Race Report- MCBH Sprit Tri

Two thirds of this race course is fantastic. It's fast and the roads, being held on a military base, are well maintained. The swim took place right off the runway, in the bay.
The swim was gross.
I knew that going in. I've raced here before with the Super Awesome Wife. The water is full of airplane fuel and oil and who knows what else runs off an airfield. All the more reason to get in, swim fast, and get out. The Grey signed up for the race too and we basically followed each other from Mililani all the way to the base. It's fun to race with a friend, even though we only saw each other briefly on the course. Super Awesome Wife and Dirtbag Baby stayed home. She wasn't feeling good the night before and he'd been kind of a grumper. I wish they had been able to come. I didn't realize until after I finished and they weren't there how much I missed having her at the end of the race. But it was a better parent choice.
This race also had a bike safety check, the first race I've ever been to with one. The local bike shop, IT&B had guys out checking every single bike for a tight chain, good brakes, properly inflated tires, and the like before it went into transition. The Honu didn't check my bike this closely. It did answer a question I've been having though. Turns out my brake cables were way loose. That explains why I didn't feel like I was having much stopping power. I figured the pads were going. Nope, way loose. Loose enough that Frank, the owner of IT&B, laughed at me when he gave my bike to their mechanic to fix. The mechanic tightened the cable down. Remember that.

 These last two triathlons have been great as far as pre-race jitters go. I know I'm out of shape, I know I'm not going to be hammering any part of it, I know I need to not go hard or I'll totally fall apart, so I'm not stressed about having a good race. I am focused on having a good time and enjoying myself.
I got a short warm-up swim in because I hate swimming in the washing machine cold, and then got ready to race.

 The swim was a triangle right buoy, left buoy, back to the entry. The key to mass swim starts to to either get out in front or get wide. When I'm fit getting out in front isn't much of a problem. I'm not swim fit. I was concerned about getting kicked in the face. Especially because this was a Marine Corps Base and a lot of Uncle Sam's Misguided Children were participating. The race director went out of her way to tell us triathlon is not a full contact sport. Some of the guys around me laughed. I'm going to get drowned by Marines.

The Swim (not pictured- how gross the water felt)

