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Monday, March 4, 2013
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Finishing my first 140.6 triathlon
Rev3 Cedar Point Full Race Report, September 2012
Pre-Race
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| Marty & Yvonne |
Dave and I made the drive to Sandusky Friday afternoon and got checked into Hotel Breakers, a historic hotel at Cedar Point that was only about a half mile from the swim start. We headed to the expo and I got checked in, even had to get weighed which is something they required all of the 140.6 mile athletes to do. I am guessing that they used this in the event that you needed medical attention and they could determine how many IV bags you would need if you were dehydrated. It was a beautiful, sunny day in the mid-70's and I was soaking up all of the pre-race anticipation of my fellow triathletes.
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| Corky, my Ironman mentor |
My race wrist band got snapped on and would not be taken off until 2 weeks after I crossed the finish line. We met up with Corky and Yvonne from Steel Valley Triathlon Club (SVTC) who were doing the half and later all went to dinner at Famous Dave's where I had some really excellent ribs. I have been fortunate to get to know Corky and Yvonne over the past two years through group rides and runs with SVTC. They are two of the most positive and encouraging people that I know and I appreciate all of the support they have given to me during my training for this event. Corky is a very experienced triathlete, having done more than 13 Ironmans including Kona. She shared a lot of her experience with me during my training, but most of all believed that I could do this. That meant the world to me, because I wasn't so sure of that at times.
Saturday morning brought thunderstorms and rain, which lead to the Sprint Triathlon being cancelled. We had planned on doing a practice swim, but that too was cancelled due to strong rip currents. We walked beside the swim course and I started getting nervous about what Lake Erie would look like for race day. I remembered doing the Greater Cleveland Triathlon olympic distance race earlier in the summer in very challenging conditions and told myself I could survive it. By afternoon, the weather had improved and we went back to the expo to buy some souvenirs and checked my bike and transition bags into the transition area.
Race Morning, September 9, 2012
I woke at 4AM as planned without the need of the two alarms
that had been carefully set. Finally the day I had been training for was here!
I set off with grim seriousness in following the script I had prepared and
tried not to dwell on the self-doubts that were growing louder by the second.
Brush your teeth, wash your face, put tri shorts and top on, don’t forget heart
rate monitor, put body glide everywhere…quit thinking about how insane this is
and wishing you could sleep in and go out to breakfast. I sat down for breakfast at 4:30AM and had a
bagel with almond butter, banana and oatmeal as if I were having my last meal
on death row. I drank a cup of coffee
and a bottle of water, grabbed my
special needs bags and swim gear and announced to Dave, “it’s time to go.” Dave
appeared frightened to be in the room with me and had occupied himself with
quietly texting someone most of the morning. In the back of the mind, I thought
this was odd, why would anyone but a racer get up this early, but it wasn’t on
my script, so it quickly left my mind.
We drove to the bike transition area about 2 miles from the
hotel, where I turned in my special needs bags, pumped air in my bike tires and
filled up my bike bottles with Gatorade and water. I had planned 30 minutes for
these activities on “the script”, I was done in about 10. I checked to make
sure my bike and run bags had made it onto the transition area pegs and
panicked when I only found one bag. My bike gear bag was missing! What am I
going to do? It took me a minute to
realize that this bag was on the row above my run bag. Crisis averted. It was 5AM and there were very few people in
the transition area. Maybe I missed the memo on don’t come as soon as the
transition area opens because it will be dark and it will give you more time to
freak out. I now didn’t know what to do with myself as the start was 2 hours
away. So Dave and I walked up the beach about a half mile in the dark to the
swim start. Unlike yesterday when the practice swim had been cancelled, Lake Erie was like glass, no white caps or rip
currents or buoys drifting off to Huron. I was going to be okay.
We decided to go back to Hotel Breakers as it was so close
to the swim start and find a place to sit and relax for a while. We settled
into some rocking chairs outside the hotel and I put my headphones on to listen
to some music to try to calm down. I had downloaded the Indigo Girls first
album onto my iphone the day before and found the songs on this had a calming
effect on me. I kept listening to the song “Closer to Fine” over and over
again. There were many lines in this song that helped me to focus, one of which
was “ I wrap my fear around me like a blanket, I sailed my ship of safety till
I sank it, I’m crawling on your shore.” I would think about this line many
times during the swim. Since I wasn't going to be able to listen to music for the next 17 hours, at least I would have
something good stuck in my head.
