IRONMAN SANTA ROSA 2019

May 11, 2019

Swim: 1:07:40 Bike: 6:05:16 Run: 4:05:09

Me: Another Ironman? F*CK NO.

Also me, 3 months later: Signs up for another Ironman.

Training for an Ironman is no freakin’ joke. It’s a mental and physical task that pushes, pulls, tests, stretches, and beats the ever livin’ shit outta you...but holy Oprah, when you do it right, it can lead to an absolutely incredible day of racing and feeling amazingly alive.

If you’ve followed my triathlon journey for a bit, you might know that training for my first Ironman was...interesting. Feel free to refer to my other blog entry titled, “Oh Shit. Ironman Training Ain’t Easy.” Training for Ironman Wisconsin, last year, was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It was also during one of the worst bouts of depression I’ve ever dealt with. To be honest, I didn’t really enjoy training for Wisconsin. To be far more honest...I fucking hated training for Wisconsin with a deep and fiery passion. I was depressed, tired as fuck all the time, and just wanted to get to race day so I could have some time off from training. Race day was fun and all (I had ALL my people there so how could I not enjoy it?), but the 3 months I took off afterwards were pretty dope too. I was mentally and physically drained by that race so the months of rest were absolutely necessary AND a great idea. I waited until I genuinely missed training before I decided to get back into the swing of things.

To say folks were shocked that I had signed up for Ironman number 2 is an understatement. “Wait...You’re doing another one? You? Are you ok? Should I drop you off at your therapist’s office?” Since I essentially bitched and moaned the entire time I was training for the first one, let’s just say people were confused. I’d like to add that I still blame some of my misery training for Wisconsin on the fact that all of my longest workouts were during the summer...in Georgia...AKA...Satan’s butthole.

BUT! I’m very happy to say that training for Ironman Santa Rosa was an absolute blast. Not only had I started taking anti-depressants for the first time (woo!), I was getting to train with one of my best friends numerous days a week! We were constantly having fun, laughing, and consistently prepped for our race with excitement coursing through our veins. Sarah was my rock and THE reason I enjoyed training for SR. That lady just overflows with love and fun, y’all. No joke. She rules. We had a blast. Even after 6 hours on a bike, we’d laugh our way through the discomfort of a brick and just enjoy having each other there. Solidarity in the suffering. 

Training Buds.

Sarah is the precious angel swimming on the right and dealing with all my bullshit. :]

The week before the race, however, shit hit the fan. My amazing training partner and race buddy got as sick as all get out. We were set to leave for Cali on Wednesday, but by Monday she was in the E.R. and showed no signs of getting better. I was crossing my fingers that she’d have a miraculous recovery, but you can’t risk that kind of thing when it comes to an Ironman. It was heartbreaking when the time came and she had to lay it on me that she wasn’t going to make it to the race. Heartbreaking, not just because my travel plans had to shift and I didn’t have my buddy, but because she had every triathlete’s worst nightmare come true. Getting sick right before a race that you’ve trained for months in preparation for. Ugh. My heart hurt for her so bad.

So when Wednesday came, I got ready to fly to San Fran solo. Jason wasn’t coming this time, either, because I had insisted he go on a trip his best bud had planned to celebrate his birthday out in Colorado. They were seeing a band they both loved at Red Rocks...like how could I let him come watch me race all damn day instead of seeing an incredible show?? He had been so amazing at my first Ironman, but I really wanted him to enjoy that trip with his buds, so I pretty much forced him to go. Plus, it was Ironman number 2, not number 1...so it was fine.

As I meandered through the airport, Sarah and I texted and Marco Polo’ed constantly. (Marco Polo is a kickass video message app. Get it. They don’t sponsor me or anything...but maybe they should...If you work for Marco Polo and are reading this hit me up...I mean...) Sarah continuously encouraged me to enjoy my time in California and to focus on having a kick ass race. Of course she was telling me that - She’s the best. But I was just so. damn. bummed. I don’t mind traveling alone...when I plan on traveling alone...but going from being giddy about taking a trip with my homie to sadly eating a bagel at my gate, wearing earbuds to look less approachable, and hoping a stranger didn’t ask me about my tattoos or try to freakin’ small talk...now that was a bummer. 

