So much bigger than me

Yes, I’m back. I had good intentions of writing several posts leading up to Ironman Maryland but yea, you see how well that worked out. Little thing called life got in the way of that and although writing is therapeutic for me, I needed to let a few things go as I did my preparations for the race.

So here we sit, 6 days post Ironman and I still haven’t really processed what happened on Saturday. The short version is it was an amazing day, but not for the reasons you’d think.

I’ll back up a bit and although I won’t go through all of the nitty gritty details, hopefully my recap will paint a picture of what Ironman #4 really meant to me.

Pull up a chair…it’s a long one! 

We arrived in Maryland the Wednesday before the race – which is a Saturday race and I love that. We drove through my old stomping grounds in Maryland, not far from where I spent a lot of time in my first 10 years of life. Even though Rob gives me a hard time, I still say I’m “from” Maryland even though I’ve lived 32 years of my life in Michigan. Yea, yea. Semantics. I still love it there.

Anyway, Cambridge is a cute historic town on the Eastern Shore and I loved it right away. We decided to splurge and stayed at the Hyatt resort right on the Choptank River and it was absolutely worth it. It was the “hub” of all things Ironman for the weekend and only a few miles from all the race activities. We did all the pre-race check-ins, spent our money on all the things at the Ironman store, did a quick bike ride on part of the course (yep, it’s as flat as advertised!) and enjoyed seafood and beers at local spots in Cambridge. What an awesome first day. My nerves hadn’t set in at all, but Rob’s certainly had.

Thursday and Friday were spent doing more race briefings, getting my hair braided, arranging all of our stuff, visiting some of the local stores who are so supportive of this event and all of us crazy triathletes, doing a practice swim in the Choptank River (which was a little salty but not too bad, and no jellyfish they had warned us about!) and attending the kick-off event which made me cry more times than I could count. Seriously – so many inspiring stories and I just love listening to Mike Reilly talk.

With the Voice of Ironman himself, Mike Reilly at our Women for Tri meet-up

My amazing teammate Moira – who is the epitome of strength and courage! 

After our bikes and bags were safely checked in on Friday morning, there was nothing left to do but rest our legs, eat some pasta and try to get some rest. Easier said than done knowing what lies ahead of us a few hours later.

So now to the good stuff: Race day.

With no less than 4 alarms set, I still woke up BEFORE they all went off. So dumb. But we were up and ready and out the door by 4:45am on our way to transition. The morning was stunning – perfect temperatures, no wind (this would come back to haunt us later!) and no clouds led to an amazing sunrise over the river. We got to transition, got ourselves situated, made sure everything was ship shape. The only complaint I had was there were not enough potties! We luckily got in line early enough – had we not, we would have been super far back getting into the water!

Rob and I got our wetsuits situated and we said our goodbyes and I told him I would see him out on course. I opted to go a bit further in front for the self-seeded swim and went with the 1 hour – 1:10 group, Rob opted for the 1:15 group, so we were on our own at the start.

The wave of emotion hit me like a ton of bricks as I was standing there waiting for the cannon to go off (which scared the crap out of me, by the way!). I cried, I took deep breaths and just tried to visualize my day as Matt always tells me to do. Of course I was scared and nervous, and honestly I was anxious for Rob. I know he was going to be fine but there’s always a weird feeling of unknown that creeps in my head. It usually takes over until I’m about 100 yards into the swim and then it all washes away.

And it did just that on Saturday. I was calm and started swimming and felt amazing. I got into my rhythm quickly and had no issues. An occasional big dude would swim almost on top of me because they’re awful at sighting, but I could see them coming so I was able to avoid most of their wrath and escape unscathed. I was so proud I never had to break my stroke the entire 2.4 miles (which turned out to be about 300 meters long due to a variety of reasons).

Before I knew it, I was rounding the last buoy heading for home. I could see the swim exit inflatable and I was almost bummed out the swim was over. I felt so good, better than I’ve felt in any Ironman swim. I was not fatigued at all, nor was I dizzy which sometimes is an issue for me getting out. The volunteers helped me out, I took my time, smiled for the cameras, got my wet suit stripped off me, walked through the awesome crowds, thanking everyone for their comments about my swim. I honestly was enjoying every moment. I didn’t turn my watch on so I had no idea what my time was, but I knew I did well. However since the course was long, my time was slower than I had hoped. I still was pleased and was 6th in my age group out of the water and 130th or something overall. Not too shabby considering it’s majority dudes.

Once I got my bike bag, I headed into the changing tent and took my time to dry off, put on my Coeur team aero top and all my gear. I had a great volunteer who helped me and I gave her a gift card as a thank you – she was so surprised to receive it. It’s the least I can do for all these people do all day for us.

