“Far better it is to
dare the mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by
failure, than to take rank with the poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer
much, because they live in the grey twilight that knows not victory nor
defeat.” – Theodore Roosevelt
This is a hard race report to write. I don’t enjoy writing
about the great races, so the bad ones are really tough. This is my first year racing where nothing
has gone right. Every race has been a struggle and results have been far less
than stellar. The fact I even squeaked out a 2nd place finish at IM
Texas to qualify for Kona was a small miracle.
The week leading up to the race was a little strange as I
was in Kona alone. Although I had lots of friends there racing and spectating,
I was trying to rest and stay off my feet which meant a lot of time alone in my
condo. I couldn’t wait for Elisa to arrive Thursday night to cure me of my
boredom and get me excited for the big day! Her support was invaluable and I
got to the race start Saturday morning feel great and ready to roll.
Swim:
I somehow tweaked my back (my SI joint) during the swim,
admittedly probably due to the swell and my inability to sight without severely
arching my back. I always swim between a 1:08-1:10 no matter the conditions- I
never get faster or slower so I just assume I will always be in that window.
When I hit the swim turn around in 34 minutes I figured I was right on track. Soon
after things went downhill. The current was strong going against us and I
pretty much swam the last 1.2 miles alone (this was a notable difference from
2012 when it was a mass start and I was surrounded by bodies the whole way). I
prepared myself for a slow swim time, thinking worst case scenario would be
1:12-1:13. You can imagine my surprise/shock/horror when I exited and saw 1:20
on my watch. I honestly thought my watch had stopped at 1 minute and 20 seconds
into the race. Even my first Ironman swim (before I knew what a swim interval
was) was faster than this!!
I told myself it wouldn’t matter as long as I had a solid
bike (5:30 ish was the goal) and could execute my plan of a sub 3:30 run. Somehow Taylor Swift’s cheesy song, “Shake It
Off” popped in my head and I spent the next half hour singing, “shake it off.” I
was determined not to let negative thoughts ruin my race and if Taylor Swift
was somehow a catalyst for this, so be it.
Bike:
It wasn’t until 25-30 miles into the bike that I knew something
was seriously wrong with my back. It had been super tight and achy up until
that point but I thought it was just going to be an annoyance. Soon with every
pedal stroke my back would tighten and seize. It was around this point the wind
became unbearable and I had to put more power into the pedals just to stay
upright. This was the wind I remembered from 2012 (when they said it was the
worst wind in 10 years) and I was hoping we weren’t going to see it again in
2014. By mile 40 I knew my race was done. I was struggling to push 100 watts
and tears were in my eyes (I don’t cry, like ever). The next 20 miles to Hawi
were incredibly brutal. I had already turned off the time on my bike computer
because I knew it would just upset me more. When I finally got to the
turnaround in Hawi I thought I could at least get some fast miles in without
having to put much power into the pedals. Thanks to my huge 54 big ring I was
able to start hauling at about 35 miles per hour with no pain. However, within
about 2 minutes I saw FOUR girls go down due to the wind. That is some scary
shit. A guy who was riding in the opposite direction yelled to me, “slow down,
everyone is crashing.” I slowed down,
not wanting to crash but also upset that I couldn’t take more advantage of the
tailwind. By mile 75 I was in excruciating pain and trying to figure out
whether I should stop on the side of the road and try to stretch or just call
it a day. I honestly didn’t know what to do; I was in my small ring, spinning at
about 9 mph. That’s brutal when you still have over 35 miles to go in a serious
head wind. I also have to admit due to the staggered start and the slow pace I
was keeping, I was at the back of the race for the first time in my life.
Between miles 80- 95 I maybe saw 4 people. I was hurting and crying and totally
alone in the hot lava fields. It felt like hell. I just wanted people around to
at least make me feel I was still in a race damn it. Just then I heard a voice,
“Cortney, is that you?” A new friend I had made that week, Sherry, rode up next
to me. She is a coach and super strong athlete who was gunning for a podium
spot in the 50-55 AG. I told her I was in pain and I didn’t know what to do.
She yelled, “ When you’re going through hell, just keep going.” Those words
seemed like magic (along with the Advil and soda I got at the next aid station)
and suddenly I felt a tad better (and this means instead of 80 watts I could
push 120).
Those last 15 miles were definitely the hardest I have ever
ridden. I was trying to figure out what to do when I got to T2 to help my back
so that I wouldn’t have to walk the entire marathon. I staggered into T2 and as
soon as I sat down the tears started and those tears triggered an asthma
attack! I LITERALLY couldn’t cry! My lovely volunteer wanted to send me to
medical but I refused. I told her I wanted to try and promised I would come
back if I couldn’t make it. I downed a few more Advil, used my inhaler and got
up to run a marathon, only I got stuck and couldn’t stand up. F$@%&!!!
