Race (Kind of?) Report: AIDS/LifeCycle 2017

These last few days have completely changed my life. In so many ways that I can't even begin to comprehend all of it.

As always, a wall of text is ahead. Hold onto your butts!


-----

FRIDAY. DAY (-1).

There is a TED talk about how people need to slow down a little more, and it talks about how there are different types of people: Pre-crastinators, and procrastinators. I'm very clearly a precrastinator. I think about things months in advance, and I anticipate problems before they even arise.

When it came down to ALC, I was worried 6 months prior that I wasn't going to finish. Training hadn't even started yet. 2 months before the ride started, I started packing. At first it was in small increments (picking up a few extra tubes while I shopped, an extra headlamp in case my first headlamp died) - I was so worried that I (obviously) overpacked, even months before the ride started!

Yep, I even used a packing list. It helped no one. 

Surprisingly enough, everything fit into my luggage, which LAX (namely Virgin America) promptly declared overweight and heavy.

I feel sorry for everyone who had to carry this. 

The flight to SF was short, and Bryan picked me up for a day filled with food and fun. I convinced him to eat 4 meals with me before dinner with Kelvin, and to let me get shaved prosciutto in a cone as dessert! I now know why I have to do endurance events - the calories catch up so fast!

-----

SATURDAY. DAY (0).

The day before the ride, they ask all the cyclists to go in for orientation. I snuck into the 9am session and got to sit with everyone on Team DTLA Riding.

The week prior, we had shipped our bikes up, so we got to check in on them, shop at the camp store (jerseys and hats and water bottles), and then we were off.

I used the rest of the day to spend quality time with my favorite (ok, only) brother. We had dim sum with Bryan, went to the Palace of Fine Arts, walked the Presidio, and then hung out at Fisherman's Wharf.

Yoda and I are besties now. 

Liz, my (AMAZING) tent mate, invited me to TeamOC's dinner, so we spent the evening getting warm and fuzzies with everyone she had been training with for the last few months. Marianne, one of the gals on the team, had us take a picture together but she was secretly recording us the whole time! It was both great and weird listening our candid thoughts.

In retrospect, we went into ALC so full of optimism that it made it such a well-rounded experience. I always tell myself that you only get to live the "first time" once. So true in this instance.

The first of many pictures with Liz! We took a picture every day of ALC. 

-----

SUNDAY. DAY (1). San Francisco to Santa Cruz

 Surprisingly, I slept well the night prior. I think knowing that it wasn't a race really changed things. I got up at 4, packed, and Bryan dropped me off at Cow Palace at the ass-crack of dawn (you're the best!).

It was cold and I started to worry that I didn't pack enough (even though my luggage was bursting at the seams at this point). But I saw tons of familiar faces and I was eager to start the journey.

Mitchel & Jacob <3

Liz!

The Opening Ceremonies kicks us off, with a solemn reminder of why we do the ride: to bring awareness to those who are suffering from and who have lost the battle with HIV and AIDs. It's a long-term stretch goal to End AIDS altogether, but everything that we do brings us a little closer.

Immediately after the ceremonies, we head to our bikes and ride off into the night! (still morning, definitely not night.)

Roughly 2,500 people all trying to leave the same place at once. 

The course was beautiful. 82 miles of scenic oceans and greenery. Every 10 - 20 miles there were rest stops (as was the trend across all of the rides), which made for great entertainment!

They sang "Kiss" and passed out cookies with Hershey's Kisses in them. I can't even. 

The humor on these stalls kept me laughing for days. These ones were named after GoT houses.

We rolled into camp around 3:40 on Day 1, and I was hooked. Everything about the ride - the people, the views, everything. Even setting up the tent was a great experience!

Day 1, done.





------

MONDAY. DAY (2). Santa Cruz to King City

Day 2 was scheduled to be the longest day at 109 miles. Also known as Orange Safety Day, everyone is encouraged to wear some sort of orange because of the need to be highly visible (as if 2500 people on bikes wasn't visible enough! :] ) due to traffic, etc.

The day was a blur full of climbs, the Otter Pop Stop!, and a skinny dipping bridge.

He asked me to call him Big Orange. 

