A Day of Blessings: Ironman Philippines
The week before I worked on remaining calm and focused,
hydrated, well rested and acclimated to the heat and humidity. It was a good
week. I was ready.
Bike- Goal 6:35-8:18 hours; Actual 7:58
I got this. I reminded myself again to stay hydrated (the more I repeat to myself the more I will remember when my brain is fried). I commit to stopping at all aid stations and putting ice down my front and back and dumping water over my head to stay cool. The first part of the ride from the resort was familiar. I already rode this a few times. Set up my power- 70% felt easy which is fine, I have a long way to go and a hill to climb soon. I have not been on that climb yet so I am not exactly sure what to expect.
I am drinking aggressively, every 10 min or whenever I feel like it which is actually every 5 min. I took in 2 shot blocs before the climb. The climb was easy and gradual. They talked it up quite a bit. I was happy for my solid hill training at home- many many MANY repeats up and down Twin Oaks and San Elijo Roads. It was getting warm fast but I appreciated the shade so far knowing that there is zero shade on the SCTEX (expressway). It will be a long hot day; but, I am prepared and so far it still doesn’t compare to training on my bike in my bathroom with winter gear, steam and heat - pretty miserable. I got this. Yet another reminder though to drink. I reached the top of the hill and downhill onto the SCTEX.
This. Is. AWESOME.
I stopped at my first aid station. While there was a lovely breeze on the descent I was hot. I filled my back and front with ice and had the volunteers dump cold icy water over my head. I drank cold water, and refilled my aero bottle. Oh that ice and water on me was heaven! I never cooled myself in heat training so it was such a bonus. My average pace dropped from the climb but increased on the descent, I paid close attention to my power staying within range. I was energized after cooling off.
Someone is yelling at me. Probably my rear water bottle fell out. It has slipped down under the cage before but I secured it this time. I feel back for it and it is intact. It is on my right rear cage. Okay, I guess he wasn’t talking to me. So I keep riding, totally loving this ride. Maybe I should check the left- my flat kit is there. It never falls out, it has always been secure there.
NOOO!!!!
It’s gone.
NO NO NO.
I tell myself to keep my head together. I looked back and didn’t see it anywhere. I deep breathe and keep riding. I have yet to get a flat on race day. I say a Hail Mary quickly and hope for no flat and keep moving forward. I am hypervigilant about what is on the road and avoiding anything that could cause a potential flat. The roads are clean. I will pick up my tube and CO2 cartridge when I come back through Special Needs area.
Aaaaaaannnnd
thump…thump…thump…thump…
No it can’t possibly be.
I stop to check
Rear flat.
“Are you f-ing kidding me??!!!” I yell aloud.
“no, no no! This is not how we do this today!”
I have small wheels, 650c so not a lot of people would have a spare. The flat was caused by a small straightened staple like thing not visible on the road. I had the exact same flat a few days ago on my practice ride. There was no other culprit so I pulled it out. It was a tiny pin-like puncture.
There is another athlete with a flat a few meters back on the same side. Maybe he has some PitStop/Fix-a-flat which would be perfect. Or maybe I can just fill it up and finish the race with just a slow leak. He is out of CO2, he used his up. His tire was slashed and he said he’s out of the race. He wanted to try once more so we were waving down other cyclists for a spare CO2 for him. He got one and no luck. Now I have to try to get a CO2. He let me hang onto his CO2 adapter for a while. At the same time were flagging down several Ironman marshall motorcycles and they kept telling us the next one would help us. Someone finally stopped and filled my tire. It filled easily and seemed like it would be fine. Thank goodness! I want to at least get to the next aid station and if it flat I can get help there. I give him his CO2 adapter back and go.
I’m rolling well and loving this road. The rain comes. I welcomed the cooling water. It was more like a monsoon. A little hard to see but I loved it. I reach the aid station and…
Seriously???? Seriously???
The tire went flat.
OMG I want to lose my shit but I refuse to expend the energy. Okay- I remind myself that I did in fact hope to at least get the the aid station. I did. Okay so get help. I ask the volunteers if they have any supplies or access to help. Not a single one did. There is parked race bike behind them. “Whose bike is that?” I ask. None of them know. “ That bike does not belong to any of you here? Are you sure?” They have no idea about that bike. “Are you able to call the SAG?” “the what?” “The SAG? The people who can help me with my flat?” “no ma’am we don’t know who that is.”
Again… OMG I want to lose my shit but I refuse to expend the energy.
Breathe.
The rain is pouring, the wind is blowing pretty hard. The aid station is getting blown. My tire on the side of the road is getting blown! I better go back and secure it.
I pace and think. I need to solve this. No spare tube, no air, nothing. I suppose I could blow up my tube with my mouth and just keep doing that every aid station. Ha- I just might.
I’ve been trying to flag down the marshalls again and they say the next one will stop. OMG.
Realizing I could be done here, I start to cry a bit and ask my Dad for help. “Please Dad. You taught me to never give up. I watched you persevere when all odds were against you. Help me.”
A marshall stops and not really knowing what I need I suddenly realize he could at least go to Special needs and get my tube, tire and CO2 cartridge. I still don’t’ have an adaptor but let’s start there. They can do it. They play a game of telephone with a few others telling them my race number. I’m not feeling confident that they will succeed but I have no other option but to hope they come back with my bag. They assure me they will return.
All I can do it wait it out, ride out the storm (literally). I am getting cold in the rain. How funny- I’m cold. I use this time to eat and drink. I ate and drank a lot. I need to figure out the CO2 adaptor. Well when they come with my stuff maybe they will have one. Or I guess I blow it up with my mouth. Can that be done? If it needs to it will because I’m not going to end my race. I need to think more, what other options are there. Its survival thinking now. And more waiting. I look at my watch and realize I have lost a lot of time, maybe an hour. Can I even make the bike cutoff? If I can resolve this and get on the road in the next 10 minutes and average 16mph the rest of the ride I will make the cutoff. But it all depends on getting on the road. I’m not feeling confident they will come back.
I talk to my Dad again.
Seriously, the motorcycle stops with my bag just then. I jump up and down and thank him. I ask if he has an adaptor and he says no but he will ask around. He gives me my bag and goes. Crap, now what? I look over to the bike, the abandoned race bike, with a flat kit bag on the bag. I don’t know if I would get disqualified for stealing their CO2 adaptor but it’s all about survival now. Act now, apologize later. I set my tire down, turn around to get it and there is a volunteer with a bike pump ready to pump my tire and put it on. I think he was the same guy as before. Where did he come from? It is feeling like divine intervention now. Okay! He puts it on and I’m ready to go. I thank him over and over and tell him he just saved my race!!!
I am within that 10 min window, actually 8 minutes have gone by.
I’ve been seriously blessed and given another chance. I’m plenty cool, thankful for the rain. Now I take advantage of it. It will be hot later. The road is so smooth. I change my screen to speed and away from power. I know, Coach Julie, I know. But it is about survival now and I need to finish this. I go for a few minutes fast in the rain. Make the most of this because I’ll slow in the heat. I do have a long way to go, like 90 more miles. I better be wise and go back to power and periodically check my avg pace. I need to heed my power or I will burn out later. I went back to my power screen.
