Where I've Never Been Before

"I want to be where I've never been before.
I want to be there and then I'd understand;
Know I'm right and do it right--
Could I get to be like that?
I'll know what I don't know with nothin more to gain.
Will I get better or stay the same?
I find I always move too slowly."

--Guster, "Two Points for Honesty."

"You are... AN IRONMAN!"

Around 7:11 PM on the evening on Saturday, October 17th, I crossed the finish line at Ironman Maryland with a final time of 11 hours, 28 minutes, and 59 seconds. That was about a half hour faster than my *super-secret* time goal of 12 hours. The minor asterisk is that due to TERRIBLE WINDS and a SMALL CRAFT ADVISORY on Saturday morning, the race was delayed by about 45 minutes so the officials could set up a slightly short (sad face) more safe (happy face) swim course. My coach did the math and applied my average swim pace to the usual Ironman swim distance, and came up with a "distance-adjusted" finish time of 11:45:00.

I'll take it. I'll also take 7th place in my Age Group. Woop woop!

I won't bore you with the minute by minute details of the race, but I'll share some highlights, since you have followed this far!

Friday debacles galore, from minor bike damage in transport, to re-mounting (boyfriend)'s Garmin so I could see my power data in a better eye-line, to losing my athlete wristband. "Better to get all the bullish*t out of the way today!" I joked. The forecast was pretty awful, with a high of 58, morning lows in the 40's, with clouds and wind. "Better to take a few extra minutes putting more clothes on in transition than to get hypothermia and have to pull out of the race." I packed almost everything I had and delivered my transition bags. My sis et al arrived in time for dinner, and my ritualistic single glass of red wine was consumed (quickly). Sleep wasn't too elusive, either.

Saturday, oatmeal and coffee o'clock was 3:45 AM, and my chauffeur, err, sister, delivered (boyfriend) and me to the race site at 5:15 AM. With bags packed and bike set, there isn't really all that much to do on Ironman morning compared with other triathlons... so by 6:00 AM I was heading out of transition and a little short on activity to occupy my brain. I went for my warm up run at 6:15 to prime my asthmatic lungs and calm my anxious brain. Family arrived and found me just in time for the announcement that the swim would be shortened. I said a bad word in front of my nephew.

"You will still be an Ironman," the announcer said. "We still have Kona slots." These are important words to an anxious crowd about to race. (Boyfriend) distracted me by making me take photos for my sponsors, Hincapie Sportswear. By the time the new swim course was set, the winds had calmed, and the new distance was extended from 1.2 miles to 3000 meters, just short of 2 miles. Okay, whatever, let's just start the party already!!

The order of my strengths in triathlon events is decisively in this order: bike, run, swim. I'm not last out of the water, but I'm certainly not first, and I've had attacks of hyperventilation in open water more than twice. For me to say "the swim was really fun" and likely the event that was LEAST impacted by the ridiculous winds from the north... you know what's coming next. This was definitely the most crowded swim I've done, and the chop was quite noticeable by the finish, but it was easy to sight the buoys, and I swam strong and consistently. Getting out of the 63-degree water into the 47-degree air was a wake up call.

Swim time: 1:01:44
Place after swim: 31
Transition to bike time: 14:07 (sweet baby deity)

The women's changing tent was hilarious. Lots of freezing, wet, unclothed women trying to pull on layers and layers of clothing before heading out for several hours of cold windy riding... yeah. I was thrilled I decided to add a base layer and knee warmers to my T1 bag that morning. I wore a full Hincapie cycling kit with arm warmers, gloves, knee warmers, and toe covers. And... I was still freezing. We headed out south with a tail wind, and it was fun to see 26 mph and 110 watts on the computer, but that lasted about 8 miles, and then we were smacked with crosswinds and headwinds and crosswinds. I tried to maintain 20 mph average, but when I popped watts too often, I remembered the wise words of a friend who reminded me to be patient with my race and to keep the demons at bay. I cursed at the wind. I told it to F-off. "You won't ruin my race, you demon wind!" I yelled. Because "Plan A is: it's all about the run." And so is Plan B. And Plan C. And... Plan Q.