 Or not. Swimming 500m is just short enough that I can fake it with what fitness I have and my technique. I found a good starting position and at the gun (which scared the crap out of me because oh we're using a gun today) got underway strong. I concentrated on keeping my stroke long and getting to the outside. The outside is important in the swim where there are buoy turns. Inexperienced swimmers try to cut the corners very close so as to swim the shortest possible distance. This is a bad strategy. When you swim directly to the buoy you're setting yourself up for two slowing things. The first is the angle you need to make to get pointed in the right direction again. A complete right angle turn, and that's a pain in the ass in the water. You basically lose all forward momentum. The other problem is that everyone else has the same idea you do and there is a massive crush the closer you get to the turn. I swim wide. Yeah, I swim a few more meters further than everyone else, but my turn is more gradual and faster and I don't get kicked in my pretty face.
Until I space on the long leg and somehow get to the inside from the first buoy to the second. I drifted and realized too late that I was headed to the inside with no time to correct. Damnit. Oh well. I also noticed that it looked like I was further back in the pack than I wanted to be. I know, I know, I haven't been swimming, no pressure, blah blah blah I'M A BETTER SWIMMER THAN THESE PEOPLE! Still, I kept it together, didn't swim stupid, and got crushed at the turn. Then something wonderful happened. Either I misjudged how far ahead the main pack was or they faded hard en masse, but by the time we were halfway back on the last leg I'd caught the main pack. From there a swimmer has two choices, go wide, motor hard, and be out of the water a few seconds before everyone else but blown out or settle in, grab a wake, and cool it off for the last 100 yards. I chose option two, of course. I was in the back of the front group, that's plenty good enough for me. Had I been fit I probably would have been out of the water in the top 20 overall.
Coming out of the water there was a soldier holding a high pressure hose spraying athletes off as we ran into T1. That's never happened before. Frankly, it's a little disconcerting to exit the water to have the race director decide I need to be hosed off as soon as possible. Just what was I swimming in? I resolved to rinse and shower as soon as I crossed the finish line.
I sauntered through transition. Why hurry? And cruised out onto the course.
I love this bike course. I think it's my favorite sprint bike course. It was two laps, each lap about 5.6mi. The lap was a loop around the airfield, so that meant it was clean road the whole way. No Dodge the Pothole! There were some climbs, but only one of any remark. If there had been more of a headwind it would be been a harder ride, but as it was I really enjoyed it. Lots of turns, and my motorcycle sensibilities enjoy going round a bend. Slowed everyone else down too. Remember how my brakes got tightened? I near went ass-over-teakettle on the first turn because I jumped a little too hard on my newly tightened brakes. Whoops. Stopping Power! I kept down in aero and tried not to care about all the guys blasting past me. Whatever. I pretty much hooked up with another dude, tall guy, and we played hopscotch the whole eleven miles. Right at the end of the lap was a little climb, dip, steep short climb section that was kind of a challenge, but the climb was so small that I feel silly spending any more time talking about it. Had I been better fit I would barely have noticed it. I bet The Grey cruised up it stronger than I did. I wouldn't know, he hadn't caught me yet (mock taunt and otherwise).
I felt pretty strong overall on the ride, which was a pleasant surprise. I kept it together and rode smart and everything came together nicely. Right at the start I got some good burn in my thighs and glutes as my legs adjusted from swimming to riding, but that went away after a few miles. I'm sure that happens to me every race and I forget every race.
I did nearly die on the bike once. The runway is made up of concrete plates. Between each plate is maybe a quarter inch groove. They warned us during the pre-race to be aware of the grooves. I forgot. Right near the end I went to pass my buddy and put my front tire right into the groove, which dragged the back tire into the groove and the whole bike threatened to go down when I tried to pull it back out. Thanks to my amazing bike handling abilities I saved it and didn't die. I did make eye contact with the other guy who gave me a, "Woah! Nice save!"
I cruised back through T2, taking my sweet sweet time. I can't hurry getting my feet into the toe shoes anyway, and I knew there was lots of getting passed to come, so why race?
Like last time, the run was slow. I didn't feel as terrible during it as I did at Lanikai, but I by no means felt fast. I was expecting, because the Grey had warned me, there to be a brutal climb on the run. Apparently the course used to go up the same side of Radar Hill that we rode up during Lanikai. That would have suuuuuucked, and that's what I was thinking was coming the whole. Most of the first half of the run was uphill, but it was a gentle uphill and I spent it wondering what the hell The Grey had been on about. He finally passed me pretty early into the run. Him and half the damn field. I run slow.
Cruised through the turn-around at the top of the climb feeling ok, and thinking it was much shorter than the mile and a half it should have been. I was right, by the way. The run was just under three miles, which is the opposite than the just over three an a half Lanikai was.
I had an ok run. I have only one gear right now and even when I want to pull it into more than a trot it's an effort. My head isn't in it and I don't have the legs. I probably could be running faster, I think a lot of it is in my head. I'm not sweating it. Hit the finish feeling like I'd worked hard and that was good enough for me.
Fun race, good run course, great bike course, disgusting swim. I rinsed off with my spare water bottle and changed out of my race kit immediately. No skin rash on me.

