Reed's 2010 Ironman Journal Entry (more pics to come!)

Pre-race - The Monday before the race, I started feeling pretty sick - swollen lymph nodes, sore throat, runny nose, body aches, fever. I thought that by race-day (Sunday) I would be over whatever this thing was. Problem was, it didn’t go away, it just seemed to hang with me all week. On Friday, I started feeling that pain in the throat I associate with strepp-throat, plus I was running a low fever. Frustrated, I went to Urgent Care to the fastest talking doctor I’ve ever met. Strepp test was negative, but I did have sinusitis and bronchitis. That would explain why I was getting winded walking up the stairs during the week.  I got a prescription for some nose spray, filled it that night, and hoped it might work by Sunday. For the first time all year, I did not do any training all week, which normally is frustrating, but being that I was sick, I just wanted to allow my body to heal. Saturday I was one worthless husband/Dad. I could not for the life of me focus on anything but the race. I could feel my heart racing all day. The culmination of a year’s  worth of worrying, work-outs, and sacrifice by not only me, but my wife and family, were all coming down to one day, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t relax. That night I ate one piece of pizza, a bowl of quinoa, and some chicken nuggets - a meal I knew my stomach would handle. I’ve learned by experience to avoid foods that might cause havoc the next day (and by havoc, I mean gas!). In fact, in all my special needs bags, I threw in several Gas-x pills. I went to bed at 9PM, and laid there coughing and hacking until 11PM. I even had a bad cramp in my foot I had to stretch out - great, cramping already! Out of frustration, I finally got up and took some Nyquil, and eventually fell asleep only to wake up like it was Christmas at 3:30AM and laid there until 4:30 trying to see if maybe I could fall back to sleep, but it was all in vain.

Race-day morning - I got out of bed, nervously made all my cytomax bottles, putting a salt capsule (Thermolyte) in each one. They say never to experiment with food on race day, but this worked out fine, although the cytomax tasted pretty salty. John Hunter, who  was kind enough to be race support all day, picked me up at 4:50AM with his son Ryan, and off we went. I had lost my voice because of the illness, so I mostly stayed quiet until we arrived at Coeur d’Alene. Body marking took less than a minute after we arrived, and dropping off my bag was equally as painless. The city park was already quite a buzz with alot of nervous triathletes. At around 6:25AM we watched the Pros start their swim, at which time I noticed people already putting on their wetsuits. Seeing this made me nervous, so I bid farewell to John and Ryan, and off I went to put my wetsuit on. What I didn’t realize is that I was late! As I arrived at the transition area, people were already crowding to get out of the area with their wetsuits on. I managed to make my way in, nervously put on my wetsuit, and got in line. We slowly worked our way through the spectators crowding the sea-wall and made it on the beach just as they announced for everyone to get out of the water. What? But I just got here! Great! No pre-race warm up swim. I walked to my favorite spot for any race (the far left side, I breathe to my right), and wetted my goggles with someone’s water jug they left on the beach (suction on your goggles is pretty important). Everyone on the beach was really nervous to say the least. I tried to break up some of the nervous energy by making jokes with the people around me, but no one could understand me being that I had lost my voice and the loud-speakers were right behind us. It didn’t take long until the cannon was fired, and the chaos they call the Ironman swim started in the water.

Swim - With cold water, I usually take my time getting used to it and then start swimming in it. Not this time, dry as a bone I jumped in (except for the pee I couldn’t hold in two minutes before the start, oops!), it was a blur of kicking white feet, bubbles, and flailing arms. Alot of folks were swimming with their heads up, but I tried to find some sort of rhythm, which was hard with so many people hitting me. I thought that at some point during the swim, things would thin out - this was not the case at all. I never seemed to have a moment of peace (except the few times I went pretty off course). I tried to draft a few times, but could never find the right person to follow. The first buoy was probably the scariest moment. It was like a swarm of angry bees all trying to squeeze into one spot all at once. I could hear someone on a canoe nearby shouting, “No kicking! No kicking!” Well, apparently no one was listening. Escaping that death trap was a relief, only to be met with the next one shortly later. Heading back to the beach I could see Tubbs hill pass by, then the tower of the resort - I felt like I was flying compared to the swim out. Sure enough, I saw the flag at the resort flying completely horizontal, no wonder - the wind was blowing hard straight north. I reached the beach, ran through the timing pad, and off I went back into the water. This time I spotted a swimmer with white cuffs on his ankles. He seemed to keep a good pace, so I followed him all the way to the first buoy, which took forever going against the wind and waves. At one point a swimmer came out of nowhere on my left and knocked off my goggles. I quickly emptied the goggles of water, and off I went again. Things had improved at the buoy slightly this time, but it was still a death trap. I lost my white-cuffed friend around this point, made it to the second buoy, and headed to shore. Out of no where, Mr. White Cuffs shows up in front of me just inviting me to draft behind him. Don’t mind if I do! So I followed him all the way to the finish of the swim. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, perhaps it was the drafting, but I finished the swim feeling great, almost to the point I could have done another loop. I was worried about having to cough during the swim, like I did all the night before, but never had any problems. Ironman swim, you are now mine to claim! It was bad only because the crowd, but nothing to be that worried about. I’d do the same thing next time, just stay back, let everyone fight it out up front, and take it pretty easy - it’s a long day! Final time - 1 hour, 20 minutes, 29 seconds. Rank - 1154 (about what I expected)