"Marathon legs," I told myself. "You have to get off this bike with marathon legs." I dialed back the gears, picked up the cadence, and let the miles per hour fall a bit, if reluctantly.

Memorable moments from the bike:
Multiple compliments on my socks (neon and teal stripes, shout out to my stylist(boyfriend)).
Guy on bike as I'm passing him: "Wow, I'm actually getting chicked right now." Me: "I hear that happens sometimes."
Me, to guy I'm passing at mile 105, heading due north into the wind at the SUPER SPEEDY pace of.... 13.8 miles per hour. "How about another hundred-and-five miles of headwind? Does that sound like a plan?" Guy: "I MEAN F*CK THIS!"
SHOUT OUT to Rebecca Allyn who returned the hug I gave her in Bike Special Needs at Ironman Arizona 2014. Along with the hug, my salt and vinegar potato chips and a Starbucks iced coffee hit the spot.

By the time I got back to transition, my cheer squad had been waiting close to 45 minutes. The Ironman tracking went haywire for most of the bike, so they arrived for my earliest possible dismount. Turns out only one woman in my Age Group went under 5:30 that day, so I don't feel too terrible about it. I had hoped for a slightly speedier bike time, but I stuck to the plan, stayed patient with my race, and ate a lot and drank a lot. And then it was marathon time!

Bike time: 5:47:54
Place after bike: 12

I did a complete change in T2. See previous: "I drank a lot." I was a wee bit over-hydrated on the bike. Pun intended. Interpret what you will. It's a badge of honor, and I will never deny it. ;)

Transition to run time: 10:05 (sheesh, really?)

Being able to run the marathon with healthy hips was a huge goal of mine this season, considering where I was 2 years ago. Having to walk 26.2 miles on a femoral stress fracture was... humbling. This time it was indeed ALL ABOUT THE RUN.

The Ironman Maryland marathon was FULL OF LOVE... oh, and headwinds. I saw my family and (boyfriend) coming out of transition, and then Ed Moser and Adam and Holli--good friends from DC Tri Club! Then I high fived Mackenzie, who was a few miles ahead of me. Then HUGS from bestie Heather at the Annapolis Tri Club aid station at Mile 2. I make it a point to spread the love around on the run, so I lovingly smacked the bums of people who had slowed down to walk in those first 5 miles, telling them "You got this." A 62-year-old guy almost lost it when I did that. Then more HUGS from Heather back through the aid station. Then flying hugs for Adam and Holli. Then cheers from Cat Myung in a Hot Dog costume and Robin Myers about a mile before the corner where my family camped out (high fives from the kiddo and a kiss for my honey)! The 2.5-loop course meant high-fiving Hugh three times, getting different signs and cheers every time I passed my family, and then at mile 21, seeing PAMELA who had literally just gotten off a plane at Dulles from Hawaii where she had been supporting our friend Bryan at world championships. She ran with me through about half of mile 24 and said she had to speed to get there because I was going too fast. When I passed my family at the corner at Mile 25, and yelled at them to get their butts to the finish line. :)

Entertaining details: I completely threw my nutrition plan out the window. I forgot to grab my handheld bottle out of T2 (duh) which forced me to walk through almost all of the MANY aid stations. For some reason, potato chips and bananas and water seemed like a good idea, and a few bites of each and quick sips held me through the first 13 miles. I've learned to let my brain make nutrition decisions (and NOT my stomach), so when I got to the second half, I alternated Pepsi and watermelon GU Chomps with chicken broth and potato chips from every other aid station, and that worked really well. It sounds disgusting, I know. I mean, artificial watermelon is about the most foul flavor on earth (second only to artificial "green apple" which tastes absolutely nothing like an apple). Folks unfamiliar with Ironman on-course nutrition will probably be grossed out by the chicken broth concept, but it works. The aid station at mile 20 had SWEDISH FISH, my all-time FAVORITE CANDY, and so I grabbed a giant handful of those, no shame.