Totals
Swim (~500m)- 8:45
T1-1:02
Bike (10.46mi)- 32:31
T2- 1:59
Run (2.95mi)- 29:12
Total- 1:13.32

New Balance Minimus Road 10v2 First Run

I have been in the market for a new pair of running shoes for a while now. I don't want to completely replace my Vibrams, I love them. But I've been feeling like a shoe with a little more padding, a little more something underfoot, might be nice too. My feet get sore on runs sometimes and I think that is impacting my stride, which is why I have occasional knee issues.
After some research I settled on the Minimus Road 10v2, New Balance's newest road shoe. I had requirements- I wanted a zero drop shoe (zero drop means the difference between the heel height and the toe height is zero). I didn't want too much shoe, just a little padding. And it needed to be triathlon-friendly, which means sockless friendly.
The Minimus Road is almost all of these. It's actually a 4mm drop, which is barely anything. I'd rather a zero, but after my first run I really couldn't feel too much of a difference as far as heel height goes. What I could feel, what I couldn't feel rather, was the road. I had forgotten just how much road feel I get in the Bikilas. And these are by no means thick shoes. It's just that what I'm used to running in is way thin. Still, some padding was what I was looking for and that's what I got. The shoe is still plenty flexible so there was no adjustment to my stride needed. Forefoot/midfoot strike, figure four, and all that. The Minimus' are heavier than I'm used to too, but literally everything on the market is heavier than what I'm used to so that's not saying much either.

 I bought quick zip shoelaces but haven't put them on yet, so I don't know how that's going to work.
My initial impressions while running, and this is only after 3.6mi so I don't know what's going to change, is mostly positive. The shoe acts like I wanted it to. I realized very quickly that I haven't run in a "normal" shoe is over three years, and I'd forgotten what it felt like. The toe box is huge, which means my feet get to spread like they do in the Bikilas. They padding was just enough once I got used to not feeling every little pebble in the road.

 My only complaint right now is probably a user error issue- I was having a lot of float in the shoe. That is to say, I felt like my feet were moving around a lot. I think I bought the right size, they felt right in the store, so my problem is probably one of lacing. I'm going to have to fiddle with how tightly I can lace the shoes up and see if that fixes the floating. I do have two or three tiny baby blisters, but again that's due to the float so hopefully that's something I can fix. Otherwise look for a discounted pair of slightly used shoes for sale here soon! I need to go for a sockless run too, and I must get the movement issue puzzled out before that because I know that'll rub the crap out of my feet if I don't, and no one wants that.
The plan is to wear them during the Honolulu Tri, but if I can't get them to work out like I want I still have the Bikilas. Those won't be going away by any means. I'll rotate between the NBs and the Vibrams while training. That's probably better for my feet anyway.

The tongue is connected, which will make T2 quicker and easier, which I would care about if I ran faster

Every minimalist shoe review requires the Balled Up shot. Otherwise they take away my membership card.

Kailua Canoe Club Dash and Splash Biathlon Race Report- Family Relay Style!

Super Awesome Wife Leg

As with the last biathlon I did with Dirtbag, I was responsible for the Dash portion of the Dash and Splash.  And just like last time, my ‘Dash’ was more of a walk-so-fast-it-hurts shuffle more than it was a real dash.

This time was different though, since Baby Dirtbag was there to participate with us.  To keep things easy in the morning prep, we decided to leave him in his sleeper rather than change him into fresh clothes for the day.  When I was getting Baby Dirtbag ready Daddy Dirtbag found the tape and wrote our race number on it, and then put the tape onto Baby’s arm.  All three of us had the number 73 on our left arms.

The lady who marked me drew the skull, I swear!

We got to the start with half an hour to spare, perfect for me to sit off to the side and get some milk into the baby before strapping him in his stroller for our 2.8 mile walk.  When everyone starting filling the street to get started I tried to stay to the back of the pack, since I knew we’d be the slowest of the group.  Before we got started I mentally calculated my speed.  I figured since I haven’t been out walking like I used to, I could expect about a 17-minute mile.  That’s right around where I was when I stopped doing 2-3 mile walks when I was pregnant.