A few chairs down from us a man was sitting smoking a
cigarette, he looked a little bit like he was drunk from the night before. I
was guessing he wasn't here for the Ironman. He proceeded to strike up a
conversation with Dave with little encouragement. In full Kentucky southern
drawl, he announced that he had “brought his boy to Cedar Point to ride some
roller coasters,” and they had a great day yesterday, proclaiming that Cedar
Point was better than Disney World. I was trying not to listen to him over
my music, but his accent, enthusiasm and demeanor were hard to ignore. He then
asked Dave what we were doing and as Dave explained the event and the
distances, he said, “and she’s gonna do that in ONE day?” He then understood
why he had been seeing bikes everywhere around the park. My sister, Lori then
appeared. I had warned her at dinner the night before that I would be a neurotic
mess before the start and to not get hurt feelings about anything I might do or
say today. I saw she was wearing a shirt that said “Team Kim Ruble 140.6” and
said,” nice shirt”, hoping she would not want to have a long conversation so I
could go back to being terrified of what I was about to do. I couldn't really
hear anything over the music at this point, although I have been told that
there was some dialogue here that I missed about someone saying, “thanks I made
them.” I looked up and saw another person with the same shirt on and then
realized it was my youngest sister, Leigh Anne who lived in New Jersey. We
don’t get to see each other very often and I was dumb-founded that she had
somehow got herself here at this ungodly hour. I then said “ oh my god” over and over as if I were 12 and Justin Bieber had just appeared before me. I had
never been so surprised in my life. And then I saw Marylee, Leigh Anne’s mother
and my former step-mother standing next to my Mom. This was a lot for my
brain to take in at 6AM in the morning. These were 4 people that I was not used
to seeing in the same location, like ever, not even funerals or weddings. I think the last time my Mom even saw Leigh
Anne she was in diapers. She is now in her early 30's with a young daughter of her own. Leigh Anne was the last person I had texted the night
before, where she had told me she wished that she could have been here and
“could feel it in her bones” that I was going to finish. Leigh Anne had been a
big support to me when I ran the Disney Marathon a few years ago. This was a
race that I had no intention of finishing due to a knee injury and lack of
adequate training. I finished only to impress my baby sister and was touched by
her enthusiasm throughout the run.
Then everyone started hugging each other, and I kept saying
“oh my god.” Leigh Anne and Marylee had flown into Cleveland the night before,
drove to Sandusky at like 1AM and were sharing a hotel room with Lori and Mom.
When is this ever going to happen again? I was really moved that they were here
and that these people from what feels like separate parts of my life were
joining together to support me in this endeavor. I was equally impressed that Dave and Lori,
had conspired to keep this a secret from me (which now explained all of the early
morning texting.) The man from Kentucky was quite entertained by the family
reunion and hung around like he was part of our family. I might have hugged him
too, I can’t remember. All of this
helped me to get out of my head for a while, which was helpful as my head
wasn’t really a fun place to be prior to this. After a few family photos, it
was close to 6:30AM and I decided it was time to walk down to the swim start
and see what the water felt like. I did a very short warm up swim, got rid of
all the water and Gatorade I had been drinking all morning and was pleased with
the calmness and temperature of the water.
The Swim, 1:59
After the pro male and female starts, it was time for all of
the full distance triathletes to assemble in the water. This would be a mass start, all 400 of us, AT
THE SAME TIME. I had been dreading this for a while, as I had never
participated in a mass start before and was used to starting in much smaller
waves of people and typically in one of the last waves. For some reason, it is
tradition that ironmans have mass starts, I guess so everyone has same starting
time. It is very dramatic to see that many people in the water all at once. Open water swims are always a little crazy,
with elbows and feet going in all directions. I’ve read all the horror stories
of people getting their goggles kicked off their face and ribs elbowed. I usually tried to stay clear of the entire
melee and swim with a cushion of calm water around me, but didn’t think I would
be able to do this under these conditions.
I lined up in the back of the pack and felt like I was surrounded by
Navy Seals. What was I doing here? These people looked tough and very fit.
These people actually looked good in their wetsuits. I on the other hand, don’t
look like I can comfortably run a 5K and was hoping that any wetsuit photos
captured of me could be quickly destroyed. I started regretting all of the swim
training I had missed while on vacation in Switzerland a couple weeks ago and
those days I didn’t get up early to go swim at the YMCA as planned. Finally the starting horn sounded. The water
was very shallow for about 200 yards, most of us just walked, although some of
the more ambitious ones dolphined dived until they got into water that was deep
enough to swim in. Some remarked at how ridiculous it was for the water to be
this shallow. I on the other hand was thrilled. Hey, I’m keeping up with the group;
I’d be content to water walk the whole 2.4 fricking miles. This soon changed
and we were able to swim. As usual, I watched the pack fade from my view and I
found myself with my usual crowd, the ones who were holding onto the kayakers
and buoys for dear life. I have never had to do this myself in a race of any
distance, but swim at the same speed as the ones that do. There were not nearly
as many of these types as a typical sprint or Olympic race however, but there
were a few. As I swam slowly past them, I thought, wow you are going to have a
long day, good luck.