The funny thing about racing is that the closer you get to the finish, the more damaged your brain is, and the more likely you are to attempt complex math to figure out "Just how fast do I have to run to make my goal time...? Divide by 6, carry the 1... Wait. Start over." When I looked at my watch with just about 3.5 miles to go and I was still under 11 hours... I thought, "Well, shoot. I could walk and still beat 12 hours." But I didn't walk anymore after that.

On my last turn around the corner where my cheer squad was parked, (boyfriend) said, "Get it!" He had done the math, too. And he was in on the secret goal. As I made the final turn through town, I heard some athletes talking about how they were going to space themselves out so they could each get their names called as they came through the chute. I thought, "Well I'll just run faster and go first to get out of your way." So I did. ;)

Run time: 4:15:09
Place after run: 7


Ohhhhhkay that was more detail than I planned. Hope I didn't bore you.

Thank you for your constant love and support! I'm announcing my OFFICIAL RETIREMENT from the FULL IRONMAN DISTANCE, on account of, I LOVE YOU ALL and I LOVE MY LIFE. The "half Iron" distance is a bit more manageable, fun, and sane, and Ironman70.3 races will be my focus. I'll be racing Ironman70.3 Boulder on June 11, 2016 and Ironman70.3 World Championships in Australia on September 4, 2016, and enjoying life and riding my bicycle with (boyfriend) in between.

You may now return to your regularly scheduled programming.

Love,

Abby

Don't Miss The Point

"The wood is tired and the wood is old,
and we'll make it fine if the weather holds.
But if the weather holds,
then we'll have missed the point;
that's were I need to go." 
--Indigo Girls, "The Wood Song."

On Wed, Oct 14, 2015 at 12:19 PM, Abby wrote:

If you will forgive me for getting all philosophical one more time...

Late on Monday, October 5th, the race directors confirmed that, for the first time in the 37-year history of Ironman, a race would indeed be rescheduled, and Ironman Maryland would run two weeks later on October 17th.

The day after the day after tomorrow.

And so two weeks have passed, like they always do, one 24-hour day at a time. Staying mentally focused and physically healthy has been an active process for me. I've been trying to sleep a lot (some success, some NOT). I've nearly overdosed on Vitamin C. Mentally, I've had some ups and downs. Up: getting to ride the 85-mile course of Levi's Gran Fondo and cheer for my boyfriend and his friend as they crushed the century on October 3rd. Down: waking up on October 4th and having a 2.5-hour run on the training plan when I was *supposed to be done.* :)

"The Wood Song" has popped into my head almost everyday.

This delay, this unexpected additional challenge, is exactly what Ironman is about for me.

I've trained a lot. I've done lots of amazing and fun long rides, some hard-to-believe-I-swam-that far sessions in the pool, and ENOUGH long runs. I've also raced a lot in the past several years. I've learned a lot about how to manage myself, what my physical limitations are, and what both "success" (standing on the podium!! qualifying for Worlds!!) and "failure" (panic attacks in the water, cramping on the run, flats on the bike) look like. Without a doubt, I have *super-secret* time goals for each portion of this race, known only by my coach and boyfriend.... if everything goes according to plan.

But that's the thing about Ironman. Kinda nothing is going to go exactly as we imagine. All we can hope is that we've prepared ourselves for the physical challenge, we've planned what we will do in a variety of scenarios, and we have the basic skill set and arsenal of tricks to manage whatever happens when the weather doesn't hold.