By the time we rolled into camp, I was drained. Anything over 100 miles takes a toll on the body, and a constant barrage of heat doesn't help either. Needless to say, the night of Day 2 was a very quiet one for me!

Day 2, done.


-----

TUESDAY. DAY (3). King City to Paso Robles

By Day 3, I'm still feeling awesome. Day 3 is known as Quadbuster Day - We climb a massive hill that never ends, but when it does, it's this amazing feeling of accomplishment you're overcome with.

Mark and I start the day with a video while we're prepping by our bikes -

It's a private video so I can't share it outisde of Facebook - but you can find it online!

I'm so excited! Mainly because I don't know what I'm in for. Jacob and I spend a majority of the morning riding with one another - we get to the top of Quadbuster and cruise down to the City of Bradley, where the kids of the school put on a fundraiser every year to raise money for their extracurriculars. Last year, they raised $40,000 because of us. How insane is that? I wonder what they raised this year...

Day 3 also took us through a military base, Mission San Miguel (so beautiful! and original architecture from 1797!), and a Disney-inspired rest stop complete with characters! I spent much of this time trying to keep up with Martin, who pushed me to try harder and to pedal faster.

I'm drained, but there are rumors of a root beer float stand at camp, and I'm jazzed again. I love anything with ice cream in it!

Since we got back to camp so early, I wandered on over to the medical tent to see what they had to offer. Sunburnt and sad that the line was an hour long, I did a face mask while waiting for an acupuncture session (yes, they offer it at camp!).

She also put needles in my legs but by this point I can't feel anything. 

Day 3, done.



-----

WEDNESDAY. DAY (4). Paso Robles to Santa Maria

Day 4. I'm starting to feel the fatigue in my legs and in my sit bone.

I failed to mention this before, but the "roadies" on the ride are the best part about the ride. They are the backbone of the ride as a whole and handle all the things we can't do ourselves. The roadies that took my luggage from me in the morning were the best: Becca, Kaytee, and Cheryl made me smile every morning and made me hate life a little less at night.

To top it off, their costumes every morning constantly changed!

The other truck always coordinated with our truck, so the boys got in on the fun too :) 

Day 4 was the halfway point! There were 2 massive hills called the Evil Twins that you had to conquer before getting to the halfway point at mile 17.

True to form, a jumping picture is always in the cards.

I was so eager to get to halfway. It was a dream come true to know that I had cycled (at that point) more miles consecutively than I had ever done in my life. Halfway to LA meant that I was equally as far from the beginning as I was from the end, and the symbolism in that was enormous.

Martin and I waited for the rest of the group to come up so we could get a quick picture. After being inland for so long, we finally made our way back to the ocean, and with that, the sweet, sweet taste of...

Cinnamon rolls. Those things were like crack. Coupled with an ice-cold coke and was done for.

After 88 miles, we rolled into camp, and Day 4 came to a close. But! During dinner time, Jared texted me this video and my heart swelled to 3 times its normal size:

Some of the team recorded a short clip reminding us that we only had 3 days left. I could feel the love from nearly 300 miles away.

Day 4, done.


-----

THURSDAY. DAY (5). Santa Maria to Lompoc

Day 5 is historically known as the shortest day, but for some reason this was my most (and least) favorite day, all rolled into one. Most favorite because it happened to be Red Dress Day: red is the color of solidarity for those who are affected by HIV and AIDS, and seeing everyone in their colors was amazing. Least favorite because my body was starting to give on me. Looking back, we spent roughly 40 hours on our bike through the course of the week. That's like a whole week of work... on a bike! Factor in the whole "Winnie doesn't wear bike shorts" thing (tri shorts for the win?) and you've got a very sore Winnie by Day 5.

My Lemon ladies!

The Minnie Band

The tutu crew.

Martin's mom is literally the cutest thing. She came with bells and whistles to cheer us on!

The course was short and sweet. I loved that we had so much time at camp to actually enjoy it! We all sat on the grass, ate, rolled out, and eventually Patrick and I did face masks as we waited for the Talent Show to start.

Day 5, done.



-----


FRIDAY. DAY (6). Lompoc to Ventura

Day 6. I'm excited. only 2 rides separate me from Los Angeles. I can't wait!

