My Day In The Sun - The 5430 Half Ironman

I'm alive! I survived the 5430. Actually more than that - I enjoyed my day in the sun. I've been a spectator at a long event before in which I wasn't participating, and I know how draining it can be. Gayle faced the hardship and woke up at 5:00 am, ripped the kids out of bed, and was standing on the water's edge as I came out of it at about 7:38 a.m., ahead of schedule. Yes, after prepping the bikes and race gear on Saturday, Barry and I headed to Boulder at 4:30 am. It was eerie to take our bikes off the roof of the car at 5:15 in the dark, hearing the nervous and hushed whispers of other athletes around us amidst the low drone of bugs and wildlife around us at the Boulder Reservoir. We stood in line together and got "body marked," which means some girl marked us with our number in permanent marker. Then we went into the "transition zone" and I set up all my race gear like Barry had taught me the day before. I was a little nervous, but not in a performance degrading manner. I went to the bathroom 3 times between 5:30 and 6:30, which any athlete can understand. But, I was really ready to just get going. Before our wave went off at 6:55, I got to spend some precious minutes with Gayle and the kids, who ambled onto the beach at about 6:30, Gayle pushing them in the stroller. Their eyes were wide open, as if they were so tired they had to fight to keep them open, but they didn't want to let them shut. I'll never forget the image of their faces, smiling at me in unison at 6:30 in the morning with the sun rising over their heads and the Flatirons of Boulder. Hot air balloons launched above us, and I explained to Austin that they were going to watch us race. I found my spot at 6:55, they called our wave, and we were off. I'll spare the details, but in short, I swam faster than I thought I would, despite swerving all over the lake, thrice being stopped by a row-boat that told me to go the other direction. I did the 1.2 mile swim in under 42 minutes, and honestly never felt that bad doing it. Many people said I'd freak out with all the other bodies around me, but I guess swimming with baracuda, sharks and seals in the ocean with rolling waves was good preparation for that. I did feel like I was going to lose my breath at about 5 minutes in, but I turned around and saw other people with red caps (meaning they were in my age group) behind me, and decided I was doing ok and settled into a manageable pace. During the swim, I noticed the hot air balloons and thought about Austin and Wyatt on shore, motivation alone to keep swimming. I got out of the water like I had just won the race (see photo), and Gayle was right there with a stunned look on her face, as if she were rather anticipating that I had drowned. So I hopped on my bike and headed out for the 56 mile ride. I soon got caught up in the excitement of other over-eager participants and ended up riding the first 28 mile lap too fast, averaging somewhere over 22 mph. But, the weather was perfect (in the 70's with little to no wind or sun), so I figured I was fine. But I wasn't. Into the second lap, I started having some cramping in my quads, so I backed off a bit. I had aches in my back and neck, but did my best to press on and eat and drink as much as I could. Finally the bike ride was over, and I completed both loops with an average of 21.6 mph, faster than I've ever ridden 56 miles. As I turned to go down the hill back towards the Reservoir and transition area, Barry's wife Krisha yelled at me: I turned to look at her, but my eye caught Barry instead. I did a triple take to confirm that it was Barry and, indeed it was. I was utterly confused, and worried that he had injured himself. Nevertheless, I headed to the transition area, donned my clothes, and saw a Gatorade bottle half-full on Barry's bike, grabbed it without shame and slurped it down, and headed up the first hill of the half-marathon. It actually felt good to be running, and no more than 1/10th of a mile in, none other than Barry popped out from behind a car and started running with me. Turns out, poor Barry got a flat tire and didn't have a spare and was therefore unable to finish the race (Barry's true love is a full Ironman and in a race as "short" as a half, he doesn't carry spares. Unfortunatey, this was the first race in which he ever flatted). But, ever gracious, he ran step by step with me, and taught me what it means to run a half-ironman half-marathon. As I began to whine and fear at Mile 5 that my legs were cramping up and were going to seize up and bring me to the ground, Barry instructed me to press on, and so I did. My pace slowed from 7:45's to somewhere between 8 and 9's, slower than I was used to running. I didn't feel overall exhausted, like I did when I ran the Colfax half-marathon, but my legs felt like arse. With each passing mile, they got worse instead of better, but despite my fear of them seizing up, they never did, and I continued to follow Barry's orders to just keep moving. Barry said that we'd deal with complete seizure of my muscles if and when it happened, but no sooner. I still wonder whether he thought I would get to that point. At about mile 9, I thought to myself: "It feels like someone is trying to rip the muscles off of my bones." At mile 11, Barry told me I was on my own, and he took off to finish the last 2 miles of the half marathon at a 6:30 pace (not easy). By now, so close to the finish line, I decided that I was going to have to collapse to the ground before I quit running, and I sort of got used to the pain I was experiencing in my legs. I knew I was nearing the end and picked up my pace a bit, wanting to break 5 hour and 15 minutes. Then I passed Gayle, Wyatt, Austin, Barry and Krisha, and I high-fived Austin who was on Barry's shoulders. I was so overcome with emotion that I almost had to stop running because I was wheezing for breath, on the brink of tears. But I ran the last 1/10th, and crossed the finish line in 5 hours 15 minutes 55 seconds, about 15 minutes under my realistic goal time of 5 hours and 30 minutes (my half-marathon average came to 8:33 miles). The training paid off. The whole time I was racing, I realized how lucky I was to be doing it, with my family cheering me on, and with Barry running by my side. It took a lot of support for me to run as fast as I did, they were all there for me, and it felt really good. I'll never forget it, ever. After I crossed the finish line, my muscles were cramping pretty bad, flexing on their own and begging for water, nourishment and love. Gayle ran over and gave me a big hug and kiss, sweaty and salty though I was. I held Austin in my arms, as if I were holding motivation itself. Finally, I stumbled over to the free-massage tent, and got my first EVER massage (do you think I would have had it any other way than free?). Let me tell you, that was PAINFUL, because everytime the therapist (Jenni) massaged one muscle, another cramped. When I told her that it was my first massage, she burst out laughing as if it were the funniest thing she had heard all week. I said goodbye to Gayle, Krisha and the kids, and Barry and I stayed to guzzle some burritos, fruit and water. I'm a bit hobbled now, with a sore foot and really sore muscles, but I created some good memories out there. Thanks to all of you who so lovingly checked in with me, before and after the race, including Rachael and Lucy (thanks so much for the note - some of the miles did pass quickly), mom, dad, Moose (weird video, but I liked the "Press On" message), Kevin (who said he was going to shave his legs in support of me - did you?), Chris, Wes and the Shrocks (for beautiful messages on my phone - yes, I raced fast, felt God's pleasure, and had a somewhat supernatural race and "hike" (Bruce)), Kristin and Corey (Bowmar was harder), Ted (I wore the tuxedo socks), McMonagle, Dan Eakin (the bag and belt worked like a charm), Saxby (yes, the kids and wife were great motivation), and anyone else who may be slipping my mind right now. I'm not used to that kind of attention, but I appreciated all the support immensely, and hope I have the privilege of repaying it someday. Much love to all, I couldn't have done it without you, at least not that fast. - Ryan