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lafuerte01-blog · 5 years

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It Is Only Impossible if you Don’t Try

IM Cozumel 2019 Race Recap

The hardest part of any story is trying to figure out where to begin. And in this case, do I start where my training began in April 2019 or do we start with race week? Or do you call this story, “A Tale of Two Kilgore’s” because (spoiler alert here) – one Kilgore trained her ass off and woke up at zero dark thirty multiple times throughout her 6 month training and had upwards of 6 hour long brick workouts while the other Kilgore just winged it and finished only an hour and a few minutes after the other. Thinking back, who was the crazier person? The one that invested time, lost sleep and spent a lot of money training, or the one that did next to nothing and still earned the coveted Ironman title? But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let’s start with race week. Met up with my coach a few days before heading out of town for the race. The good news was there was nothing magical that I needed to know. I already knew it. I had practiced it weeks and months on end. I just needed to execute it. The downside was I was so amped up and just wanted to RACE. My mind was ready. My body was ready. Unfortunately, it was Monday and I still have 6 days to wait. So I rested. Or not really “rested” but went from 1.5 hour swims to 45 minute swim workouts. And reduced my wattage on bike workouts and didn’t run full sprints at the track. So I had 3 workouts to keep me busy, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday leading up to my departure to Mexico on Thursday afternoon.

I was never nervous about the race. I was more nervous about whether or not all my shit would get to Cozumel. If my bikes would make it unscathed. If I would forget anything. Never doing a race of this magnitude, wasn’t sure what I’d need for special needs bike and special needs run. I prepped a collective 10 hours just packing for the race. And still had to pack for the vacation that followed! In thinking back, if I could just have someone pack for me, that would have reduced my stress levels 1,000%.

(Above: all of my OCD packing in action)

I realized during this time there was also no way that 2 bikes and 4 pieces of luggage along with 4 humans would be able to be transported in our Camaro or Altima. People talk about “marathon brain” in terms of forgetfulness during the peak of workouts. Imagine if I woke up the day we flew out and realized we didn’t have the right cars. Thankful that my brain was always in overdrive that last week so that I was able to connect with two amazing friends, Kevin and Jonny, to transport us and our luggage in their Texas sized trucks to and from the airport.

(Above: Thank goodness for friends with trucks!)

I learned the night before that my tri-sister Julianne made a sign to send Joe and I off on our trip. I appreciated her time in making something so badass!

The Flight Out (3 days before the race)

I don’t know how I stumbled upon it but in researching the prior host hotels/resorts and trying to figure out the math for the best flights into either Cozumel or Cancun, I found an American Airlines Vacation package that got us the best flights, direct from DFW to Cozumel with our host resort included. SCORE! Other options included flying to Cancun and schlepping our things on a ferry to Cozumel. More logistics made for a more stressed out Bethany so obviously the direct option was so worthwhile. While waiting for the plane, our gate was taken over by families and participants of the race. Joe joked this would be the fittest flight out that day. We met up with a couple who were being Sherpas for their friend. We also met up with a lady from California (Lilian) who was hoping to PR this race and get a sub 12:00 (she did! 11:50 was her finish time). She was with her two young ones and we were happy all our kids were appeased by electronics as it had already been a long day.

On the plane, Joe ended up switching seats with a family that was separated so the son could sit with his mom. Let’s face it, he needed all the good karma he could get! In doing so, he sat next to an IronFamily – Keith and his wife. Apparently Keith got his canisters confiscated at the airport and wasn’t sure where to buy them. Being the super anal-retentive person I am, I researched and followed every blog and Facebook group related to IM Cozumel and told Joe off-hand during a conversation that if they run out of air canisters at IM Village, we can go to the local tri store called Cabrillas. Joe relayed that info and Keith was super appreciative. It’s like they became best buddies that day. And they were buddies the entire weekend to follow- as not only did Joe sit next to him by sheer luck, but Keith and his family happened to be at the same resort. In the same villa. Exactly two floors directly below us. It’s truly a small world. After arriving in Mexico, we were in a bit of a panic as I found one bike but not the other. We literally were the last family out of customs because of this one bike bag being separated from the pack. And it’s not like customs is fast in any way and on top of that we’re on island time so we waited patiently.