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| You can just barely see us swimming on the horizon in this photo. |
My plan for the day was to swim to each red buoy in 20
minutes or less, which would give me a 2 hour swim time and put me 20 minutes
under the cut off time for the swim, which was 2:20. The course was a triangle
with 3 red buoys at the points and yellow buoys in between that were used for
sighting to keep you on course. Each red buoys was alleged to be .4 of a mile.
I had done the math, I could do this! I got to the first red buoy in 17:30,
success! I reached the second red one in 36 minutes. I am starting to feel more
confident. I am swimming a very relaxed pace. I never got winded the entire
swim, although I would stop occasionally to just look around, rest my arms and
notice how beautiful the sky was. At this point the pros had lapped me and I
briefly stopped to watch how effortless their motion was through the water. The second red buoy was tricky as the first
time around the triangle you make a sharp right turn and the second you follow
another line of buoys to the finish. I spotted a yellow buoy and started off in
this direction, when I had almost arrived at this buoy I realized, I am headed
for finish and not second lap. I had to cut back and just barely made the third
buoy in the planned 60 minute time. At
this point the water was shallow again, and I could walk for a bit, yeah! I
could hear my family cheering for me from the beach, which brought a smile to
my face. And there were 2 swimmers right in front of me also on their second
loop. It was nice to have some company. Hopefully these two could swim straight
and I wouldn't have to sight so much, because I suck at it. I was feeling much
more relaxed and only focused on being a swimmer. I wouldn't let myself think
about what the rest of the day had in store for me. Just finish the swim! I found the expression “relax and glide”
helpful during this time, as well as counting to 40 strokes before taking a
short break. My sighting and depth perception continue to be horrible and I am
sure I swam much more than the 2.4 mile course. Doing more than 3 open water
swims this summer might have been a good idea!
Getting to the second red buoy
on lap two, I heard the horn sound for the Half distance race. I was now going
to be swam over by 1000 plus people. My form started to fall apart, my calf
muscles started to cramp. I kept waiting for them to catch up to me and the
nightmare would begin. I couldn't swim straight to save my life. Well, some of
them did catch up to me, but it wasn't so bad. A few tapped my feet with their
hands and politely swam around me. No elbows, no goggles being kicked off my
face, no sensation of neoprene bodies sliding over my back. The swimming in
this race was much calmer than in sprint and Olympic races I have done and
everyone spread out a lot. As soon as I was able to touch bottom, I took off my
goggles and walked to shore. There was a large crowd on the beach and I could
hear my family cheering, although could not see them in the crowd. I tried to
run a few steps and ended up shuffling through the sand up to the transition
tents. I glanced at my watch, 1:59. 21
minute cushion under the cut off time. I was thrilled that the swim was over. I
would remain thrilled that the swim was over for the next 5 hours.
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| My support team, happy I finished swim so they can go to breakfast. |
T1, 7:11
In the transition tent, a volunteer helped me to get my wet suit off as I dumped the contents of my bike gear bag on the floor. I put on my bike jersey, socks, shoes, gloves, sunglasses and helmet. I shoved gel flasks and cliff bars into my back jersey pockets; made sure I used a ridiculous amount of chamois butter and sprayed on some sunscreen. I also squirted a few shots of Flonase up my nose, hoping that my lake swim allergies could hold off for the next 15 hours before the sneezing and congestion took over my respiratory system. Usually, I have about a 4 hour window before this happens, I didn't want to be blowing my nose for the rest of the day. I had brought a lot in my gear bag that I didn't need, but had put it in there just in case (jacket, arm warmers).It was still cool out, in the low 60’s, but I didn't feel cold at all, despite sitting there in wet clothes. The volunteer patiently packed up the things I didn't want and said she would take care of all of my swim gear. I headed out of TI in a time of 7:11. Not bad, I had given myself 10 minutes for each transition. There were a couple of people still in the transition tent when I left. I was stunned. I was ahead of some people, wow. They didn't look like ironman athletes either.