I found when I was in the flats my power drops. I space out and pick it up with very little effort. I make sure to keep the power the whole time and not get lazy. It is working well and my speed is following well. My average speed after the flat tire (from leaving my Garmin on the whole stop) dropped to 9mph. Yikes. I need to ride the rest at 16mph and get the total avg up to 13.5mph to make the cutoff. My avg speed is picking up nicely. This is going to be fun. I finally relax and trust I will do this whole ride. Time to enjoy it.
It was beautiful. The rain stopped. I was hydrating well, consistently stuffing my suit with ice at every aid station. I loved the peanut butter and white bread they had. I felt great. It was definitely getting warm and with each aid station stop my ice would melt faster. If I was bored, all I had to do was look up. The scenery was amazing- rainforested mountains, crisp shades of green, rice fields, huts. Looking down, the roadkill was interesting- turtles, frogs and a few really big creepy snakes.
The children who lived in the huts and shacks along the expressway were standing on the bridges cheering us on and collecting our dropped water bottles to drink. “Goooo ma’am” (sounds like Go MOM) and “Hola ma’am!!” Most were not wearing shoes. They were beautiful and sweet children. I would smile and wave at them and they would love that. As I looked over at the makeshift homes in the fields and ravines, I had a powerful realization. My bike probably costs more than their houses. They may not be able to comprehend how much money I spend on this sport and trip here. What I am doing is so far from their world. The children are collecting our used bottles and drinking what is left! Sobering. My perspective had been forever changed. I owe them way more than a wave and smile so I yell out as loud as I can, “Salamat!!!” (Thank you).
The animals along the way made me laugh. The ride was quiet and all I could hear were roosters and my pedaling in the background. Then I hear this loud, snorting chewing sound. I look to my right and only a few feet away is a giant white cow/ox chewing grass just off the side of the road. My bike course is essentially a freeway and there is a cow right there (as well as children). The cow made me giggle.
It was getting hotter now. The rain and cool was long gone. I looked forward to each aid station as my ice was melting faster. I felt fine except for when I had to pass the burning rice fields. So much hotter.
My average speed was picking up just fine. Well past total avg 13.5mph. I am going to be fine. I started calculating what my finish time would have been if I had not stopped. I estimated I lost about an hour. I would have finished under 7 hours, better than my last Ironman on a much more brutal course. How frustrating. At least I got through the flat and will make the cutoff.
Mile 95 or so I was getting really hot now. I had remained fairly comfortable until now. My ice was melting as soon as I put in in my top at the aid station so I’d pile more and more and fill my drink bottle with ice. Ugh. I kept eating, hydrating and calculating how much I have had to eat and drink so far---plenty. I was getting nauseas. I know this feeling well and have plenty of tools to deal with it. Always came 9-15 min into my hard heat training. I was fine though. The peanut butter bread felt good. The bean paste cookies they offered were nasty. My apologies to the volunteers at the table where I just spit it out on the ground and left. That was pretty rude.
I reminded myself that I did not have much to go. My power remained steady and exact. I’m good.
Last aid station then the “short steep climb to Tipo gate.” That is how they describe it. I honestly cannot recall how steep the downhill was coming out. I was getting foggy. I stopped at the aid station and forgot what I needed there. Oh yes- ice- lots of ice and fill my aero bottle with ice and Gatorade. I had plenty to drink and I was peeing a lot throughout the race. The ice and shot bloc I ate woke me up but the ice melted fast. I stuff as much as I can fit in my top. Time to climb.
So many cars. Why are they suddenly here? Where is my open lane? Ugh. So overwhelming.
Small climb, flat, small climb, toll gate, other toll gate, small climb. I’m still waiting for the “short steep climb” and I’ve passed two gates. I’m tired form all the small climbs. I was ready for a short steep and then a descent into town. More smaller climbs. More heat. Ugh. I feel whiny. Okay. Drink more, eat a little more. Almost to the top finally! Yes! Time to descend and look for monkeys. Total avg speed 14.7mph from 9.0mph. Excellent. While not at all an impressive avg pace, it was a solid comeback form the hour lost from the flat and I stayed in my power zone.
The descent is nice but full of cars so I had to remain on the side. I avoided the sides the entire time because of debris that could cause a flat. Oh well. No monkeys either. I arrived in Subic town to a sudden increase in humidity. OMG it feels like a sauna. I guess it was drier on the expressway. My total time was about 7:50 something when I arrived in Subic. Okay I want to keep this under 8:00. I see runners, walking and looking miserable all with ice.
Oh crap. I have to run now. And no more breeze from the bike. And its’
really hot now. Omg! OMG!! OMG!!! I quickly interrupt my mini panic and
refocus. I made it to the run! I finished the bike despite a flat and monsoon.
I did it! I also feel crappy but it’s Ironman, that’s normal. I review my
hydration, nutrition and pace plan for the run. Taking in the last breeze, I
arrive at T2.
T2 Goal 6 min; Actual 09:16
OMFG! It’s so hot. No clouds. I’m foggy. I stared at my box completely confused and overwhelmed. No idea what to do next. Shoes? Helmet? Drink? Sit? Stand? I don’t know!!!Okay lets pour the ice water from Luna’s Hydroflask into the Camelback. Just cool water left. Awww. I drank some to reset. Get my shoes and I’m ready to go. It felt amazing to run out of T2. I am tires AF but happy to be starting the run.
Run
It feels pretty tough to start. I am thrilled to hear my family shout at me. My legs feel fine but my brain is foggy. All good. Eat. Drink. Aid stations every kilometer so I commit to getting ice at each one to survive the run. Got into a rhythm. Pace is solid. I’m tired but I can do this. I go from feeling fine to feeling like this is the most brutal run I have ever done in seconds. And seeing the faces on the runners coming back didn’t help. They looked miserable. I’m not sure why it feels so hard. While it is warm, I’m not actually hot anymore. I remind myself that I knew this race was not ever going to be a picnic so suck it up and keep moving. Sunset will be here soon and it will be cooler.
The aid stations are wonderful and a life saver. I run from aid station to the next looking forward to it. My nutrition is tasting awful. I hate my warm NUUN in my camelback. Having the camelback on my back is annoying. I was never annoyed by it in training. I need to get rid of this. Next time I see James I’m giving it to him. Shot blocs- meh. Not thrilled with them. I can tolerate them. I try Gatorade at the next station and that seems to work. It’s cold. So every aid station: gatorade, water, ice in front, ice in back, cold water poured over me. Loved that. Let’s try soda—I don’t love it but it is not making my stomach worse. Gels- absolutely not.
It is getting dark, excellent. I envision tucking myself in for the night for the rest of the run. It feels more humid. Looking forward to the turnaround. It gets darker, quiet and lonely. Cicadas and bullfrogs are singing. I appreciate their songs. I appreciate the tropical humid smell….and here comes the sewage smell. And here comes my food! Nice work Cecily, you just puked on the course. Ugh. I’m sure the other runners will appreciate that. I move to the side and grass. I’m not done involuntarily heaving but nothing more coming up. I can’t stop the heaving. I try to keep the hydration coming only to end up heaving again once it stopped. After a few stops I decide it’s time to learn to run and wretch at the same time. Ha! Apparently, I am not coordinated enough to make that work. Let’s walk and heave. I can do it but I’m way off balance and nearly tripped over the curb. I stop and let it pass.