(This is what Cozumel airport looks like when you’re the last one in customs)

On top of it we randomly had to have our bags gone through because that’s what must happen when you’re tired. So when we exited to get to our shuttle that had been waiting now for an hour and ten minutes, we got accosted by a tour group that posed as a front for our van service. After realizing they were selling us a tour package, I kindly said no and headed out to our van, curious if it would even be there. It was. And after hauling everything into the back we loaded in the van and took in the 25 minute drive through downtown to the resort. The downtown area was decked out for the race with welcome signs. The island was crazy busy with taxis and scooters everywhere. I was thankful when we finally arrived at the resort which was away from the hustle and bustle for some authentic, local food and rest. The family got to experience my favorite cochinta pibil and salbutes yucatecos for dinner. We had seconds of each. Dolores was the best waitress by far the entire time at the resort. We filled our bellies and went to bed.

Friday morning, two days before the race

After waking up, Joe and I assembled our bikes. It was then that I realized I left a second flat kit back at the house. If not already familiar, the Kilgore’s have notoriously bad luck at races with flats and spokes but I figured the extra flats I packed would just have to go into my special needs bag and hope I didn’t need a second or third tube before picking up the special needs bag at mile 60 on the route.

We went to IM village that afternoon to pick up our race packets, find our name on the IM wall, take obligatory photos with the Ironman sign, and look about the IM store to buy all the things. But since this was an IM branded race co-sponsored with Adeportes, the items weren’t as plentiful as many IM 70.3 races. And most of it was already picked over. But maybe that was a good thing because we got out cheaper than if all the things were there. We obtained our IM wristband, our timing chip, our race bags, all inside a nice IM Cozumel branded backpack along with a nice race belt. Because Joe is notoriously known for meeting up with random people he doesn’t know, we ran into my FTC teammate Julie Adams and her IronFamily and spoke with them for a while. He had worn his FTC shirt to go to IM Village in hopes to run into someone; it worked.

(Above: Awesome name placement)

While at IM village, my brother Brian arrived so the kids and I walked to meet him. After a brief hello it was about that time that Joe and I had to go to the mandatory athlete briefing. As we waited in the hot sun, we passed it off as “acclimating to the heat” and saw our IronFamily man Keith there. Because it was so hot and Brian just landed, we had him take the kids so they didn’t have to be bored out of their minds. After waiting a half hour or so after the scheduled start for briefing (again, island time) we got into the cool AC building, sat up front, and had a truly enjoyable time meeting our two emcees and announcers for the race. They made a lot of jokes which made for a lighter mood and helped us all feel special for what we were about to embark upon.

SATURDAY (the day before the race!)

I was thankful I spent the 10 hours packing my essentials in advance and took meticulous notes of the contents within (see picture below) because when we picked up our race packets, I essentially just had to place my Ziplock bags into their respective bike, run and special needs bags. Joe and I got up early to ride our bikes to and from the official swim practice site. Our bikes were tuned up before the race by Velofix but of course the derailleur was jostled during the flight so my bike had difficulty getting into my middle gears of my big chain. So I knew after our swim practice I’d need to get in touch with bike tech at the resort. I was excited for the swim and wanted to be able to feel the current that would carry us toward the finish. Unfortunately, my new goggles that I had only swam in 5 times decided to leak during my practice swim. And there wasn’t a kayak or lily pad for me to rest on to fix them. These are the moments you need to know how to handle during the choppy start of a swim start anyway. I pulled off to the side, flutter kicked vertically and tried to adjust my goggles. Still no dice. After doing a lap with my left goggle trickling in sea water, I decided to get out and reset. I did a second quick circle swim and things seemed to be ok. I never got to catch the current and was a bit unnerved that my swim practice wasn’t as great as I expected. But I got the experience of dealing with unfortunate circumstances and kept my cool. And it’s an understated important skill not to over exert yourself during a stressful start of a swim before a long race day.

