Message posted by: Stacey U.

Thank you everyone who calmed my nerves and boosted my spirits in the days leading up to yesterday’s race. You all were definitely on my mind- remembering your encouraging words, and desperately trying “not to suck”. For most of the day I didn’t suck….(although “suckiness” is relative when you are competing with world class athletes…) I am managing an “Ironman shuffle” today, and might manage a walk to the end of my driveway sometime today…ouch!

The day before the race was Friday the 13th, unlucky in every sense of the word. Scott’s truck (brand new) broke down in downtown Tampa on the way to drop my bike and gear off in Clearwater. And I don’t mean the battery died- I mean the whole thing died, couldn’t even get it into neutral to move it off the road. So we sat in the middle of rt 60, downtown Tampa, during lunch hour- with my bike in the back, praying that no one would rear-end us. Finally got towed to the dealership and got a rental, getting me over to Clearwater with just a few hours to spare before the cut-off for check-in. My nerves were shot. Once we arrive, volunteers are passing out flyers telling us that because of the rough water conditions the swim has moved from the beach to the harbor. (It actually worked in my favor….but added to the general stress of the day.) Finally, to top it all off, yup, my body decides that Friday night, HOURS before my race, is the perfect time to start my “cycle” (s
orry guys…but it played a big factor in my day.)

Somehow manage to get a solid 7 1/2 hours of sleep and woke up, well-rested, ready to start the day. We hit the road at 4:30 for our 3rd trek in 3 days out to Clearwater (Out-of-towners, don’t let the airports fool you- Tampa is NOT St. Pete which is NOT Clearwater). Even as a local, I would stay over in Clearwater if I were to do this again. ) Takes a solid 45 minutes to get to Clearwater at 4:30 in the morning. Even though my gear and bike were already over there, I wanted to be early to settle in and calm my nerves. I expected shuttle bus traffic and frazzled athletes waiting in long lines to get bodymarked. But when I arrive, there were no lines for anything (except the portapotties). I got bodymarked (rubber stamps!…oooohh) checked my tires, filled my bottles, and waited in the line for the potty. Then it was time to head down the road to the new swim start in the harbor.

Because of the change in the swim venue, the race changed from a wave start to a time trial start, like they do for IM Louisville. I was looking forward to this, rather than worrying about being knocked about by the other 80 or so athletes in my wave. I expected a mess (remembering the St. Anthony’s time trial fiasco) but the line was set up by wave and moved quickly. Scott took a few pictures, and gave me a quick kiss and I headed into the chute for the start. The I hear “Stacey!” and look over to see Suzanne C. I run over to give her a big (one-armed) hug, and then it was time to swim.

The water was supposed to be 69 degrees which I worried would be shockingly cold to me, who swims in 82 degree water at the Y. But with my wetsuit, which I had only worn once this year- in April- the water felt really good. 1-2-3 and I jumped in, feet first (no diving allowed) and started swimming. I felt really confident at the start- it was great not being knocked around by others and having my own space to breathe. then…I was attacked by sharks….and by sharks, I mean the competitive age groupers in the men’s wave behind me who would rather kill me than go around me, and I was swallowed up out there. I was punched in the face, under my right eye hard enough that I knew immediately “That’s going to leave a mark” and was swam over but managed to get over to the side when there was some air…..until the next wave came along.

The biggest problem with the swim course was the sun. We were swimming directly east into the sun, and even with tinted goggles, the glare was blinding. All I could see was triangular shadows and shadows of swimming in front of me. The shape of the course was odd, buoys straight out from the dock, then a jog to the right, followed by a sharp turn to the left. A group of swimmers and myself were heading to what we thought was the next buoy, when we all ran almost headfirst into a kayaker yelling “You’re off course!” “Where’s the buoy?” we yell, and he points off to the east. I couldn’t see a damn thing. We took our goggles off so we could actually see the buoy to the right of us, put the goggles back on, launching me back into a world of shadows, and head off. Once I made it around the turn buoy, and was heading north and then west, I felt much better and tried to settle in for a good swim. My goal time for the swim was 40 minutes. I was on pace to beat that time, but
when I made the turn to head in, the buoys just kept coming. I’d swim to one, thinking it was the last, only to find 2 more behind it. (Not being allowed to swim the buoys before the race was definitely a problem for me.).

I did actually finish the swim in about 40 minutes, but then….here come the sharks again. I arrived at the dock ramp with about 30 males (no girls in sight). The volunteers were yelling that we needed to go up the ramp to the dock in pairs. Would you believe that I was shoved away from the ramp twice, and once actually picked up and THROWN out of the way? (I am SO out of my league here!) I finally latched on to one’s guys arm and refused to let go, so I finally got up the ramp to the dock and headed for T1. I felt like I had just finished a round of boxing! I finished in 42-43 minutes. Not bad….Close to my goal time, and I’m alive despite swimming with sharks!

Everything was very quiet in T1 (as the rest of my day would be). The volunteer sorted thru my bag while I put on my helmet and shoes and I was done pretty quickly. The long run around the border of the transition area added to the time, but it was a good smooth transition. I was in control and ready for the bike.

