#21: Ironman St. George, 2011 - Battle with Apollo

I decided to race in the 2^nd annual Ironman St. George about three days after I arrived home from Arizona.  To admit this as a complete “What do I do now?” full on obsessed panic attack would not be an over statement, I was feeling incredibly insecure and needed to lock up another race just to be able to breathe again.  It is worth noting that most Ironman triathlons sell out for the following year the day after the race takes place, hence why I was in such a fury to sign up for Arizona so quickly in 2009, this is because the races are both popular and typically only allow 2,500 participants to compete.  However, IM St. George was scheduled for May 7^th, 2011, less than six months from when I signed up, and I had no problem getting in… hmmm… I had heard that the course was beautiful, nestled among the red rocks close to Zion national park, but it was supposed to be fairly challenging, too.  I think I heard more than once, “St. George has the toughest bike/run course combination in North America.” Sweet.  I was psyched, still drunk on post-race ambition, and confident that I could carve out a solid training program on my own that would have me properly prepped and primed for 140.6 miles in gorgeous St. George, Utah.

 

Another HUGE bonus for IM St. George is that is geographically desirable, just a couple hours north of Las Vegas, which makes it just over a six hours from my house, not too shabby.  I did have a fantastic “Pep stop” in Claremont to meet up for coffee with my mom and step dad, Kent, because they would not be able to come to the race, and it was quite unnerving for my mama to send me off on my own, so this hour or so chatting before my adventure was mutually beneficial for both of us.  I did have a solid crew of family coming in to root me on, my Aunt Corrie and Uncle Fred would be driving over from Arizona, and Marion would be flying in on Saturday afternoon just in time to see me start the run, but I was on my own for these early days. 

Actually, that is not entirely true… I was overjoyed when upon my arrival in St. George I was quickly brought into the fold of a few fellow members of a triathlon club I joined in the beginning of the year, P5.  I was not the most active member of the squad because I lived about forty minutes away from their epicenter, which meant I stuck to my usual solo training, but these folks were great, especially my super-cyclist friend Mary. They let me tag along with them on the tour of the bike course, a training swim, ride, and an “at home” pro talk with a former professional who shall remain nameless, because he/she gave us the most ludicrous nutrition advice that unfortunately I followed on race day… more on that laterJ  Nevertheless, it was wonderful to have the camaraderie of friends on the race course.

The race day started with a bus ride from the finish line in downtown St. George out to Sand Hollow reservoir in nearby Hurricane for the swim.  I love this kind of bus ride, it reminds me of the airplane flight before skydiving, and the only option is to jump.

The swim was absolutely beautiful.  My swim fitness was not at the peak it was at IMAZ, I did let that portion of training slip since I was on my own, but I knew I could put in a solid effort, and still preserve valuable energy for the difficult bike and run legs that would dominate the day.  I was out of the water in 1:16, bummer, however there was no time to dwell on my lackluster time, next up was meat and potatoes of the course, the bike and run.

Let’s see, how should in describe the bike course?  There are so many adjectives to choose from, but following are a few adequate examples; hot, steep, windy, challenging, unforgiving, painful, slow, soul-crushing, sad, etc. It was by far the toughest course I had ever pedaled across during an Ironman; however my sanity was not completely cracked because the scenery was absolutely stunning.  Everywhere where my feeble-minded head turned I was struck with beautiful red rocks, screaming blue sky, and unique late Spring desert landscape, it was breathtaking. The temperatures were in the high 90’s, and there was very little shade, so I was baking up nicely throughout the 6:16 hour ride, and it seemed impossible to take in enough fluids, both water and sports drink, it was never enough.  I was about half way through the ride when I realized I should have taken salt tabs with me, but I followed the advice from the “Pro” I mentioned earlier who suggested the sodium in the sports drink provided would suffice, maybe for him/her, but that would not be enough for me.  I was losing way too much salt, and salt is needed to keep fluids in your body to prevent dehydration, and I simply did not have enough.

On to the RUN!  I will sum up the run course with one word, WOW!  Luckily I was not feeling the ill effects of dehydration when I started the run, and I saw Aunt Corrie, Fred, and Marion lined up cheering for me as I exited the transition area which was heavenly. The course was unreal, the scenery was beautiful, but there was a steaming cloud of dread surrounding every participant, it appeared like less of a marathon, and more like a Death March.   I would need every ounce of expertise to conquer it, but conquer it I did.  I refused to let the grueling and incessant hills bring me down, instead I embraced the piercing and unrelenting sunlight as an energy source rather than its true identity of skin-searing Sorcerous, and I never let it see me walk. 

The final three miles were pretty shady, and thankfully all downhill. The finish shoot was a fabulous downhill section toward the center of town surrounded by fans and my fantastic mini, yet mighty crew cheering me on toward my 5^th Ironman finish!  They must have known this one hurt more than most, I finished in 11:56hrs., much slower than my recent times, but I had never been so happy at a finish line, and smiled wide all the way back to our hotel where we split up for showers, and promised meet up later for dinner.

 

This is where things get a little gnarly.....

When I was in the shower I started to feel faint, so I laid down for a minute or two, but once I stood up again I proceeded to get sick all over the place.  I gained some strength and normalcy when I changed and went to my Aunt and Uncle’s room, but I told them I would not be up for dinner, and frankly had a tough time stringing that simple sentence together.  I felt sorry for my Aunt Corrie because she was the only parental figure represented at this race and here I was falling apart right in front of her.  She wanted to call an ambulance, but I told her I just wanted to lie down and that I should feel fine later.  I could barely make it back to our rom, in fact I didn’t, I slumped down in the hallway in front of our door and even had some fellow hotel guests’ snicker at my “drunk-like” behavior, but I was not drunk, I was dehydrated.

Once Marion heaved me into our room, he quickly threw on his shining armor and forced me to drink two large bottles of water filled with NUUN tablets, and shouted at me NOT to fall asleep.  All I wanted to do was sleep.  Fortunately, I regained my faculties fairly quickly after Marion’s Magical hydration elixir took hold, and was able to eat some food that Aunt Corrie brought back to our room from their dinner.  I felt horrible that she had to see me in that crippled state, especially since I was the vision of strength, an Ironman, just an hour earlier. I was simply not at all prepared for what the heat would do to me, and was forced to learn my lesson the hard way, follow your own instinct, not the crowd, and ALWAYS BRING SALT TABS!

I was a tad shaken after Ironman St. George, but I knew the lessons learned were greater than the humility of going through them, and I would not make the same mistake twice.