I walked/jogged from the tent to my bike, again thanking the volunteers and the crowd cheering us on. I made the long trek to my bike and off I went. I made sure to ease into a pace and not really look at anything on my watch other than my heart rate. The course was beautiful, and took us through a wildlife preserve and as advertised, very flat. Which you’d think would be awesome compared to the crazy mountains I had at Lake Placid and Mont Tremblant. However, it poses a whole different challenge: never being able to stop pedaling! Literally. If you didn’t pedal, you didn’t move!

So I settled into a pace that I felt I could maintain without being too taxed. I got words of encouragement along the way from fellow competitors, as they passed by me like I was standing still. But that’s ok – it didn’t bother me and I kept smiling and biking along.

About 55 miles in, I ran across a man on the side of the road with a flat tire. I stopped to ask if he was ok and he said it was his 2nd flat of the day and he didn’t have enough CO2 and was concerned about the tube. I had both in my bike bag and knew I had more in my special needs bag which was less than 10 miles up the road, so I offered it to him and he politely took them and said thank you for helping him. (side note: he passed by me on the back half of the bike so hopefully he didn’t have any more issues!)

A few miles later, Rob came up on my left and said it had taken forever to catch me – well, that’s because I had a bit of a head start from the swim. I knew he would catch me, I just didn’t know where or when. We chatted for a bit, I made sure he was doing ok and he went ahead maintaining his race and I maintained mine. I was glad to see him and know he was ok.

I then was pleasantly surprised to see one of my closest friends, Heather, and her son Gavin waiting just before our special needs area, with their awesome signs cheering us on. She surprised us a few days earlier saying she was driving down from Virginia to be there – and I can’t thank her enough. I slowed down but didn’t stop that time around because she kind of took me by surprise and I didn’t want to crash or have someone crash into me by stopping too quickly! I knew I’d see her again.

As I pulled into the special needs area, the crowds were great and the volunteers were so helpful. I got my bag and refilled my nutrition and water bottles. While I was stopped, I heard a woman behind me frantically asking for her bag, which they couldn’t find. She was incredibly upset and saying it was all of her nutrition for the 2nd half of the bike and she wasn’t sure how she was going to get through without it. I looked in my bag again and realized I had enough of my Inifit powder nutrition for about a 500 mile bike ride (no idea why I mis-calculated so much but hey – maybe this was the reason…). So I turned and offered it to her. I explained what it was and said I wasn’t sure if she’d be ok with it but she is more than welcome to have it. She thanked me and the volunteers helped her mix it into her bottles and she was on her way. She was very appreciative and the volunteers said it was very generous of me and that it would mean good karma should come my way. I sort of shrugged it off, but I kept it in the back of my head.

The 2nd loop of the bike was a repeat of the 1st but throw in about 15-20mph winds for good measure. Holy bananas – after about mile 75, it was absolutely brutal in spots. It felt like it was relentless and just started to take a toll on me. My speeds dropped and I was pushing harder to maintain but keep my heart rate from spiking. My feet started to go numb, my back was hurting, my eyes hurt behind my glasses from the wind… it was a struggle. But as I inched closer to town, I knew it was almost over.

I pulled into transition and was so happy to get off my bike. I again took my time getting everything set, back into the changing tent to put on my Coeur tank top, thanked my other amazing volunteer with her gift card and off I went. I exited transition with a younger girl and we both agreed we’d rather be doing about eleventy billion other things than running a marathon!

But off I went, thanking the crowds and and again watching my heart rate. I tried not to look at my pace but would occasionally take a peek and was pleasantly surprised at my pace while still keeping my heart rate in check. I haven’t felt that good at the start of an Ironman run – ever. I walked through the aid stations, slowed or walked when I needed to and just took in the scenery. The run was a 2.5 loop course, flat and through town which was great – but it was hot. Definitely a bit warmer than expected so I adjusted with ice, water and Gatorade at every aid station.

Around mile 5 I saw Rob at this weird out-and-back turn around thing. He was about 1.5 mile ahead of me at the time but told me he was struggling, his legs, back and stomach were bothering him. I told him to keep walking and catch his breath and relax.

I caught up with him around mile 7 and we walked together. I knew he was in a dark place and it broke my heart to see him like this. We talked through a plan, how he was going to overcome the challenges he was facing to get through the next 19 miles. We tried to jog a bit but his body was having none of it. He knew he was facing a long haul and his body was just revolting against him.

We saw Moira, Heather and Gavin who all gave us words of encouragement and much-needed hugs. It’s amazing what a boost familiar faces can be when you’re struggling.

