Race Report

Now begins the moment I’ve thought about for exactly one year. My Ironman race report. First, the times: My overall place was 1885 out of 2600, which gives me a ‘middle of the pack’ title.

Overall time: 15:42:12
Age group place (25-29 year olds): 75/91
Swim time (2.4 miles): 1:21:28
Bike time (112 miles): 7:54:52
Run time (26.2 miles): 6:10:29

The thought of swimming in 60-degree water in 60-degree weather at 7AM made my stomach sink. The blustery day made everyone nervous and I found myself wanting to go back to sleep until just before the start. My team left the hotel at 4:45, arrived at 5:00, tied up some loose ends with our gear, nutrition, etc, and then we had a solid, cold hour to wait. Family support was great, and we spent the good part of our remaining time taking pictures, giving hugs and talking about how rough the water looked. I toed the water just as the national anthem finished and with a resting heart rate of 110 (normally 65) I jumped into my first Ironman swim with over 2000 others with the same idea. My initial goal of relaxing, stretching out and finding space deteriorated as I realized I was in a frenzy that would not let up until the end of the first 1.2 mile loop. I now know where the large, thrashing men swim…inside the buoys; in the front, surrounding me. I couldn’t escape them! I felt like I was in a pack of seals trying to evade a shark. Constantly avoiding arms and legs flailing, my revised goal was to exit the swim without injury. Coming out of the first loop at 40 minutes I was surprised at how great I felt, despite my high heart rate and revised plan. On the second loop I found more space and relaxed much more, but ended up a minute slower than the first loop. I finished 49/91 in my age group and 996/2196 overall.

I saw our cameraman and teammate Paul after both loops and it was great to have a familiar face in a sea of unfamiliarity. several of my teammates at the swim exit and I couldn’t hold my excitement. I can’t wait to see pictures from the race…I’ve never felt so completely happy. I went to a ‘wetsuit stripper’ who yelled for me to lie on the grass so she could strip off my wetsuit. I ended up with grass and straw all over my bum, so I wish I’d taken it off myself. I also had gritty sand all over my feet and didn’t know it until a few miles into the bike. I walked into what I thought would be a nice ladies’ changing tent with my transition bag. It was actually a crowded mass of naked triathletes. There was nowhere to sit down, it was very dark and disorganized and I ended up losing my sunglasses from my jersey pocket. Goodbye, sweet glasses. I will miss you! I spent almost 9 minutes changing (try putting on spandex when your hands are freezing and your butt is wet) but I was glad I’d taken a bit of time to relax and enjoy. I donned my patchwork Pearl Izumi shorts, hoping they would last with the latest patch, my sacrificial stuffed turtle named Samuel, whose fabric belly I used to patch my latest hole. I saw Alisa and Marlene (I think!) on my way to get my bike, and instead of my usual bike-dread I was optimistic. As I tried to get my heart rate to drop into my zone 2 I was passed by about a thousand people, but after about 10 miles I started to feel good and picked up the pace a bit. The course was lined with spectators and I felt more like a celebrity than an athlete. As I went through town I got caught up in the madness and cycled faster, planning to slow down again once I was alone and didn’t have anyone to impress. I started to see Team Z members on the out-and-back portions and realized I was still in front of some of the stronger riders on the team. I saw several teammates on the out-and-backs, and five of us ended up together at special needs, mile 63, where I changed my bike shorts because of another epic hole created by my leg and my bike seat fighting. Having ridden in the back all year I was energized by having a leg up and continued at about 15 mph average. I bombed the downhills at 35-43 mph, passing several people each time with a huge smile all the while. I talked to people on the uphills, which I normally dread, and had an overwhelmingly good time. My heart rate wavered between 165 and 185 (zones 3 and 5) and never saw zone 2. I continued this way, comfortable and relaxed, pushing a bit until around mile 80, when my legs started to ache and my seat started to attack. The last 10 miles was rather painful and I wasn’t in any mood to run, but it had to be done. I knew by the second half of the bike that I would finish, something I’d doubted during my long rides all year. My goal was to finish without crying, and I salute myself for keeping my promise to myself. I will admit, however that I nearly lost it when a 2-year old’s mom cheered for me and when I smiled the little girl yelled, “I like CASEY!”