After getting back to the resort, I was thankful to have an onsite mechanic help with my bike and I was relieved to not have to worry about it as again, team Kilgore usually has issues on race day with their bikes. We still had to transport our bikes and based on our bib number, we were the final group of the day (3:30-5p). So in the meantime we headed into town to shop at some local stores and shop for souvenirs. When we got back to the resort, the family headed to the beach while Joe and I lugged our bikes to drop off at bike check-in. We were the only ones on the bus that picked us up at the resort. We had time to rack the bikes, get a lay of the swim out portion of the race, our changing tents, and familiarize ourselves with our rack location and bike out. Joe and I both lucked out that our bikes were racked in the same group; mine was at the front of the rack coming out of the changing tent – Joe’s was at the very end of the rack. We had a long way to bike out but it didn’t matter – we would just walk our bikes and calm our heart rates to prepare for the long ride ahead of us tomorrow.

There was a bit of an issue getting the free bus ride back from mandatory bike check in. We waited 30 minutes before even being told there were no more shuttles running to the resorts. Apparently the bus we rode in on was the last one running but none of the other 10 people waiting with us was told that information. We met a guy from Cincinnati who graduated from Indian Hill High School- he was there with his wife and they were also doing their first IM race. Also saw Lilian there whom we met at DFW from California doing her 3rd IM. So after a few of us argued a bit with the IM volunteers about the free shuttle service fiasco, the group won out and we were able to get a bus to take us back to the resort. It was a minor blip I thought but to be stranded several miles away with no money to go back was a bit unnerving. Definitely not something I wanted a day before the race.

When we finally returned, we headed out to the beach so I could test out my backup pair of goggles in the ocean. After doing a few laps in front of the resort and snorkeling with the family, we got showered and met up with my friend Gloria for dinner.

Side note: you never know what random acquaintance you have from your past may mean to you many years later. In 1998 I went on a study abroad trip to Merida, Mexico and met up with Gloria Martinez. She was a dance instructor and as part of my cultural studies for 3 months, I learned traditional dances (baile folklorico) and became close friends with her. We stayed in contact, sent each other many letters and mixed tapes, and here we were face to face again after 21 years. It was just amazing. And she would be a MAJOR help and inspiration halfway through the run. I needed her more than I knew. But I’m getting ahead of myself again…..

During dinner Gloria met my family and I got to practice my Spanish while she practiced her English. She gave me a present, a local liquor Xtabentun from the Mayans. I had remembered having this while in Mexico before and it has a unique taste – liquorish and honey. In looking at the bottle we have now at home, apparently Joe really likes it – it’s almost gone! I had my traditional meal before any race, pizza, but wasn’t super hungry. I realized around 9p I needed to get ready to bed and try to sleep. It’s common not to sleep too well before a race. I think I got a solid 5 hours in.

Race morning

I woke up at 4:20a, 5 minutes before my alarm. I was ready. Graduation day was here! We asked the front desk the night before when the shuttles would start running; he said 5:30a. I thought that was late knowing our first transition (T1) opened at 5:15a. Not only that, we had to get to T1 to drop off our special needs bags, set up our shoes and attach our helmets to the bike and check tires for air. And after that had to catch a bus 2.4 miles upward to the swim start. But again, I trusted the information given. So after waking and getting dressed and having breakfast, we get to the bus line early only to find out that there’s a big group there already and the race organizers reduced the busses at our resort from 3 to 2. And the last bus that was coming was the one headed our way – and we were all hoping we’d get on. Some people were angry and hailed cabs. Others just waited (like us) and hoped to get on. It was a full bus but we were able to get on and upon arrival we frantically tossed our special needs bags to volunteers, got our bikes set up with nutrition and water bottles situated. We didn’t top off our tires; we didn’t have time. We just hoped and prayed they’d be ok. We walked hurriedly back to the entrance and waited in a ginormous line to catch the busses to take us to swim start. Met up with Julie from FTC somehow in all the chaos. Again, another issue as we got toward the front, the busses behind us were opening their doors to people waiting behind us so that by the time the busses rolled up, they were full. Participants were angry and the race volunteers were quick to act. We squeezed into a bus already full and took a seat at the very back. I just took deep breaths. Again, logistics are not fun for me and is super stressful when things get out of whack. Minor inconveniences really but seriously nerve-racking before a long day’s event. I ate another sandwich while taking the bus to the swim start. Things were going to be ok. It was then that I realized I had left my UCan back at the hotel. So I was a few hundred calories under what I had hoped but I also packed a backup sandwich and gel in T1. And I had been drinking extra water with electrolytes that morning. I told myself it was going to be ok.