Small goals now. Focus on the road in front. Continue moving forward. Continue running. Walk if I start to wretch again. Focus on road and move to flat part. Ahhh my body is silent and peaceful. Aaaaannnd it’s back. Keep walking. Fortunately it didn’t last long. Excellent. Is it over? Let’s try running. Okay. So far so good. Next aid station I drink a little water. And here it comes. And it stops. Let’s try a banana. Meh. It’s neutral but I cannot eat the whole half. The wretching slowly subsides. My diaphragm and tongue hurt.
Back in town. Turn left then down Rizal Rd to hotel and a bunch of little roads winding in town. I have a smooth patch coming into town. My stomach is stable so I skip drinking and nutrition for about 3 aid stations to let it rest.
And just like that I go from stable to nauseas and dizzy. I remind myself that I know this feeling from heat training. I suck on a ginger candy and keep moving forward. The town, the cars, the noise, the lights are so confusing and overwhelming. The smell is awful. It makes everything worse. The dizziness and nausea are getting worse. OMG please don’t wretch, please no! And I don’t. Yay. I turn past the finish hearing athletes cross the finish line becoming Ironman finishers. I can’t wait! After the turnaround, just one more loop.
It is getting hard to run. My eyes can’t focus so I walk a bit. Maybe I really should get my eyes checked when I get home. Walk. Run. Move forward. Reach 13.1mile turnaround. I stop. I need to see better. I put my head down and stretch my hamstrings. OMG that feels so much better! Upside down. Good. OMG I could nap. I slowly get vertical, the dizziness subsides. Start moving and get back to a rhythm.
I return to some semblance of a rhythm as I get back on Rizal Rd. I see James. He runs with me, actually I inadvertently walk with him. Feeling dizzy on and off but I can deal with it. He stays with me until the turn down the long, lonely, dark road out of town. I am glad to be back there. The stimulation in town was way too much. Running again, feeling better. And that lasts only a brief moment.
WTF?
Try the shot blocs, soda, gatorade, ice, water over me again. I’m hot. I’m freezing. I feel smothered. It’s not hot out. I start to check out, as in not remembering the last kilometer I just ran or how I got to the next aid station. That’s weird. Maybe I’m at the same aid station and never left? The volunteer asks what I want. I don’t know. They handed me a Gatorade cup and I have no idea what to do with it. I stare at it and ask the volunteer what I do with it. He tells me to drink it. I question, “But it’s blue? Why is it blue?” He says, “drink ma’am.” Okay. It tastes great. I think I can live off this on the run.
Next aid station. Again no clue getting there. I feel like crap. I am really dizzy. I stop and hang my head down. OMG everything is spinning. I close my eyes and it’s a little better but I’m losing my balance. I put my hands out and end up in downward dog. Stable. Good. I slowly get up. OMG it feels like a disco. WTF? Let’s go back down, it feels better there. Deep breaths. Slowly rise again. A little better. Let’s run to the next aid station and try to stay present. My face hurts. It feels like it just got burned. I used sunscreen today, maybe not well enough. It gets hotter. I put some ice on it and eat some ice too. The rest of my body is freezing but I can still feel the humidity.
I arrive at the next aid station. I think, or maybe it was the same one. I’m seeing colors, I’m going down. I grab the blue barrel full of ice and hang on and lean my head down holding on tight. I close my eyes and the colors are gone. I don’t know how long I did this or what happened. Next thing I know is a volunteer is tapping me and saying, “ma’am are you ok?” OMG I think I fell asleep. I’m mortified. I reflexively tell him I’m ok. “Okay,” I tell myself, “let’s get up and get this done. You had a nap.” I get up. Nope. Everything is spinning again and the colors are back. Back down hanging on the barrel. I’m drifting in and out. I think I have this brilliant idea that if I bury my whole head and shoulders in the ice bucket upside down it will help. My face is burning so that would be great. I could nap once more time there and be good to go. It makes perfect sense. I go for it but the volunteer interferes with my grand plan and tells me, ”no, ma’am, you can’t do that.” I don’t have the energy to argue. I guess he is right. My sweaty head will contaminate the ice for the other athletes, duh. I get back up and the balance is lost again. Seeing an empty chair at the aid station, I ask if I can sit there. I sit with my head down between my legs which is better. My arms were tired from hanging off the barrel. This was great. Way better. I’m getting better. Okay now I can get this done.
I slowly get up.
OMFG!
My legs are like concrete.
I use all of my upper body strength to get up out of the chair.
And I’m up.
I wait and get my bearings.
And tell myself to move forward.
One step, two steps, I see the colors and spinning and feel like I am going down.
I sit back down. More like flop back.
Sitting in the chair now, it feels like hours have passed. I feel stable enough to sit up. I look at my watch and realize I still have time to finish. I get up again. F%*@!!!!!! What is this? What do I need? Sure, a nap but seriously, WHAT DO I NEED? I need to problem solve. Think hard, Cecily. I need IVfluids. I ask a volunteer if I can get medical here to give me some IVFluids and if they did would that disqualify me from the race. They said they can get someone here and it would be fine. Okay let’s conform with medical when they get here. Maybe I can get 250-500mL and be on my way. I put my head back down and the ambulance is here. It was actually sitting across the street. I ask their medic if I can get an IV and continue racing. They say yes but I need to get in the vehicle. Okay. Getting up was a lot of work, I was losing balance so the medic helped me.
In the ambulance they ask if I want to sit or lie down. Sit. I just need a quick IV so I can run again. The doctor, yes they had an MD on the ambulance. “Let’s get some information from you, ma’am.” The questions they are asking are really hard and require way more thought than I want to do right now. Questions like what happened? how do I feel now? My name (I knew that one)? Race number – no idea but it’s on my bib. I can’t read my bib, I can’t really read any print right now. So I show her the bib. They give me oxygen. Oh yes! THAT feels great!!!And I’m freezing now. The doctor starts an IV in my hand. Impressive as at home they usually start IVs AC in the field. Oh yes she is an MD. Well done Ironman Philippines. Solid staffing on the medical. Love it. I wanted to tell her all about my family. My father and how he went to UPhil Med. But none of that came out. Words were too much work. Thoughts were work. She asked if she could give me Reglan for the nausea. Heck yeah!!! Then the nausea will go away and I will be good to go. She asks again how I am feeling. Better. Until I move my head, then the room is spinning again. Meds aren’t working yet.
She looks at me and tells me, “it is my medical opinion that you go to the hospital for more IV electrolytes.” WTF? Isn’t that what you are giving me now in that unmarked bottle hanging there? I ask her to give me some here. She cannot. But I just need a little so I can finish the race. Again, like a broken records she says,”Ms Arenas, it is my medical opinion that you go to the hospital.” I tell her no, I need to finish the race or at least try to finish. I tell her I promise to go to the hospital AFTER I finish. She says it again and adds “…for your overall longterm health and safety.”
The dizziness is not going away. I don’t know. I think of my kids and family. I think of my future grandson, Arlo. I don’t want to disappoint them by quitting. I also want to remain healthy. I’m proud of my health. It was the “for your overall longterm health and safety” that struck me and woke me up.