Transition 1 - Before I came to shore, I had to pee so bad. Sara told me that her spin class instructor volunteered to strip wetsuits at the Ironman one year and came home covered in pee from all the people whizzing in their wetsuits before exiting the lake. Well, I wasn’t going to be one of “those” people, I was going to have to common decency not to spray the volunteers with any more pee than necessary. I came out of the water and it was all pretty surreal. I went from the relaxing rhythmic sound of bubbles and swimming, to the loud roars of the crowd. I stumbled my way to the changing tent, which was ridiculously over-crowded, but managed to find an empty chair. Nothing to say about the changing tent, except it was naked-city in there. Ran out to the bikes, said hi to John and my Mom (she came all the way to help from New Mexico), and off I went on the bike. Transition time - 10 minutes, 26 seconds (I took my time, why hurry?). 2.4 miles down, 138.2 to go.

Bike - From past experiences at half-Iron distance triathlons, the bike is what I most enjoyed, but over-did by going too hard. I was determined not to let 112 miles of biking do me in, so I just kept my legs in check by never straining them except on the hills when it was necessary, but even then found myself passing people. And yes, there were hills, plenty of them. The rules of the race go on and on about not drafting behind other riders. Well, there were times on the bike that you couldn’t help being 6 inches from the wheel in front of you, it was ridiculously crowded. The course consisted of two 56 mile loops throughout Couer d’Alene and Hayden Lake. It wasn’t too long in the bike somewhere in the rolling hills in Hayden that I spotted John. He snapped some photos, and I passed some people to show off, and continued the many climbs and descents. In fact, I couldn’t believe how well John timed things and was able to cheer me on during the day. I probably saw him 12 times during the bike ride alone, and all at different points. He could be a professional photographer/cheerer! It was actually a good distraction for me to always be looking for where he was going to be next, kind of like Where’s Waldo. During the course of the ride, I took wee-bit of pleasure passing people on their fancy tri-bikes and aero-helmets being that I don’t have any aero-gear on me or my bike (I have have a “merckx style” bike with the normal drop-down handle bars). In fact, I thought I would see at least another bike like mine during the day, but never did. Coming back south on the final loop of the bike, the bikers had definitely thinned out. I was feeling quite a bit of pain in the old caboose, and started feeling a little unsettled stomach-wise. I was tired of the taking in the same huckleberry-flavored Hammer gel and salty Cytomax. But you have to eat, so I gagged them down when I had to. On the aid stations, I pretty much used the same routine of pouring water all over my back, and filling up on the gatorade if needed. The highlight of the ride were the crowds of people throughout the course who set up music, ringing bells, and just cheering us on. It was an incredible display of kindness and a total pick-me up on such a long day. The last 15 miles I started to feel a bit weaker than I had, especially going straight into the head-wind down to Coeur d’Alene. Overall bike time - 6 hours, 10 minutes, 2 seconds. Rank - 944 (I moved up close to 200 spots! And this on my plain old road bike. Take that fancy tri-bikes!)

Transition 2 - Nothing much to speak of here. I just tried to find a spot to change without anyone seeing (yes, I changed everything, and yes, the doors to the tent were wide open). Time - 5 minutes, 25 seconds. 114.4 miles down, 26.2 miles to go.