The Bike, 6:59
I was all smiles now, as biking is my favorite discipline in
triathlon and the only one that I show any signs of aptitude in. I saw Lori,
Leigh Anne, Mom, Dave and Marylee all photographing me like I was some kind of
celebrity. I was now having fun. This ironman stuff is easy! I clipped in and
took off, trying to remember to back off the speed and keep my heart rate in
zone 2 (under 140 beats per minute). I noticed my neck was stinging from the
sweat and knew I had chaffing on my neck from my wet suit, despite applying a
generous amount of body glide on my neck before the start. My chin strap felt
too tight and felt like it was choking me, I couldn't loosen it. I had put on a
skull cap under my helmet to keep sweat out of my eyes and realized that this
had changed how my helmet had fit and wished I had not put it on. Maybe I’ll
take it off later, and pushed it out of my mind. I had decided previously to
divide the 112 mile bike course into 30 mile segments mentally. I had biked
over 2000 miles outside this year, including one very hot and hilly century in
the Akron area called the “ABC”, Absolutely Beautiful Country ride in July with
the Akron Bicycle Club. It was the first century I had done in 14 years and it
kicked my ass. And Dave and I had ridden 300 miles across Switzerland in
August. “This would be a piece of cake” I thought to myself. 30 miles was an easy training ride for me
now. The hard part was not going as fast as I wanted to go out of fear of
torching myself for the marathon. I had hoped to average 15 mph with breaks, so
needed to hit the 30 mile marker in 2 hours. Soon there were bikers passing me
at a blinding rate. They all had “H’s written on their right calves signifying
that they were doing the Half ironman distance. I could hear them coming like
freight trains with their aero wheels and watched them speed past me like I was
standing still. It was demoralizing. It was really hard not to chase them and
keep my steady pace. Quite a few members of Steel Valley Triathlon Club (SVTC)
passed me in matching SVTC bike/tri jerseys and shouted words of encouragement.
I started to get worried, as I had not seen many calves marked with an “F” for
Full Distance. Was I going the right way? Had I missed a turn? Am I going to
have to turn around?
At mile 30, the half and full distance courses diverged and
I finally saw a few full riders ahead of me and started reeling them in one by
one. Although I try to tell myself I am
not competitive in these events, (because I am so much slower than the majority
of the field), it is always fun to pass someone. I would count them, one by
one, like I was stacking chips in a poker game. Over the next 82 miles, I would
pass over 20 riders and lost count of how many after a while. I was being
mindful of eating something every 30 minutes and taking salt tablets every
hour. During this leg I had 14 powerbar
gels, 2 cliff mojo bars, 1 zone bar, and 2 stinger waffles (excellent product
by the way, I bought a couple at expo, they have 160 calories, taste good and
are easy to eat on bike) and a small container of pringles. I drank water with
the gels and salt tablets and drank a bottle of Gatorade every hour. I was
trying to get most of my calories in on the bike, as I don’t like to eat much
when I run and prefer to drink water then. I got to mile 50 where they had our bike
special needs bags ready. I shouted out my number,” 429” and a volunteer
quickly grabbed by bag and handed it to me. I had tubes, co2 canisters and some
food in the bag. Luckily, I had not had a flat and had enough supplies on my
bike for a couple flat changes. I even carried a spare tire, just in case, that
I had duct taped to one of my seat bottle cages. Things went really smoothly
until about mile 60 and then it started… At first it was just a mild ache going
down the right side of my back. I had felt it before in long training rides,
but had always been able to shake it off. I started sitting up more from the
aero position to give my lower back a break. And then my Garmin went hay wire
and started beeping incessantly. I looked at it and it said “data full”. I didn't want to stop to reset it and was tired of the beeping, so just shut it
off. I had kept my heart rate under 140 the whole day and figured I didn't need
it. But not knowing what time it was caused me some concern. Note to self:
reset your Garmin data before your next ironman! I had not reset it since ourBike Switzerland trip, it was full of lots of bike ride data. I had a bike
computer that gave me my elapsed ride time, average speed, distance and cadence.
I would just use this to keep on track.
My first bathroom break was mile 70. That should be an award in itself, swim 2 hours, bike 70 miles and only pee once! The volunteers on the race were amazing. As soon as I stopped a young boy held my bike, asked me what fluids I wanted in my bottles and had them filled up by the time I was done. My back was sore and tense, but I figured, hey only 42 more miles to go, you will be fine. My family had driven out on the bike course and would occasionally drive by me with cow bells blazing or be standing at side of road cheering “ Go Kimmy!” It was a real shot in the arm every time I saw them. I tried to smile and have good form as I rode past them, but by mile 84 I shouted to them, “It’s starting to hurt.” My legs, lung and mind wanted to keep pedaling, but my back just wanted to lay down on a soft bed for the rest of the day.