By now I'm totally immersed in this love bubble. When we first started the journey, I couldn't understand why everyone called it the love bubble. And then it dawned on me - every day, we were living in this world that we had created for ourselves. The one that motivated us to wake up at 4:30 every morning, dragged us out to our bikes, and schlepped us over from point A to point B. I was constantly surrounded by love. The nicest people I've ever met - who would tell me that my hair looked good, or that I had enviable calves - were also the people who pushed me to be a better me and allowed me to live in my own thoughts for the day. It was this serendipitous blend of being able to be alone but surrounded by others. Definitely a great feeling. 

On this ride, we got to coast through Santa Barbara. The coolest part was the fact that the city of Santa Barbara sponsored an unofficial rest stop called Paradise Pit - complete with fresh fruit, ice cream (!!!) from McConnells (!!!), and a toppings bar! The mayor of SB even came out to thank us.

Livin' the ice cream dream. 

Day 6 was also the last night we'd be camping. We ended up at the San Buenaventura State Beach, where the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence graced us with their presence and held a candlelight vigil to remember those who have lost the light because of HIV and AIDS. A very somber experience, but eerily beautiful.

Day 6, Done.


-----

SATURDAY. DAY (7). Ventura to Los Angeles!


Day 7 was a glass case of emotions. I was so excited to be in familiar territory again. The team felt the same way, because Brandon called me in the morning to tell me I was late and everyone was waiting on me to leave! I had to rush to roll out with everyone, and I was afraid that I had left something behind.

Do you think we have a strong cellular signal?

But finally, a day where I knew where I was going. Ventura, Oxnard, Pt Hueneme, Santa Monica, West Hollywood! What a blur.

Brandon and I rode a majority of the route together, trying to meet up with the rest of the team in West Hollywood before riding in together at the finish line at Fairfax High School. It was ethereal.

I texted Joyce to let her know I was a mile out, and my excitement mounted.

As we started to hit the stoplights, familiar faces popped up! Katy was the first person I saw that I KNEW! I was so surprised and so happy she was there.

I saw Alice, Robert, and Jared as we were rolling in - more excitement!

And as we inched closer and closer to the finish line, I was so surprised to see SO MANY people who had come just for me: Patrick, Lisa, Letty, Stef, Kathryn, Zulema, George, Chelsie, Steve, Donyelle, Albert, Jaime, Joyce, and Phil!

A part of me died crossing over that finish line. Letting go of everything that had built up inside of me and coming to terms with this overabundance of love. I couldn't handle it. Tears streamed down my face. We did it!

Team DTLA Riding!

I cried in Chelsie's arms for a good 5 minutes. I was so happy to be back and so happy to share this special moment with the BEST people in my life.

I couldn't have asked for better friends. Sometimes life deals you a bad set of cards, but all my cards played out correctly.

One of my favorite people in this world. I couldn't have done this ride without you, Patrick!

So much to come home to: 7 bouquets of flowers (and sunflowers, to boot!), 3 king sized Snickers bars, desserts, Tamales!!!, and 30 bags of hot cheetos from my brother in San Francisco because he knew how much I love them. Not to mention the 4 pizzas and the cookies and ice cream we enjoyed poolside later in the day!

Day 7, Done.



------

SUNDAY. No more days. Just Thoughts.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention any of the bad things about the ride - the idea of showering in a truck, having to use antibacterial wipes and germ-x in place of a sink with soap, sunburns in places you didn't know could burn, and soreness and pain in places you wish wouldn't hurt.

But those were so menial in the grand scheme of things. Until last week, I was never able to put my life on pause. I've always been a GO GO GO kind of person. Some say that intensity gets me in trouble (I'll agree to a certain extent) and others say that it's my best quality.

7 Days.
545+ miles.
21,000+ elevation climb. (Mt Everest is 29k feet!)
14,000+ calories burned.
A lifetime of memories.

Thank you to the loving friends who wrote me numbered notes to read EVERY DAY of the ride. I had so many I had to spend the last night reading most of them because I couldn't get to them all each night.

Thanks for FaceTiming me every day to ask me where I was and how I was doing and for following me on my journey. 