Luckily, I did have Team Cori packed up and on their way to California on the flight right before mine...so I wasn’t technically solo, but I sure as hell felt like it in that moment. This time Team Cori consisted of my mom, aunt, and my mom’s childhood best pal/ practically my other aunt. They were the real MVP’s on this trip and saved me from a lot of stress and melt downs.

My flight went perfectly well as I binge watched as many movies as possible on my tiny airplane screen and was eventually forced off of the plane at the San Francisco airport (“Ma’am you’re going to have to finish Thor Ragnarok some other time...””But I’ve only seen it 4 times!!!”). I then met up with Team Cori so we could get our rental cars. I opted to get my own car so that they wouldn’t feel obligated to lug me around during all my registration and race malarkey and because I really wanted the independence. That way they could go do vacation things and I’d be free to do whatever I needed to do. The original plan was for Sarah and I to spend the first night in San Fran so we could have some fun and I could soak in the beautiful city I’d always wanted to visit. Well...plans had to change and Team Cori graciously welcomed me into their airbnb- a kickass cabin in the middle of the redwoods outside of Santa Rosa. Not gonna lie...that place was magical and being that deep in nature really helped settle me. I was so grateful for Team Cori, their generosity, and the beauty of Northern California’s nature. Grateful...but still pretty damn mopey. I decided to drive my rental car out to Santa Rosa alone...I just couldn’t chit chat at the moment and knew there was a high chance of me crying - I was right. Driving across the Golden Gate Bridge, in all its glory, for the first time, and not having my buddy with me = sobbing. Whoops! Ya girl was hella emotional.

Thursday (2 days to race day):

The week prior to the race, I was contacted by the folks who do all the video stuff for Ironman, asking if I’d be willing to be interviewed, because I actually filled out the part of the race registration that says “Tell Us Your Story” (which I have a tendency to skip) and they dug it and wanted to know more. At first I was a little bit meh about it simply because I didn’t want any added pressure or time commitments in an already stressful situation, but I’m so glad I talked myself into doing it. Thursday rolled around and I prepared to get registered at Ironman Village and meet up for the interview. Registration went smoothly as I got my race packet, swim cap, timing chip, swag that I’ll never use, etc. and after all that, I met up with a very nice fella named Marcus who would be doing my interview. He was a wonderful interviewer and the type of person who smiles with his whole face so needless to say, we got along. The interview was super fun as we delved into how I got started in triathlon and how I overcame my eating disorder in the process. Overall, it was a really cool experience. After the interview, he asked if I’d be interested in being filmed on race day too. That made me a little nervous because I was worried I’d feel pressured to “look cool” while doing an Ironman...which is essentially impossible...right? But then I thought, fuck it...why not? When was I gonna get that chance again?

Once that was all said and done, I met up with my friend Lea who was also racing that weekend. I got lunch with her and her husband and we made plans to drive the majority of the bike course and make our way out to Lake Sonoma where the swim would be. That’s one thing about Ironman Santa Rosa- 2 transitions that are a solid 40 minute drive apart. The logistics of the race are a bit tougher than your usual single transition race, but I can tell you it’s worth it. I mean have you ever been in freakin’ wine country???

I was anxious to drive the bike course mainly because I wanted to see the rumored “horrible” roads. Everyone I met who had raced SR before, immediately warned/made me nervous as hell about the shitty road conditions. I was more nervous about the damn potholes and whether or not my vagina would survive, than I was about anything else. But I’m here to report...those folks weren’t lying. It’s all true. The roads were not great by any means. It was hard to tell in the car, but I have working eyeballs and could see the rough chip and gnarly potholes throughout. Yeesh, the nerves started seriously kicking in.

We drove the first half of the “lollipop” style loop that you do 1 and a half times on race day (that’s not confusing...) and eventually made our way out to Lake Sonoma. That’s when our jaws hit the floor. It was absolutely gorgeous. Bright blue water being hugged from every side by big beautiful mountains. *heart eyes* I was in freakin’ heaven. Who cared if I fell apart on race day? This place was beautiful!

