Kona, HI
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Kim Schaefer
I realized a week or so ago, that I had put so much into this race and my focus was so narrowed into it for the last six months, that it was almost as if I didn’t think the sun would indeed rise again on Sunday, October 11th, but it is, in fact, just about to do that. I am so proud to say, for the sixth time, that “I…am….an….Ironman!” (or woman, or whatever…). What a day to remember for the rest of my life. Where to even begin?
My alarm went off at 4:00am and I got up, did some stretching, and sat outside on the deck thinking good thoughts while eating my oatmeal. I was nervous, but mostly just anxious to FINALLY get this thing STARTED! Months of waiting, and now it was only a couple of hours away. I kissed Noah goodbye; he was still asleep and mumbled, “I love you”, and rolled back over. Repeated the procedure with Dan, and left to go wait for the shuttle bus on Ali’I Drive. The shuttle bus was GREAT, as Dan and Noah could sleep in and all the better because then Dan wouldn’t have to drag a four year old down to the transition/start area circus at 5:00am. It got me straight to the start where there was plenty to do and navigate in the next 2 hours. Bodymarking…again, surreal….everything about this race looks “just like it does on tv!” which is weird to say about anything you are about to take part in. Then to the bikes to pump tires, attach bento box and bottles, and do last minute checks. It was a SEA of bikes, as always, racked by number and I had a good spot near an end. Lots of volunteers (they said later it took 5,000 volunteers to staff this race of 1,700 athletes…excellent service!) and I flagged down the first one with a pump. This is where it gets crazy. This guy looked vaguely familiar and while he was pumping my tires I mentioned that he looked too fit not to be racing that day. He started telling me his story, how he was turning 50 that year…and he was doing 50 endurance events…and he was raising money but didn’t raise enough to do IM Hawaii….good grief, it was John Jayha! Whom I met at Dr. Elkind’s office when I was still on my crutches and who had told me about his 50 events in a year plan…I had been thinking about him and his crazy plan ever since. And here he was, in Kona, come all this way to pump my tires! What a wonderful freak encounter. It was definitely a pick me up. Then another volunteer came over and said, “Leo Montero wishes you good luck”. My friend Leo and his family had been one of the few of my tri friends who knew I was going to be there; he actually knew a couple of days before I did, as they listed the lottery winner names on tv after some triathlon race coverage two days before they let us know via email. Leo and I had been emailing back and forth throughout the six months, and he had been so wonderfully supportive; he was so excited for me. This volunteer turned out to be a good friend of Leo’s, and Leo had given him my race number so he could come find me. He took pictures on his camera-phone and instant messaged them to the information-starved Montero family back at home.
All too soon it was time to go down and get staged for the swim start. Talk about a completely surreal, out of body experience!! I saw Karen Smyers talking to a friend on the way in; she said she was on the bench due to a foot injury. She is amazing. We headed into the water to wait and the cannon went off at 6:45 for the pros, so the rest of the semi-mortals wouldn’t get in their way. I took my usual spot…waaaaaay back and to the left. And at 7:00 our cannon went off. It was a one loop swim course and it seemed like it was FOREVER to the turnaround. I hadn’t been especially worried about the swim, as my swim is almost as surely inevitable as death and taxes—1:45, give or take 10 minutes. But when I got to the turnaround and saw an hour had passed, I thought maybe I should have been a little more worried! And now most of those feet I was following were disappearing, so I knew I better get a move on. I was having a few issues I hadn’t given much thought to, realizing quickly that it had been a while since I’d swam in salt water. For starters, it felt like the salt was burning my sinuses and subsequently my brain (ouch). Secondly….itty bitty jellyfish at the turn around…enough said. Three…no wetsuit (water too warm for them to be legal). But mostly…my goggles were starting to leak (Seal Mask) and the salt water was really irritating. I had to take them off twice to clear them in the last mile. After the last couple of bouys, the lifeguards on surfboards started escorting me in, always demoralizing, but helpful in this instance, as I was just at the two hour mark and my eyes were becoming an increasing problem. As I exited the water and took my goggles off, I could FEEL my eye area….and human eyes should NEVER have a topography consistent with what I was feeling. There were no mirrors around, but I could almost see my own eyebrows! And from what I could feel, I knew I must resemble either a pug, or one of those fish with the bubble-eyes. As for my vision, I could only see out of the tiniest slits. As I hit the change tent, I ran up to the first medical guy at the door and asked him, “What is UP with my EYES?!?!?” He looked at me and yelled, “Medical!”. I sat down in one of the chairs as one volunteer started to get my socks and cycling shoes on, a nice woman doctor came over, said, “oh, wow, you’ve had some kind of reaction to the salt water!”, took a picture for Ironman Medical posterity, and gave me some sort of steroid drops in my eyes. Despite all the rushing, my first transition took just under ten minutes. I could still hardly see, but the doctor assured me it would get better, and it did a couple of hours into the ride. I had to laugh a little to myself, as Mary, my Pilates P.T. had given me a little metal Milagro good luck charm in the shape of an eye which I had pinned to my race suit—good thing I brought a spare!