Thanks especially to all of my donors for getting me to the starting line in the first place: Derrick, Abel, Nelson, Lynn, Angela, Diane, Stephane, Rob, Nick, Hymie, Jim, Alisa, Steven, Kathryn, Bernie, Sam, Elisa, Alison, David, Leon, John, Susan, Christy, Diane, Bree, Howard, Carol, Sean, Steven, Anna, Jehanne, Dennis, Robert, other Robert, and James!

Additional thanks are in store for my friends who were willing to donate on my behalf to Jesus so he could get his ticket to ride: Alice, Diego, Jared, Joyce, Letty, Mark, Patrick, Rich, Sevana, Stef, and Zulema! 

Thanks should also go to the Walt Disney Company for matching many of the donations from my co-workers, and to Chipotle for hosting a fundraiser that donated 50% of proceeds to ALC!

If my heart could get any bigger, it definitely did these last few days. What a life-changing experience. I can't wait to do it again next year.

ALC Finish Line Festival

I fly up tomorrow, but please join me at the Finish Line Festival on June 10th!

Details here:

https://www.facebook.com/events/260113814396742/

AIDS/LifeCycle 2017 - Preparing for Take-Off

Last June, I drove to Ventura for a candlelight vigil that would ultimately create a domino effect on my life. Surrounded by 2,000 other people, we held a moment of silence for those who lost the fight with HIV and AIDS and reflected on those who were still suffering. 

The next day, Abel, Nelson, and I went to the AIDS/Lifecycle Finish Line Festival to cheer on some of our friends who were finishing a massive feat: 545 miles cycling down the coast of California. While we were there, I impulsively signed up for the 2017 ride, thinking that it would be a great way to follow up another bucket list item: my Ironman. 

Fast forward 12 months, and here we are!

As we wind down the month of May, I can't stop thinking about the ride itself and what it means to me. I remember training so hard for my Ironman race - so much so that I burnt myself out and stopped training for nearly 6 months. I lacked the motivation to want to work out, let alone get on the bike. 

But as the weeks neared, the bike rides increased, and I slowly found my love for cycling again. I was doing 100-mile bike rides on the weekend, and I found solace in the silence of being alone while being with others. It was a lot of soul searching. 

5 more days. 5 more days until we set off on a journey from San Francisco to Los Angeles. 5 more days until I learn what it's like to experience wild temperatures, live out of a bag for 7 days, and 5 more days until I make 2,000 new friends!

I'm scared and nervous and excited. Mostly excited. I'm excited to learn more about myself, but more excited to learn about others - trials, tribulations, and motivations.  

Dropping off our bikes to be shipped to SF!

Everyone rides for a reason. My reason has definitely changed since I signed up, but I truly and honestly believe that everything happens for a reason - whether it be induced (cause and effect) or serendipitous (who knows!).  

It wouldn't be right of me to end this without a fundraising push. Thank you to everyone who got me over the $5,000 mark, and to all my friends who donated to others on my behalf! Every dollar counts :) Donate here - http://www.tofighthiv.org/goto/winja

Support Winnie's 545 Mile RIde from SF to LA at Chipotle Burbank!

Wednesday, March 29

Chipotle Burbank

4012 W. Riverside Drive

** PRINT AND BRING THE FLYER WITH YOU OR SHOW THE PICTURE ON YOUR PHONE!! **

See you then! 

Race Report: winja's Pasadena Inaugural Half Marathon (01.22.2017)

Guys. Post-Ironman life is awesome. Mostly awesome because I can sleep in. I have so much more time now - to think about things, to focus on things, to be someone else versus just a zombie who works and works out nonstop.

I went through a little bout of depression after the Ironman race. It's a real thing that people say actually happens! Similar to PTSD but mainly because of the vast void that comes into your life after a big event.

To be honest, I haven't worked out much. I've been on a handful of runs - nothing more than 3 miles - and I've been trying to stay off my feet so that the plantar fasciitis in my heel can heal. (side note: it hasn't healed)

I've biked a few times, but nothing like what I used to do with Patrick. My legs have thanked me for the break I've given them.