Lake Sonoma

Not a bad view…

After a short test swim, Lea and I split up so that she could drive the rest of the bike course, while I went to the little athlete welcome thingy where they would be playing my interview from earlier that morning. I made it just in time and found a spot to sit in the grass in the Santa Rosa square. My clip was the last thing they played and I immediately realized how awkward I felt sitting alone...with my face blown up on a screen...and my doofy voice being played from the speakers. I could have imploded. I suddenly felt more alone than I had that entire trip. I was sitting there watching this video of me trying to inspire body positivity, with a lump in my stomach wishing I had my people there to share it with me. Instead, I was sitting there alone, red faced, and feeling like a total nerd. The video ended and I immediately stood up like...TIME TO GO. A fella came up to me and asked if that was me and I embarrassingly said yes. He was very nice and congratulated me on overcoming my eating disorder and making it to another Ironman. My heart swelled a little with pride as I thanked him profusely and started to head towards my car. I still felt awkward as hell and continued my mindset of TIME TO GO. That’s when...scooter guy appeared. If you follow my triathlon instagram @colorful_tri_cori, you may have seen my stories about scooter guy. This motherfucker pulls up beside me on a damn Vespa and goes, “Was that you on the screen?” I nodded yes and he responded, “Oh wow. You’re way cuter in person than on the screen…” Then abruptly drove away. This flattened the pride that had been growing in my chest, thanks to the first guy, and replaced it with rage. Fellas, let me give you some advice. Women are not on this planet to be pleasing to your mother fucking eyeballs. If you want to compliment someone, take note from the first guy. He was kind (not pervy) and complimented my accomplishments. (not that I’m interested...Ya girl has Jason Krutzky and he’s literally the best human being on the planet.) Scooter fuckface decided to tell me I look dumb on screen, but ok in person. That was the final straw for my emotional rollercoaster. I got in the car and angry cried the whole way back to the Team Cori house, where I spluttered the story to my confused and concerned mother. I’m sure in his dumbdumb brain he thought he was complimenting me...but he probably also cat calls ladies from across the street. Lawd help me. OK ENOUGH OF THAT. Back to the race stuff.

Friday (1 day til race day):

Friday was my last day to really get my mental shit storm under control. My amazing friend, Lynda, was flying in that day ALL THE WAY FROM AUSTRALIA, and had left me a message the night before saying, “Ok, you’ve had time to be sad about Sarah. Now it’s time to show up for race day.” She was right. I hadn’t come all this way to mope my way through a race. I woke up Friday and took my coffee and breakfast out to a magical circle of redwoods just outside Team Cori’s cabin. We found it our first night there and I instantly knew it was my happy place. I sat down and meditated. I actually kept my eyes open in the silence so I could look at all the beautiful trees, when all of a sudden the words, I’M READY appeared in my mind. I said it out loud, like a whisper that I couldn’t control, and felt a massive wave of relief. It was true. I was ready. I had put in the training and I knew I was capable of having an amazing race. I also knew I was capable of finishing 140.6 miles because I had done it before! Only 8 months prior! That moment changed everything. That moment was key to my mentality on race day. Over and over I kept thinking, I’M READY. My confidence began growing and my excitement to race had finally shown up. It was time to prove to myself that I could enjoy an Ironman. Like truly embrace and enjoy the experience of 140.6 miles.

Side note: My mom and I decided to hang out solo that day and made our way to Ironman Village one more time to drop off my run and bike bags, and to make one more round through the tents to make sure I didn’t forget anything. As we were meandering and chit chatting, a gal came out of a tent and yelled, “Hey! Are you Cori? I’m one of the folks that picked you for the video!” I of course responded with a, “OMG Heeeyyy!” She was super sweet and as we were chatting I introduced my mom. She immediately gasped at my mom and asked, “Do you want to medal her at the finish??” My mom and I looked at each other in confusion like, “What the fuck does ‘medal her’ mean?” Then it clicked in my brain and I grabbed my mom by the shoulders and exclaimed, “She wants to know if you want to put my medal on me when I cross the finish line!!” My mom’s eyes instantly filled with tears of happiness and excitement and screamed, “YES.” I couldn’t help getting teary eyed, myself! I was so blown away by such an awesome opportunity thanks to the sweet folks at BCC Live and Ironman. That was the cherry on top of my I’M READY ice cream sunday. Now I even got to look forward to hugging my amazing mama as I crossed the finish! 