Swim start

Once through the porta pottie line (after realizing they had one for males and females!), Julie and I got on our swim skins, put on Glide and eco-friendly sunscreen (to protect the coral) and tossed our final bag of the day, our morning clothes bag, to the volunteers and headed to our swim start corral. This being a self-seeded start, Joe and I had strategically decided to put ourselves in the 1:20-1:30 grouping. Julie went ahead as she’s a faster swimmer; we wished her luck! Next time I saw her was on the run – more on that later.

I knew I could swim the 2.4 mile distance in one hour and 30 minutes but also knew the current would be helpful. We heard the gun go off for the pros and started snaking around our corral toward the front of the pier. There were drones flying overhead. We waved. We caught up with the guy from Cincinnati and his wife. We congratulated them. Loud music pumping and blaring songs like, “We Will Rock You” by Queen and “Eye of the Tiger.” The pier started to become visible. I saw people tossing small bean bag sized pouches filled with water. People were drinking water and putting water on their heads to cool down. It was 7:40a ish and already warm. Temps were expected to be a real feel of 90 degrees with little cloud cover.

We were a huddled group of people and the sun was blazing. I caught sight of the ocean. It was wavy. Choppy. NOT like anything we had seen the previous days while on the island. This was going to be fun. I kept calm. We were in line with a lady who knew this was our first and saw our watches and told us they only last 14ish hours. Lovely. Again, nothing I can do. I kept fidgeting with my goggles- putting them on and off. Joe told me to keep them off because they would fog up otherwise. And that’s when I realized I forgot to wipe my goggles with the anti-fog cloth. Before I knew it, our group was “walking the plank” to the end of the dock. I placed my goggles on and just like that, I was in the water. I hit the bottom upon jumping in, not realizing it was shallow, so I bounced up and after 8 seconds, realized I had already pressed start on my watch. “It’s go time,” I thought.

The swim with all the people and all the waves could have been worse. I was thankful the swim out to the first of two turns was short. I saw a ton of marine life. There was a sign underwater – I couldn’t stop to read it but later learned it said “If you can think it, you can achieve it.” There were tons of scuba divers watching from the ocean floor. I would have loved to see what that swim looked like from above. I never got kicked or punched like others on the swim. I had people swim up on me but they swam around. I did the same when I came up on others. I kept with a pack. I rarely sighted- when I did, there was a huge wave in my face. I think I only took in one gulp of sea water. At one point I started smiling because I thought my husband was next to me. It took me a while before I noticed it wasn’t him. I swam with a pack of people and kept my pace consistent. I noticed a buoy on my right and thought they were to be on the left so I cut across and in doing so, I caught a nice current. But after a while I lost people. I saw a kayak. I was off on my own and in looking the rest of the group was on the left. So I swam fast to get back with the group. I couldn’t see ahead with the waves but didn’t want to be so far out on the right, despite the awesome current, to not know where I was. I kept up with the pack and found some people to draft off of. I caught sight of a yellow buoy. It didn’t make sense as most of them were orange other than to distinguish that being the half-way point maybe? I never checked my time or distance on the watch while swimming – I just kept swimming. My goggles were pretty fogged up by this point. I got off track again toward the back half of the swim and instead of making a tight turn at the red and final buoy, I instead made a long wide turn to the finish. It’s ok. I was finishing up and was able to climb the steps up and stop the watch. HOLY SHIT! I just had a PR swim: 1:23:51.