I thought about Rev 3
last year, when Dave and I had volunteered on the bike sweep. We got to drive
the Rev3 SUV and were treated like the race directors all day by the riders,
volunteers and police officers on the course. Riders would thank us for putting
on such a great race and we would just smile and wave. We followed the last
riders on the race for 112 miles. I had a broken leg at the time and was on
crutches. I was so inspired by watching all of the riders that day and was sad
that I could not be out there with them. I cried more than a few times that
day. We got to know 2 of them, who
turned out to be married to one another, Benjamin and Rachael. Benjamin was a
very large guy, over 300 pounds. I was amazed he had finished the swim and 70
miles on the bike before asking us for a ride to an aid station. He had also
survived a freak hail storm before throwing in the towel. He was worried about his wife, whom we had not
seen yet. He was very emotional that he could not continue. He had been getting
cramps and just could not keep going. I admired him for even being out there. I
kept thinking, I’m going to end up in the Rev3 mobile. 3 miles from the finish, Rachael got a flat
tire and only had about 15 minutes to make the bike cut off. I told Dave to get
out of the car and help her. Rachel was calm, cool and collected and changed
her tire like a Tour de France mechanic. She never freaked out. I, on the other
hand, was freaking out in the car for her. This poor girl has ridden 108 miles
and now gets a flat? She made the bike cut off, but would later learn that she
could not continue after 13 miles into the run.
I thought about Rachael a lot on the bike course and told myself if I
get a bike mechanical, I need to be like her. I would force myself to ride in the aero bars
for 10 minutes and then give myself a 1 minute break sitting up as straight as
I could, even putting my hands on top of my aero bar pads for some relief. It
helped and I was able to keep going.
The bike course was primarily pancake flat, with a few rollers
thrown in and one short steep climb that we had to do twice due to the bike
course looping from about mile 50 to 90. Not one who enjoys climbs; I surprised
myself in looking forward to them because I got to change position on the bike.
My back loved going uphill, and screamed out, “more hills!” I even passed some
people on the steep hill, which is something that never happens to me on
climbs. I saw a guy drop a chain mid-way up it and shuddered, recalling how I
had broken my leg the year before when my chain locked up on a steep climb
during Eddy’s Sweet Corn Challenge and slammed me to the ground at mile 47. The only real challenges on this course other
than the distance were the headwind and road conditions. I had a lot of
practice with headwind on my training rides and was prepared for it. I tend to
do better with the wind than smaller riders as I can push through it easier.
About 3 miles leaving Cedar Point and returning to it, the road is very rough
with rumble strips that had claimed quite a bit of bike gear that day. I lost
part of a zone bar and cliff bar while I was eating them due to the rough road
conditions. We also had some long
stretches on chip and seal roads, which had loose gravel on them and reminded
me of all the gravel roads we had ridden in Switzerland. I remember how much
fun I had on this trip and how great the people had been. I thought to myself,
“Careful, gravel” and laughed, where were Claude and Michael (our Bike
Switzerland trip guides) when you needed them?
There was some nice scenery on the ride. I regretted not bringing a
camera to snap a few photos. (Is that against USAT rules, I wonder?) We passed
an alpaca farm; saw long horn steer and miniature ponies. There were countless
cornfields and a few grape fields.
By far, my favorite part of the course is a
road that is lined with weeping willows with water on both sides. There were
some white birds there that were beautiful (and had Barb from Bike Switzerland
been with me, I’d know what they were called!) and some swans. A group of us
returned the next day, just to take photos of this spot. Towards the end, I
passed a line of riders (that sure looked like they were drafting to me!) and
got a surge of energy. I was almost done! I got to experience the MAMMAL
(middle aged male athlete) rule that they had talked about in the pre- race
meeting yesterday. This is when a middle
aged male passes you and immediately slows down. According to USAT rules, the bicyclist
that is passed must drop back 3 bike lengths, in order not to draft. Well, I
dropped back a bit and then passed this guy hard. I never saw him again. My
bike split was 6:59, over a 16mph pace with a bathroom break, and I had beaten
the bike cut off time by over an hour! More time to put in my running bank,
which I knew was not going to be pretty.