---

Fast forward to last Sunday: I was

- absolutely out of shape
- not ready for a race
- not ready for THIS race in particular


Patrick and I had a few conversations before this: we were going to go party pace, we were going to have fun, and most importantly, we were going to see each other! It felt like it had been a while since we had seen one another (I miss my training buddy sometimes.)

--

On Saturday night, Boyface and I celebrated my birthday a little early with my sister and Phil at Arroyo Chop House. Steak is fantastic, but when you have it Friday Night (At Alexander's Steakhouse, yum!) and Saturday night, a race on Sunday doesn't sound so appealing. We leave full and happy, and get to bed early so that I can be ready for the race the next morning.

With a start time of 7am, boyface and I leave at 6 from my place (I'm about 2 miles away from the start line). The instructions on the website tell you to take the freeway and exit via a specific exit because of street closures. Normally I don't take the freeway to get to the Rose Bowl, but if that's what the directions say, that's what I should do, right?

Wrong. We got onto the freeway and are IMMEDIATELY met with traffic. So much traffic that we move 6 blocks in 30 minutes. By now, Patrick has beat me to the Rose Bowl, parked, and is looking for a place for us to get situated. I'm still 1.5 miles away from the bowl, mildly freaking out in Jesus's car.

I see people getting out of their cars and RUNNING toward the the Rose Bowl. A handful of them pass, and Jesus looks at me like I'd better get out there and run myself.

It's raining still at this point. I begrudgingly open the door, give him a kiss, and add those extra 1.5 miles to my run for the day.

The good news is that I met another person running to the  bowl too and ran with her the rest of the way. AND! I got to run on the freeway. That was cool.
--

I make it there at 6:58am. As I'm running in, the announcer says that the race has been postponed for about 20 minutes to account for the seemingly endless line of cars waiting to get into the parking lot. I find Patrick and we pump ourselves up! We're in line with the 2:30 crowd because we both know that while we were capable of hitting a sub-2 half marathon 2 months ago, we're pushing it if we try to hit the 2:30 even now.

The race starts and we run out of the Rose Bowl. We go up what they call the California incline, and it's hills galore! They don't seem so bad. The rain goes away for a little bit, and then it comes on pretty heavily. I'm glad we've got hats on - they're the only thing keeping the rain out of our faces. Patrick's wearing pants, but I make the mistake of wearing my running skirt. I can't feel my legs and my hands are going numb. But P and I cruise along, catching up and just having a great time in general.

We got to run over the suicide bridge, down Colorado Blvd, and the last 3 miles were around the Rose Bowl (probably should have put that in the beginning on the race versus the end. Not very scenic.) - Patrick promises that he won't run ahead of me this time, and he kept his promise!

As we cross the finish line, we run straight for those aluminum blankets that they pass out to people who are freezing. It's cold as F*** and pouring rain. We grab beer from Ballast Point, but the rain is so intolerable that we just leave. I'm sorry I wasted good beer.

My shoes are wet, my body is soaked. The rain jacket I have on is ineffective (probably because it's not meant for playing in the rain). My plan was to walk home after the race, but I ask Patrick for a ride and he takes me home.

Beautiful medal, great race course, but not meant for the rain. I think in retrospect they probably should have rescheduled the race...


Overall, very fun. I'd do it again, but probably only with proper training. And if I can convince Patrick to run it with me.

Patrick's Ironman Arizona Race Report (November 20, 2016)

How do you capture “your first time?”  How do you remember it all, much less put it into words? Well here goes - and it's long (which is why, in part, it's taken me more than a month to write it).

Pre-race

Packing for a race that’s out of town is nothing new – “just bring it all,” obviously - but it always makes me anxious. What if I somehow forget that *one* critical thing?! Well that’s why we have race checklists silly, but still.

I spent most of the week before the race planning and double planning. I had todo lists for each night and the race - and even for each transition! – starting Tuesday night.  I wasn’t leaving anything to chance. If I forgot something during the race – like sunblock before the bike like in Arizona 70.3 – it could make for a loooooong day.  Packing lists, shopping lists, even things to do each day before gear drop off. I was going to be ready.

Just some examples. I'd put them all, but it'd be 10+ links.