I took my coach’s advice coming out of the swim, no running – just walk to the changing tent to calm the heart rate down. I stood for about 15 seconds under a shower to rinse off before going into the women’s changing tent. My goal was to be in and out of the transition tent in 10 minutes. I had played and replayed in my head the things to do while in T1. I ended up doing a full change out from my tri suit and swim skin to bra, bike shorts and a bike top. I had a shower pill towel and a sturdy hand towel to help wipe away any remaining salt. Salt = chafe and I took a squirt bottle (tip courtesy of Jessica Marchi) full of water and sprayed between cracks and bits. Once done, I lightly toweled off an put on my bike shorts with Hoo Ha Ride Glide. I got volunteers to put sunscreen on my body. Slipped on my HR monitor. Ate my backup sandwich and drank my water. I just burned about 600 calories on the swim and needed to top off before setting off to ride. I put on my socks and headed out to my bike. Got my helmet, clipped it on, got my shoes on and walked the long walk to bike out. I checked Joe’s bike rack; his bike was still there. I got nervous. He’s a better swimmer; assumed he got caught up in the changing tent. I figured he’d be right behind me in no time on the bike. Total transition time: 17:02

At the mount line, I was keeping heart rate calm and take it easy. Even a veteran said everyone goes out fast on the first loop. I had written in permanent market on my leg my metrics for the race: 130-140 power, 78-82 cadence, 135 heart rate. I rode out and set off for a comfortable ride.

The Bike

What I was told to do by my coach was to stop every 20 miles and to pee at mile 40 and 80. There were approximately 5 rest stops around the island for the 38ish mile loop. For some strange reason, on my first loop, I decided to hit every single stop and pee at mile 20. I don’t know why I did this but I realized my error after the first lap when I saw Joe. It didn’t make sense that I was coming up on him around mile 46 when his bike was on the rack when I biked out. It took a nanosecond for me to realize my error. In hindsight, that extra 2 minutes per stop was ok; I wanted to take it easy. My HR was averaging 154 and wasn’t budging despite the easy effort. I attributed it to the heat. I also noticed on the first loop my power didn’t seem to be accurate. The day before I noticed this as well and texted the coach; asked if that happened what metric to follow – cadence or HR. Because the course is flat, he suggested both. I kept true to my cadence and only pushed it when I had to make a legal pass or had to back off when someone overtook me. Second loop was faster, I know I pushed it but I felt ok. I ended up grabbing water every 20 miles to top off my bottles and spray myself down (my cooling sleeves, my core, my head). I saw my brother and kids on the second loop of the bike course; got a shout out from someone there who saw my Hotter than Hell jersey and said, “GO TEXAS!” The back half of the island was beautiful. The extra elevation gain was there along with the wind. Thankful I didn’t have to deal with a lot of wind that day and I knew how to climb hills now so I didn’t let the back half deter me. I got to my special needs bag around mile 60 and reset my fuel. Checked my tires, they were ok so I rode on without the extra canisters or tubes placed within.

The final lap is soul sucking. You know what to expect which is a blessing and a curse. The ride through the city was uplifting; you just have to mentally will yourself to the next aide station and hope for some crazy fans out there to support you. Saw my brother and kids again; got the boost I needed but then had the east side of the island with the hill and unrelenting sun. I wanted to take in the scenery, the ocean was beautiful and the blue sea mixed with the blue sky only interrupted by the white ocean spray that crested and crashed into the rocky coast. I noticed the pack was thinning; there was a collective miserable feeling around everyone. I passed someone and he said, “you’re looking strong.” I muttered something back – I don’t know if it was comprehensible. I knew I was coming up on mile 90 and after mile 100 every mile after that would be a distance PR. It was also about this time that I noticed I was getting tired of eating my gels. No worries I told myself- I had packed a glorious PB&J sandwich in my T2 bag. I’d have real food soon. And there’d be more on the run course. I stopped at a final aide station around mile 100 to get more ice and water and sprayed myself down. The first table there had ran out of water bottles so I had to get off the bike and wait for them to get more water to pour into my bottles. The bike course was pretty sparse by then and things picked over. By the time I hit the bike in, I honestly don’t remember anything. I know I was able to get off the bike OK (surprising in and of itself), grab a bottle off my bike and my coach’s bike computer before handing over my bike to a volunteer. Total bike time: 6:49:04.