Speaking of weather: thankfully Joaquin didn't make landfall, and thankfully Dorchester County, Maryland, has extensive experience producing long distance triathlons. Also to note: for athletes who couldn't make it back for the rescheduled event, Ironman offered other options. Not everyone will be happy or satisfied, but it's hard to argue with Mother Nature.

Mother Nature is offering up a much chillier day than I would prefer for riding my bike really fast, but it should be an AWESOME DAY for a long run!

I'm SUPER grateful that my family was able to flex their plans, and they will all be in Cambridge to ring bells for me in their custom "Ironmom," "Irondad," "Ironsis," "Ironnephew," and "IronBIL" shirts. I am almost without words at how awesome it is that my cheering squad will now also include "IronBF." Thank you for making the trek, love!

Thank you for your constant support!!

Abby

__________________________________________________________
"Knowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom.
Mastering others is strength, mastering yourself is true power."
~Lao-Tzu

On Thu, Oct 1, 2015 at 10:25 AM, Abby wrote:

The plane that I was supposed to be on has departed SFO, and I'm unexpectedly at my desk at work today. As you may or may not have heard, the race directors announced yesterday that "Ironman Maryland will not take place this Saturday."

On account of heavy pre-event rainfall and the projected path of Hurricane Joaquin, emergency officials in Maryland determined that they could not guarantee their availability to properly monitor the race because they might be called to deal with hurricane-related circumstances. Further, the area may need to be evacuated, and bringing a bunch of athletes and spectators to the area would be counter to that directive, if given.

For the safety of the athletes, spectators, volunteers and support crew, it was wise (IMHO) for the race directors to make this decision.

The race has been tentatively rescheduled for Saturday, October 17, pending an evaluation of the area once the storm passes. I have already changed my plane ticket, and my dad was able to reschedule our accommodations. Cross fingers that Joaquin settles down or heads east.

Many people have reached out to see "how I am" considering this turn of events. My friend Naomi, who is also racing, put it aptly: "Bummed but dealing." After many months of training, it's a bit of a head fake to not race this weekend. But, Mother Nature will have her way, and there is not much gained in the wringing of hands or shedding of tears.

True statement: I don't want to do an Ironman in a hurricane. :) The thought of the swim/ride in gale force winds and rain is scary.

Another true statement: I don't want my friends and family to spectate in a hurricane!

So... What now??

I'm both hopeful and relatively confident that the race will indeed run on October 17. Though I had a really good taper going, I will pull back in the training plan (per coach's instructions) to "one more big weekend" and roll back into taper mode next week.

Staying healthy remains my #1 goal--no illness, no injury--so if you have any pull with the Up-Above, consider requesting GRACEFUL LANDINGS, both of the hurricane and its descent upon the East Coast, and of my feet upon the ground for

JUST TWO MORE WEEKS.

I will keep you posted.

Love,
Abby

From: Abby
Date: September 29, 2015 at 06:29:58 PDT
Subject: Ironman Maryland: Gratitude and Grace!

Dear friends and family,
It’s hard to believe that in just 4 short days I will be finally racing Ironman Maryland. It has been quite a journey since the last time I completed this distance. Many of you know that I suffered a stress fracture in my left femur, diagnosed just 10 days before Ironman Mont-Tremblant in 2013. Despite the injury, my heart wanted to finish that race badly, so I swam, biked, and walked (yes, the whole marathon) to the finish line. I was proud of myself for not giving up on something I had worked so hard for, even though it didn’t go exactly as I imagined. I ran (without pain) for the last 500 meters, and I heard Mike Reilly call me an Ironman.

My good friend Kris and I used to philosophize about how “triathlon is like life” because you never really know what is going to happen, and you just have to deal with it. Swim on, pedal on, keep putting one foot in front of the other—no matter what obstacles or hardships come your way—and the finish line will eventually come. I often joke that one of the reasons I am a good government employee is because I’m an endurance athlete—when most people would give up on a cause, I’m just getting started. An endurance athlete knows that success is measured in millimeters.

