Muncie Endurathon (Half Ironman) Race Report

My first true test of endurance required a stop in Muncie, Indiana for a Half Ironman tune-up before the real deal. Despite being half the distance of what I will ultimately do in Louisville (1.2 swim, 56 bike, 13.1 run), a Half Ironman was going to be a serious test. It's a true milestone and I'd be kidding myself if I didn't admit that I was worried. If I had trouble with the half, that's all I would be thinking about going into the full. Regardless of my physical abilites, this race was essential for my mental health.

My dad and I drove up to Muncie on Friday afternoon. After multiple, ahem, detours, we made it to the Prairie Creek Reservoir where everything was going down on Saturday. The water looked calm and clean, the transition area was huge, and the surrounding roads appeared to be pretty flat. I was sufficiently satisfied with the set-up, so we jumped back into the car and drove into downtown Muncie for the race expo.

The race expo was at the Muncie convention center in downtown Muncie. I'm a huge fan of the great state of Indiana, but I strongly recommend staying away from downtown Muncie. It was one of the most depressing cities I've ever seen. The expo itself was not very big, but given the number of athletes it had some decent gear. I've been spoiled by the Chicago and Boston marathon expos, so its hard to put it into perspective. I picked up my packet, got body marked, sat through the mandatory pre-race meeting with about one hundred other athletes, and headed to the hotel.

As an aside, I need a moment to vent. One of my biggest pet peeves is the sizing of t-shirts at athletic events. I am a female athlete. I workout a million hours a week. Don't insult me by giving me a GINORMOUS t-shirt. I am not a big girl!! I cannot wear a men's size small. Yes, I understand that the majority of people who do triathlons are men, but that is no excuse. I don't care about the stupid metal or the plaque, I want the damn t-shirt!! The t-shirt is the badge of honor, but I can't wear it when it comes down to my knees!! Come on people. Get with the program. Bill and Bob and Fred have t-shirts that fit them. I should receive a t-shirt that fits me. Get gender specific t-shirts or endure my wrath, my emails, my race evaluations. One of these days you'll get sick of me complaining -- or at least I hope you will. Until that day - anyone want t-shirts? I have dozens. Sure to impress your friends.

The closest hotel I could find (and I booked in February!) was in Anderson, Indiana about 30 minutes from the race site. We checked in and headed to The Olive Garden for dinner. Pasta with marinara and chicken breast, salad, and breadsticks. Pretty boring. I try to keep it as bland as possible to keep my stomach happy on race morning. After dinner it was bedtime, lights out at 8:00 p.m.

My alarm went off at 4:15 a.m. Brutal. Breakfast consisted of a Kashi protein shake with berries, a banana, oatmeal, and milk (I even brought my own blender) and a half of a bagel with peanut butter. Eating on race morning is one of my least favorite things to do. I'm not a breakfast person in the first place, and with pre-race nerves I have to basically force feed myself.

We quickly packed the car and were on our way to Prairie Creek Reservoir by 4:50 a.m. We arrived at the site around 5:20 a.m. It was completely dark as race officials directed us into a grassy lot with flashlights. Athletes moved silently and methodically in the dark, pumping bike tires, filling water bottles, and gathering their gear. Luckily my dad had a flashlight, so I grabbed my back pack of gear and my bike and we headed to transition.

This was the largest transition area I had ever seen. More than 600 athletes were participating in the half ironman with several hundred others competing in Aquabike (swim and bike legs), relay, and sprint events. With the help of the flashlight I found my numbered rack and started to set up my gear. My rack was all female athletes, just the way I like it. I don't know why, but I feel like I get attitude from some of the male competitors, and I rather not have to deal with racking my bike next to them. I helped several people find their numbered spots with my flashlight and we all chatted nervously. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only crazy person in the world training for these events, and it's nice to see so many other athletes to confirm that I am not, in fact, out of my mind. I double checked my gear several times and headed out of transition to return my empty gear bag to the car.

As we walked back to the car all we could see was a line of headlights. It was like the scene from Field of Dreams -- a country road with an endless line of cars marked by their headlights -- all waiting patiently to enter the grassy lot. I had about an hour until race time so I sat in the grass and pretended to stretch and returned to transition a couple times to check my gear.

Up until this point, I had worn a wetsuit in all of the small triathlons I competed in. In order to be what they call "wetsuit legal" the water temperature has to be under 78 degrees. Signs at transition indicated that the water was 77 degrees and wetsuit legal. Still, I planned to go wetsuitless in preparation of Louisville. Since Louisville is on August 30, the water has never been wetsuit legal, and I knew I needed to practice without it. Despite the fact that I feel like a giant marshmallow flailing my arms when I swim in a wetsuit, it is supposed to make you faster, and it certainly prevents you from drowning.

