Ironman Canada 2006 Race Report

Post Race

Just wanted to share a couple pics before I go into the race report.

People have asked to see a pic of my new tattoo. Mind you, I'm a 50 year old woman believes most tattoos should be reserved for thugs and sailors. But, I simply couldn't resist the allure of the M-dot tattoo. It was something I could take to my grave (or the crematorium) and show off in the nursing home when (if) the time should come. Only those who have completed an Ironman race are entitled to sport the tattoo.


Next, I want to share a couple images that greeted me when I arrived home. While I had friends with whom to share the IMC experience, none of my family including my husband were in attendance. All week long I had made a joke about my husband staying home to take care of the dog. This is entirely true. She is not well and I fear we will have to put her down soon. Like Flo's poor dog, Mz Nals, my Precious is becoming increasingly crippled. Going up and down stairs is a chore and running around the yard is no longer an option. So, Pat stayed home with Precious (yes, that really is my dog's name!).


In spite of this, we stayed in touch by telephone (oh, the miracle of technology). Unfortunately, on the day I was scheduled to arrive home, Pat had to go to work (he works a swing shift), which meant I would arrive home to a more or less empty (save for the dog and cats) house. As I approached my home, I got very excited. It just felt good to be in familiar territory again. Imagine my surprise, then, when I pulled into the driveway and saw this on my garage door. I was thrilled that my husband had gone to such simple pains to make a big deal out of my accomplishment.

My wonderful husband is full of surprises, though (life with him has never been dull), and he had one more up his sleeve. I was satisfied and content with the sign on the garage door. It meant the world to me and practically had me in tears. But when I entered my home and went into the living room, there were more streamers, a Supergirl (that's another story) balloon, and a congratulatory card. It was more than I could have asked for.

I AM AN IRONMAN!!

YEEESSSSS!!!! I DID IT!

Late Sunday, I became an Ironman.

I've only just gotten home, but don't want to worry others any further. I'm home, I'm fine. My swim and bike rocked. The marathon sucked, but I prevailed and scooted in with less than 20 minutes to spare.

I'll write more when I have more time. Right now, I need to unpack the car, throw some clothes in the washer, and get more to EAT!

Oh, and, yes. I got the tattoo.

Time's Up!

This is it. It's time. Today makes one week to Ironman Canada. One week from today, I hope to be calling myself an Ironman. Of course, it might be a week from midnight when I do it, but still. My bib number is 2483. Strange. My bib number from last year was 2384. That is just weird.

You would think with me being in full taper that I would have had time to add to my blog. No such luck. I don't know how the rest of the blogging world does it. I simply cannot train for an Ironman, work full time, and still find time to blog. I've darn sure had precious little time to read anyone elses blog. My thanks and my apologies to those of you that stop by occasionally to see if there are any updates only to be disappointed. I have several posts started (usually as it relates to my training), but none I've been able to finish. I'm not sure I'll ever get them posted.

Oh, yeah. I turned 50 last Wednesday. Funny thing about that. Remember that Tanita scale post? The one that gives us our relative age? Well, while I was busy turning 50 chronologically, the Tanita scale was busy turning back the clock on me and I turned 30...even 29 in there somewhere. Yeah!

One other funny thing about it. My mother always told me that life begins at 40 and even at 20 I believed her. Once I turned 40, I agreed with her whole-heartedly. So, for my 50th birthday, Darcy gives me a card that tells me "since life begins at 40, that means you are only 10 YEARS OLDS!" Yeeehaaaaw! I'm only 10. When I mentioned this to someone else, they asked if I would have to go through puberty again. Oh, Lordy. Thanks. I think I'd rather face menopause than go through puberty again. Looks like I'll be staying 50. But, I have to admit, I'm more fit at 50 (even though I still weigh 10 or 20 pounds too much) than I ever was at 40, 30, or even 20.

So, I admit that, while I am significantly better prepared this year compared to last, I'm still more than a little anxious about this race. I have some high expectations of myself, like actually finishing the damn thing. However, since I'm one for numbers, let me share a few with you.

	Swim (yds)	Hours	Bike (mi)	Hours	Run (mi)	Hours
2006	118700	54:46	2315.0	168:33	466.7	89:11
2005	141500	63:12	1253.3	95:37	403.9	80:12
Variance	-22800	-8:26	+1061.7	+72:56	+62.8	+8:59

I have quite obviously added traded off some of my swimming time for time on my bike. While I did have fewer yards swimming, I had significantly more miles cycling. Another interesting point. While I didn't have that many extra hours of running this year over last, the time it took to put in the extra miles is significantly less. To help compare and contrast, below is a table of my average times this year compared to last.

	Swim (min/100 yds)	Bike (mph)	Run (min/mile)
2006 Avg. Pace	2:47	13.7	11:27
2005 Avg. Pace	2:40	13.1	11:47
Variance	-0:05	+0.6	-0:27

It must be noted that the above table should be taken with a grain of salt. There are so many variables in the mix. For example, you'll notice I'm 5 seconds per yard slower in the swim this year than last year. However, I spent more time doing kick sets this year than I did last year. On the bike, it shows I'm only a little more than half a mile per hour faster, but it doesn't show what the average terrain was or weather conditions. The only place where the comparison is more indicative of my improved readiness and fitness is on the run. While it's true, I only show a 30 second per mile improvement, over a marathon distance, that adds up to being a full 8 (almost 9) minutes faster.

So, all there is left to do is launder my workout clothes and pack my gear. I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Time is up. There is no more training to be done. There are some short workouts left, yes, but that's just to keep the proverbial pump primed. Training time has come and gone. Now I must have faith in my coach that my training will carry me through the day (especially through the bike and onto the run course). Wish me luck?