I entered the run with a bit of hesitation, not knowing what was in store for my body. I’d done the distance once before and was miserable for the last 8 miles, and that was ‘just’ a marathon. I wondered if I would break down at the half-marathon point, or even sooner. I realized on the first loop of the two-loop course how long 13 miles really is. The course sent us briefly out and back near transition, past the finish line and on the longest down-then-up-hill I’ve ever done. We ran on a footpath that followed the lake for about 6 miles, which felt like an eternity because of a slight bend in the road that didn’t allow us to see the turn-around. I thought it would never come on the first loop and my spirits dampened a bit as I realized I’d be in the same place, still running, two hours later on my second loop. At the end of the first loop I passed what turned out to be a cruel, tormenting sound: The Finish Line. I could hear the announcer yelling names and “YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!” I still had three hours of running left when I passed the finish line the second time, and two and a half hours when I passed it the THIRD time. Cruel. I’d seen Jay on the bike several times and wondered if he’d had enough recovery and desire to catch me on the run. I never doubted that he would catch me, I just wasn’t sure when it would be. At mile 20, just as I started to really hurt, he ran up behind me. I was happy to be ahead of him all the while, knowing that I’d trained well and that my dedication and discipline had paid off in a profound way. I was also relieved that he passed me and finished well enough ahead of me to greet me with a smile at the finish line. It showed that his natural ability and drive could out-run mine plus training, and I’m grateful that his race ended the way it did. My last 8 miles was my only test of wills the whole day. My race to that point was FUN, a word I haven’t used all year for long workouts. But the last 8 miles…It was so dark and lonely that I barely felt conscious. I ran with my eyes closed at times, and imagined the micro-sleeps were energizing me, helping my forward progress. Susan found me at mile 23 and took my mind off my suffering for a bit, then passed me on to Alisa, who was such a great lift for my spirits. I am eternally grateful; although when she said I had just over 2 miles left I wanted to strangle her. When a spectator told me it was 7 blocks to the finish I wasn’t sure if I had anything left to give. Seven blocks??? However, as I rounded the corner and saw the finish line, 7 blocks away, the whole day came back to me in one flash, my body felt no pain and I felt like a celebrity. I actually had to hold back tears of happiness and remind myself that I didn’t want my pictures to show any pain, any of the frustrations of the past year, only elation. Surprisingly, that’s all I felt! My finish line experience couldn’t have been any better. My parents greeted me right before the line, and Jay and Ed were waiting under the arch. I hugged Ed for what seemed like an eternity and he gave me the ‘you can do anything now’ speech, and I absolutely believe it. I want to thank everyone who supported me and stuck with me this year, even when I questioned my decision to take this on.

I haven’t had a reason for doing Ironman until now. The race is finished and now I have my reason. It’s for that feeling I didn’t know existed until I ran those last 7 blocks, staring down the finish line, filling me with hope, joy, happiness and relief.





Thank yous:

Suzanne- for sacrificing some of your Zone 2 time and hanging back with me. You made the rides so much more enjoyable, and thanks for putting up with my complaining.

Helen and the Angelz- for giving me motivation to ride faster, and for helping me duct-tape my shorts.

Pam-for all your pep-talks and encouragement.

Chris Wren- for the mantra I used on the run: “Keep moving forward”. That was more valuable than you’ll ever know.

To the farty old man who showed me it was okay to fart while I run- it made my last 10 miles much more bearable.

Ginger and Lois- for helping me see that I was doing something strange and special, and for picking my spirits up when I thought I was injured.

E.B.- for the visions of the end of your Ironman L.P. I focused so much of my effort on nutrition and hydration all year because I saw what can happen to an unhappy tummy. So glad you had a better race this year!

Brian- for mentioning BROTH IS LIKE ROCKET FUEL at our pre-race meeting. Saved my life.

Kerri Kramer- where to begin?! I wouldn’t have run 80% of an Ironman marathon without you and your expertise. Also, for the great MOJO you brought to our room at the Days Inn.

Kim and Kathryn- for listening to my diet woes and for commiserating on so many different levels.

Susan- for showing me there’s no shame in stopping at mile 106, and for all you’ve done to coordinate rides this year, along with so much more that you do for us.

Meredith- for helping me put it all in perspective and for being such a great Zone 2 pacer.

Banks- for your shining attitude. You’re my attitude hero! And I feel safer when you’re around.

Roy- for making me feel like I always have a fan (and for help with the duct-tape as well)

Jen M.- for helping me see that I don’t have to be anyone other than myself, and for counseling me. …and for brief bitching sessions that make me feel SO much better.

Talia- for EVERYTHING you do…I’m sure I’m only aware of a fraction of your efforts. And for the reality check on the back porch at the Lake Anna party. I needed that.

Alisa- for being a constant, unending source of positive energy. You put me in the right frame of mind coming out of the swim and it carried me through the whole ride, and then helped me finish the run. I can’t wait to see you at Placid!

It’s difficult to put into words my thanks to Coach Ed. I hope you know how much you’ve done for me, for Team Z and for the community. Your hug at the finish line means more to me than you’ll ever know.


Here I am, nearly two weeks post-Ironman, the memories still fresh in my mind, my heart still racing when I think about that day. I feel different, changed, better. I feel like I’ve done something for myself that no one can ever take away from me. I’ve told a handful of people since I returned (I begin with a subtle, “I did a triathlon in Idaho last week”, in an attempt to be humble), and I feel like a superstar. When I walk down the street I wonder if people can tell I’m an Ironman. I want the tattoo on my forehead. To those considering Lake Placid, I can’t think of a reason why you shouldn’t. If I can do it, so can you!