• Friday checklist here
• Saturday checklist here

We left LA Friday morning and got into Tempe mid-afternoon. Checked in to the race and the hotel. Unpacked and starting going through my checklists. I felt surprisingly calm given what I was about to undertake.

Saturday morning, I got up and went over my "Saturday before drop off" list and headed over to the park. Winnie and I were supposed to do the practice swim, but I didn't want to get my wetsuit wet the day before the race (maybe it wouldn't dry in time, maybe it'd be cold when I put it on, blah blah blah) and when Winnie and I met up, she told me we'd have to do at least a 700. I wasn't feeling that either, and opted not to get in the water. Obviously I can swim a 700 but I was really nervous about keeping every bit of exercise in me for the next day. Besides, we just swam in the lake a month ago and it was super warm. How different could it be?? (here's where I pull you aside and say "<-- pay attention to that part")

We dropped off our bikes and dropped off our gear - leaving my stuff always freaks me out (see above about "what if I forget something") - and I did a couple practice runs going from transition to the two bag areas so I knew where my bags would be located.  Then we met up with Steve and Glendale - our unofficial IMAZ mentors - got some pictures, last minute advice, and then headed off for food. It's weird prepping for a race like this having never done it because you question every single thing you are putting in your body. I usually eat anything, and a lot of it, but I was hyper focused on "plain rice, chicken, maybe sweet potatoes." Boring AF but safe.

Then I went back to the hotel and went over my remaining Saturday and pre-race checklists and just tried to kill time. Waiting is sometimes the hardest part. Well, if you aren't counting the 2.4 mile swim, the 112 mile bike, and then the marathon, then waiting is the hardest part.

Race Day
Sunday morning I got up at 3:30. I hadn't slept well - who does? - and started going over my pre-race checklist. I had added "at the bag" items to the checklists so I'd remember everything I'd need to add to each bag when I got to the park.  I woke Latisha up and we were on our way.

I walked over to the transition area with Winnie and upon seeing everyone there, I got honestly excited; I wasn't nervous. VERY weird for a race. I just had this feeling of 'I can do this. It won't be fast, but I can do this."  I went through my checklists - really, these things were a life saver for my sanity - and met up with Winnie, Latisha, Alice, Jesus, Joyce, and Veronica for some last minute goodbyes and good lucks. We bumped into Mike Pajaro and Laura Kern who also wished us luck and then Winnie and I started the long walk to the swim start.

Inspirational temporary tattoo

I left Winnie at the 1:30 corral and moved to the 1:20 corral, just trying to stay calm and relaxed. People on the whole were very conversational and friendly. It eased the tension a bit. Then the gun went off for the pro males, then, pro females, and then we started our slow walk to the bleacher entry to the water.

I was actually in really good spirits at this point.

Swim
I start my watch and jump in. HOLY FUCK STICKS THE WATER IS FREEZING. WHY DID I WEAR A SLEEVELESS WETSUIT?! ok ok, calm down. It's just cold. you're fine. BUT IT'S REALLY COLD. you'll be ok, and you've got an hour plus in here, so deal with it. calm down. OK. OK. oh neat, my wetsuit has an air bubble in the chest. It's super floaty. It's like I'm swimming with a buoy. Hey self? yes. I gotta pee. ok, so pee. But I'll have to stop swimming.  Will you? Try keeping your arms moving, but relax everything else. ok ok. I'm doing it!! I'm doing it!! I can pee and swim at the same time! yes, congratulations, you're able to piss yourself.

That happened a couple more times over the course of the time I was in the water. The swim was relatively uneventful other than the two or three times I had to swim over people that I didn't realize were right in front of me (because their caps were black instead of the bright green or pink and they had seeded themselves too aggressively) but mainly I spent the time focused on remaining calm and relaxed.

I came to the bleachers, a volunteer pulled me out of the water, I hit my lap button (an hour 10?! I went too fast. Oh shit) and then looked for someone to peel my wetsuit. You can see in my pictures I was pretty confused by this whole process.

Which way do I go? This way? Body says that way. But head says a different way.