 One thing I didn’t anticipate was the rolling of the course.  I was expecting a flat course. (Dirtbag Edit- Totally my fault. I just did a race on this course the weekend before and should have warned her.)  Right away I saw there would be a little climb, but figured it was the only one, and it would be flat walking until the end of the loop when I had to make the climb again to finish.  I was wrong, but pushed as hard as I could.  And I could feel it.  It burned in my shins and my feet felt super cramped in my shoes.  Every event I’ve speed walked in the past my toes feel like they are cramping for the first couple of miles, and this was no different.  Well, maybe a little different.  I felt more cramped than normal.  Hard to say if it’s because pregnancy changed my feet or if it’s because I’ve only worn shoes a handful of times in the last year.

The rolling course didn’t slow me down too much though.  Baby Dirtbag was so content in his stroller that he even napped for a bit.  The course was a loop through a residential area.  When we got to the curve that meant half way through, I heard Baby Dirtbag fill his diaper.  Around the 2-mile mark I passed the only two people I managed to keep in my line of sight since the start of the race.  Throughout the walk I kept checking my watch for speed, and managed to stay between a 15:30 and 16:30 pace.  One funny thing that kept happening was the watch kept yelling at me.  Back when I was pregnant the midwife suggested I keep my heart rate under 160 while exercising.  I set the watch to let me know when I got that high.  Fast-forward to 5 months post-partum and the max heart rate doesn’t matter anymore.  But no one told my watch.  So at every little climb it would start beeping obnoxiously until I was back on the level and my heart rate was back in the ‘safe’ range.

At the finish line Daddy Dirtbag was waiting for us.  We posed for a quick family shot before Daddy was into the water and we continued walking to the finish line.  The volunteer nurse of the event walked with me, and we were slower than Daddy to the finish line.  To be fair though, she did make me drink a ton of water before we continued walking.  I was initially offered one cup, but when she found out I was nursing Baby Dirtbag she insisted I drink 5.

Family transition

Dirtbag Leg

The race was very informal, so there wasn’t really a transition area per say. There was a mat for the runners to cross on their way into the water, and everyone doing a relay milled around there.

I knew I would have a while to wait. Super Awesome Wife doesn’t run and I don’t expect her to. That isn’t why we do these events. I figured, after watching her take off, that she’d be last in the group and I had a while to hang out. I didn’t even prep my cap until she came into sight coming down the hill. Hell, I didn’t even take off my board shorts until then. I still had my earphones in rocking out to some Quicksand.

The race was put on by the Kailua Canoe Club and it was their first time, so nothing was very serious about it. I met some very nice women who love to talk to the dad doing a relay with his wife and son. It wasn't super organized, but it didn't have to be. It was fine, low key, and plenty fun. If I had one complaint it would be that they rolled up the timing mat for the run-to-swim transition before everyone (not just me) was across. There was no reason not to wait the extra fifteen minutes so everyone who paid got to *beep* on their way into the water. Kinda not cool, guys. But that's a small gripe overall.

At around the 40 minute mark they started asking me if I should be concerned she wasn’t back yet. Nope, I expected 45 minutes before I got in the water. I was hoping she’d come in close enough to the next person that I might have a chance to catch and pass but it was not to be. At around 42 minutes one of the cops working the course came over and told me the woman pushing the stroller had just passed two people and was on her way to the final hill. That’s when I started getting ready.

She came into transition, the little boy was asleep, I kissed them both and posed for a picture, then ran down the beach. Literally the last person in the water, since I think the people she passed didn’t really swim it. Special needs team. Also very cool. So I pumped hard, but not too hard. I’ve barely swum in a while, training is so scattered and terrible. But home is better so I’m putting priorities in the right place. There’s almost no way I’m not going to walk during the Honolulu Olympic’s 10k run, but whatever. My swim was fine. Lanikai is a pretty beach and going straight along the coast couldn’t be easier. Up, out of the water, and across the line at 1:00.11. Decent swim time.

We hung out for a while, talked to some people, and the little cannonball worked his adorable baby magic on the ladies, earning him a leftover race shirt, XL, that his mommy plans on turning into some kind of wrap through sewing magic. 