RACE DAY:

The night prior to the race, Lynda had arrived and we checked into our airbnb right near the finish line. That meant the buses out to transition and the drop off for special needs stuff was right down the road. Easy peezy. I woke up that morning feeling surprisingly calm. I made my way to the kitchen, made some coffee, and calmly ate 2 whole slices of peanut butter toast. 2 whole slices! The morning of IM Wisconsin, I was able to eat about 3 bites of 1 sad little piece of toast and that was a long, rough struggle. In Santa Rosa, I ate my toast, sipped my coffee, and just kept repeating I’M READY in my head. I sat there and thought of Sarah and how badly I wished she was there. I knew I needed to soak in and enjoy my race, not just for me, but for her. I could tell I was going to have a good day. I wasn’t nervous or scared. I was absolutely brimming with excitement to see what I could do with the day.

Lynda dropped me off at the buses to transition and we said our goodbyes. T1 had very little parking and was a bit of a logistical nightmare so I told Team Cori to not sweat trying to make it out there just to see me come out of the water. Plus, they get lost even with tiny computers in their pockets that have GPS (love them!). Lynda wasn’t as easy to convince. She just kept nodding like, “yeah sure...you really think I’m not gonna get my happy little Australian ass out there? Oh I’m gonna...” I eventually found my friend Lea and we hopped on the bus to head out to the swim start. Sharpies were being passed around so we could all go ahead and get our body marking done and it was honestly kind of hilarious. The bus was pitch black and everyone kept having to use their phone lights, like an elderly person in a dimly lit restaurant. Just so they could see what the hell they were doing.

We made it out to beeeautiful Lake Sonoma with plenty of time to spare. I wanted to get there nice and early because I really wanted to get to the swim start with extra time. In Wisconsin, I took too much time stalling with Jason/ freaking the fuck out/ getting my wetsuit on that when I tried to get into the self-seeded line for the swim start, it was so crowded that I got stuck in a group that was 30 minutes slower than the group I wanted to be in. This time I wanted to be right up in the front and make sure I started in the 1-1:10 section. I’ve always managed to start a self seeded race somewhere in the middle, but this time I wanted as much open water as I could get on the 2 loop swim course. That’s right, 2 loops- a first for me. 

I got my bike all set up, chatted with some of the very friendly gals around me, then made my way down to the swim start. That’s when I found Lynda, of course. She comes sidling up like, “Oh yeah, totally found parking. It was amazingly easy and super simple. Duh.” I was so happy to see her! She’s such an incredible friend and SUCH a good race cheerleader. Like seriously, if someone could be a professional spectator, she’d be at the top of the pay grade. Also, she’s an incredibly talented triathlete herself, so having a fellow athlete there to help was amazing. She helped me get my wetsuit on and was there when the film fella came up for a little pre-race interview. I was so excited and giddy that I looked like a total ding dong as I hopped around talking (at a shockingly high pitch, I might add) about how I wanted to have a fun race. At least I was authentic?

SWIM:

Folks started lining up for the swim and though I wanted to start with Lea, I couldn’t find her in the sea of wetsuits and swim caps, so I just hopped in line right next to the 1-1:10 sign holder lady. Right where I wanted to be. My adrenaline was through the roof as I obsessively checked that my goggles still fit on my face properly. But overall I just felt excited to see what I could do for my second go at an Ironman. Though my adrenaline was high, I was surprisingly calm upstairs in brain town. My mantras of “I’m ready” and “I know I can do this because I’ve done it before” repeated in my head and kept me grounded and surprisingly chill. 

The gun went off and folks started entering the water with the rolling start. There were five little corrals right at the water’s edge where people would line up and were sent onward every 5 seconds. I love that kind of start. So much less stressful than a wave start. I got in my corral, steadied my breathing, and got ready for my long day of racing to begin. My little chime went off and I dove right in.

