Brenda Gibson, you are an Ironman

Hello All! I wanted to update you on my Ironman experience...sorry it's quite lengthy, but I've never been one to just use a few words ;-)

We got to Arizona on Wednesday night before the race. On Thursday it was 90 degrees and I was obsessively checking weather in hopes it would cool down quickly. I was really anxious, really scared, really excited, and really restless, continuously, for those 48 hours leading up to the race. I was eating like a bottomless pit, trying to load up my body with carbohydrates and aiming for at least 500 grams of carbs...many thin mint Girl Scout cookies, french fries, crackers, fruit juice...not quite the Atkins diet!

On Saturday, I woke up at 4 a.m. and we got to the race site around 5:15 a.m. where 1830 athletes mulled around, checking their tire pressure, stretching, re-checking their bikes, and getting those last bit of calories in. The forecast for the day turned out to be a high of 75 and approximately 20 mph winds. I was happy about the temperature, but a little unsure of the winds.

At 6:45 a.m. I made my way toward the water - you could certainly pick out the confident versus non-confident based on who was jumping in the water, and who was procrastinating. I felt as though I was about to do a bungee-jump off a 200 foot bridge, kind of feeling like I just needed someone to push me in rather than making that jump independently. The water was a brisk 65 degrees and was murky brown...they called it 'sediment' but I called it ominous. We had to swim about 200 yards up to the start line and then all 1800 of us were treading water for about 5-10 minutes until the cannon went off. Boom! And the chaos ensued. It's a pretty funny moment when you're "swimming" in a sea of people, hands and feet slapping all about you, I'm just happy to say that I took no major kicks to the face and didn't get a bruise. People were actually quite polite (which is a rarity from what I've heard) and apologized for the kick that they delivered to my shin or the hit that they delivered to my upper torso. An open-water swim is incredibly different, and more difficult, than a pool swim. You're constantly trying to sight the buoys to make sure you're still on course, and you don't have that nice black line at the bottom of the pool to guide you in the right direction. People started spreading out about 15 minutes into the swim and that's when things started getting better for me...well, with the exception that there was a ski-jet with two lifeguards hovering close by to me, which created a bit of anxiety for me. "Why are they hovering around me? Do I look like a wounded seal and they are just predicting that I'll need to be pulled from the water soon? Am I the slowest swimmer in this race and I'm bringing up the backend?" I finally realized that none of my fears were warranted, there were plenty of people behind me, and it just so happened that for safety reasons, there were jet-skis all about the course, and they weren't just focusing on me! Phew!!! The swim was 2.4 miles, however I think that with all the zigzagging I did on the course, I must have swam a good 2.8 miles. Note to self: work on stroke to ensure efficiency...and suggest that the race directors paint a big black line on the bottom of the lake so that next time I can just follow that...did I just say next time??? The swim was done and to me, the worst part was over.

I had quite the fan club cheering me on all day long - thanks to Bryce, my parents, Janessa, Sue, Susan L., Andrea, Andy and many, many other spectators, they made my day even better and kept a smile on my face with their individual attention and assurance they gave me. And thanks to many of you who called throughout the day to check on my progress, I feel incredibly fortunate and blessed to have you all.

Prior to getting on my bike I had a team of three volunteers spraying me down with sunscreen, missing a few areas that I later discovered at about 11:30 p.m. that night...great, more weird tan lines to add to my body! And off I went. I focused on keeping a slow and easy pace, making certain that my heart rate didn't get too high, and started watching the clock for the 20 minute time-point, when I would begin taking in fluids and food. My legs felt good, and I was happy to have the swim behind me. The bike course consisted of three loops and a final city loop (which I later removed the 'c' from city and replaced it with an 'sh'....I'll explain why later) Not too much occurred on that first loop, other than the minor game of leap frog that I played with one guy. You can get a penalty on the course for drafting off of other cyclist, meaning that you need to keep at least three bike lengths between your front tire and their back tire. I found myself beginning to come up on people, but not really wanting to pass them because I was trying to 'hold back' for this first loop. I would tuck in behind them start pacing off of them, then get impatient with how slow they were going, and pass them. This happened throughout the bike portion and I found it to be a rather amusing mind game, if nothing else. About 15 miles into the course I looked down at my bike computer and realized I was going 22 mph! Great, I told myself, if I keep that up, I'd be done in less than six hours! At about 17 miles there was a turnaround point where I was unpleasantly surprised with the wind, and looked down at my bike computer to see that I was only going about 12 mph. Not too bad, but I was a little surprised to feel the headwinds and what it did to my pace and the way I handled the bike. The second loop went even better for me, but at the turnaround I was hit with even stronger wind. By the third loop, the wind was even worse, but I still felt good. At one point I was only going about 7 mph thanks to the wind. I saw the 100-mile marker, then I saw the 111-mile marker, and thought I was home free...only to realize that I still hadn't done the 'final city loop' (remember, I replaced the c with an sh). It was all very confusing, I thought I was just about to finish after seeing 111 miles, but in reality, it was 108 and I would be coming around to that same point again in three miles. It's funny how one can feel fine when they think that the finish line is around the corner, but when there's four more miles to be done, I couldn't stop thinking about how badly I wanted off that stupid bike and how much I hated the final sh...city loop! It was estimated that the winds were 30 to 40 miles per hour that day, and I'd venture to say that it was 40+ at one point during the final loop. The winner of the race actually commented that those winds were every bit as difficult as the Kona Ironman World Championships and was amazed by the amateurs that were able to handle it.