I jogged through transition (seeing Mike and Laura cheering for me as I went - very cool), got my bike bag, and went into the changing tent. I spent a chunk of the time just trying to warm up, calm down, and not forget anything. Thankfully I had my checklist in my bike bag. :) Checked everything off, got my bike, got to the mount line and got underway.

Bike
I spent a good chunk of the first half hour on the bike telling myself to calm down and back off. This had been Steve Kern's advice to me - "no matter how easy you think you're going on the bike, back off a bit." I knew I was just aiming for completing it, so I wasn't too concerned that everyone in the entire race was passing me. I also had to pee, and being very excited about my new peeing-while-moving accomplishment from the swim, tried to do the same on the bike. Well, moving your arms and relaxing your pee muscles is WAY easier than moving your legs and relaxing your pee muscles. Wasn't going to happen (and good, because peeing yourself out of the water and on your bike is just gross.) so I pulled into an aid station, pit stopped, and was back on my way.  I say all this because "low and slow" was my mantra for the day. "Do whatever you need to to be comfortable" which meant stopping if I had to, eating if I had to, walking if I had to, etc etc. Thankfully this also helped minimize the actual need to do any of that. I spent the first loop mainly taking it all in. A woman right before the swim had told me the Beeline on the bike was an 11 mile ride out, and that actually helped me during the race estimate how far I had to go each leg.

Towards the end of the first loop, I was getting a little concerned because I hadn't seen Winnie at all. Was she ok? Did she get hurt? She isn't slow, so I definitely should have seen her after the turnaround. Nothing I can do about it, but I hope she's ok.

After the first loop I hear and see Mike a Laura cheering for me again. They were so great throughout the day. I start back out, thinking "that wasn't so bad. 37 miles? I can totally do that 2 more times."

37 miles down, only *sigh* 75 to go.

Five minutes after the halfway point of the second loop, Winnie calls out going the other direction. Whew, she's ok and if I'm five minutes after the turn around, that means she's only 5 minutes before the turn around, that puts her only about 10 minutes behind me. Whew.

I stop at special needs, applied more chamois cream (my ass started hurting about 15 miles in. I still had a looooong way to go with a hurt ass), ate a bar, and resumed the ride.

At the end of the second loop, I see Mike and Laura again (yay!) and I start back out thinking "oh my god. Another 37 miles?"   

By this point, the crowd on road had started to thin, even more so by the time I got halfway through the third loop.  Then I started to get a little bummed. "Everyone else is done" kept creeping into my thoughts. I had been averaging 16mph, which is really slow for me, but had stayed there so I had something for the run.  I thought, "I have 18 miles to go, at 16mph, eff me that means I have another hour and probably 10 minutes on the bike." *sigh*

Bored bored bored

I finally pull into the finish area, seven hours after starting the bike. Easily the longest I've ever been on a continuous ride. I jog through transition, see Latisha and give her a kiss, and go into the changing tent. Again, going through my checklist and a guy comments "you got a checklist in there? That's a great idea!"

I wrote in some inspiration after printing this.

Well yeah bud, that's why I did it. I put my running stuff on and head out.

Run
If you've read my posts before, I lament the run. I die out about a half mile in and just have a terrible time. I think part of that is I start out running a good pace, look at my watch and get nervous I'm going too fast, so I back off, which in turn kills my momentum.  This time, I wasn't going to let that happen.

I started on the run "just going for a jog." I didn't let myself look at my watch, I just ran as comfortably as possible. Not slow, not fast, just comfortable. This was key. AND HOLY SHIT I FEEL GREAT! I mean, I'm tired, sure, but nowhere near as tired and run down as I have been in the half IMs I've done.

I get through the first mile and I start walking to read my first card. *pause* Given all the trouble the run has given me in the past, I asked people to write me inspiring or funny things so I could read them on the run. Latisha - bless her - collected them all and laminated them so they would survive the sweat and water I will inevitably dump over my head. All in all I had ~30 so I figured I'd read one every mile or if I needed additional inspiration.

Soooo many great motivators!