I knew the water was going to be pretty chilly, so luckily I was prepared to deal with that for a bit. After the first 2-300 yards the feeling like little prickly ice cubes were poking my face went away and I settled into a solid yet relaxed pace. The swim course at Ironman Santa Rosa is a 2 loop bad boy. I thought I wouldn’t like that about it, but once I got started, I realized my first loop could be like my test drive. Figuring out where I wanted to site and whether or not I wanted to stick to the sides of the mass of swimmers or power through the middle. Since I started so early on, I was reeeeally enjoying all of the open water and lack of crazy dodging around fellow swimmers. Plus, I was surrounded by people swimming similar paces so I tried drafting as often as possible- something I’ve never been great at, but totally nailed during this race. The first loop went about as smooth as I think it could have gone. Then I found myself ready to hop out, run around the corner, and hop right back into the water for loop number 2. 

Now that everyone had entered the water, things started getting crowded. Nothing too crazy at first, but after a while I started getting smacked on the back or on the leg by fellow swimmers. The turn buoys got hella hectic. There were still plenty of people around me who were obviously also on their 2nd loop. Some of them were not in any mood to slow down, so the turns got rather aggressive. At the 3rd turn that would send us back towards the swim exit, I literally got swam over by a rather aggressive male swimmer. I just remember thinking, “Yo! Dude! We got a shit load of racing left! Chill out!” But whatever, everybody has goals and everybody has their methods so once I settled the raging bull of anger in my soul, I got right back into my pace and just kept on chugging along.

I reached the swim exit and was stoked to see I had finished 4 minutes faster than I had hoped! One thing I had to think about during the swim was whether or not I was going to take the time to put on the warmer attire I had in my transition bag. It was still overcast and the chilly morning air had me concerned. The main thing I thought about was the fact that the first like 5 miles of the bike are aaallllll down hill from the lake. I worried that I would be shivering and miserable, but also had the feeling I would be fine once I settled in and got down to business. Luckily, I had raced a sprint just a couple of weeks prior that was super cold and I hadn’t put on anything extra and was just fine. Plus, the run from the swim exit to transition is about a quarter of a mile straight up a big ass hill. Maybe the heat that came from that effort gave me the confidence I needed to skip my gloves and head straight for the shocking amounts chamois cream. * too far? *

BIKE:

The bike is absolutely what makes me the most nervous during races. I have dealt with so many fit issues, saddle issues, and confidence issues that I have a tendency to go into the bike with the mindset of “just finish so you can get to the run.” But for some reason, I felt empowered as soon as I got my bike and hopped on. Even when I IMMEDIATELY lost the bottle I had in my back bottle cage. I laughed it off and just kept going. That bottle was more for emergencies anyway and with the overcast skies and predicted temperatures in the 70’s, I wasn’t very concerned. I was astride my turquoise steed and we were storming the gates of castle Santa Rosa...I’ve been watching too much Game of Thrones.

The descent down from the lake to the loop we would be doing 1.5 times was actually super fun. I didn’t get all that cold even during that so I felt confident in my decision to skip the extra clothing. Once again, since I had started so far up in the rolling start, I had plenty of open road to enjoy. In the past I’ve thought that starting in the middle of a rolling start was best because it gives me “carrots to chase,” but I realized really quickly that I far more enjoyed not being crowded and not having to worry about drafting issues. It was so pleasant just being able to settle into my aero bars and get into my pace.

So, fun fact: My power meter broke literally the week before the race and I decided I didn’t feel like investing in a new one. So my heart rate monitor became my best friend. I had never raced solely on heart rate before, but I actually liked the idea of not having another number in my face. Another calculation. Another thing to tell me whether or not I was doing a “good job.” My legs felt stronger than they’d felt in months and my confidence in my bike fitness was suddenly through the roof. I felt more comfortable on my bike than I had felt in soooooooo long- saddle issues had been solved with a new saddle only days before handing my bike over to Tri Bike Transport. I couldn’t stop smiling! I was so happy to be out on that beautiful course and was giddy that I felt so strong right off the bat/ my vagina was totally going to survive! 

