I rolled into transition to find my parents waiting for me. My setup was right next to the fence so they talked with me while I changed. My knee was still bothering me and I told them I was worried I wouldn't be able to run. I had brought two pairs of shoes with me, the Nike Frees which I had been training in for the last 2 months, and the pair of Brooks I had been using before them. The Brooks still had some miles on them so I had brought them as a just in case. Since they offered better support than the Nike Frees I opted to switch over to the Brooks (and was glad I had been paranoid enough to bring them).
I was taking my time in transition, which was unusual for me. I made sure I got down some nutrition, vented my fears to my parents about my knee and took some time to stretch out my legs. I grabbed my small tube of sunscreen and headed towards the run exit just as Nicole was coming in.
Time: 6:42
Run 26.2 miles
The run course is along the historic Plymouth waterfront. It starts with a short out and back to the south, then passes the Finish/Transition area after about a mile before proceeding north along the main street, a portion of a Rails-to-trails conversion and a turnaround loop in Cordage Park, then returns along the same route to the Finish/Transition area. The run was four loops of 6.55 miles each.
I was prepared by now for a very painful run. To my complete shock and amazement, there was no pain whatsoever. I almost jumped for joy as I started to run,I tried to get the pain to appear (better to know what would activate it no and avoid it if possible) but nothing came. My knee felt great! I could Run!
During the course of each loop, we passed aid stations 8 times, more than once a mile on average. Each aid station had gels, bananas, Endurolytes, pretzels/chips and cold drinks... water, Gatorade and flattened cola. I didn't stop at every aid station, but I did stop at most and quickly found exactly what worked for my stomach and for my mental state. Banana, flattened cola and, less often, Endurolytes to keep my salt content up.
The feeling of camaraderie that had developed on the bike extended into the run. Almost every passing racer meant a shared smile, nod, quick hello or word of encouragement if someone seemed to be struggling. I ran alongside one racer who had thrown up three times during the swim! He encouraged me to switch from Gatorade to cola and he was right, it was exactly what I needed.
Soon enough, I was beginning my second loop and I realized I had been going too hard. I adjusted my strategy and began doing a long run-walk pattern where I ran for nine minutes and walked for one. The second lap seemed to pass largely in a blur of footsteps and repetition.
The third loop was where I faltered. Badly. As I had finished the second loop, I simply felt so tired. I wasn't bonking, I've bonked before and this wasn't anything like that. I felt mentally tired, like I wanted a nap and I knew I had to stop running. My legs felt good but my rain was screaming "You need a break!". Maybe this was a different sort of bonk from what I had experienced before, maybe I just wimped out, I don't know. All I do know is that I broke down and started to walk when I finished the second loop, marking the midpoint of the marathon.
My parents were waiting for me again, but this time, with reinforcements. My grandmother, grandfather aunt and cousins had come back out to support me, along with my parents. Since I was walking anyways, there were many hugs handed out and words of encouragement, but I couldn't kick myself into gear again. My mother walked along with me for a ways as I tried to run but found myself somehow unable to do it. I felt really good physically, but just oh-so-tired... Soon, my mother was replaced by Nicole who chattered away while we walked and I tried to find what I needed inside of me to get back to running. We walked together for more than a mile and a half before Nicole turned back towards the Finish area. I walked on for another block or two, with fits and starts of trying to get back into stride.
Finally I stopped, grabbed hold of a sign and started going through my stretching routine. I didn't feel tight or anything, but I thought maybe it would help. A minute's worth of stretching later I looked down the road along the path before me and I felt like I could see two distinct paths leading down that same road. The first was the one I had been walking which would eventually get me where I needed to go. But there also was a second one that meant reaching down and grabbing the energy and strength I knew I still had inside me and bending that energy and strength to my will so that I could run the path I knew I should be on. This was not about my body anymore, my body was going to hurt, this was a certainty, it was far too late to avoid that. This was about my mind.
I took a step forward and found myself running.
I found joy again in the running, in each step bringing me forward towards my ultimate goal. I was more than halfway through the marathon of my first ironman... how could I give in now, even a little bit? How could I not rejoice at what I had done and how little I had left to do?
I walked the aid stations, taking a banana, Endurolytes and cold, flattened Coke at each stop, thanking the volunteers with the sort of joyous idiotic grin I had no business wearing after 12+ hours of racing. I greeted my fellow racers with renewed vigor and words of encouragement and congratulations and before I knew it I was approaching the Finish area again, about to begin my last lap of 6.55 miles. The last 6.55 miles of my life before I became an ironman.
As I began that final lap, my mother ran beside me, remarking at how great I looked, at how much better I seemed to be feeling from when they last had seen me. She was right, I had almost given in to despair and now, every step was a celebration. The sun had set and I was running along in the moonlight of my hometown as I put the finishing touches on my first ironman with my family waiting to embrace me. I was in pain, my knees were hurting (not like on the bike) and I had weariness throughout my body.
As I ran, I twisted an excerpt from a book I had read not long before to fit my own situation...
Pain is the mind-killer.
Pain is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my pain
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the pain has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
The pain in my knees was not gone. It was like a bonfire, it had flames made of heat and light and it burned oh so painfully... yet now it seemed if I didn't look at the bonfire, the heat would not burn me. If I did not think of the pain, then it could not hurt me or even slow me down.
I ran that last lap as a victory lap. I greeted and thanked every volunteer that I saw... congratulated the racers I saw who were about to finish up and braced those who weren't with the warmest words I could muster. One duo still had two more laps to do after this one. I couldn't imagine how long a night awaited them, yet they were in good spirits and cheered me heartily when I passed them again headed towards the finish.
There are two moments that stand out above any other on this day and they stand out for the same reason. The first was having my mother running alongside of me as I started the fourth lap. The second was as I approached the finish line with half a mile to go. My father was waiting alone in the dark and called out "Is that Brendan?"
"It is!" I responded with joy in my voice. He called my mother to let her know I was coming and then began running alongside me. He ran with me almost to the very finish and stopped only because the fencing and barriers stopped him. As meaningful as this would normally be, my parents have been smokers for my entire life. They had stopped two months before my race, for a variety of reasons. Two months before, I doubt either of them would have been able to run with me as they did that day but now... now they could, and they did and it meant more to me than crossing that finish line ever will.
Cross it I did indeed, pulling every erg of energy left in my body to hand and driving across the finish. There was no laurel wreath, prize purse or top three finish in my age group awaiting me on the other side of that finish line, but I raised my arms in true triumph having done what not very long ago, I would only have dreamed I could. I threw my head back and let loose a howl that would have shamed Howard Dean "YEAAAHHHHH!" before falling to my knees and kissing the beautiful pavement.
I stood, beaming, oblivious to the road grit in my mouth and was embraced by my mother and father, so proud and so worried at the same time. I felt good... in fact I felt better than I had felt all day, I felt like I could go out and do another lap if I had to.
But I didn't have to, I was done, I was an ironman... I... AM... IRONMAN!
Goal time 4:30
Actual Time 5:39:55 (First half - 2:29:50; Second half - 3:10:05)
Next... post-race!
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