*unpause* The first one was from my parents.  It said "Go Patrick Go!! Imagine you are wearing your yellow cape - you are like the wind! You are fulfilling your childhood dream -- you ARE a super hero! Love you." *pause* when I was a kid, about 4 or 5, I ran around my house all the time in this threadbare, ratty yellow blanket pretending I was a superhero. My mom says I called myself "underwear man" but I dispute that. *unpause* So now I'm in the middle of my Ironman and start tearing up. Nope nope nope! Let's start running again! So off I ran, feeling great albeit choked up.

Early in the race (because it's still daylight)

Repeat this for about 25 more miles.  Actually, let's pause around mile 6. I was feeling super unwell. My stomach, I mean. Thinking I would need to stretch my custom hydration out until I got to my run special needs bag, I made my hydration super concentrated. Even though this has worked fine in training, I hadn't spent so much time relying on it (i.e., during a 7 hour bike ride and an hour-plus run) and at this point, my stomach was super queasy. So I stopped and tried to ... take a break, but to no avail. TMI ahead... you've been warned... turn back... basically I just farted a bunch - like A LOT - but felt WAY better. I tell you this, dear reader, because not only was Nov. 20th my first Ironman, it was also my first time trying to poop (albeit unsuccessfully) in a port-a-john. So now we've shared that.

Back to the story. I get back on my way and things are pretty good (other than my previous stomach troubles). Run to an aid station, walk it, read a note, repeat. Around mile 10, I ran into Steve Kern as he was walking up the lone big hill on the course.  It was his second loop of the run, so he only had ~5k more to go, but he walked with me nonetheless for a bit. After about 4 or so minutes of chit chat, he headed off the finish, and I picked up my pace a little bit and kept going. I started my second loop and realized, "oh wow, this is literally the furthest I've ever run" (I'd only ever done a half marathon before this), which was in and of itself, kinda cool because I still felt great and generally positive.  Speaking of "feeling great," throughout the rest of the run, Mike would periodically appear and check in, asking me how I felt. My response was always "great" but secretly it was always "better" when I saw him and the gang cheering. That said, the rest of the run was what you'd expect a marathon to be - a lot of steady, uneventful running.  

As I approached the finish chute, I told myself "enjoy this, you've earned it."  I tried to give the person in front of me space so they could have their moment in the spotlight to themselves, and make sure no one was behind me so I could have mine, but as we turn the corner to actually go in the chute, the guy in front of me broke off to talk to some people. I couldn't - I wouldn't - stop, so I jogged past him. Picking up the pace was actually a bad thing. Because upon picking up the pace, and seeing the lights, and hearing the crowd, and seeing hands out for high fives, and OH MY GOD I'VE DONE IT, I started running. I couldn't help it. I just ran 26.2 miles? You wouldn't know it because my legs felt FANTASTIC. I HAVE ALL THE ENERGY IN THE WORLD. And then I hear Alice and Latisha and Mike yelling my name and I see them and speed up even more. I can't help it! Everyone's there cheering FOR ME.  And then Mike Reilly says "Patrick Myers of Los Angeles! Come on home Pat, you did it buddy!" and DAMN IT, I *DID* DO IT. And I start tearing up. I'm totally going to ugly cry and they're going to take my picture of my stupid ugly cry face and that's going to be my Ironman picture for forever.

Ugly cry face

Well, it happened. And they did. And that's my face. But I almost don't care because holy shit, I'm an Ironman.

There's more to write - about how Latisha met me after and swapped out my gross hat with my Ironman hat that I bought at Vineman 70.3 but wouldn't wear until I finished the full because I thought I'd jinx it, and how Winnie finished about 15 minutes later and we ate a lot and got massages from volunteers and how all our support people (Latisha, Alice, Joyce, Veronica, Jesus, Mike, and Laura) were just amazing and patient and waited for us while it was drizzling, and how Latisha had already gotten my bike and all my bags and had taken them back to the hotel so I wouldn't have to worry about anything after the race, but honestly, I will never finish this if I keep adding so we'll end here. This was my story.

I'll close with this: After Arizona 70.3, I was done for the season; I didn't want to be an Ironman. I was burned out and had had a miserable race. But the full? Well, I had such an incredible experience, supported by so many amazing people (especially my I-can't-say-it-enough amazing wife), I would absolutely do this again.  But Winnie would have to do it too. One team, one dream!