Now...like I mentioned earlier...the road conditions were not amazing. Like not at all. But I think my fear of the low quality was actually a bit exaggerated so when I got on the bike I was kind of like, “Oh ok. This isn’t like upsettingly horrible or scary...this is fine. I can handle this.” It kind of felt like the advice I give my clients when it comes to getting a tattoo. Scare the hell out of yourself. Prepare yourself for it being the worst pain you’ve ever felt. So when you sit down and it starts you go, “Oh...That’s it? Ok, that’s not that bad.” My overcompensation of dreading the poor road conditions actually made it ok. I felt nice and comfy on my new saddle and my legs felt strong as hell.

I settled into my proper heart rate zone and could tell I was going faster than I would if I had a power meter-which in my opinion, had been holding me back. I felt strong and my heart rate was reciprocating that feeling, so I just went for it. I was legit smiling a lot throughout the ride. I was so happy to be there. So happy to be on my bike. So happy to feel strong and confident in my abilities. SO HAPPY I HAD THAT NEW SADDLE. I was  singing Lizzo and Beyoncé in my head (and occasionally out loud) over and over and enjoying the hell out of myself. I stayed focused on drinking tons of water, even though it wasn’t hot, and getting in all my nutrition right on schedule. For my last IM I raced with mostly gels and the occasional solid- Lara Bars. This time I decided to cut out all the sugar goo that had started making me nauseous. I had grown to hate the taste and texture of gels after eating so damn many. This round was only Lara Bars and the occasional Honey Stinger gummies- to spice things up with a different flavor and because they’re pretty much candy and candy makes me happy. I knew eating all solids could bite my in the ass later....on the run....if I hit the “brown mile” if ya know what I mean...but I was willing to risk it. They had been lovely all throughout training so I just stuck to my plan. 

The bike course was absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. Vineyards on every corner. Rolling hills topped with vine upon vine upon vine. I made sure to soak in the beauty of this course regularly. For the most part, while racing, I’m scrunched down in aero, looking only at the road ahead of me. Not in mother fartin’ Santa Rosa, though. How could I not look around? It was glorious! Plus, I really hadn’t spent all that much time in aero while training over the winter (too cold!) and my neck was getting stiff and sore within the first couple of hours. I’d look around every now and then just to stretch my neck...but also to enjoy the view. The bumpy roads didn’t help the neck situation either. Then, my lower back made her usual dramatic debut as I got closer to mile 30 and she started tightening up and screaming at me to get off my bike and stretch. My lower back has given me shit from the very beginning of my time in triathlon...so this was no surprise. I’m still so grateful for my mindset that day because I felt the soreness coming on and didn’t care. I settled into the pain and just kept pushing on. Plus, I was doing the math on my pace and couldn’t believe I was headed for a potential sub 6 hour ride...which for me is a huuuuuuge deal. Especially since my goal was to be in the 6:20- 6:30 range. That kept a fire under my ass to just keep pushing.

The last 30 miles were pretty damn painful, though. Not gonna lie. Having spent a number of hours in discomfort...shit started getting real. I had to sit up every 5 miles or so to try and stretch things out. I’d get out of aero and try to twist, bend, and stretch the best I could. But it really wasn’t doing all that much to help. Luckily, my brain was still in Happytown. An Ironman is a long ass race, so I felt like getting out of aero and stretching every now and then wasn’t that big of a deal. This ain’t my job so I can be chill. 

The last few miles flew by and the next thing I knew, I was at transition and handing off my bike to a volunteer. I may not have gone sub 6 hours, but holy shit I’m still so proud of my 6:05! That’s a 38 minute PR! 38 MINUTES! 

I made my way into the changing tent with a smile on my face as I tried to gauge how my leggies were feeling. Things were tight, but of course they were...I had just ridden 112 miles. My pleasant little volunteer lady was helping me change my socks and get my sunscreen on when I started trading out my empty bike nutrition for the new run nutrition. I had a half empty thing of salt I had stashed in my bra, but I also had an emergency bottle in my run bag just in case. I decided I was going to switch it out for the full one since I have a tendency to spill it all over the place when trying to function like a normal human being...but in the flurry and rush of it all, me and my volunteer got our messages mixed and I ended up leaving with 0 salt...of course I didn’t realize that til a couple miles later...