The run - This was the part I was most nervous about. A couple months ago I tore some cartilage in my hip running, and really kept my running limited to aqua-jogging and running on grass for no more than 6 miles. I started at a pace I pretty much kept the whole marathon - that is slow. I found it strange that even though I was going so slow, I still found myself passing people. The aid stations were thankfully plentiful on the run, and filled with beautiful things like water soaked sponges, orange gatorade (yeah, a different flavor than on the bike course, these Ironman folks really know what they’re doing, the lemon-lime was getting old), and gels. At around mile six I accidentally took a gel that was “2X caffeine”, and the one thing about taking in caffeine is once you start, you don’t stop. So from then on I started taking in coke, and forcing myself to burp as I ran to avoid any bubbles and cramps. I honestly think I used about 200+ sponges during the course of the run. On pretty much every aid station, I’d grab two or three at the beginning, squeeze them all over my body, and then grab some sips of gatorade, dump a cup of water on my head, dump a cup of ice down my pants (kudos to Daniel Derkacs for that life-saving tip), grab a gel if needed, and then run away with two more soaking sponges to dab on my face, arms, chest, or wherever the next portion of the run. I tried to strike up alot of conversations during the run to help the time pass by, and was pretty successful, but didn’t have one person I stuck with the whole time. I ran with people from Canada, Argentina, Tennessee, California, Ohio, and a slew of other places. On the second 13.1 loop of the run, I could see evidence on the street (puke) and people on the side of the ride throwing up. The heat was really starting to take a toll, but I think I managed the heat pretty well with my ice-crotch and sponge strategy, not to mention my new X-Bionic Fennec shirt (just google it, I’m convinced it works, it felt like a fridge over my torso the whole run). My stomach never felt too bad and really turned the corner once they started serving the chicken broth. Man, after a day of sweet things like gels, Shot Blocks, and gatorade, the best thing I ever tasted was the chicken broth - it was like Thanksgiving dinner! It gave me new life on the last 10 miles and kept me looking forward to arriving at the next aid station to have another sip. As mile 18 came around, I thought I would eventually hit “the wall” that everyone speaks about. Perhaps as a sign that I wasn’t giving it my all, this “wall” never came. I ran most of the way through the course except for steep hills and aid stations, so I was expecting my lack of run-training to kick in - but it didn’t! Coming toward town I ran by the library and towards the NightHawk building where I used to work. I knew I was close and instantly felt new life come into my legs. As I turned the corner down Sherman Avenue, the crowds of people cheering became the tunnel with the light at the end - the light being that big white inflatable Ironman finish gate. I picked up my speed considerably and managed to muster an all-out sprint towards the finish line the last 50 yards (as well as some high fives). The early morning work-outs, the stress, the worries, the weight of the race that had weighed me down for a year was being lifted off my shoulders. I had not only finished the race, I had finished a year’s worth of waiting and anxiety. I don’t think I can attempt to describe the feeling. I heard John calling my name after I finished, I gave him a high five, and then found my wife and Mom calling my name. I gave my wife the biggest kiss and hug I could. At this point, the emotions overwhelmed me at this finish-line embrace. All her sacrificing and support for my crazy goal have been hard on her, and I’m so grateful to have such an awesome wife. She deserves a thousand hugs and kisses for all the long training sessions she has had to put up with and my total absent-mindedness for months preceding the event. It was also so sweet to have my Mom and Owen there sharing the special once-in-a-lifetime moment (it would have been perfect to have my Dad there as well, maybe next time Dad!). I proceeded to the finisher area and got a quick massage, grabbed a piece of pizza, and headed out to go home feeling quite euphoric (probably still the caffeine high). The miracle of the whole day was when I got home, and found myself peeing clear water. Either my kidneys had shut down, or I had somehow avoided dehydration (which is sometimes hard to do with olympic distance events). I think a peeing miracle is a miracle worth mentioning, so I had to, sorry. Run time - 4 hours, 46 minutes, 30 seconds. Rank - 835 (crazy, I moved up almost another 100 spots on my weakest segment, I usually lose spots here). 140.6 miles in the Christensen history books (please take note Grandma).

Overall time - 12 hours, 32 minutes, and 52 seconds.

I couldn’t be more happy with how the day went. After learning from past mistakes from previous events, it seemed to all come together for me on the day of the biggest event of my life. The sickness wasn’t a factor and although it would have been nice to run a bit faster, the fact I was able to keep running a marathon after all the swimming and biking that preceded it in hot temperatures, I’m pleased as punch. There was alot of people that helped me accomplish this seemingly impossible goal, and I will be forever grateful for their helping me learn the ropes of triathlon:

John - John has been my mentor from the beginning when he introduced me to the sport a couple years ago as my boss at NightHawk. He taught me pretty much everything and provided me with stacks and stacks of Triathlete, Bicycling, and Runners World magazines when he was done with them, not to mention hand-me-down biking gear (I’m pretty budget minded - hence the bike sans aero-bars). I remember when I was first learning to swim, he provided the valuable insight that I should wear goggles. It seems quite stupid now, but I honestly had no idea what I was doing. Not only that, seeing him at all points in the race was a total pick-me-up. My wife and I still aren’t sure how to thank him and his wife for all they did that day being race support and babysitting duty to our four little monsters. Hopefully I can support him on his Ironman race-day the same way he supported me.

Daniel and David Derkacs - I grew up with these guys and both are accomplished triathletes and marathoners (Daniel did the Coeur d’Alene Ironman two years ago and qualified for Kona), and Daniel’s little hydration and cooling tricks were extremely helpful. I was constantly emailing them to get thoughts on various injuries and training questions. Thanks Dave and Daniel!

Mike DeGooyer - I met Mike briefly during last year’s half-Ironman in Boise, but he has been coaching me via email for several months now. I told him my finishing time goal and he drew up a very simple and easy to follow plan each week. As good as I felt the day of the race, it was really the small and simple things that brought great things to pass, and his training and nutrition schedule was perfect for me and my abilities. His frequent encouraging emails helped me get through the training ups and downs. Thanks Mike!

Doug Sorenson and Tom Dance - these guys were frequent riding partners in Coeur d’Alene. Long rides go alot quicker when you go with someone else! I remember at one point, Tom came up to me in church back in February and told me I really needed to start picking things up training-wise, and from that moment on I did and never looked back. Thanks for the push Tom.

In conclusion, all I can say is, I am finally an Ironman!  Can’t wait to do it all over again (with my wife’s blessing that is)!