Okay, it is time warp time to present day!!!!!! I hope I will not throw off your diligence of
reading my journey from one marathon to the next, but I must interject here and
share a very special marathon within a very special race, Vineman, 2013. Vineman
is an iron-distance triathlon which takes place in the amazing northern
California wine country. This was my
third time racing, which was setting up to be my 8th ironman, and 27th
marathon, big day. Even though I was
very excited to race, I did not too much pressure on myself because my “A” race
is still a few weeks away in Madison, WI. That said, Vineman was just meant to test out the machine, work
out some kinks, and enjoy the day. The incredibly
special part of this race was that my husband was going to be able to come, and
I would be able to visit with my brother Peter and his family, plus my newly
re-Californiafied step brother Chris, and his family, my younger step sister
would make an appearance, and finally my saintly sister in law Shannon, and my
god daughter Kate would give me the inspiration needed to give this race all
that I had, and more than I knew even existed.
We rented an adorable house in Monte Rio, all I can say is, I
love Monte Rio, and you should all go there as soon as possible, it is
heavenly. I did encounter a few issues
with my bike the day before the race and need to make a change with my rear wheel,
which was both annoying, and liberating because I felt like I had already
survived my spell of trouble even before the gun went off. The 2.4 mile swim starts on Johnson’s Beach along
the Russian River, and even though it felt like never-ending plodding in mucky
goo, I was moving along just fine. When
I came out of the water, tussled with my Rocket Science wetsuit, and noticed
there were many, many bikes still on the rack I was pumped because that meant
my swim must not have been too terrible, so off I went to ride up the mini hill
out of transition and onto the road. I
saw Marion off to the left behind the barriers and I yelled, “How many silver
caps?!” “Not many! GO!” He shouted with a respectful balance of reassurance,
and authority, and off I rode with a smile.
The silver caps is a reference to all of the ladies in my
swim group, ages 30 – 44, or maybe more than that, in basic terms, my
competition. The bike course is a 2 loop
56 mile ride through breathtaking vineyards, and farms that outline Sonoma
County. I pushed my pace hard from the
start, having faith in my fitness, and not at all considering the marathon I
had to run after I was finished with this fabulous spin through wine country. I
have found this is a great metal tactic in order to stay present, because if I think
about how huge a day is, my head might explode.
The first miracle of the day occurred when I was up and over
the “big” climb up Chalk Hill road, and on my way finishing my first loop
heading back to town when I heard, “Go Taryn!!” It was Chris and his wife,
Debbie. I could not believe they found
such a perfect spot in the bike course to find me, especially since this was
their first triathlon spectating experience, very impressive. It is amazing the
impact that hearing your own name gives you when deep into a race, it is like a
shot of adrenaline that instantly gives you super powers.
The spectacular spectator awards continued when I was starting
out again on my second loop and heard screaming voices streaming out of a car
careening straight toward me, it was Peter, Alexa and their amazing kiddos, Kaia
and Reed. Alexa took some straight out
of LAVA magazine photographs from Shotgun, they cheered, and speed away from me
to find a place to pull over further down the road. When I caught up to them
pedaling up a mini hill, Peter yelled, “This is your day!” Chills shot through me, and a sensation of
happiness flowed over me, because I felt so thankful to be right where I was,
right when I was, enjoying the fruits of years of toil and labor and livin’ the
dream.
When I rolled into the transition area ready to start the
marathon I had a sense I was in a good spot, there were nearly no bikes on my
rack, but I did not have a watch on the bike either, so the first time I saw
the time it was when I put on my Garmin to start the run, it read 1:43PM, that
was wonderful. I knew that if I could
run my marathon like I was capable to I would finish the race in under 11
hours, my goal for the last three years.
I started the run feeling good, I saw my whole family on the first of
three loops as we exited Windsor high school, Peter taking his cue to run along
side me as always and assess how I was feeling.
I was feeling good, but I needed to make a pit stop just to ensure a
comfortable run, but otherwise I great. My
stop was short, and I was cranking away sub eight miles for the first three
miles or so, sifting my way through the large crowd of mainly female half
ironman racers, until I reached the turn-a-round point for the ladies, while us
FULL ironman racers still had a bit to run.
The coolness of this next point of my life cannot be understated, I had seen the first place woman screaming
down the opposite side of the road, then about five to ten minutes later I saw
another woman, but that was it. I did
not need confirmation that I was in third place, but I wanted it. I yelled out to one of the female volunteers
near our turn-a-round point how many girls she had seen, “You’re number three!” A warm feeling of pride washed over me when I
heard those words out loud, and saw the look of awe in her expression, wow, I was
in third place! Fortunately, this was
not my first rodeo, so I knew there was still a lot of the race to run, but no
matter what I could be proud of a strong bike leg, and I would run the best
marathon possible to keep my place in the heap.
Once I started to pass by mile eight, all was not looking
well. I had taken a couple of salt tabs to
be on the safe side, even though we completely lucked out with amazing 80
degree temperature, (sorry San Antonio ladies, I know you hate to hear that….),
plus I was drinking water, and sports drink, but my tum-tum was getting a
little grumbly. Let’s go back a bit to
let me explain. I had prepped my bike to
eat two powerbars, two packages of block-type gels, and a Gu gel, well, I lost
one of powerbars early during the ride, and after feeling dizzy and nearly
falling asleep in the aero position, I opted to eat a couple of the Clif bars
they were passing out at the aid stations, a brutal necessity at the time that
came back to haunt me on the run.
Luckily, I was finishing up my first loop and would be replenished by
goodness from my family along the sidewalks as I ran in to start my second
loop. I did regain a bit of a pep in my
step, but once I was back in the incessant hills of Windsor, I needed to stop
again, take a minute to regain my composure, turn off my watch, and take a
20-second time out. When I emerged from the
port-o-potty I felt a sense of strength and renewal, but I was sure that I had
lost my third place position, oh well, I just wanted to finish my 27th marathon.
When I finished my second loop, around mile 17ish, life was
not looking so great. At this point I
had one singular focus, run to the next port-o-potty, cursing those bloody
cliff bars the whole mile stretch I needed to cover before I reached my
salvation. For the first time ever, I
had to wait in line, awesome. It did not
matter, I did my thing, took in some fuel at the two next aid stations, and finally
around mile 20 a calm came over my stomach, and I was ready to run my own
race. I feel a little guilty for saying
this, but I was relieve d to see that the closest girls behind me were looking a
little rough too, so I believed with my renewed vigor I should be able to keep
my third place finish.
For the last six miles I felt right in my wheelhouse, the
tail-end of marathons are my favorite part of the race, and in an ironman, they
are even more special. I looked at my
watch and knew that I would be over eleven hours, but not by much, so I would
push as hard as possible to finish strong.
As I rounded the 25.5 mile marker the crowd on the corner was quiet
until I yelled, ”This is it for me!” They erupted in cheers, and stood to clap
for me loud and proud as I ran down the road to make another turn, then down to
the finish line. Since the race as all
about loops, there was a turn for the “2nd loop” and one for the “Finish”,
when I turned toward the finish option, the crowd around me started screaming,
I heard Marion and Chris from the sideline, and sprinted in for my first podium
finish.
I finished 3rd place overall female, and 1st
in my 30-34 age group, with a time of 11:08hrs, 4 minutes than my previous best
ironman time, and with a 3:59 marathon, finally creeping underneath the 4 hour
ironman marathon boulder that weighed on me for so long. Most importantly I finished
my 27th marathon, only 8 more to goJ