In the T2 changing tent, I looked around. It looked desolate. I checked the time – I seemed to be doing ok. I asked a volunteer what the local time was. It was early evening – about 4p. I had plenty of time. Did another full change out from bike clothes to run clothes. Chuckled to myself that I was feeling like Beyonce with all of her change of clothes. I was salt crusted and legs were dirty. Took 2 shower pills to clean off. I wanted to clean off to feel better. I wiped my face. I put on my hat, my running shoes, my running belt and grabbed my sandwich and headed out to start the final 26.2 miles of this race. Total time in T2: 19:34.

The Run

I got up and my feet HURT. My arches were super sore. I walked out of the tent and tried to calm my HR down. I felt dizzy. I grabbed water from a volunteer but didn’t feel any better. My watch chimed 30 seconds into the run. What the hell? I had thought I programmed it for a 90 second run and 30 second walk. NOPE. Forgot the last run I had was programmed from my 30 second sprint track workout and 3 minute walk. I attempted to change the intervals but my watch said I couldn’t change while an event was in progress. GRRR. I know what I had to do – this happened at my Houston Marathon where I didn’t have my watch intervals set correctly and had to do it manually – watching the time. It was going to be a long fucking run. While I had PRd my run in Houston that day, this was not going to happen today. It would however keep my mind “busy” and distracted from the feeling I was having while running. Funny because all day I was looking forward to the run and now I was trying to figure out how I was going to continue. Anyone that knows me knows that math isn’t my sweet spot. So my 90:30 run walk intervals weren’t always accurate. I gave myself grace. Didn’t matter. Go by feel. Get some food in you. I tried but my stomach started to heave. I made it 2 miles by this point and needed food ASAP. I recalled that if I couldn’t eat, to at least chew food and spit it out. Even taking food into my mouth made me gag. And my water bottle filled with electrolytes were equally painful to digest. I got dizzy again and tripped and almost fell but by the grace of God caught myself from falling flat on my face. Negative thoughts started creeping in. It was only 2 miles into a 26.2 mile run and I couldn’t eat or drink and was dizzy. I started looking for a medical tent. I never saw one. Honestly – the one time I did see a medic was the last 2-3 miles of my run and by that point, I wasn’t stopping! In looking around, I saw FTC teammate Julie on her run. She was running fast; I was walking. I said hi and she gave me a look that said, “this is miserable.” She was ahead of me and looked strong. Little did I know she crashed on the bike and was bleeding from her knee. She’s a total badass. Was that her first loop? Second? Third? Everyone looked fresh and running fast. I just kept looking at my watch, doing fuzzy math, putting one foot in front of the other.

Along the way, someone asked me if this was a 3 looped course. I said yes. Knowing that, I was near the turnaround by then and felt better for a bit. Around mile 6 or so, a supporter saw me and I guess I looked like death warmed over. He approached me as I walked and said, “Drink the flat Pepsi. Trust me runner. Drink it. And chase it with a lot of water. It will do miracles for you! I know this to be true!” I looked at him and said I can’t keep anything down. I was nervous if I drank it I would get sick. I didn’t want to get sick and get stuck in a medical tent. I just wanted to be done. But I ran off, got to the next table and took the Dixie cup of flat Pepsi and a small water pouch to chase it. It worked. I felt better. The sugar helped. I tried to eat- still nothing. Small bits of food here and there that I chewed and spat out. After the first loop, I felt a bit better.