The bike leg was somewhat uneventful, which is exactly what I was hoping for. The pavement was pristine, almost like glass. And all that hot weather training, giving Dan the first “ride-shift” of the day all ple of spots could I feel the baking oven thing, but never long enough for it to really worry about. My tried and true eating plan worked wonderfully. Taking into account that I just can’t process the volume I could 8 or 10 years ago, I used the Clif kid-bars and Clif Nectar bars on the hour and gu's on the half hour, switching off water and cytomax. At about mile 35 I was the Timex car with the big clock/stopwatch on top and heard the media helicopters which meant the race leaders were on their way back from the turnaround (don’t do the math, it will only depress you). I couldn’t tell who the men’s leader was but that did not diminish the utterly sheer COOLNESS of the entire situation. Not long after that, Chrissie Wellington came flying by, clearly dominating the women’s field. Just amazing. Very much like when Dan and I went to the Tour De France it is such a different perspective on the people and an event you kind of thought you had a grasp of. The people who excel at these events are freaks, pure and simple.
The wind started picking up about 5 miles from the turnaround at Hawi and 
was pretty intense for a stretch, but thankfully turned into a tailwind on the way back. The wind wasn’t too big a problem until about the last 20 miles, as it was getting later in the afternoon and it was definitely picking up. I was so pleased when I could do the math at that point and know I was going to have roughly an hour cushion on the run (can I call it that?), after months of worrying about the cutoff time. And no flats or mechanicals—hallelujah!
On to the “run” by 4:30. I started doing my finely-honed 15 minute 
mile clip and was right on it, even gaining a little time by mile four. So I commenced with my plan, just as I had done in training—starting with 12 minute walk/3 minute jog for an hour, an hour of 11 minute walk/4 minute jog, and then to 10 minute walk/5 minute jog. Running felt good and at least broke up the monotony, but training had taught me anything over 5 minutes at a time was going to be not so good at that distance, so I put a tight leash on myself. About mile 5 I saw Dan and Noah on Ali’I Drive and Noah was SO excited. He came running up with his new little camera Dan bought him for the trip, and which he has been obsessed with. 
On the way back from the first turnaround, he was even more excited, and ran a little ways with me; he thought everyone was cheering for him. Not every kid can go to show and tell next week and say they ran in the Hawaii Ironman. I stopped just long enough for someone to take our picture (worth it). Off Dan and Noah went to entertain themselves at the pool for the next four to five hours, while I went for my little walk. Next up was “Pay and Save” Hill along Palani Road and off for the long march in freakish darkness to the Natural Energy Lab. There were aid stations every mile, many with music. I employed my 
tried and true cola-soup-solids-gel switchoff. There was a very cool Hawaiin guy doing this fire torch thing at the energy lab in the dark. And I must say, I was more than happy to be doing the run leg in the dark, rather than baking sun. At mile 24 you could HEAR the finish line, the crowd and the announcer and KNEW you were almost home. I could NOT stop smiling most of the day, but especially then. Like at every Ironman I’ve 
ever done, the later you go, the more drunk spectators there are, which is always very comical to me. Coming down Ali’I Drive was just as magical as everyone says. There was a very bright light over the finish chute and I headed for it, picking up my run a few hundred yards from the line. I still cannot believe it, but in an UNFORGETTABLE show of clumsiness, I caught my foot on the finish line mat, and went FLYING, spread-eagle, onto my face, just at the finish line! Who DOES that?!?!? I picked myself up just in time for Chrissie Wellington to place a flower lei over my head and give me a kiss on the cheek! A seriously unforgettable moment. I later learned she had shattered Paula-Newby Fraser’s course record. Chrissie….under 9 hours…me….15 hours 41 minutes and change. They had a great system set up of family-passes at the finish line so Dan and Noah found me minutes later, and escorted me (along with the requisite 2 medical people) to the medal podium/photographers. Noah even got to put my medal over my head. Due to my walking-status, I was even able to walk back to the car of my own accord !
I still can’t believe I’ve lived a dream….I am ready for some serious fun. The only lingering question I have from my week as a rock star is: What is UP with this compression sock craze?????
Being my first true fore into ultra distance cycling, I was a bit nervous about what to expect and how my body would react. I based my training preparation loosely on ultra run training and on last year’s Death Ride with 3 week building blocks and one week of rest/testing beginning in late December. As a final preparation, I rode solo from Arnold to home (~150 miles) two weeks before the event and then tapered the final two weeks.
Post Ride Ride from Bulleton to Solvang