Sing for a prize!

He got a hat!

Baby stylin' in the new hat

 The best part of the day was taking him into the ocean. We hadn’t been to the beach with him yet because the sun isn’t good for young skin. But we were there, he was happy, and it was warm, so why not. I’ve been looking forward to getting in the ocean with him since before he was born. Good things love water and he needs to be exposed often. We stripped his diaper, because it’s not a trip to the beach without a naked baby, and did some wet sand first, slowly walking him into the waves. The first time a little wave went over his feet he didn’t know what to make of it. So cute. I picked him up and we waded in until I could get on my knees so he was chest deep. It was a little colder than I thought, so we didn’t stay in too long. I didn’t notice the temperature when it was just me swimming, but I’m more sensitive to things like light and sound and temperature and everything when he’s with me. I don’t think he has an opinion yet, but he didn’t scream. That’s good.
I'd be posting pictures but blogger has decided not to load any more today. So no baby beach pictures for you!

So happy we were able to do our first family biathlon! I think there are many more races in our future.

Lanikai Sprint Tri 2013 Race Report

There is something freeing about going to a race knowing you are under-trained. I have been working out, but not with any kind of true regularity. I was no where near ready for a sterling performance Sunday at Lanikai and I adjusted expectations accordingly. I wanted to get out there, have fun, and do a triathlon. That was all. I knew my finishing time would be pretty sad, I expected it to hurt because races hurt, and I wanted to enjoy myself. Pretty cool to drive to a race thinking, "I'm going to totally cruise this thing." No pressure.
The weather leading up to race day hadn't been the best in paradise. Lots of rain and wind. But Sunday morning proved to be clear and warm, a perfect day for a race. Super Awesome Wife and Dirtbag Baby stayed home for this one. Little boy had a rough night and it wasn't worth it to get him up for the race. I've got a bunch more in the next few weeks, and they can come to those. I got out of the house a little later than I meant to, which was ok because it meant I got to the race in time to set up my transition area, get body marked, listen to the pre-race, and go. No time for jitters. If I could purposefully time getting to races like that I'd be awesome. I'm too worried about being late for that though.
Diesel and MamaSaid came out to support (or as they put it, "Laugh at me") and that was really cool. They weren't doing the race, they just knew me and a few other people doing it so they decided to come watch. What kind of crazy people get up early to watch a triathlon?