I found my coach Joe in transition. He was checking out my bike to make sure I was ready to go (he was also racing himself). Despite my plan to go without, he convinced me that I should wear my wetsuit. I don't argue with Joe. He looks like superman. I just do what he says like a good little minion. (Yes, my goggles are on upside down and yes, I am a consummate professional).

The weather predicted low 80s and scattered storms, but the clouds were clearing and I could see blue sky and the sun starting to peak out. So much for those storms - or so I thought.

By this time it was nearly 7:00 a.m. The first wave of swimmers would start at 7:00. I was in the 6th wave (red cap wave) - starting around 7:20 with females under 39 and men 20-24. I was not happy about having to start with guys. Especially 20 year olds. I much rather get kicked by a female then some 22 year old college dude. I covered myself with body glide (which helps get your wetsuit on and off), got into my wetsuit, and walked down to the beach. The first wave was already in the water and I gathered with the other red caps. Before I knew it we were being ushered into the water. I was trying to relax, but my heart was beating a million miles an hour. In order to swim well you need to relax, the last thing I am when I swim in a muddy, bull shark infested body of water with hundreds of other bodies, is relaxed. The water wasn't very cold, but unlike the day before it looked pretty choppy. I looked out into the distance, trying to spot the turn around - a sailboat that seemed to be a million miles away.

The bull horn sounded and we were off. I waited toward the back as the guys went balls to the walls diving into the water. The scariest part of triathlon, in my opinion, is the first couple hundred meters of the swim. I'm not scared of the water, but open water swimming is another totally different. Am I going to get kicked in the chest and get the wind knocked out of me? Will someone elbow me in the face and crack my goggles? What's actually IN this water? You can't just stop and regain your composure like on the bike or the run. If you stop you drown.

Things started badly. My goggles weren't properly sealed and immediately I had water in my eyes. After a mid-water adjustment I was off. It usually takes me about 400 meters to get into a rhythm. The only rhythm that would be had today was the waves beating the crap out of my body. No question the worse open water swim I've ever had. I never relaxed. I was very uncomfortable. I was taking in alot of water because the waves were larger than what I was used to and I was having a hard time spotting the target sailboat. I passed a pontoon boat after about 400 meters with about 7 swimmers hanging onto the end. USAT rules allow you to hang on to boats along the course as long as the boat is not making any forward progress. At least I wasn't the weakest swimmer out there. I felt like I was in the water for an eternity, swimming in one of those endless pools but not actually getting anywhere.

Once I made it to the sailboat and started to head back to shore I felt I little more confident. Unfortunately, the waves only got worse on the way back. I only breathe to one side and it just happened that on my way out I was breathing away from the waves, but on my way back in I was breathing into the waves. I had to stop twice and tread water after I started choking from breathing into a wave. At this point the next wave of athletes was catching up to me. I still saw some red caps, but I was being invaded by silver caps (40-50 something men). One of the things I hate is when a swimmer comes up behind you and their fingertips hit the back of your feet. It's not a hard hit, and it's much better than being kicked in the face, but it totally freaks me out. For a split second I imagine Jaws or his sea creature buddies ready to pounce from behind. Yes, I know I was not swimming in an ocean, but I'm still deathly afraid of Jaws. Really nice for staying relaxed.

I was thrilled to hit the beach and make my way up the hill to transition. I always feel a bit discombobulated coming out of the water, and I was breathing rather heavily. More from nerves than the actual exercise. I was having trouble unzipping my wetsuit and the 40 year old guy behind me noticed - "Can I help you with that?" he said as we jogged up the hill. "Please!" As he unzipped my suit I thanked him "No problem! I've always wanted to undress a good looking young thing." Awesome.

Once in transition I found my bike and started the chore of taking off the wetsuit. I suck at taking off my wetsuit and no amount of body glide seems to make it easier. I ended up on the ground pulling the thing off. I loaded my tri top with two Cliff bars (chocolate chip and white chocolate macadamia nut), two packs of sports beans (lemon lime), a pack of gum, and a canister of nuun (lemon lime). Slipped on my spikes, buckled my helmet, and I was jogging out of transition with my bike. Clipped in and I was off. Breathe.

After a few small rolling hills I found myself on a pancake flat bike trail. I easily reached speeds of 22 mph with my cadence in the mid-90s. I was relieved that my legs felt fresh and ready to spin. After a few miles on the bike path we were directed out onto the open road. Te roads were all completely closed to traffic which helped me to relax and concentrate on my cadence. I was getting passed (as I always do on the bike), but surprisingly I was also passing people (which I never do on the bike). I was determined to keep my head in the race and remain focused on my cadence and speed. I generally have a hard time staying focused on the bike find myself day dreaming and loosing speed. Instead, I focused my attention on who was passing me (all of the athletes in triathlons are body marked so you can tell what age groups they are in ) and on my cadence.