Another quick pity party and I was on my feet. I figured the pain would be
there whether I was running or sitting in medical so why not try to run.
Run:
I left T2 and tried to hide the fact I was crying because
there were so many amazing spectators cheering and I am certainly not used to
crying in public (or ever). I did my best job of faking it and turned to run up
the hill at Palani. Just then I heard the announcer say, “Number 1696 coming up
Palani has text book perfect running form. Everyone should take a look at that.”
WHAT?? He’s talking about ME? This sounds stupid, but I swear that gave me a
huge kick to try harder and suddenly I thought maybe I could actually get
through the run. Within that first mile I saw friends, Adrienne Smith and
Cherryl Rose, who cheered me on and gave me a boost. My first mile clicked off
at 7:28 and thought, “holy shit, let’s turn this day around and at least have a
respectable run.” The pain in my back was intense, it felt like someone hitting
me in my SI joint with a bat with each step, BUT I was still able to move and
getting good turn over. The pain was much more manageable than on the bike and
I figured if I could move than I could put the pain out of my head. I started
pretending the throbbing pain was like a metronome that I was running to (this
is better than a Taylor Swift song, right?).
The energy on Ali’i Drive is always amazing and it was so
nice to finally see people after being alone and in a dark place for so long
during the bike. I got several more shout outs about my running form (I guess
when you don’t use energy on the bike it’s easy to have good running form). The
cheers kept me going and soon I saw my amazingly wonderful sherpa Elisa, which
was a huge boost. And at the turn around I saw my Tribike Transport peeps and
they gave me a lot of motivation as well. I thought maybe my day was looking
up. When I made the U-turn to head back up Ali’i my back seized hard and reminded me that I was
not well. I realized that the climb up Palani and the Queen K was going to be
difficult. I tried to keep my pace (7:40ish) knowing that it was going to slow
once I got to an incline. Sure enough as soon as I went up Palani things got
bad. Everything was tight and seizing again and I couldn’t find more Advil. I
managed to hit 13. 1 miles at 1:45 so I just kept hoping I could squeeze out a 3:30ish
run. Soon both feet went numb and my left high hammy locked up badly. I had no
choice but to slow down and change my goal to just being able to finish without
walking. It was pretty difficult because my running has been so solid and I knew
I was capable of a great run that day. It just sucks when things are out of
your control (especially when you are a control freak like me). Those last 11
miles I did a lot of soul searching and tried to focus on the things I was
gaining from this horrible day. I have never been on a course that late and
seen people walking, suffering, laying on the ground getting medical attention,
etc. It’s a whole different experience and one I had never known before. As I
ran out of the energy lab and down the Queen K for the last 6 miles, the sun
was setting over the ocean. I got a little emotional, as I have always prided
myself on finishing before it got dark. I was chasing that sun but it was
obvious I wasn’t going to win that battle either. I finally conceded and just took it all in.
At that moment I saw Elisa (she had run about 10 miles just to find me because
the tracking had stopped and she thought I was in trouble) she’s the best! She
told me everyone was worried about me and that I needed to get to that finish
line! I promised I would see here there in less than 15 minutes and with that I
was off onto the last 1.5 miles. Coming down that final turn to Ali’i Drive was
so much more special than it was in 2012. I had really struggled and although
my time was over 90 minutes slower than I had hoped, it was the most rewarding
finish of my racing career.
Ironman is always a tough day, and the conditions at Kona this
year were some of the worst. There were a lot of top athletes (pro and amateur)
who didn’t make it across the finish line Saturday. I am thankful I was able
finish another World Championship and on a year that saw the highest amount of
female athletes ever (up over 50% from 2013). Watch out guys, the girls are
coming for ya!
I also have to give a shout to those who helped me get to
the start line. As always, my coach Joanna Zeiger at Race Ready Coaching (http://racereadycoaching.com), Tribike Transport (http://www.tribiketransport.com),Triathlon Lab (http://www.triathlonlab.com), Ero Sports(http://www.ero-sports.com), Athlete
Octane (http://athleteoctane.com) and Original Nutritionals (http://www.originalnutritionals.com). And the one and only sherpa extraordinaire,
Elisa Hein, who said in 2008 when we raced IM AZ together that she would come
to Kona with me one day and she kept her promise!
Cheers to living to fight another day and avoiding that grey
twilight!
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