We were together through mile 10-ish before he insisted I go ahead and told me to make him proud. I was hesitant to go but he insisted – he knew I was feeling good and wanted me to run my race. After telling him I would see him again to make sure he was ok, I reluctantly went and started to run again. I felt good overall but also knew the worst was yet to come – so I was definitely conservative.

As the sun went down, the temperatures dropped and it was enjoyable to be out there. My heart rate remained in check – I was smart about my nutrition and water and felt fine other than being fatigued (well, duh…). Each time I saw Rob he was moving forward and said he was ok and I knew he would finish. I’m not going to lie – my brain was focused a lot on him and I was constantly looking for him to make sure he was still out there. It was a huge relief each time I saw him, and honestly he was walking at a pretty good clip considering how much pain he was in.

I danced, I sang, I high fived kiddos along the way, I thanked all the police officers and volunteers and tried to soak it in as much as I can.

As I came through the final loop and the final miles, the emotion started to set in. I started to cry and I couldn’t stop. I felt an overwhelming sense of relief but also a bit of sadness that it was coming to an end. I walked quite a bit in those last miles, not wanting this to end. (Wait, what? I know…it makes zero sense to me, too).

The gravity of what I had just accomplished hit me like a ton of bricks. I thought back to 5 months earlier, almost to the day, when I sat in the cardiologist’s office with them looking at me with absolute fear in their eyes with my blood pressure reading of 181/112, surprised I hadn’t had a massive stroke by then. They didn’t know what to say to me. How is a 42 year old woman training for an Ironman sitting in our office with blood pressure that high? It didn’t add up.

All the tests I endured, all of the waiting without having answers, the uncertainty if I would need a stent in my kidney or some other intervention to help “fix” me. Not knowing if I would be able to continue with triathlons much less this Ironman.

And here I was, mere steps from the finish. The finish chute is like no other in any race on the planet – the lights in your eyes, the cheers, people pounding on the signs, the high fives, seeing Heather and Gavin…and the pinnacle of an Ironman finish: Mike Reilly announcing your name.

I actually didn’t hear him say it but I watched the video replay and yep, he officially said “Erika Myers from Canton…Erika, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!”

It never, ever, ever gets old. Ever.

I was all smiles as I got my finisher hat and shirt, my medal, got my photo taken and found Heather and Gavin for another hug.

We got my morning clothes bag and hurried back to the finish line to make sure I didn’t miss Rob. We were tracking him and knew he wasn’t far away. I wanted to go back on course to get him but I also wanted him to experience all of that on his own. We positioned ourselves to see him come down the final hill and also see him on the huge TV monitor crossing the line – it was pure joy.

Screen capture from the Ironman website of our finishes – thanks to several of our friends for posting a screen capture of it!

Knowing what he had just overcome to cross that finish line. I was so incredibly happy for him and so proud. We came around to meet him and I could tell he was in an immense amount of pain. We walked around a bit and went to get his morning clothes bag, which is where things went south quickly.

Thank you to Heather for capturing these images for us!

He sat down and I helped him get his shoes off and his legs just seized up. I went to get the medical staff and we got him into the med tent – where he stayed for 2 hours and received 2 bags of IV fluids. He had truly given his all to that race and his body had no more to give.

But he persevered and once his body was re-hydrated and he was feeling ok, we were able to help cheer on the final finishers at the midnight hour. There’s nothing like that in sport – anywhere. The excitement on everyone’s faces as they realize they are now an Ironman will make you smile bigger than you’ve ever smiled. And we hit Denny’s after for much-needed food and a milkshake!

And there you have it.

I have spent a lot of time thinking about this experience and realized that this one was bigger than me.

My victory was getting to the start line.

My victory was willing myself through the long training days right after my diagnosis, being thankful that I had my medication as my “armor”.

This Ironman was about being on the course and being an ambassador for the sport, helping as many people as I could, smiling when it hurt. Thanking those who helped us along the way.

Showing our daughters that truly:

It’s cliche and it may be cheesy, but honestly, if you set your mind to something, it can be accomplished.

I am just humbled and so grateful to have experienced this with Rob – we were a team throughout this whole training and learning how to work together and how to sacrifice to ensure both of us were prepared. It was not easy. There were many tears leading up to it (only from me, but whatever!) and quite a few arguments. But we made it.

And I could not be more proud.

Thank you to everyone who has made it this far reading (I warned you!) – and thank you to everyone who supported us through this.

I’m not sure what next year will bring, other than being registered for Ironman Traverse City 70.3 in August. I will take some time to let this one sink in and take a bit of a breather. I know, I’m probably a bit fat liar with that statement but at least I tried!