About 15 miles into the bike my coach Joe passed me. "Good job Katie. Aren't you glad I told you to wear your wetsuit!" he shouted as he flew past me. Yes Joe. Thank god I wore that wetsuit. Without that wetsuit I think I would be at the bottom of that reservoir.

The course was basically an out and back, except for a short portion at the end, so soon after Joe passed me the first male rider was coming back on the other side of the road. I thought to myself - "seriously guy?" He was like 40 miles ahead of me. Ridiculous. The first female rider flew by shortly after that. Wow. Her thighs were as big as my core. Well maybe not that big, but you get the idea.

The wind was terrible. I was only able to go 14-15 mph and was getting very frustrated. Several times I found myself going off the road as the gusts blew my bike around like it was nothing. I held onto my aerobars for dear life. I was genuinely scared to reach for a cliff bar, in fear that I wouldn't be strong enough to hold of the wind with one hand. I made quick grabs for food immediately following large gusts.

I have a really REALLY hard time eating anything of substance when i'm exercising, but I knew eating those Cliff bars was essential to maintaining energy. I ate 1/2 of a Cliff bar at a time, approximately every 20 miles and hated every second of it. I had to chew on the same piece for 20-30 seconds before I was able to swallow anything. To add to the difficulty, I am also addicted to gum, especially when I'm riding and running. So I had a hunk of Cliff bar in one hand and my gum in the other as I maneuvered my gears and the wind. Disgusting. I know.

Not even a minute after I cleared the turn around at the half way point I felt a few drops of rain. Then I heard thunder. Uh oh. Next thing I knew I was in the middle of an absolute torrential downpour. It was raining so hard it felt like little pellets of hail on my arms. It was raining sideways because of the wind, and only minutes after it started the road was already spotted with puddles. I saw lightening in the distance. Awesome. A female rider rode past "beautiful day for a ride" she screamed. I had never ridden in a storm like this, so needless to say I was very nervous. I have only really been seriously riding for several months, so I'm not entirely comfortable on my aerobars and I'm definately not comfortable taking turns. Luckily most of ride was completely straight, with very few turns, so I only had to slow to a near stop a few times to make turns.

My experience has been that after torrential rain, it generally stops raining all together or at least slows to a drizzle. Not so much. Throughout the ride the rain let up a bit, but 10 minutes later would unleash again. I was able to munch on wet cliff bars in the brief intermissions.

There were water stations along the bike course, but I only needed to fill my bottle at the last stop. Riding 20 mph and grabbing a water bottle from someone with one hand, in the pouring rain and not throwing yourself off balance is quite the trick. My timing was terrible. I needed to fill my water bottle but I had just opened a cliff bar and had gum in the other hand. With my mouth full of Cliff bar I grabbed a water bottle from a soaked 10 year old kid on the side of the road. I think I about took him out as I rode by, but the pass was successful and I was looking forward to reaching the end of the bike leg and getting my butt off that seat.

The last 10 miles of the ride were the worst. I was so ready to be done. My legs were tired and I was very uncomfortable. The road was patched all over the place, witch made for a very bumpy ride and made it difficult to build any speed. The wet road made the imperfections hard to see and I felt like I was weaving back and forth along the road, substantially slowing my pace.

I generally feel rather defeated as I come in from the bike, but today I felt great. I was 2/3 of the way through my first half ironman, I actually passed some bikers, and I did it all in a tsunami. I jogged through transition and found my spot. I grabbed my Garmin, slipped on my absolutely soaking wet flats, and buckled my race number. After a quick stop at the port-o-let I was off. I was totally stoked to be running (despite the 10 pound weights I had on each foot). I don't particularly like the wet shoes part, but I absolutely LOVE running in the rain. My best track and cross country races were in the rain, and the conditions only helped my confidence as I started out. As I started my run a guy was finishing right next to me. Unbelievable. I wasn't even mad at him! I was excited to run.

I immediately started picking people off. Generally my legs feel like bricks coming off the bike, but today I felt awesome. About a mile in I passed a group of 5 men running together "Did you just ride those 56 miles? You look fresh as a daisy!" "Show off!" another shouted. I laughed and kept motoring along.

The course had rolling hills, but they were small and I found that the downhills were easily getting me up the uphills. I was consciously holding myself back, telling myself to keep it under control. My right calf was a little tight, but other than that I felt amazing and really wanted to put the hammer down and take off. Relax, I kept telling myself. Your body has never done this before, the last thing you want to do is blow up with 5-6 miles to go. So I continued along at a steady pace.