My goal for the bike was 3:15. I thought MAYBE I could do it in 3 hours if I was feeling good, but I was worried about the bridges, and about the strength of my back and legs. I headed out and hit the first bridge (with a 12% grade) right away…helluva way to start!) I managed my way up it, had fun flying down it, and hit the first 5 mile marker at 15 minutes. That became my goal- riding from marker to marker in 15 minute intervals. It was a lonely ride, I was by myself for most all of it, with a few riders coming up from behind me, giving me a “Go Stacey!” and speeding off. That’s OK, I told myself. I going to run my race today. And I was proud that I stuck to my 20mph average until the 30 mile mark, when I slipped off by a half-minute, but caught it right back again. My friend, Shawn from Challenged Athletes Foundations (Operation Rebound) cheered for me as I went by early on. I passed Sister Madonna Buder around mile 30, (ummmm….I’m really hoping she started i
n a much earlier wave than me??) and wanted to call out that she was my hero, but I got tongue-tied, and ended up just staring at her as I went by. I hope she understands why I was gawking. I just love her.

I held on to my 20 mph average until the 50 mile marker, and I thought to myself, “Oh my gosh, I’m going to come in at 2:48- a half hour under my projected finish! Will Scott even be at T2?” Then I thought, if I go just a little faster, I can get in at 2:45- which would be incredible for me. Unfortunately I miscalculated how far the last 6 miles would be, thinking I only had 1-2 miles left when I actually had 4. I started thinking, “Hmm, I thought I had to go over the Memorial bridge again to get back. I must be wrong.” (Since going over the bridge is the only way back, this confusion was a clue of what was about to happen….) I speed up, expecting to see transition when I round the corner, but no, there’s the %^&%^& bridge!. I climb the bridge, fly down it, when all of a sudden….lights out! BONK! I pass the 55 mile mark (1 mile to go) and I have this weird weightlessness in my legs- I’m spinning and they wont go anywhere. My thoughts wander (“Maybe I should jus
t get off the bike and walk…oh look, a shady tree to sit under…”) and I panic (“Oh my gosh- how am I going to finish the last mile!?!?) I felt like I was suspended in time- I was never going to get there. Scary. I gobbled a gel that I didnt want and drank the rest of my gatorade, and I got my senses back before I rode thru the barrier chutes for T2. I finished the bike leg in 2:52- I was VERY happy with that, despite the last mile.

I handed off my bike, and ran to my bags for T2. As soon as I started running, I knew something was wrong. My legs felt like cement- I hadnt had that feeling in years, and had done all of my brick training, so what was this? My friend Steve, working security, saw me and snapped a few pictures- I must have looked completely spent. When I picked up my bag, I actually walked from there into the change tent- I knew I was in trouble, and it occurred to me that maybe….just maybe….coming in a half hour under my projected time wasnt the best idea. Also, with the run looming, my cramps decided to kick in full force, to the point that I felt nauseous. I asked for tylenol/ motrin in the tent, but they had nothing for me. I actually made a quick transition, despite the walking, but doubled my transition time by fussing with my wet tri-suit when I decided I’d better stop and use the potty before I even attempted to run. I headed out for the run. I felt like crap.

My plan was to run to the bridge, walk up the bridge, and then run 10 minutes/ walk 1 minute if I still felt bad. I didnt even make it to the bridge. I had a softball size cramp in my right calf. I tried stretching it out, massaging it, taking in gatorade, but nothing worked. It was excruciating, and never went away for the entire run. I knew I needed to run 11:30 miles to make my goal time of 2:30, but I was barely scraping my for the first few miles, and then the bottom completely fell out. The combination of leg cramps and stomach cramps kept me bargaining from aide station to aid station (Would I get gatorade or stop and fight my way out of my trisuit to use the potty?) I did feel almost OK during miles 4-6, but for the rest of the race I was just miserable. It was a very lonely run and I was sure I was the last runner when an NBC camera motorcycle rolled up next to me, but no, thank goodness, they were filming one of the Inspiration stories- the man right behind m
e had lost 250 pounds during the last 3 years and was competing today. Good for him. And good for me….at least I knew I wasnt last- he and Sister Buder were still behind me

I saw my friends Kelly and Troy at the Pirate run aid station (twice), and while they cheered me up, I was still close to breaking down in tears. I did break down, on my final lap, when a police officer blocking traffic was talking very loudly to another guy (on purpose?) as I went by. “These people are out here WALKING!! Maybe they shouldve signed up for a shorter race. It’s pathetic.” A million cuss words went through my head but I kept running, embarrassed, or trying to run, while I was breathing in tears. I must have stretched my calf muscle 15 times during the run, and it only seemed to get worse, and the knot seemed to get bigger and harder.

I passed the Inspiration Station sign and saw Scott’s message to me, and saw the Mad Dogs poster with my name on it (and made a mental note to volunter next season, since I couldnt this season) . At the bottom of the bridge, a volunteer ran up to me and asked if he could run with me. I told him that I was walking to the top of the bridge but he could run down the other side if he wanted to, He said ok, and distracted me by talking about beer and what a great time he had volunteering today. He got me to the bottom of the bridge- the last 1/2 mile or so, and sent me on my way to the finish.

My friend Steve met me at the barriers and began running along the outside of the barriers with me encouraging me to “kick it into gear”, but I didnt have gears left. I think I jogged it in, but I managed to cross the line with a smile on my face and hear my name called out. My friend Alyssa who just started working for Ironman ran over and gave me my medal, took my picture, gave me some water. Scott congratulated me with a kiss and hug, and Steve began discussing how sucky my run was. No sense in whining or complaining about illness, injury, or cramps when you are up against the woulda/coulda/shouldas. There’ll be time for that tomorrow.

I finished the run in 2:45, although my finish time of 6:27 was still 6-7 minutes faster than any of my other 70.3 times- a PR!!Finishing this race (despite all of the suckiness) validated my decision to do this race after my back surgery, my need for off-season strength training for my back, as well as for some time off to rest and fully recover.

And yes Steve, I will come out and run with you and your running club, so you can help me improve my sucky running……but not today.

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