T2, 12:32
Entering the bike to run transition, my family was there in
full force. I wondered how the day was going for them. We had all been out
there for over 9 hours now. I smiled and
waved. I bet they were hungry, I was hungry. Maybe we should all just go out to
eat? As I dismounted my bike, I had trouble standing up, my lower back muscles
were tied in knots and my hamstrings were very tight. I racked my bike and jogged
to the transition tent. Why didn't I just enter the Full Aqua Bike, I’d be done
now! (An event where you only do swim and bike and skip the run.) What was I
thinking? Do you realize that you have to run a marathon now Kim? Really? Do you realize what a slow runner you are? Do
you understand that you have to do this for 7 and ½ more hours if you are going
to finish? I sat down in a chair in transition, dumped out my run gear bag and
took off my helmet and gloves. A volunteer cautiously asked me if I was doing
the full? I calmly said yes, but thought, of course I am, why else would I be in this
transition tent with a gear bag lady? (Only the full athletes get gear bags and
go in the transition tents, the half athletes keep all their stuff by their bikes).
Her question made me angry and made me think I was in over my head and it
showed. I let it go. I put body glide on
the bottom of my feet and changed my socks. Putting on my shoes hurt as I bent
over to tie my laces. I was moving slow. I used some more chamois butter and
contemplated changing clothes. I had packed a change of clothes, a lighter
shirt and tri shorts that had less of a bike pad in them. I decided not to
change, although it would have felt good to put on different clothes, but didn't because I was afraid it would
take me too long and the longer I sat the more the cumulative fatigue of the
day was catching up with me. I put on my race belt and visor, loaded some gels
and shot blocks in my jersey and walked out. I used more nose spray. My swim
allergies had kicked in on the bike, I wasn't sneezing yet, but my nose was
running and I had to do the “one nostril” blow countless times on the bike. There
were a couple of women in transition with me. This time it didn't make me
happy, I just thought, well they will be passing me pretty quick. I was in a daze, I felt dizzy. My transition time was
horrible, over 12 minutes. What had I been doing in there? I hadn't even used
the bathroom. I saw my family again, I couldn't smile this time, I was hurting.
Looking back, I wished I had at least high fived them for being out there all
day for me, but I didn’t have the energy. I didn't think I would get to this point until
half way into the marathon. Later my Mom would tell me that she didn't like the
look on my face here and was worried, yeah I was too, mother’s always know. I had wished that I had put my inspirational
letter from my Aunt Mary Anne in my run bag, because I needed to believe what
she had written right now, that I was stubborn, like all Ruble’s and not a
quitter, but I would have to wait for this until I got to the run turn-around
at 13.1 miles where it was waiting for me in my special needs bag. I thought
about my late Grandma Ruble and how much I missed her and how she had taught me
how to swim and let me ride a mini bike on their farm and on the road (which is
something she didn't tell Grandpa or Dad about).
The Run, aka "The Death March", 7:24
I saw Caitlyn from SVTC as I started the run. She jogged with me for
a bit and asked if I was on my second loop. She realized her mistake as soon as
she said it. No, I’m on my first loop, gonna be a long day. We high fived and
she wished me luck. She is young, in her twenties and totally bitten by the
Ironman bug. She is who I would have been had I not been a 2 pack a day smoker
in my twenties. My pre-race plan was to run 12 minutes and walk 1 minute. My
legs felt okay. My lungs felt okay. I had done a lot of bricks in training (bike
rides followed by runs) and knew it would take a couple of miles for my legs to
wake up. But my back was commanding my full attention now. I hoped it would get
better now that I wasn't hunched over in the aero position. I stopped at the
first aid station near mile 1. There was a line, I didn't want to wait and risk
stiffening up. I filled up my hand held water bottle and moved on. I really
needed to pee. I can make it one more mile. At mile 2, I grabbed an open port-a-
potty and tried to sit down. I couldn't I could lean back with my arms
supporting me on both sides. It hurt like hell. I touched things in a port- a-potty
that you really should not touch. I didn't care. Now I couldn't go. Great! Finally, I got some relief and managed to stand up and found myself in full
walk mode. There were a lot of runner’s coming back from their first loop of
the marathon, they were walking too and had weary looks on their faces. It was
starting to feel hot. I told myself, just get to the turn around on the first
loop (6.5 miles) and then you can quit if your back is still hurting. I took
some advil, drank some Gatorade and shuffled on.
 |
| Dave, my biggest supporter and photographer. |
I wasn't able to keep
up with my 12 min run, 1 minute walks. I told myself; just get to the next aid station
which were about a mile apart. I took some salt tablets, gel and drank water
during this stretch. I stopped at another port-a-potty at mile 6. It was easier
to sit down, the advil was working. I was doing the math in my head,
calculating my sluggish splits and figured that it would take me close to 3 ½
hours to finish the first 13.1 miles, and I would have 4 hours to finish. I
could walk that right? I saw Jay from SVTC. He was on his second loop and had
about 6 miles to go to the finish. He was doing his first full distance like
me. SVTC had 14 members doing this race, but only 2 of us were crazy enough to
do the full. I was envious of him for being
over 13 miles in front of me. He was running faster than I can run on complete
rest. I wished that I could run like that. I found out later that he had went through
hell on the bike, 3 flat tires, a sidewall blow out and no spare tire. He had
started running with his bike and someone found a tire for him to continue. He
shouted some encouragement and said “you’re gonna do it.” I ran past bars with
people drinking and cheering. I enjoyed the respite of running through the park
with the wooden bridges. I was able to run more now that my back was feeling
better. I had reset my Garmin at the run transition and could keep track of my
heart rate and splits. I was keeping my heart rate at 130 bpm, which was great.