I was abosolutely having a blast. I don't even feel this good in sprint and olympic distance triathlons. What is my deal? I felt giddy. The run was an out and back so I was watching all the runners headed back my way. Lots of people yelled out to me "you look strong" "you go girl" - their encouragement only fueled my desire to take off.

The race support on the run was amazing. There were fluid stations every mile. The poor volunteers were completely soaked to the bone. It's one thing to be out in a storm if your racing, its an entirely different thing when you're handing out water for hours on end. They were handing out water, Gatorade, GU packs, ice cold towels, and flat coke. I alternated water and Gatorade every two miles. I was running through the aid stations, only taking a sip or two of fluid.

I love picking my favorite race volunteer. I love when volunteers are entertaining. My favorite volunteers were the 20 something Mormon guys (clearly on their "mish"). They were at mile 5 /8 and were wearing black slacks, dress shoes, button down shirts and ties - with their name plates. They were completely, and utterly soaking wet but they were running around like crazy - yelling out to runners so they were prepared with their fluid of choice and jumping all over the place. They had giant smiles on their faces and you could tell they were having a blast. I loved them. Their energy was contagious.

It was raining steadily during the run, but around mile 5 the sky opened up once again and another torrential downpour ensued. The reaction of the runners and volunteers gave me goosebumps. Almost simultaneously everyone around me cheered - guys were fist pumping and spreading their arms to the sky. I started to laugh. Don't get me wrong, we were all very happy that the rain was keeping the temperature down, but we were all running with giant weights on our feet -- not to mention wet shoes mean BAD blisters. I was running past guys who were litterally ringing out their tops. I know we were all thinking to ourselves, "I'm already slightly deranged to do this in the first place, but doing it in a thunderstorm? You've got to be kidding me." I love triathletes.

When I reached the turn around I had a huge cheesy grin on my face. The anticipation of finishing was killing me. I knew I was going to make it and I felt like a million dollars. There was no doubt about it. I had the best runner's high of my life. As I passed athletes I always checked their calves to see what age group there were in. Around mile 8 I came upon a tall gentleman moving along at a good clip with "70" on his back right calf. I got goosebumps. 70? Are you kidding me? 70, just meant he was in the 70-over age group so he was at LEAST 70 and he had been in front of me for the majority of the race. I'm not much of a talker when I race, but as I passed him I said "You're amazing." Instead of taking my compliment he quickly shot back "No I'm not, YOU'RE amazing, look at you fly by me."

I was quickly approaching several Illinois jerseys. Again, I'm not a talker, but if I'm going to pass a guy in an Illinois jersey I'm gonna say something. The first guy had a "50" on his calf. "Go Hoosiers!" I said as I passed. "Go Hoosiers" he responded, laughing. Well that was easy, I thought to myself. The next Illinois jersey I came to was a guy with a "20" on his calf. "Hoosiers don't get beat by Illini " I said as I passed. No response. I looked back -- he was not amused.

With 4 miles to go I started to feel like it was Christmas morning. I didn't feel pain. I wasn't tired. All I wanted to do was run fast. Very fast. I started to pick it up but kept it under control. "Katie, your body could still blow up" I kept telling myself. With about a mile and a half I couldn't take it anymore. I started running at about a 7:00 minute mile pace. Fans dotted the last 800 meters and ringing cow bells got my heart pounding. Up over the last hill with the finish line in sight I kicked it in with a giant ridiculous smile on my face. I was fist pumping and jumping up and down and having my own little party in the chute. The teen-aged boys who were collecting chips were laughing at me.

I've run in dozens of track meets, cross country meets, road races, duathlons, and I've run 3 marathons. Hands down this was the most accomplished I've ever felt at the end of an athletic event. Not only was I relieved that I COULD do it, I was ecstatic at how much fun I had actually doing it. I have been in pain for the past couple months from all the training I've been doing. I've also been absolutely exhausted, both physically and mentally. But today I felt amazing. Less than 2 months until the real deal, Ironman Louisville, and I was going to be able to do it. I was sure now.

The picture to the right is Kevin and I -- Kevin did the Endurathon (much faster than me) is also doing IM Louisville.

Here is a breakdown of my race (1.2 mile swim; 56 mile bike; 13.1 mile run):
191 females

507 males

304/698 athletes
50/191 women
swim: 45:17 (426)
bike 3:04:16 at 18.2 mph (535)
run: 1:41:03 at 7:43 pace (93)

I'm clearly not a swimmer or a cyclist - but i'm still happy with my times. The next month and a half of training is going to be intense. Now I'm ready and super excited!!