Ok, I agree to go.
Oh God, WHAT have I just done?
They lay me down on the stretcher. It feels great to lie down. The light on the ceiling of the ambulance was too bright but I continued to stare at it going in and out of consciousness. The Reglan makes me feel high/drunk and really sleepy. I recall the siren and a bumpy ride. I then feel the insecurity of not knowing where I am going. I need to call James but I have no information for him. The ambulance said St…something, Olongapo. I guess I’m going there? We arrive to the ER. They wheeled me in in a wheelchair which I initially refused until I nearly pulled the IV out of my hand trying to get out. I hated it. I hated being in a wheelchair. They help me into the ER bed. I’m feeling better but still dizzy, really sleepy and foggy. Long story short- So many questions, so hard to think, they want to run labs and imaging, I want to just go back to my hotel, my insurance doesn’t work here, I don’t have cash or my phone, I sign refusals, I’m freezing, lots of athletes in the ER too, a lot of waiting around. I want to leave now. I’m freezing.
I tell the Ironman representative who happened to be there since the beginning, that I’m ready to leave. He had introduced himself upon my arrival and said he is here to help me in any way that I need. I assumed he was my ride back, the guy who notified my family and eventually took my timing chip. He says I need to be discharged first. I get discharged…finally. I ask him to call my family because he did not already. He cannot because the number is a US cell number that he cannot call from his phone and most people here could not. “Okay so how do I contact my husband and let him know I’m here?” I ask him. He says, “Why don’t you just go to your hotel and surprise him?” Okay I must have heard that wrong. I’m foggy, I can own that. “Seriously?” I ask. “Yes.” He says with a perfectly straight face. He meant it. Okay, “so you will take me back to my hotel then?” I ask. “No, ma’am, I have to stay here but I’m sure you can get a taxi.” No money. They tell the taxi that I will get money from my room at the hotel and he agrees. I don’t have money in my room. I’m sure my family is NOT there. I don’t have a key. BUT I want to leave NOW and I just have to trust it will work or I will just disappear after the taxi drops me off and deal with my karma later. We go. My hotel helps me out and everything is good.
Now to find my family, gather my gear and hand in my timing chip. Ironman representative at the hospital said he couldn’t take it and I’d have to hand it in myself. Ouch. Fortunately my gear was at the finish across the street from the hotel. I was able to walk straight (sort of). I just felt a little drunk at this point. It’s sad, the race is over. They are cleaning up the area, the giant finish line lights are off. People are still there, the last finishers. People gathering their gear. My heart sinks. I didn’t run through that finish line. It stings a lot.
I see my family. I see Liam and Luna!!! They see me and run over to the gate. (They later tell me I looked really drunk walking towards them) I’m holding my timing chip looking for some official to take it. The look on Luna’s face I will never forget. Her arms were wide open. She knew. She gave me her heart at that moment at hugged me tight. OMG I love my kids. They saw the tape on my hand and asked if I had an IV. I told them what happened.
I need to get my bike and gear. Liam goes with me. He is very insistent to the volunteers that they let him in T2 to help me with my gear. He tells them I was just in the ER and will need help. They tell him no. He pushes. They promise they will help me and he can wait there. He continues to push with such authority. I tell him it’s okay, I’m fine and to wait here. He asks if I’m sure. Yes. He assures me he will be right here. That warms my heart. My kids are amazing, REALLY amazing.
Overall I feel blessed and honored to have been able to swim, bike and run in the Philippines. Seeing the children on the bike gave me perspective.
What is important?
My family.
Children- all of them.
Helping others.
My health and safety.
Sure it stings especially when I do not have that beautiful medal with such a meaningful story behind it.
I felt strong, mostly. I was very well prepared. My post race recovery the following days was incredible, the best it has ever been - a testament to how well I trained. I felt good then next day.
I reviewed repeatedly what could have led to the near syncopal events in the run. What did I do? What did I miss? Where was my head? I didn’t feel particularly hot. I hydrated and took in nutrition perfectly. I pee’d a lot on the bike and even a few times on the run and continued to take in fluids. However, my extremities were like marshmallows, fingers to shoulder and thighs to toes. The fluid went elsewhere and not where it needed to go. When I measured my sodium intake afterwards, I only took in about 1/3 of what I actually needed on the bike. I lost my Basesalts early on and just focused on nutrition, hydration and ice. If there is a next time, I will get my sweat rate tested and know exactly how much salt to take in and carry prefilled tablets and take them on the clock. If they offer another full distance Ironman Philippines, there is no doubt that I will go back and finish strong. In fact, I pray they do hold another.
I had an epic swim and bike. I was confident going in. I LOVED the bike course. And I was overall happy with the organization of the race. The volunteers did a good job keeping us cool out there. And keeping me from burying my head and shoulders and passing out in a giant ice barrell!!!! Thank you volunteers!
Thank you to all of my friends and family everywhere who supported me in training and especially after the race. It made the sting of the DNF a lot less painful and allowed me to focus on what is truly important rather than wallowing. A special thank you to my beautiful, patient and badass family. You all are amazing. I could not have made this journey without you. Thank you James for being my running buddy and feeding me. To Luna and Liam- Thank you for letting me take over your bathroom for on the bike sauna training. Thank you Coach Julie for all of your hard work helping me work through, push through and be patient with myself. The training was spot on and because of you I am a much more mature and fit athlete.
Finally, thank you to my father. Thank you for the divine interventions along the way. Particularly on the bike when I had the flat. Thank you for letting me journey on your homeland and get a glimpse of your life. It was truly an honor.
Swim- Goal 1:45 (1h45m) and :52 at the hallway point; Actual
1:46, :50 halfway
I was abnormally calm and collected race morning. The waters
were calm which reassured me. The night before there was a storm making the
water really choppy. I headed to my start corral and they played Bocelli’s
Prayer. I LOVE Andreas Bocelli! Wow! It is going to be a good day. I saw Liam
on the way and he tells me “You got this!” I do! I really do! Next comes the
Philippine National Anthem. A man was waving a giant flag beachside and it was
beautiful. Such an honor. It gave me chills. I enter the start corral to a
fully robed Catholic Priest blessing all of us with holy water. I stopped for
it, took it all in and said a Hail Mary.
I saw friends and stayed with them. Allen had been my buddy
all week giving us rides everywhere. He lives in San Diego too. I met Fred at
the manila airport upon arrival last week. He has been doing tri’s with some of
the originals. He was happy to just be here. Luna and James made their way over
to take photos and wish me luck. And so far- no tears. No panic. Even when I
hugged James. I felt so confident and ready. Maybe a little warm which was a
new feeling at the start of a tri as I am always freezing! I’ll take it.
Time to start. I go without hesitation.
The swim is two loops with an exit and re-entrance into the
water halfway. Plan is to swim along the line, yes we have a buoy line along
the entire course to follow! This will be straightest swim ever. OMG! People
are stopping and holding onto the line? WTF? Folks are swimming really slow
breaststroke? Okay I’m seeded in the slow group and I am a slow swimmer but
this is out of control! I swim over people, get dunked myself and navigate for
open spots. The strategy of swimming along the line isn’t working so I moved
away. The swim was pretty smooth. Water was super salty and I saw some really
cool bamboo boats wishing I had a camera. They were our safety boats, much
prettier than a plastic kayak.