All that aerobic training I did the last 9 months was working. The miles were clicking off, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11.
I had lost all interest in anything sweet. I was living off water and pretzels
from the aid stations. Every now and then there would be timing mats we would
run over. I thought about my friends and family following online and how I
needed to get to the next timing mat.
Near mile 12, I saw
my sister Leigh Anne, she was jumping up and down with
excitement. I had known that Leigh Anne
had been a cheerleader when she was younger, but because we lived in different
states I had never seen her in action. Well let me tell you, the girl is an
amazing cheer leader. I told her I was thinking about quitting. She kept
telling me that I only had 13 miles to go, which was “nothing compared to what
I had already done.” I told her about my
back and how happy I was to finish the swim. She ran with me to the transition
area. We joked about the last time we ran together and how she had found out
shortly after that she was pregnant with my first niece, Lilijana and that
running causes pregnancy. She laughed. Thoughts of quitting were getting
quieter. I had warned everyone, myself included that this would be the hardest
part of the event. Coming back to the finish line, hearing people cheering for
those that were done and having to turn around and head back out. It was close
to 8 pm and starting to get dark. It was getting windier and chilly. I found my
special needs bag and went through it. I grabbed my letter from my Aunt and put
it in my back pocket. I put a headlamp on my visor and put on a reflective
jacket. I grabbed the Almond Joy bar and also put it in my jersey. I saw the
red bull and peanut butter M&M’s, I had no interest in them, I left them in
the bag. I saw the blister bandages and
was glad I didn't need them. I did some more nose spray. I was way over the
recommended dose for the day, but my nose was starting to clear up. I opened up
the pringle can and shoved a handful of them in my mouth.
 |
| At Marathon turn around, 13.1 miles, special needs area. |
I headed back out. I didn't see anyone in front of me, but
saw a lot of people who were finishing their second loop. As I crossed the
bridge heading out of the causeway, the wind got stronger and it started to
rain for a minute. I was glad I had a jacket on. They had one lane closed for
runners and the other lanes were open to traffic. There were long lines of cars
leaving Cedar Point for the day. Many beeped their horns in encouragement. A
few less supportive types yelled, “Hey, you are going the wrong way.” I wanted
to cuss at them and tell them to get out here and try this. I didn't I kept my
head down and kept running. I kept telling myself, this is where you earn it
Kim. It’s not supposed to be easy and if it was you probably wouldn't want to
do it. I stopped seeing any runners coming back in. It was very dark and very
lonely. The aid stations were brightly lit up and looked like a shining oasis
in my mind, except I didn't want anything from them. It was just nice to see
people. They told me to keep moving and that I was going to make it. I told
myself I needed to eat something and took some of the Almond Joy bar, it tasted
good. I love coconut. I haven’t read that this is a great thing to eat during an ironman, but I didn't care. I didn't need to pee anymore; this was probably
not a good thing. I noticed that my hands were not swollen, as they usually do
when I run longer than a couple hours. I was jogging for 20 minute stretches
now, very slowly and was afraid if I stated walking I wouldn't be able to start
running again, so I just kept going. My heart rate stayed at 130 like a
speedometer. I was hoping that Dave
would be out here on a bike to keep me company as we had talked about him
trying to do this. No Dave. Several miles later I saw another runner, going the
opposite direction. He asked me if he was going the right way. I told him yes,
you are just in front of me. He was relieved. It got darker. I was glad I had a
headlamp, but it wasn't working very well with my visor. I put it on my water
bottle so it would light up my feet. I needed it to find the arrows on the
course indicating the turns. I got nervous when I couldn't find an arrow. I
don’t want to get lost out here and if anyone could, I was a good candidate as
I had no sense of direction even in full sunlight. Near mile 18 I was walking
and could see the next aid station lights, but had to do a short loop to get to
it. A volunteer named Wes, walked with me and asked me if he could “take my
order.” I told him I really didn't want anything. I asked him how much time I
had left and what I needed to average per mile to finish. He whipped out his
iphone, did some calculations and said, well you are going to need to pick up
your pace a little, but you are going to make it. He talked me into having some
chicken broth and wow, I drank this and felt amazing. It was hot, salty,
soothing and comforting. I felt like my Mom had just brought me some soup
because I was sick. After I drank this, I knew I was going to finish. I thanked
Wes and started running again. Every aid station I came to after this, I asked
for chicken broth. They didn't have it. I had been carrying some gels and shot
blockers. I dumped them out of my pockets to shed weight. I started taking
pretzels and water again. I got to mile 20 and thought, 10K to go! I kept
hoping to see another runner, I didn't.
