Wednesday, November 23, 2022

Ironman Canada: if you're gonna DNF, might as well be at an Ironman?

I discovered this draft post from 2017. I'm posting it as-is. It jogs my memory, even if it won't make complete sense to anyone else!
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specifically good:
1. yukon guys and couple in front of me. Wife: "your honesty is admirable"
2. registration woman ringing the bell, giving me First Timer Band
3. Tech line: Husband and wife in front of me. 4. After distributing my fuel into my bike bento box and bike gear bag, i used the portopotties and sat on a bench, quietly and nervously finishing my bagel. A volunteer sat next to me for a while and chatted reassuringly. I don't remember what she said, but she was comforting.
5. Had to hang onto a couple kayaks to fix goggles and stretch calf cramps near the end of the second loop. Both kayakers were super friendly.
6. The four strippers who got my wetsuit off
7. the woman who dressed me in the T1 tent.
8. As always, the volunteers at aid stations. I stopped once to potty, then at a couple for water and another just because I had to stretch my back and relieve pressure on my toe. At the first to get more water, the gentleman said I could use some potato chips "as long as you don't tell anyone I gave them to you." It was a bag of Ketchup-flavored Lays, which is a Canadian thing. I would never buy them, but MY HEAVENS. They were exactly what I needed. Food that wasn't Gu, Chews, or Picky bars. So delicious. At the final aid station in Pemberton, before the climb, I just needed to stretch and rest my toe. The lady said I was fine, I had lots of time, and I would make it. I think I almost cried.
9. seeing WALL OF BLUE at Blueberry Hill!!!!!!!!! ********
10. When the official stood in front of me and waved me to a stop, I was partially in denial, but my heart sank. A couple in their 60s immediately came to talk to me while the official took my ankle bracelet, and asked if I wanted to ride in the bus full of other pulled athletes or come with them in their SUV. I said, "Umm...I don't...know..." and they said, "well then come with us!" I joined a guy a little older than myself, who looked as dazed and exhausted and disappointed as I felt. We agreed we were a little relieved and happy that if we had to DNF, it wasn't because we QUIT. We would've kept going until we fell over, even if we were by then, quite hating life on the course. The couple chatted about skiing and living in Whistler, offered us water, and apologized for only having an apple for food. Except "Oh wait! We do have some Clif Bloks??" "NO!!!" we both laughed emphatically. We were dropped at the med tent because by then my knee was swelling and he wasn't moving well either.
11. DNFing definitely kills the magic of the race. I could hear "YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!!" from the med tent, over and over. Then, without my phone and unsure of where to find my family, I decided to head over to find my bike (which had been put in a van and driven to T2) and gear bags. I was sad to realize that I wouldn't get my run special needs bag back--I knew this, but fully intended to get my $60 headlamp and compression socks and long-sleeved shirt and Kettle Chips when I got to mile 15 of the run. Nope. Never gonna get those back. The extremely long line of finished or DNFed athletes and family members was disheartening. I took off my bike shoes and walked in my socks. Thankfully, after maybe ten minutes in line, Jenny and Matt found me!! Dad and Mom found my bike! The sibs walked off to buy me an iced latte, while Dad and Mom hung out with me in line. We got to the front and were frustrated to find out that while they sorted our run and morning clothes bags, and the half Ironman bags were fully sorted, they hadn't gotten to the pile of over 1000 Ironman bike gear bags. They estimated over another half an hour. We noticed that only one volunteer was over there, and argued to be let in anyway. One exhausted and industrious athlete suggested that instead of us just rifling through for our own, we start sorting properly. So that is how a ton of exhausted triathletes ended up volunteering at the end of their own race. After I tapped out, getting lightheaded, Dad and Matt used my gear claim ticket to head in with other supporters and then the sorting proceeded quickly. Matt found my bag! We left, but both guys admitted that a small OCD part of them wanted to keep sorting until it was done...

12. Pregnant sister Amy made amazing tacos, refried beans, and Spanish rice. After dinner, I showered and then soaked in the hot tub with my family. We ate ice cream, and noted that I would still be running for another three hours if I had been allowed to continue (and my possibly torn calf held up). My intrepid sherpas promised that they would have been committed to the bitter end, but we were all able to see the very shiny silver lining.

What's next? I'm visiting a sports medicine doctor and starting physical therapy for my calf in the hopes that I can complete at least the race for which I'm already registered: Canyon de Chelly 55k. Possibly more...stay tuned.
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My calf did not let me race more in 2017, but stay tuned for a triumphant story, next!

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