The swim seems relatively fast and I am entering the final
turn before the halfway point where I will exit and reenter. They have an aid
station there so I will definitely grab a drink to get the salt out of my
mouth. I had random thoughts of my half brother, Joey who passed over a year
ago. I think about his beautiful family and how we would talk on facebook about
doing a triathlon relay in the Philippines. He and I couldn’t figure out who
would swim or bike. I wanted to bike and was way to scared to swim in the water
here. He preferred to bike because he wasn’t a strong swimmer. Guess what Joey-
I’m doing both today. Time to exit and I look at my split. :50, excellent! 2
min faster than planned. I also felt like I took it easy ont eh first loop.
Next loop should be faster as there are less people in the water. I tried to
follow the line but ended up zigzagging around slower swimmers. I started to
check out the wildlife under water. I really enjoyed that. I wasn’t afraid! I
NEVER attempt to look at critters in the water. I have always magically not
seen anything. How fun, except I really need to remember I am not on vacation
at this exact moment and I am in a race! So pick it up! This last loop felt
longer. I heard later there was more of a current then. I couldn’t see the
finish arch but only the starting arch. I guess I head to that one? Later I
found out the wind blew it down. I was redirected by the guards to the finish
which was NOT at the starting arch so I went way of course. I came in and was
thrilled to move to the bike. Total time showed I was way slower the second
loop but my overall was close enough. I was satisfied. I swam without a wetsuit
and absolutely LOVED it.
T1-
Goal 9min; Actual 11:29
Bike- Goal 6:35-8:18 hours; Actual 7:58
I got this. I reminded myself again to stay hydrated (the more I repeat to myself the more I will remember when my brain is fried). I commit to stopping at all aid stations and putting ice down my front and back and dumping water over my head to stay cool. The first part of the ride from the resort was familiar. I already rode this a few times. Set up my power- 70% felt easy which is fine, I have a long way to go and a hill to climb soon. I have not been on that climb yet so I am not exactly sure what to expect.
I am drinking aggressively, every 10 min or whenever I feel like it which is actually every 5 min. I took in 2 shot blocs before the climb. The climb was easy and gradual. They talked it up quite a bit. I was happy for my solid hill training at home- many many MANY repeats up and down Twin Oaks and San Elijo Roads. It was getting warm fast but I appreciated the shade so far knowing that there is zero shade on the SCTEX (expressway). It will be a long hot day; but, I am prepared and so far it still doesn’t compare to training on my bike in my bathroom with winter gear, steam and heat - pretty miserable. I got this. Yet another reminder though to drink. I reached the top of the hill and downhill onto the SCTEX.
This. Is. AWESOME.
I stopped at my first aid station. While there was a lovely breeze on the descent I was hot. I filled my back and front with ice and had the volunteers dump cold icy water over my head. I drank cold water, and refilled my aero bottle. Oh that ice and water on me was heaven! I never cooled myself in heat training so it was such a bonus. My average pace dropped from the climb but increased on the descent, I paid close attention to my power staying within range. I was energized after cooling off.
Someone is yelling at me. Probably my rear water bottle fell out. It has slipped down under the cage before but I secured it this time. I feel back for it and it is intact. It is on my right rear cage. Okay, I guess he wasn’t talking to me. So I keep riding, totally loving this ride. Maybe I should check the left- my flat kit is there. It never falls out, it has always been secure there.
NOOO!!!!
It’s gone.
NO NO NO.
I tell myself to keep my head together. I looked back and didn’t see it anywhere. I deep breathe and keep riding. I have yet to get a flat on race day. I say a Hail Mary quickly and hope for no flat and keep moving forward. I am hypervigilant about what is on the road and avoiding anything that could cause a potential flat. The roads are clean. I will pick up my tube and CO2 cartridge when I come back through Special Needs area.
Aaaaaaannnnd
thump…thump…thump…thump…
No it can’t possibly be.
I stop to check
Rear flat.
“Are you f-ing kidding me??!!!” I yell aloud.
“no, no no! This is not how we do this today!”
I have small wheels, 650c so not a lot of people would have a spare. The flat was caused by a small straightened staple like thing not visible on the road. I had the exact same flat a few days ago on my practice ride. There was no other culprit so I pulled it out. It was a tiny pin-like puncture.
There is another athlete with a flat a few meters back on the same side. Maybe he has some PitStop/Fix-a-flat which would be perfect. Or maybe I can just fill it up and finish the race with just a slow leak. He is out of CO2, he used his up. His tire was slashed and he said he’s out of the race. He wanted to try once more so we were waving down other cyclists for a spare CO2 for him. He got one and no luck. Now I have to try to get a CO2. He let me hang onto his CO2 adapter for a while. At the same time were flagging down several Ironman marshall motorcycles and they kept telling us the next one would help us. Someone finally stopped and filled my tire. It filled easily and seemed like it would be fine. Thank goodness! I want to at least get to the next aid station and if it flat I can get help there. I give him his CO2 adapter back and go.
I’m rolling well and loving this road. The rain comes. I welcomed the cooling water. It was more like a monsoon. A little hard to see but I loved it. I reach the aid station and…
Seriously???? Seriously???
The tire went flat.
OMG I want to lose my shit but I refuse to expend the energy. Okay- I remind myself that I did in fact hope to at least get the the aid station. I did. Okay so get help. I ask the volunteers if they have any supplies or access to help. Not a single one did. There is parked race bike behind them. “Whose bike is that?” I ask. None of them know. “ That bike does not belong to any of you here? Are you sure?” They have no idea about that bike. “Are you able to call the SAG?” “the what?” “The SAG? The people who can help me with my flat?” “no ma’am we don’t know who that is.”
Again… OMG I want to lose my shit but I refuse to expend the energy.
Breathe.
The rain is pouring, the wind is blowing pretty hard. The aid station is getting blown. My tire on the side of the road is getting blown! I better go back and secure it.
I pace and think. I need to solve this. No spare tube, no air, nothing. I suppose I could blow up my tube with my mouth and just keep doing that every aid station. Ha- I just might.
I’ve been trying to flag down the marshalls again and they say the next one will stop. OMG.
Realizing I could be done here, I start to cry a bit and ask my Dad for help. “Please Dad. You taught me to never give up. I watched you persevere when all odds were against you. Help me.”
A marshall stops and not really knowing what I need I suddenly realize he could at least go to Special needs and get my tube, tire and CO2 cartridge. I still don’t’ have an adaptor but let’s start there. They can do it. They play a game of telephone with a few others telling them my race number. I’m not feeling confident that they will succeed but I have no other option but to hope they come back with my bag. They assure me they will return.