When I dismounted my bike I was in disbelief that I was going to go run a marathon. All through my training, I felt as though I did not train very well for the run, so I was pretty unconfident with how this would go down. I felt as though I had a pretty good pace and my form felt really good when I started running, which usually isn't the case after you've been on a bike for 7.5 hours. For a brief moment I pondered the thought of walking for a bit, but really I knew I wasn't tired enough to justify that and I just needed to set a good pace. I negotiated with myself to run until the five-mile marker. Somewhere around what I thought would be the two-mile marker I encountered a 13-mile marker..."did I make a wrong turn? How could I be on the second loop already?" I feared that something had gone wrong, but also didn't want to ask anyone out of fear that I'd be the laughing stock, so I kept running in a bit of a panic. I soon came across a three-mile marker and was relieved to realize that because it was a two-loop run, I would continue to encounter the first and second lap mile markers. Phew! I started to feel a not-so-good sensation on my pinky toes, both of them, and realized that I had blisters working their way into my feet. I finally decided to stop and sit on the curb to clean up the grass and dirt remaining on my feet from the run across grass after the swim 10 hours ago. Note to self: be sure to clean feet off better in the swim to bike transition and put Vaseline on my feet next time...did I just say next time again??? The sun was going down and it started cooling off. I anticipated that the second half of the run was going to be painful and long, but quite honest, it went by so quickly, and I didn't feel much pain. I met many good people along the way, ran with them for a bit, and then would carry on, to meet someone new. My pace still felt good, and I felt like I was running really fast based off of all the people I was passing. I thought for certain I was running a 10-minute mile or faster, but when I finally timed it, I was running a 12-minute mile. Okay, so maybe I wasn't so fast, but I felt good! As I rounded the corner with the finish line in site I felt goose bumps on my arms, I gave high-fives to many standing along the shoot that I was running down. I felt such incredible bliss, I really can't put words to it...and I crossed the finish line. As you know, my goal was to finish with a smile on my face and not to be the last person to finish. I achieved both! There's nothing like hearing your name announced to thousands while you're crossing the finish line.

What you may believe to be impossible, is truly achievable. Five years ago, if someone had told me that I would complete an Ironman triathlon, I think I would have fallen out of my chair laughing. Infact, five years ago, I could barely run two miles. One year ago, I was hell on wheels when it came to getting on a bike. I don't mean to preach to you, but you all are near and dear to my heart and I want for you each to discover something new about yourself and your capabilities, experience setting a lofty goal, challenging yourself, and feeling that incredible gratification when reaching it. It is amazing! Alright, I'll get off my soapbox now.

So, what's next, you ask? You may have noticed I made several references to 'next time'. As of midnight last night, I registered for Ironman Arizona on April 9, 2006. Note to self: what can be done once, can be done even better the next time. So here we go again! Until then, I look forward to participating in another marathon, maybe a half-Ironman, and supporting Bryce as he takes on two marathons later this year.

Love,
Ironman Brenda

"Unless you test yourself, you stagnate. Unless you try to go way beyond what you've been able to do before, you won't develop and grow. When you go for it 100%, when you don't have the fear of 'what if I fail,' that's when you learn. That's when you're really living." Mark Allen, world champion triathlete