THE RUN:

I came running out of the changing tent and immediately saw Team Cori screaming their heads off. I LOVE seeing my people at these points in a race. I hadn’t seen a familiar face in hours. I was so pumped to see them. They were all losing their shit too, so that was hilarious and always fun. I high fived them and smiled and screamed how much I loved them. Then it was time to get down to business. A fella on a bike with a go pro came up beside me and I suddenly remembered I had agreed to be filmed! He asked how I was feeling and how the bike went and I told him I felt great (while consciously trying not to cuss...because I’m sure that’s not allowed on the Ironman youtube...and my Oprah, is it hard for me not to cuss...). He asked me a couple more questions then laughed and said, “hey...just so ya know...you’re doing like a 7:30 pace right now soooo...” I looked at my watch and yelled, “oh shit! (Failed at not cussing.) You’re right!” He laughed and wished me good luck as I slowed my ass down and settled into a mid 8 minute pace instead. The distraction of chit chat and the desire to “look cool” had got me started going way too fast. Whoops! 

Within the first mile I saw Lynda! She was jumping and screaming and kept saying Australian-y things that I knew were compliments, but wasn’t quite sure what they meant and I laughed and smiled and felt so grateful to have her there- A fellow athlete who knew exactly what was headed my way for the next 25 miles. As much as I love Team Cori (and I looooove Team Cori), it’s always so comforting to have someone on the sidelines who has been in your shoes/ knows how to use the tracker... HA.

The first few miles were a bit more painful and uncomfortable than I was hoping they’d be. My biggest goal for this race was to do a sub 4 hour marathon. I ran 2 marathons before getting into triathlons and they were both done while I was in the midst of my eating disorder and neither were sub 4. My second one was actually slower than my first! Then, at IM Wisconsin I did a 4:18...which was still slower than the other 2 marathons...but just barely. This marathon felt like my redemption. I wanted to crush it as proof to myself that I was so much more than that version of me that ran those first two marathons. Sooooo when mile 2 was already ouchy...I got a bit nervous. My goal was to hold an 8:50 mile the whole time. That’s what I had done all winter in preparation for this race. 8:50 was my sweet spot. Well...by mile 3 I was already in the 9’s. It was ok, though. I wasn’t super put off by it because I had already come in on my bike 20 minutes earlier than expected. Oh, and then I realized I didn’t have any salt. YAY!

This run course is a 3 loop course. I’m not a huge fan of more than 2 loops, but what can ya do? Loop 1 was...ok. Loop 2...oh lort, I’m dying and I have another loop left. How is this possible? It’s not. This is impossible. Loop 3...ok! Last loop! The only way to truly make everything stop hurting is to make it to the finish line...so pick it the fuck up and get it done!

By the end of loop 1, things were hurting real good...lots of things in lots of places. During Ironman Wisconsin, I never let myself take a moment to stop and stretch when things got super tight, out of fear that I wouldn’t be able to get my ass going again. Like if I stopped moving forward, I would just lay down, give up, and take a nap. (I’m not dramatic. You’re dramatic.) Well, this time I decided to try a different method. Instead of powering through that tightness and pain like I did at Wisconsin, I would wait until I got to a place with a hand rail and use it to hold myself up while I did that standing figure-4-stretch-thingy that stretches your butt and lower back. I was fine with sacrificing 10-15 seconds stretching in an attempt to find some comfort here and there. Then...Then I hit the brown mile.

That’s right. I had to poop. Ironman nightmare. Or at least I felt like I might have to poop...but wasn’t sure...and didn’t want to risk anything sketchy happening. I normally don’t even stop at porta-potties for number 1’s because I have somehow figured out how to pee while running.....shut up. But this race I couldn’t even make that happen so the porta-potties and I had to become friends. I thought I could just power through the discomfort and keep trudging on, but I was getting uncomfortable and something needed to change. I found a porta-potty, hopped in, unzipped my onesie that was soaked in water, sweat, and Gatorade...tried to unstick it from my shoulders and arms...failed...realized if I really wanted this to happen-taking my one piece race kit off AND getting it back on- it may take approximately 10 years. So I gave up, rezipped, shrugged my shoulders in an “oh well” sorta fashion, then exited the porta-potty with my fingers crossed that I didn’t embarrass myself a few miles down the road. 