All I can do it wait it out, ride out the storm (literally). I am getting cold in the rain. How funny- I’m cold. I use this time to eat and drink. I ate and drank a lot. I need to figure out the CO2 adaptor. Well when they come with my stuff maybe they will have one. Or I guess I blow it up with my mouth. Can that be done? If it needs to it will because I’m not going to end my race. I need to think more, what other options are there. Its survival thinking now. And more waiting. I look at my watch and realize I have lost a lot of time, maybe an hour. Can I even make the bike cutoff? If I can resolve this and get on the road in the next 10 minutes and average 16mph the rest of the ride I will make the cutoff. But it all depends on getting on the road. I’m not feeling confident they will come back.
I talk to my Dad again.
Seriously, the motorcycle stops with my bag just then. I jump up and down and thank him. I ask if he has an adaptor and he says no but he will ask around. He gives me my bag and goes. Crap, now what? I look over to the bike, the abandoned race bike, with a flat kit bag on the bag. I don’t know if I would get disqualified for stealing their CO2 adaptor but it’s all about survival now. Act now, apologize later. I set my tire down, turn around to get it and there is a volunteer with a bike pump ready to pump my tire and put it on. I think he was the same guy as before. Where did he come from? It is feeling like divine intervention now. Okay! He puts it on and I’m ready to go. I thank him over and over and tell him he just saved my race!!!
I am within that 10 min window, actually 8 minutes have gone by.
I’ve been seriously blessed and given another chance. I’m plenty cool, thankful for the rain. Now I take advantage of it. It will be hot later. The road is so smooth. I change my screen to speed and away from power. I know, Coach Julie, I know. But it is about survival now and I need to finish this. I go for a few minutes fast in the rain. Make the most of this because I’ll slow in the heat. I do have a long way to go, like 90 more miles. I better be wise and go back to power and periodically check my avg pace. I need to heed my power or I will burn out later. I went back to my power screen.
I found when I was in the flats my power drops. I space out and pick it up with very little effort. I make sure to keep the power the whole time and not get lazy. It is working well and my speed is following well. My average speed after the flat tire (from leaving my Garmin on the whole stop) dropped to 9mph. Yikes. I need to ride the rest at 16mph and get the total avg up to 13.5mph to make the cutoff. My avg speed is picking up nicely. This is going to be fun. I finally relax and trust I will do this whole ride. Time to enjoy it.
It was beautiful. The rain stopped. I was hydrating well, consistently stuffing my suit with ice at every aid station. I loved the peanut butter and white bread they had. I felt great. It was definitely getting warm and with each aid station stop my ice would melt faster. If I was bored, all I had to do was look up. The scenery was amazing- rainforested mountains, crisp shades of green, rice fields, huts. Looking down, the roadkill was interesting- turtles, frogs and a few really big creepy snakes.
The children who lived in the huts and shacks along the expressway were standing on the bridges cheering us on and collecting our dropped water bottles to drink. “Goooo ma’am” (sounds like Go MOM) and “Hola ma’am!!” Most were not wearing shoes. They were beautiful and sweet children. I would smile and wave at them and they would love that. As I looked over at the makeshift homes in the fields and ravines, I had a powerful realization. My bike probably costs more than their houses. They may not be able to comprehend how much money I spend on this sport and trip here. What I am doing is so far from their world. The children are collecting our used bottles and drinking what is left! Sobering. My perspective had been forever changed. I owe them way more than a wave and smile so I yell out as loud as I can, “Salamat!!!” (Thank you).
The animals along the way made me laugh. The ride was quiet and all I could hear were roosters and my pedaling in the background. Then I hear this loud, snorting chewing sound. I look to my right and only a few feet away is a giant white cow/ox chewing grass just off the side of the road. My bike course is essentially a freeway and there is a cow right there (as well as children). The cow made me giggle.
It was getting hotter now. The rain and cool was long gone. I looked forward to each aid station as my ice was melting faster. I felt fine except for when I had to pass the burning rice fields. So much hotter.
My average speed was picking up just fine. Well past total avg 13.5mph. I am going to be fine. I started calculating what my finish time would have been if I had not stopped. I estimated I lost about an hour. I would have finished under 7 hours, better than my last Ironman on a much more brutal course. How frustrating. At least I got through the flat and will make the cutoff.
Mile 95 or so I was getting really hot now. I had remained fairly comfortable until now. My ice was melting as soon as I put in in my top at the aid station so I’d pile more and more and fill my drink bottle with ice. Ugh. I kept eating, hydrating and calculating how much I have had to eat and drink so far---plenty. I was getting nauseas. I know this feeling well and have plenty of tools to deal with it. Always came 9-15 min into my hard heat training. I was fine though. The peanut butter bread felt good. The bean paste cookies they offered were nasty. My apologies to the volunteers at the table where I just spit it out on the ground and left. That was pretty rude.
I reminded myself that I did not have much to go. My power remained steady and exact. I’m good.
Last aid station then the “short steep climb to Tipo gate.” That is how they describe it. I honestly cannot recall how steep the downhill was coming out. I was getting foggy. I stopped at the aid station and forgot what I needed there. Oh yes- ice- lots of ice and fill my aero bottle with ice and Gatorade. I had plenty to drink and I was peeing a lot throughout the race. The ice and shot bloc I ate woke me up but the ice melted fast. I stuff as much as I can fit in my top. Time to climb.
So many cars. Why are they suddenly here? Where is my open lane? Ugh. So overwhelming.
Small climb, flat, small climb, toll gate, other toll gate, small climb. I’m still waiting for the “short steep climb” and I’ve passed two gates. I’m tired form all the small climbs. I was ready for a short steep and then a descent into town. More smaller climbs. More heat. Ugh. I feel whiny. Okay. Drink more, eat a little more. Almost to the top finally! Yes! Time to descend and look for monkeys. Total avg speed 14.7mph from 9.0mph. Excellent. While not at all an impressive avg pace, it was a solid comeback form the hour lost from the flat and I stayed in my power zone.
The descent is nice but full of cars so I had to remain on the side. I avoided the sides the entire time because of debris that could cause a flat. Oh well. No monkeys either. I arrived in Subic town to a sudden increase in humidity. OMG it feels like a sauna. I guess it was drier on the expressway. My total time was about 7:50 something when I arrived in Subic. Okay I want to keep this under 8:00. I see runners, walking and looking miserable all with ice.
Oh crap. I have to run now. And no more breeze from the bike. And its’
really hot now. Omg! OMG!! OMG!!! I quickly interrupt my mini panic and
refocus. I made it to the run! I finished the bike despite a flat and monsoon.
I did it! I also feel crappy but it’s Ironman, that’s normal. I review my
hydration, nutrition and pace plan for the run. Taking in the last breeze, I
arrive at T2.T2 Goal 6 min; Actual 09:16
OMFG! It’s so hot. No clouds. I’m foggy. I stared at my box completely confused and overwhelmed. No idea what to do next. Shoes? Helmet? Drink? Sit? Stand? I don’t know!!!Okay lets pour the ice water from Luna’s Hydroflask into the Camelback. Just cool water left. Awww. I drank some to reset. Get my shoes and I’m ready to go. It felt amazing to run out of T2. I am tires AF but happy to be starting the run.