I haven't been swimming much, I stopped going to the Masters workouts because I don't like waiting until late to swim. I also haven't been swimming because it's my strong suit and I have the technique to fake 500 or 1000 yards without much work. Especially if my ego isn't in the way. Standing on the beach with all the other athletes waiting for the gun I made my regular joke of, "Please don't kick me in the face. I'm too pretty to get kicked in the face." Triathlon should be fun and something like that helps me relax before the off.
Because I haven't been swimming I didn't jump out to the front like I normally do. I don't think I've ever been so deep in the middle of the washing machine mosh pit that is an open water mass start. I knew that if I tried to sprint for the first buoy as per normal I'd be gassed before the final turn, so I had to settle in to the pack for the first 200 yards. That's no fun, getting bumped and kicked and grabbed and run into but eventually I found my way to some clear water. I always end up on the outside of the main group, which means I'm swimming slightly further, but without people all around. It's a trade-off I accept. I did some drafting too from a couple of friendly feet. My mantra in the water was, "Stay smooth, stay solid, don't be stupid." I kept it regular.
Even out of shape I made it out of the water in the front end of the pack and there were a ton of bike in transition when I got there. To say I jogged through transition would be an understatement. No pressure race. Easy transition. Laikai's bike exit is a pain. The transition area is in the middle of the park and it's a 200m run through the park to get to the side street where we are allowed to mount. Lots of clop clop clop. I cruise cruise cruised it too.
I love the bike course for this race. For one, the roads on that side of the island are pretty well maintained, so it's smooth sailing without a lot of Dodge the Pothole. Aside from right in the middle it is also as flat a ride as you could ask for. Pleasant winds, flat course, smooth roads means good ride. Even for someone who hasn't barely been out on his bike. Like the swim, I spent the ride concentrating on my heart rate, keeping everything together. Ride hard but not so hard. Enjoy the time out. Lanikai's course goes on to the Marine Corps base, and up Radar Hill. This is the third time I've done Lanikai, last year the guys and I did it as a relay, so it's the second time I've ridden Radar. My first time was my fourth tri ever. I remember the climb being longer and steeper than it was. I have more perspective now. It wasn't so bad. Still hurt, but not for that long.
Ripped down the hill and cruised it back to transition. I ended up in-between two packs of riders somehow, a few dozen yards behind one group and a few dozen yards in front of another. I didn't realize how close the back group was until I rolled to the dismount line and was suddenly surrounded by people. I'm pretty decent at getting my feet out of my shoes and hopping off the bike, so I didn't struggle in the group, but the guy who stopped right next to me hit the brakes a little too hard and went right over, knocking down a spectator who was standing too close.
I cruised into and through T2, taking my sweet sweet time. I had toe socket issues, which added even more time, but whatever, and then it was off on the run. I knew this was going to suck. Immediately felt like there was nothing in the tank and I had one gear- a really slow, lame gear. I "ran" the whole thing, but if I've run slower in a 5k I don't remember it. It was pretty terrible for me. I'm not beating myself up, because you get out what you put in when it comes to training, but it was still pretty annoying. The 10k at the end of my upcoming Honolulu Tri will not be pretty. Still, I finished, I had a good time, and that's what is important.
Much thanks to my wonderful sponsor, Background Profiles. 

Results
Swim (500m)- 8:54
T1- 2:13
Bike (20k)- 33:14
T2- 1:47
Run (5k)- 36:44
Total- 1:22:50

Special Guest Post- Ironman 70.3 Oceanside: A View From the Med Tent

The Other Side of Ironman

By: Sister Dirtbag

So most of you read this blog for training tips, race reports, and funny stories from Dirtbag.  I’m Sister Dirtbag and I did a fun event recently and wanted to share my experiences with you.  If you have followed along you know that as Sister Dirtbag I am the Official Athletic Trainer of Team Dirtbag.  Dirtbag is a great employer, he doubles my salary annually….

Anyway, following along with Dirtbag’s training and event has made me want to be more involved.  I’ll leave the triathlete-ing to him but I have a sports medicine background, and love these types of events, so I decided to find a way to be involved.  I got on the Ironman website, and saw there was a 70.3 in Oceanside every year.  Sounds perfect.  Once volunteer registration opened up I got on that, and registered for the medical team.  Then I started getting emails from the medical team leader with all sorts of good information, common injuries we would see, handbooks, directions, etc etc.  I signed up to work both shifts, because if I’m going to do it, might as well do it good, right?

Oceanside is about 3 hours from my house, so this involved heading down the night before and crashing with a friend.  Check in time was 5am, so I was up at 4, ready and in the car by 415.  I found my people, got a shirt and a badge, felt important, and headed to the T1 tent.  There were already quite the number of athletes milling about.  This being my first triathlon ever, it was all new to me. All I knew was Dirtbag’s recaps.  Our T1 tent was stationed at the entrance to T1, which I guess is prime parking for the Pros.  Which was awesome.  Getting to see all these people that I’m sure are a big deal in the Tri world doing their morning routines.  We were also stationed right next to the port-a-pottys.  Dirtbag has waxed poetic about the port-a-potty situation at mass events, and I never quite understood until now.  The race directors thought it would be a good idea to keep these bathrooms “locked” (zip tied) until 6:30am for whatever reason.  Which means the volunteer bathroom became the everyone bathroom, and the line leading out of T1 tent was something to see.  The locks got “broken” and re-tied probably two or three times.  