I’m happy to report that I did not *I repeat..DID NOT* shit my pants.

Eventually my stomach settled and I was just fine. But I had to include that part, because it made me laugh real hard when I couldn’t get my kit off. Like an LOL laugh in a portable toilet.

Starting the second loop, I made eye contact with Lynda as she was cheering me on and she immediately stopped and was like, “Are you ok? You doing good? You got this. You got this.” Aka-she could tell I was already in a whole hell of a lot of pain and was struggling to keep my pace. That second loop was hell. Knowing that I still had another loop to go after that one...ugh...torture. 

Everything hurt, but my form was somehow staying pretty steady and my pace wasn’t falling off as much as it felt like it was. I was just trudging along, singing Beyoncé in my noggin’, and wondering if not having salt was really that big of deal. Base was on course, but Base salt had started making me nauseous over the last 6 months…so I was using just plain ass himalayan pink salt. I just tried drinking a bit more Gatorade in the hopes that the extra electrolytes or whatever the fuck, would help me.

Then, I started loop 3 and came to the conclusion that the only way I was going to relieve all this pain was by getting my happy ass across that finish line. That idea weirdly helped me a lot. I just kept thinking, “Fuck it. It’s just one more loop. I didn’t come all this way for nothin’. I can do this...then I get to have wine and pizza.” Plus, I knew my sweet sweet mama was going to be waiting for me at the finish, ready to put on my medal. It felt like my feet were made of concrete, but I was still holding my form the best I could, stopping to stretch when things got too dire, reminding myself that I had already done one Ironman so I knew I could do this one. I just put my head down and ran. Literally....my shoulders and neck were weirdly extra hunched (even more than my usual horrible posture) and I couldn’t really do anything about it. So my head was legit...down. Anywho... Around mile 20, I actually started picking my pace back up. I was calculating and could tell my sub 4 hour dream wasn’t out of question just yet. I wanted it so bad, but I also knew that if I didn’t get it...it didn’t matter. My day had already been amazing.

By the last few miles of any race, I’m always huffin’ and puffin’ like a French bulldog chasing a squirrel, but this time was no joke. People kept turning around because they could hear me coming up behind them! I didn’t care. I was ready to be done and if I had to sound like some weirdo, fuck it. With one mile left to go, I picked up my pace and tried to straighten up the best I could. Even though I was physically in a hell of a lot of pain, I was SO HAPPY mentally. So grateful. So excited. So proud of myself. So stoked to hug my mama. I came around the last turn towards the finish and could see her in her turquoise TEAM CORI t-shirt, jumping up and down with the medal, screaming her head off! I was smiling so big and actually felt like I was present for my finish. I was soaking in the experience so much more than I had at Wisconsin. I ran across the finish line knowing that though I hadn’t quite made my sub 4 hour goal, I had given my everything and had raced with my heart. 4:05 ain’t half bad!! Plus, I still got A HUGE PR. I laughed my way across the finish and wrapped my sweaty ass arms around my mom and burst into happy tears. It was the most magical finish line experience I had ever had. And it was at the end of the Ironman I had always wanted- one where I was filled with gratitude, love, and joy. An amazing end to an amazing day. Then, I immediately called Sarah and we cried happy tears together and it was the cherry on top of my day. Thank you to my amazing support crew, Jason, my friends, and anyone and everyone who sent me encouragement in the days leading up to and following the race!

THANK YOU FOR CONTINUING TO FOLLOW MY JOURNEY AND READ MY EXTREMELY LONG RACE REPORTS. I LOVE YOU!

LINK TO MY IRONMAN MINUTE:

https://www.facebook.com/63559965550/posts/10161912124000551?s=1118250080&v=e&sfns=mo

I can’t seem to be able to find it on youtube to link it…just on Facebook. So hopefully that works.

But here is the Ironman Santa Rosa Highlights vid I’m also in (lookin’ dumb as hell but whatever.)