I first want to start off by saying thanks to everyone who left nice comments out there for me. I was in the dumps something fierce and while I am still not out of them completely, I am loopy enough on cough medicine to pretend that I see a light at the end of the tunnel and if I just keep going, I’ll get there. Again, thanks everybody. Your support means a lot!
Well…first the bad news then the good.
First off, I am still sick. It’s been two weeks now and everyday I wake up and feel completely great. Then I get out of bed and the sickness hits me.
I can’t wait until I am better. This cold has been so subtle that it doesn’t feel that it’s really there but then the coughs start and I am reminded that I’m still a sicky.
I went out for the race. I felt good for the swim. I was actually able to latch on a guys feet and have him pull me the first 800 yards and we flew past everybody, then the coughing attacks started and I lost him and then I lost the rest of the people. Then I came out of the water, back of the pack. But still it was actually a pretty good time all things considered.
The bike started off good too. I was able to concentrate on getting in the right amount of nutrition, drink a lot of water. Everything was going good. I even passed a pointy helmet in an Ironman kit no less!
However, Come turn around, I was feeling the heat. There were only two aid stations and this one had run out of Gatorade and was serving boiling hot water and GU’s.
I was able to hold it together for a while, but I knew that I was toast. The run seemed forever away and just didn’t have the energy to go on.
The opportunity was there and I took it. At mile 44, I ended my race! My first DNF.
I kept waiting for this overwhelming guilt to come crashing down on me. For something to break and for me to ‘realize’ what I've done. It never happened. I am not saying I am proud that it happened the way it did, but neither am I depressed by it. I think that I gave up too early. In hindsight, I think I should have finished that ride. But I knew there was no way I was going to finish the run so I was OK with ending the ride early.
Later on I heard that the run was a total death march for a lot of people. The temp was 103 and unfortunately, it seems that they ran out of water on some of the aid stations. I understand it was horrible. A lot of people have left a lot of hate mail for this race. Mountain Man Events is quickly earning a bad reputation.
Now the good news:
When I resigned, I was afraid that this meant I was done. Done for the year? Done for the season? Done with the sport? I don’t know. I just had this feeling that I was done.
But, as soon as I got home, I kept thinking of what I could do to get better. It just seems that this distance is a major butt kicker. It’s my second attempt (one race; one self supported) and each time, I am dead.
I REALLY need to work on my bike. I mean REALLY need to work on it. I am thinking of riding the course every weekend. I have got to get my body used to that distance so that it doesn’t even blink come race day.
If I’m going to commit to the distance, I am going to need to shut down some of the other workouts.
It’s about time to start focusing on the run. It seems that lately I loathe the run. I do every thing I can to avoid the run. That must mean that I need to do nothing but!
So for now on, it’s run twice a week (tempo; speedwork; hill repeats, etc) and a long distance run on the weekend.
I am sorta abandoning the swim, but it’ll just have to wait.
My hope is that I can build up enough strength that the 70.3 will be beat able. Maybe it’s the sickness. Maybe I was overtrained. Maybe I needed some rest. Whatever it was, I hope that when this sickness finally wears off, I’ll be ready.
Silverman…I’m gunning for ya!