On Saturday October 3, I’m hoping to string together 2.26274e+8 millimeters, err, 140.6 miles of swimming, biking, and running through Cambridge, Maryland, at the 3rd running of Ironman Maryland. This time, I will be healthy at the starting line!

If you care to follow my progress, I will be racing bib #683, and there will be an Athlete Tracker and live finish line coverage on the Ironman web page. http://www.ironman.com/triathlon/events/americas/ironman/maryland.aspx
The journey to the starting line of this race has been fairly typical Ironman training, as I can tell. I’ve been exhausted, elated, excited, panicked, and all in all, I had a good case of the “Ironman Crazies." I venture that anyone training for Ironman experiences the gamut of emotion and stress, and while getting sick at 6 weeks out and crashing (quite badly) at 5 weeks out challenged me mentally and physically, all this pales in comparison to what others have overcome on their journey to the starting line.

Thus I will begin my gratitudes!

To my coach, Rob Falk, for absolute unwavering faith in me as an athlete from the first moment we met. For a consistent attitude of, “Well, duh,” when I perform well at races. For applauding my success at taking rest days above all other accomplishments. Thank you for always replying to my panicky text messages. Thank you for putting Ironman 70.3 World Championships on the 2016 calendar already. (PS: Add Boulder 70.3. June 11.)

To my mother, for finally understanding—45 races later—that triathlon is indeed survivable. Thank you for reading the athlete guide from cover to cover.

To my father, for finding a sweet house for all of us to stay in for the race, and to my sister, her husband, and my nephew (and mom and dad!), for wearing hot pink shirts with my name on them and ringing cowbells all day. You have no idea what it feels like to have “people” there for you. Thank you for coming.

To Heather, who is my kindred spirit in song and in racing, thank you for volunteering!! Please be prepared to deliver hugs when I see you at the aid stations.

To Kyrsten, for being a badass, and reminding me that I am a badass whenever I need it—work, life, triathlon. Thank you to you and Lindsey (and Kyle) for forcing me to go to Lake Stevens roll downs. Thank you for knowing exactly what to say no matter what the situation. Because, America. GO KICK SOME KONA BUTT, YOU BADASS!! (And same to Dana, and to Lindsey at IMAZ!!)

To Kortney, for racing Ironman Arizona so I had a reason to go last year and decide not to race that race. :) Thank you for your friendship, your support, and for a ride to the airport. You are a champion in so many ways. :)

To Blythe and Norm, for cleaning me up after my crash! I am grateful for the opportunity to get to know you better, and let’s hear it for iodine and tequila! I am lucky I was so close to your house when it happened.

To my roommate, Jenn, for general tolerance. And for forgiving me for occasionally snitching milk for my coffee. I always apologized! :)

To my coworkers, for never questioning my damp hair and lack of make up. Thank you for putting up with me, especially these last few weeks! Highest volume of training in the most stressful work times ever? Because, Ironman.

And last but certainly not least, to my boyfriend. For... everything. For thinking 4:30AM alarm clocks are acceptable, and for the sunrise bike rides that followed. For never letting me go on a long ride alone. For singing Marine drills or Jefferson Starship when the climbs were just too long. For stopping to take selfies. For salt and vinegar potato chips. For gadgets and data. For recovery drinks and green drinks and drinks with vodka in them. For believing in me. For tolerating the Ironman crazies. Your support has been unfathomable. May your legs carry you quickly to the finish line of the Levi’s Gran Fondo so you can obsessively hit refresh on Ironman.com to watch me cross the finish line on the internet. ;)

I have two general platitudes to the Up-Above: grace to walk my chosen path no matter the adversity, and gratitude for assistance to the other side. Ironman is far from graceful, and in the ups and downs of my journey to the starting line, I’m sure I have faltered in my goal of grace in adversity. For this I ask your forgiveness.
I am grateful for your support.

Let’s do this.

Love,
Abby