Back to the medical stuff.  One of the lead physicians was performing a study on core temperature changes during the swim portion of a triathlon.  She hypothesized that core temps would drop during cold water swims.  This was measured by swallowing pill-sized ingestible thermometers, taking a baseline reading, marking the athletes hands for ID, and sending them on their way, to see them again when they were exiting the water during the swim.  Pretty cool stuff. The water was 62.8 degrees today, much warmer than anticipated.  We had a meeting, took a team photo, and got ready to go to work.  By the time we got out of the meeting the pros had already started.  I had volunteered to go down to the dock to help spot the thermometer subjects (also, swimming is my thing, so I wanted to see this part).  The start was at the boat launch of the harbor (this is the only time of the year swimmers are allowed in the harbor). So it was a walk in, then swim to a start position out away from the harbor.  It appeared to be an out and back swim.  I situated myself on the very corner of the dock, so the athletes coming in literally swam around where I was standing to the boat launch finish.  All access passes do not suck.  Not too long after we got there the pros started coming back in.  Andy Potts, the eventual winner (uhh, spoiler alert), was first out of the water.  That was pretty awesome to see.  I snapped a billion photos during this part of the race. I thought it was pretty awesome.  The end of the swim started my change in my view of the Ironman races- I thought I was going to see the Pros.  Then the end of the swim came.  The race director was down on the harbor with us towards the end, keeping us posted on the cut offs for the swim.  We had three or four swimmers in the water still with 15 minutes left.  One of the coolest things I saw all day was the accumulation of yellow lifeguard rash guards following behind the last of the swimmers.  Towards the end each of the swimmers got an escort by both the lifeguards on paddleboards and what I am assuming are Ironman race officials.  One on each side, encouraging, guiding in the right, most efficient direction.  Three swimmers left, two, then the last one.  The last swimmer made his was out of the water to cheers from all of the volunteers, lifeguards, and race officials.  This particular athlete was competing in his first Ironman race, with a neurological-motor condition that made it amazing he was competing.  He, unfortunately, was very very affected by the cold water.  When we made it back up to the T1 tent he was trying to get on his bike, but shaking uncontrollably and slightly blue.  We moved him to the T1 tent, which had heaters going full blast.  Unfortunately, he came in at the tail end of time limits, so we had about 5 minutes to work before he had to be on the bike and out of T1.  Not much you can do with that, but the guy was amazing, warmed up as fast as he could, and when the race director came in the tent and told him 30 seconds, damned if he didn’t hop up and walk over to his bike, clip in and get on his way.  Amazing.

Oh, and preliminary reports from the thermometers?  Temp rises during the swim. When you think about it doing high-energy activity in a wetsuit it makes sense that you’d get warmer. Also, when the extremities get cold the body shunts all blood to the core to keep the vital organs going.  So the core is protected, it is the extremities that are the problem, as I’m sure most open water swimmers can attest.

It was so odd walking up the dock to T1 and seeing it completely (save one bike) empty. Everyone just moving on to the next stage of the race, after that super emotional swim finish.  All in an ironday’s work.  Off to the main “tent”.  It was a trek to the finish line, but we got to see some of the bikers racing by which was pretty awesome, and by the time we got to the main tent/finish people were already starting on the run!!  Amazing.  I missed one whole leg of the race!  Our friend from the last tent was already in the main medical tent being treated. Poor guy.  I found out this was his first Ironman, he has friends who were triathletes and they got him into it.  His day was done, but he was in good spirits about it.  Otherwise the Medical tent was pretty slow at this point, with the race in full swing and athletes out on the course, away from the finish.  I took this time to wander around, watching the run, scouting out the finish area.  I have to be honest, one of the coolest perks about this was an all access pass to the race.  I could go anywhere and see anything I wanted to.  I headed back to the tent since the race was still going on.

