Ironman Coer d'Alene 2012 - The Run

Into the actual changing tent this time. I roll in right after a lady in my age group and I can tell she is out for blood. OK, maybe not really, but she certainly was serious. I changed quickly and went out to see my boys. The were waiting right over by the side, so I went over for a kiss and hug to all of them.

Out of the changing tent

Kisses for mommy

Then out on the run. This is where it counts and I started running. And everyone around me was running. And you run into the street and people are everywhere and as I run, my back starts to seize. Full on pain. Oh NO! This has got to be the most disappointing time of the day. After my good bike, by back was... well, it was going to hinder me to say the least.

I make it to aid station one, just over a mile, run-walking. Ask for some ibuprofen. They don't have it. They can't tell me where to get it. They say they will "try" to have it on my way back. That's 11 miles away with no guarantees. But one volunteer says she has some in her pocket. I wait patiently as she digs and digs (and digs) in her pockets and comes up with... nothing. Bummer, just keep moving forward. Somewhere between mile 1 and 2, I see someone sitting and I ask if they have any ibuprofen. If I wait, they will go into their home (right behind them) and get some. What's a few minutes in a long day like this? I wait and it seems like forever, but when she emerges with a cup full of tiny pills, I am elated! (I later realize this is illegal but IM rules, no outside help. Oops!)

The rest seems to have helped my back. I am now running. But only till the pain creeps up again and my back starts to seize. Then it is too painful and I am stopping, stretching and walking till it is loose enough to run. Running till it hurts too much. Stop and repeat. 

That's pretty much how the first 6 miles went. Thankfully, by the time I hit the turnaround, the ibuprofen had kicked in and my back was staying loose. Whew! Now, it is time to run.

And I did. Running. Thank goodness!!! Oh, but it's hot. So, now I am starting to fill my water bottle up at EVERY aid station. A little on my head and plug, plug, plugging along. It helped (a lot) that miles 7-13+ were (mostly) downhill. Like the bike course, it is an out and back that is rolling (but mostly up) on the way out and rolling (but mostly down) on the way back.

I got back into town and there (again) was EVERYONE! Having EVERYONE around makes you RUN even when it hurts so bad. In particular, I was excited to see my boys. Again, more kisses and hugs. I stopped to talk and the boys said, "Mommy! Daddy said we can take you for ICE CREAM when you are all done!". I smiled and said, "Daddy is bribing you to stand out here for 12 hours. Good job, Daddy!" and off I went. Down to the turn around and back up and out of town.

Heading back out of town.

Ugh! It was at this point where my legs were really feeling it. REALLY feeling it. And not from the endurance, I can handle that. I have run long, long, long amounts on these bad boys (my legs). In those instances, I can take it, but my pace slows. In this case, I can tell it is from the biking. My quads are just cashed. Every time I try to run uphill, it's a no-go. This is when I REALLY realized I had maybe done a *tad* too much on the bike. First it took its toll on my back and now my legs. Double whammy! I was finding it hard to run the "ups", which, if you were paying attention, was pretty much miles 13+-20+. Great.

So, I did what I could. Reverted to the ultra-running tactic of walking the ups, running the downs, and made my way mile by mile. And that's how I made my way through the second loop of the marathon. Slowing A LOT, but just happy to be making it through. I had many-a conversations with people along the way. I saw everyone along the course. Cheered along my friends, as they did me. I wish I could say that it was a "great" last half marathon, but the truth is, I was sad I wasn't running. Happy to be finishing an Ironman, but sad that I was only running parts of it and not the whole thing. I am a runner. I run. VERY frustrating not to be doing so to the best of my ability. The best I can take away from this is.... lesson learned.

Mile by mile, it ticked down till finally I was almost home. Saw the finish line and off I went, but made sure to take it ALL in. Hi-fives for everyone!

Saw my boys (again!) at the end. As I entered the finish shoot, I slowed to make sure to absorb it all.

Coming upon the finish, taking it in.

More finish shoot love!

"Randi Strand, from Centennial, Colorado, YOU are an IRONMAN!!!" says Mike Reilly.

 

No matter what the conditions of the day - or the time you yield - that never gets old.