Run
It feels pretty tough to start. I am thrilled to hear my family shout at me. My legs feel fine but my brain is foggy. All good. Eat. Drink. Aid stations every kilometer so I commit to getting ice at each one to survive the run. Got into a rhythm. Pace is solid. I’m tired but I can do this. I go from feeling fine to feeling like this is the most brutal run I have ever done in seconds. And seeing the faces on the runners coming back didn’t help. They looked miserable. I’m not sure why it feels so hard. While it is warm, I’m not actually hot anymore. I remind myself that I knew this race was not ever going to be a picnic so suck it up and keep moving. Sunset will be here soon and it will be cooler.
The aid stations are wonderful and a life saver. I run from aid station to the next looking forward to it. My nutrition is tasting awful. I hate my warm NUUN in my camelback. Having the camelback on my back is annoying. I was never annoyed by it in training. I need to get rid of this. Next time I see James I’m giving it to him. Shot blocs- meh. Not thrilled with them. I can tolerate them. I try Gatorade at the next station and that seems to work. It’s cold. So every aid station: gatorade, water, ice in front, ice in back, cold water poured over me. Loved that. Let’s try soda—I don’t love it but it is not making my stomach worse. Gels- absolutely not.
It is getting dark, excellent. I envision tucking myself in for the night for the rest of the run. It feels more humid. Looking forward to the turnaround. It gets darker, quiet and lonely. Cicadas and bullfrogs are singing. I appreciate their songs. I appreciate the tropical humid smell….and here comes the sewage smell. And here comes my food! Nice work Cecily, you just puked on the course. Ugh. I’m sure the other runners will appreciate that. I move to the side and grass. I’m not done involuntarily heaving but nothing more coming up. I can’t stop the heaving. I try to keep the hydration coming only to end up heaving again once it stopped. After a few stops I decide it’s time to learn to run and wretch at the same time. Ha! Apparently, I am not coordinated enough to make that work. Let’s walk and heave. I can do it but I’m way off balance and nearly tripped over the curb. I stop and let it pass.
Small goals now. Focus on the road in front. Continue moving forward. Continue running. Walk if I start to wretch again. Focus on road and move to flat part. Ahhh my body is silent and peaceful. Aaaaannnd it’s back. Keep walking. Fortunately it didn’t last long. Excellent. Is it over? Let’s try running. Okay. So far so good. Next aid station I drink a little water. And here it comes. And it stops. Let’s try a banana. Meh. It’s neutral but I cannot eat the whole half. The wretching slowly subsides. My diaphragm and tongue hurt.
Back in town. Turn left then down Rizal Rd to hotel and a bunch of little roads winding in town. I have a smooth patch coming into town. My stomach is stable so I skip drinking and nutrition for about 3 aid stations to let it rest.
And just like that I go from stable to nauseas and dizzy. I remind myself that I know this feeling from heat training. I suck on a ginger candy and keep moving forward. The town, the cars, the noise, the lights are so confusing and overwhelming. The smell is awful. It makes everything worse. The dizziness and nausea are getting worse. OMG please don’t wretch, please no! And I don’t. Yay. I turn past the finish hearing athletes cross the finish line becoming Ironman finishers. I can’t wait! After the turnaround, just one more loop.
It is getting hard to run. My eyes can’t focus so I walk a bit. Maybe I really should get my eyes checked when I get home. Walk. Run. Move forward. Reach 13.1mile turnaround. I stop. I need to see better. I put my head down and stretch my hamstrings. OMG that feels so much better! Upside down. Good. OMG I could nap. I slowly get vertical, the dizziness subsides. Start moving and get back to a rhythm.
I return to some semblance of a rhythm as I get back on Rizal Rd. I see James. He runs with me, actually I inadvertently walk with him. Feeling dizzy on and off but I can deal with it. He stays with me until the turn down the long, lonely, dark road out of town. I am glad to be back there. The stimulation in town was way too much. Running again, feeling better. And that lasts only a brief moment.
WTF?
Try the shot blocs, soda, gatorade, ice, water over me again. I’m hot. I’m freezing. I feel smothered. It’s not hot out. I start to check out, as in not remembering the last kilometer I just ran or how I got to the next aid station. That’s weird. Maybe I’m at the same aid station and never left? The volunteer asks what I want. I don’t know. They handed me a Gatorade cup and I have no idea what to do with it. I stare at it and ask the volunteer what I do with it. He tells me to drink it. I question, “But it’s blue? Why is it blue?” He says, “drink ma’am.” Okay. It tastes great. I think I can live off this on the run.
Next aid station. Again no clue getting there. I feel like crap. I am really dizzy. I stop and hang my head down. OMG everything is spinning. I close my eyes and it’s a little better but I’m losing my balance. I put my hands out and end up in downward dog. Stable. Good. I slowly get up. OMG it feels like a disco. WTF? Let’s go back down, it feels better there. Deep breaths. Slowly rise again. A little better. Let’s run to the next aid station and try to stay present. My face hurts. It feels like it just got burned. I used sunscreen today, maybe not well enough. It gets hotter. I put some ice on it and eat some ice too. The rest of my body is freezing but I can still feel the humidity.
I arrive at the next aid station. I think, or maybe it was the same one. I’m seeing colors, I’m going down. I grab the blue barrel full of ice and hang on and lean my head down holding on tight. I close my eyes and the colors are gone. I don’t know how long I did this or what happened. Next thing I know is a volunteer is tapping me and saying, “ma’am are you ok?” OMG I think I fell asleep. I’m mortified. I reflexively tell him I’m ok. “Okay,” I tell myself, “let’s get up and get this done. You had a nap.” I get up. Nope. Everything is spinning again and the colors are back. Back down hanging on the barrel. I’m drifting in and out. I think I have this brilliant idea that if I bury my whole head and shoulders in the ice bucket upside down it will help. My face is burning so that would be great. I could nap once more time there and be good to go. It makes perfect sense. I go for it but the volunteer interferes with my grand plan and tells me, ”no, ma’am, you can’t do that.” I don’t have the energy to argue. I guess he is right. My sweaty head will contaminate the ice for the other athletes, duh. I get back up and the balance is lost again. Seeing an empty chair at the aid station, I ask if I can sit there. I sit with my head down between my legs which is better. My arms were tired from hanging off the barrel. This was great. Way better. I’m getting better. Okay now I can get this done.
I slowly get up.
OMFG!
My legs are like concrete.
I use all of my upper body strength to get up out of the chair.
And I’m up.
I wait and get my bearings.
And tell myself to move forward.
One step, two steps, I see the colors and spinning and feel like I am going down.
I sit back down. More like flop back.
Sitting in the chair now, it feels like hours have passed. I feel stable enough to sit up. I look at my watch and realize I still have time to finish. I get up again. F%*@!!!!!! What is this? What do I need? Sure, a nap but seriously, WHAT DO I NEED? I need to problem solve. Think hard, Cecily. I need IVfluids. I ask a volunteer if I can get medical here to give me some IVFluids and if they did would that disqualify me from the race. They said they can get someone here and it would be fine. Okay let’s conform with medical when they get here. Maybe I can get 250-500mL and be on my way. I put my head back down and the ambulance is here. It was actually sitting across the street. I ask their medic if I can get an IV and continue racing. They say yes but I need to get in the vehicle. Okay. Getting up was a lot of work, I was losing balance so the medic helped me.