After a pow-wow with the new volunteers who had joined us later in the day at this tent, we set about our duties.  I helped check people in and out, pulling their medical history cards as they came in.  We saw a slew of blisters, some people wanting ice, mostly heat exhausting and exercise-induced collapse though.  See, when you’re working hard for 3-4 hours or more and you suddenly stop, all that blood that has been racing around your body pools at your feet, and that is what makes you dizzy and lightheaded as soon as you stop a race.  Get you down, feet up, and in minutes I bet you’ll start to feel a whole lot better.  I met another athlete during this time, he was on his fifth Ironman race, and told me it would be his last for awhile because his wife was pregnant so priorities would be changing soon.  He was so, so grateful for the support we provided at this event, it was really touching.  I don’t know if that amount of insane exercise makes you weepy or what, but he was so very thankful, and it made me proud, and humbled to be working this event.  All I did was wake up really early one morning and take myself and my brain to Oceanside.  He prepared for months, years and was thanking ME??  Uhh, I wouldn’t be needed if there weren’t people like him willing to do events like these.

The head medical personnel had walkie talkies on them, and there were EMTs (with Ironman, not with us) out on the course, picking up people, bringing them in, things like that.  We stated hearing chirping about a guy who had cut his head open, and we should expect him in soon.  Sounds good, and interesting.  Us medical people love interesting (read: bloody) things like this.  We waited, and waited, and eventually kinda forgot about him, figuring things just worked themselves out.  Then later on, much much later, a guy comes walking into medical tent under his own power, with a shirt that used to be white and is now fully red, and a bandage around his head.  Turns out he fell during mile ONE of the run, cut his head open, and was determined to finish.  Race officials made him stop for about 45 minutes to try and stop the bleeding (much to his dismay about his finish time).  But he had a medical condition which made the bleeding nearly impossible to stop.  He signed the waiver they wanted him to and continued chugging along. 12 miles later here he was in our tent, a finisher.  I can’t imagine the talking to his wife gave him later.  She bought him a new shirt to go home in though.  He said he was going to frame this one with his finisher medal, forget that washing business!  We had our first stitches of Ironman Oceanside.

Things were slowing down in the medical tent after that excitement, people were finishing, heading home, but there were still plenty of people out on the course.  I headed out to the finish line.  That, ladies and gents, are where the true inspiring stories of Ironman are.  Hours after the pros had finished and well after the elite amateurs. Over half the field were first-timers.  I saw a husband and wife, the husband had obviously done this before and finished well long ago, he was standing at the finish line when his wife crossed, looking like she had done many more enjoyable things in her time.  The emotion on his face when she crossed that finish was intense, the joy he felt that his wife had finished her first Ironman, the hug he gave her when she reached him…several of us were wiping away tears.  Let me tell you, if you don’t work the medical tent, work the finish line, that is where the best stories are.  Where the Tri clubs wait and cheer in their own, where people that you would see on the street and think they didn’t know what a bicycle was show you what they are made of and become finishers.  From the guy in his Tri suit and fancy watch to the guy in gym shorts and a tank top.  Both finishers.  I stayed there until the very end, 8 hours after the last wave of swimmers started.  9.5 hours maximum course time.  As the cut off was coming, I saw a wave of teal coming down the track.  The volunteers from the run course had gathered behind the last runner before cut off and were cheering her on, a tidal wave of support carrying her in.  I don’t know what the cheers were like for the first finishers, but I bet they weren’t the decibel that the volunteers made for the last.  It was incredible.

After treating the last few cases of dizziness, it was time to pack up and head home.  What a rewarding day.  The lesson I learned?  It doesn’t matter first or last, it matters that you finished.  Not even that, it matters that you did the work, got out of bed that morning, and were there when the whistle blew.  That makes you Ironman.  And I thank each and every one of them for allowing me to be a part of their journey, allowing me to support them in their goals.  I can’t wait to do it again.