I ran through some neighborhoods that were a little shady in the
daylight and pretty creepy in the dark. They were a few people out walking and
smoking. I could smell the alcohol as I ran past the bars. I saw people
stumbling as they walked to their cars. I
thought, good thing I don’t have any money on me. My back was feeling much better. Now I was
just tired. I finally needed to pee again, but didn't want to stop and ruin my
forward momentum. So I kept going. Mile 21, 22 and 23 came and went. Aid stations
were starting to pack up their things. They looked tired too.
The Finish Line
I saw Dave near mile 24, as I crossed over the bridge on the causeway. I have known Dave for 14 years and short of him winning a large sum of money in a poker game, I have never seen him so excited. He kept saying, “you are going to make it, you are going to be an ironman.” He said he had to text everyone to let them know I was still alive, as the timing mats had gone down and they didn't know where I was on the course. I was thrilled to see him. I kept asking him how much further, even though I knew exactly how much further I had to go. We ran together for a mile and then Leigh Anne joined us, screaming “run faster!” I didn't have many gears left, but was so happy to see them both. I couldn't wait to get to the finish line. I heard the announcer say my name and that I was the last expected “official finisher.” He pronounced my last name right instead of saying rubble, which is so annoying. Rev3 advertises itself as a family friendly race and encourages family members to run across finish line with you, unlike WTC Ironman’s which prohibit this practice. I had told my family that I wanted them all to cross the line with me and I saw them all come running in with their Team Kim shirts on. I was high fiving people along the finishing chute, everyone was cheering and going nuts including a pro triathlete named Ian Mikelson who had stayed up late to watch the final finishers. I saw Corky and Yvonne from SVTC beaming with pride. Dave sprayed me and a volunteer with champagne. And then it became a hug fest. There was someone there filming us. I wish I could see video of this, I heard that someone from SVTC saw the whole finish streaming online, but I haven’t been able to find it. A volunteer took off my timing chip, put a Gatorade towel around me and put on my medal. They handed me my finisher t-shirt. I had done it. I was an ironman! It was the proudest I have ever been in my life. I looked up at my time, 16:43. 17 minutes to spare. I now understand why people get addicted to competing in ironman events. There is no feeling quite like this. Will I do another one? I haven't signed up for another one yet and am enjoying the vacation from spending all of my free time training, but I wouldn't rule it out. However, I am not sure I can convince my support team to spend another 17 hour day with me again.
Post Race
I had stopped moving, I started to feel stiff. Corky told me to keep walking. They had a food tent at the finish, but I had no interest in eating at this point. I didn’t feel nauseous, I just wasn’t hungry. I just wanted to go to the car, get back to the hotel and lay down. My Mom helped me to the car and kept me from falling over, I wasn't walking very straight. I said my goodbye’s to my family, told my Mom and Lori that I would see them at the finisher breakfast in the morning and wished Leigh Anne and Marylee a safe trip back to New Jersey. They were flying out of Cleveland at 7AM in the morning and were looking at only getting a few hours of sleep. I thought I would pass out once I hit the bed at the hotel, I was so wrong. I took off my tri clothes and surveyed the damage. I had some chaffing on my neck from the wetsuit, under my arms and had an outline of red where my bra had been. I decided against a shower at this point, it was going to hurt too much. I laid down and starting scrolling through my iphone alerts. It was insane the number of people who were rooting for me out there today. Dave was ready to call it a night and fell asleep quickly. And I just laid there and replayed the whole day through my mind for hours. I kept waiting for sleep to take me. It never did. I realized then, that having close to 20 gels with caffeine in them over the course of the bike and run, was not going to help. I started to get really hungry at 3AM and grabbed some spaghetti from the previous night’s dinner out of the fridge and ate it. I then started shivering and couldn’t get warm. My back didn’t feel right. I could not find a comfortable position to lay in. I tossed and turned. |
| Me & Zach Ruble, pro triathlete |
 |
| Yvonne and I visiting the weeping willow section of bike course the day after the race. |
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