In the ambulance they ask if I want to sit or lie down. Sit. I just need a quick IV so I can run again. The doctor, yes they had an MD on the ambulance. “Let’s get some information from you, ma’am.” The questions they are asking are really hard and require way more thought than I want to do right now. Questions like what happened? how do I feel now? My name (I knew that one)? Race number – no idea but it’s on my bib. I can’t read my bib, I can’t really read any print right now. So I show her the bib. They give me oxygen. Oh yes! THAT feels great!!!And I’m freezing now. The doctor starts an IV in my hand. Impressive as at home they usually start IVs AC in the field. Oh yes she is an MD. Well done Ironman Philippines. Solid staffing on the medical. Love it. I wanted to tell her all about my family. My father and how he went to UPhil Med. But none of that came out. Words were too much work. Thoughts were work. She asked if she could give me Reglan for the nausea. Heck yeah!!! Then the nausea will go away and I will be good to go. She asks again how I am feeling. Better. Until I move my head, then the room is spinning again. Meds aren’t working yet.
She looks at me and tells me, “it is my medical opinion that you go to the hospital for more IV electrolytes.” WTF? Isn’t that what you are giving me now in that unmarked bottle hanging there? I ask her to give me some here. She cannot. But I just need a little so I can finish the race. Again, like a broken records she says,”Ms Arenas, it is my medical opinion that you go to the hospital.” I tell her no, I need to finish the race or at least try to finish. I tell her I promise to go to the hospital AFTER I finish. She says it again and adds “…for your overall longterm health and safety.”
The dizziness is not going away. I don’t know. I think of my kids and family. I think of my future grandson, Arlo. I don’t want to disappoint them by quitting. I also want to remain healthy. I’m proud of my health. It was the “for your overall longterm health and safety” that struck me and woke me up.
Ok, I agree to go.
Oh God, WHAT have I just done?
They lay me down on the stretcher. It feels great to lie down. The light on the ceiling of the ambulance was too bright but I continued to stare at it going in and out of consciousness. The Reglan makes me feel high/drunk and really sleepy. I recall the siren and a bumpy ride. I then feel the insecurity of not knowing where I am going. I need to call James but I have no information for him. The ambulance said St…something, Olongapo. I guess I’m going there? We arrive to the ER. They wheeled me in in a wheelchair which I initially refused until I nearly pulled the IV out of my hand trying to get out. I hated it. I hated being in a wheelchair. They help me into the ER bed. I’m feeling better but still dizzy, really sleepy and foggy. Long story short- So many questions, so hard to think, they want to run labs and imaging, I want to just go back to my hotel, my insurance doesn’t work here, I don’t have cash or my phone, I sign refusals, I’m freezing, lots of athletes in the ER too, a lot of waiting around. I want to leave now. I’m freezing.
I tell the Ironman representative who happened to be there since the beginning, that I’m ready to leave. He had introduced himself upon my arrival and said he is here to help me in any way that I need. I assumed he was my ride back, the guy who notified my family and eventually took my timing chip. He says I need to be discharged first. I get discharged…finally. I ask him to call my family because he did not already. He cannot because the number is a US cell number that he cannot call from his phone and most people here could not. “Okay so how do I contact my husband and let him know I’m here?” I ask him. He says, “Why don’t you just go to your hotel and surprise him?” Okay I must have heard that wrong. I’m foggy, I can own that. “Seriously?” I ask. “Yes.” He says with a perfectly straight face. He meant it. Okay, “so you will take me back to my hotel then?” I ask. “No, ma’am, I have to stay here but I’m sure you can get a taxi.” No money. They tell the taxi that I will get money from my room at the hotel and he agrees. I don’t have money in my room. I’m sure my family is NOT there. I don’t have a key. BUT I want to leave NOW and I just have to trust it will work or I will just disappear after the taxi drops me off and deal with my karma later. We go. My hotel helps me out and everything is good.
Now to find my family, gather my gear and hand in my timing chip. Ironman representative at the hospital said he couldn’t take it and I’d have to hand it in myself. Ouch. Fortunately my gear was at the finish across the street from the hotel. I was able to walk straight (sort of). I just felt a little drunk at this point. It’s sad, the race is over. They are cleaning up the area, the giant finish line lights are off. People are still there, the last finishers. People gathering their gear. My heart sinks. I didn’t run through that finish line. It stings a lot.
I see my family. I see Liam and Luna!!! They see me and run over to the gate. (They later tell me I looked really drunk walking towards them) I’m holding my timing chip looking for some official to take it. The look on Luna’s face I will never forget. Her arms were wide open. She knew. She gave me her heart at that moment at hugged me tight. OMG I love my kids. They saw the tape on my hand and asked if I had an IV. I told them what happened.
I need to get my bike and gear. Liam goes with me. He is very insistent to the volunteers that they let him in T2 to help me with my gear. He tells them I was just in the ER and will need help. They tell him no. He pushes. They promise they will help me and he can wait there. He continues to push with such authority. I tell him it’s okay, I’m fine and to wait here. He asks if I’m sure. Yes. He assures me he will be right here. That warms my heart. My kids are amazing, REALLY amazing.
Overall I feel blessed and honored to have been able to swim, bike and run in the Philippines. Seeing the children on the bike gave me perspective.
What is important?
My family.
Children- all of them.
Helping others.
My health and safety.
Sure it stings especially when I do not have that beautiful medal with such a meaningful story behind it.
I felt strong, mostly. I was very well prepared. My post race recovery the following days was incredible, the best it has ever been - a testament to how well I trained. I felt good then next day.
I reviewed repeatedly what could have led to the near syncopal events in the run. What did I do? What did I miss? Where was my head? I didn’t feel particularly hot. I hydrated and took in nutrition perfectly. I pee’d a lot on the bike and even a few times on the run and continued to take in fluids. However, my extremities were like marshmallows, fingers to shoulder and thighs to toes. The fluid went elsewhere and not where it needed to go. When I measured my sodium intake afterwards, I only took in about 1/3 of what I actually needed on the bike. I lost my Basesalts early on and just focused on nutrition, hydration and ice. If there is a next time, I will get my sweat rate tested and know exactly how much salt to take in and carry prefilled tablets and take them on the clock. If they offer another full distance Ironman Philippines, there is no doubt that I will go back and finish strong. In fact, I pray they do hold another.
I had an epic swim and bike. I was confident going in. I LOVED the bike course. And I was overall happy with the organization of the race. The volunteers did a good job keeping us cool out there. And keeping me from burying my head and shoulders and passing out in a giant ice barrell!!!! Thank you volunteers!
Thank you to all of my friends and family everywhere who supported me in training and especially after the race. It made the sting of the DNF a lot less painful and allowed me to focus on what is truly important rather than wallowing. A special thank you to my beautiful, patient and badass family. You all are amazing. I could not have made this journey without you. Thank you James for being my running buddy and feeding me. To Luna and Liam- Thank you for letting me take over your bathroom for on the bike sauna training. Thank you Coach Julie for all of your hard work helping me work through, push through and be patient with myself. The training was spot on and because of you I am a much more mature and fit athlete.
Finally, thank you to my father. Thank you for the divine interventions along the way. Particularly on the bike when I had the flat. Thank you for letting me journey on your homeland and get a glimpse of your life. It was truly an honor.
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