I tell you, I was terrified. Not of the water, I love the swim. I was so scared of the race starting and the long haul I had in front of me. My Xterra wetsuit saved me. I love that thing. Thick and thin in all the right places and slick in the water. I stroked and stroked and zig zagged my way through the first loop. I started to feel fine in the second loop of the swim knowing that I was making progress. I finished the swim in about 49 minutes and ran up the hill to transition 1.

Then my wetsuit and I had a fight. It didn't want to come off. 7 incredibly long minutes later I was finally heading out on the bike. But first, a quick potty break. Some folks manage to (ahem) pee themselves while biking and running but I haven't mastered that skill. And my wetsuit hermetically seals itself to my wrist and ankles preventing any water from washing through so peeing in the suit is also not an option. So it goes.

In hindsight the bike is a source of massive frustration for me. I know I'm slow but this is ridiculous. I managed about 15 miles an hour on the bike. I knew I couldn't get any speed going. My legs, heart and lungs seemed to be working o.k. but I didn't have that strong feeling in my legs. I was grateful that there were no killer hills but 56 miles was a long ride. After about 25 miles I was also in extreme pain. My seat was killing me. I counted down the miles, one by one watching my (somewhat) broken odometer. The rules say no mp3 players allowed so it was pretty quiet on my ride. I prayed, "dear Jesus, please let me finish the race and not be a DNF," and thought up bumper stickers, "Mental fortitude or crazy? You decide, I TRI." Nah, too long. I choked up a little when I pulled in to transition 2. "I'm doing it! One more event!"

I set out on the run and made another quick pitstop. I felt low at the beginning of the run, "It's so hard, this is so long," but I didn't feel like I had any choice. Stopping then was not an option. I did a mental scan of my body and a little twinge in my left ankle was all it showed. It worried me a little but worked itself out quickly. My butt was so happy to be off the bike and out of pain. "I feel o.k., I can keep going." I negotiated with myself that I would walk in aid stations. That was the only concession to rest that I was going to give myself. Luckily the route was set up so we passed back and forth in front of the well stocked stations and the volunteers were always ready with water and gatorade. About midway through the run I started to get irritated. It was taking too long and it was too hard. Irritation gave way to anger because I still wasn't going to stop but I REALLY wanted the race to be over. I made the second turnaround at mile 9.3 and totally bummed. At my 10 minute mile pace that meant I was running for at least another 40 minutes. I shuffled on. Finally a cheery volunteer announced "Only half a mile left! You're almost there!" It was the best news I'd heard all day. I went in the direction she indicated and after a minute faced a signficantly steep hill. "Are you $%@^%*& kidding me!!" I said this out loud, wasting my breath. I ran up some of it and then stopped to walk. In another 30 seconds I saw the field and realized I was right there. The finish was right over the top. "I don't want them to see me walking." I started running again and there was a woman waving an orange flag, "You're there! Go right down the hill to the finish!" I couldn't believe it and I started to cry. I had to tell myself to stop because I needed the breath to finish. Then I saw my time was less than 7 hours and I really broke down. Tarra hugged me and my bottles of water and gatorade and then I went for a swim.

After putting on fresh clothes and having a hot meal of turkey with all the trimmings I felt very cheery. Happy even. I'm still in disbelief that I finished and I wasn't as slow as I expected. I wish I could have come into the race with a stronger mental outlook but certain events were out of my control. The happy news is that my family's health outlook has improved. Fewer worries there. The jury is still out on whether I will race another half iron next year. My feeling is that the international distance like Mooseman is a ton of fun and just the right distance for each event. Just when I'm getting bored it's time to switch it up. The half ironman was a signficant goal for me and I'm glad I cleared it. Now it's time for the Maine Half Marathon and then overwinter training begins.

Thanks for listening and happy training!
Annette