I saw Gloria on the run while downtown. The crowd was festive. There were still plenty of people on the run. I would be ok. After the cheers of the crowd and the noise subsided, I started working on a game plan. That’s when my Garmin gave me a low battery warning. Shit. Shit shit shit. OK. New plan – focus on food. I saw a table with oranges and bananas and pretzels. I had an orange and it was glorious. Yes. FOOD! Then I got to the banana. Nope. Couldn’t stomach it. I nibbled, chewed and spat a half a banana out. More flat Pepsi and water. Would grab the pretzels on the way back. Realized I had to focus on my run/walk intervals if my watch died before I finished the race. I counted my steps for the run. 336 steps for 90 seconds of running; 26 steps for 30 seconds of rest. I did this several times before I realized running for 90 seconds was too much. My body was too weak. It was getting late and the sun setting. I approached the turn around and looked feverishly for the special needs tent for my bag at mile 13. I had more food in there but didn’t take it. I grabbed my head lamp but in hindsight I didn’t need it. I grabbed my light jacket thinking I would get cold as the night settled in, especially with the wind near the sea wall going back into town. I wrapped the jacket around me and kept running. Then my watch died around mile 14. Not that I was disappointed that I didn’t save my watch during the bike, but that I was running blind. No way to tell if my pace was going super slow or not.

I saw Joe twice on the run; both times it was when I was going the opposite direction back into town to complete my loops. He yelled to me, “You’ll finish – you have plenty of time. You’ll get yours.” I wanted to yell back- maybe I did? I can’t recall. I was in a dark place. You’d think going into town you’d pick up the excitement. Mine was the reverse. I hit my lowest point around miles 17-19. It was at this time that Gloria saw me coming into town and ran with me. She told me I was doing good. That she was proud of me. That I have 2.5 hours to finish one more lap. She was willing to get me anything I needed, do anything for me. I knew it was against IM rules to have someone run and walk beside you but I could not tell her no. Selfishly I needed her. She was my angel and my saving grace those miles. As we approached downtown, I told Gloria that she would not be allowed to run with me or be next to me. Shortly thereafter an IM official came up and told Gloria she needed to let me be. Gloria asked why and she was told the rule and after giving a very mad face to the volunteer, Gloria wished me well.

Being as tired and as dizzy as I was, I just wanted to quit. I felt horrible. I was right in town so if I wanted to quit, I could just walk up to my family and say, “I tried.” At one point I humored myself that I couldn’t quit because I had already bought things that said I was an Ironman at IM Village a few days before. That got me ahead mentally for a half mile or so. But I also just needed to be done. The run was more mental than anything. I had to give myself something to look forward to. Mile 20. That was the new goal. I could get to mile 20 and feel fine, I told myself. More oranges and bananas. I forced a banana down around that time, thinking I could vomit 6 miles and still finish. Still hard to drink my electrolytes so water, water, more water and flat Pepsi when I could stomach it. Spoke briefly to a guy who asked what lap I was on. I said my third. He was on his as well. I told him I was just looking for the damned turn around. He said he was as well. He looked strong and I told him so and wished him well.

There was a group of us that kinda stayed together. We were running and walking around the same pace. We didn’t talk to each other but it was good to know I wasn’t alone out there hurting. I could tell my pace slowed. I didn’t have a damn watch to tell but I knew I couldn’t keep up my pace from before so I ran from cone to cone. Walked the next set of cones. Repeat. When the turnaround came, I knew if I got to a 5k I’d be fine. And I sort of was ok until mile 24.

Seriously those last two miles were insanely hard. I strained to hear the roar of the crowd downtown which sounded a lot quieter. Even the loud band that played continuously for hours seemed to have relocated and moved closer to the finish. I needed something to get me by. I saw kind people on the street giving encouragement, “You’re so close!” “Don’t walk, run!” “You’re going to be an Ironman!” “Go, go, go!” That’s when I looked over and saw a medic on her phone. She wasn’t with anyone – just keeping herself busy. Where the F was she all day? Too late now to stop. Mile 25. Was I now going uphill? How long was this corridor? The band sounded like it was closer now and I could hear a guy on a loudspeaker now. “…..(inaudible name) ... You Are An IRONMAN!”

My thought process went something like this that last 1.2 miles: drink water. Dump all the food you have stuffed in your tri top bra. Fix your hair. Make it look like you didn’t just suffer for god knows however long you’ve been out here. And run like hell when you near the finish chute. I walked a good portion of that last mile just willing my brain to adjust to the new game plan. I inadvertently dropped my water, my lifeline. Damnit! I didn’t want to run with trash in my hand so I jumped a curb and threw it into a trash can and hopped down back onto the course. Ok. Jacket is around my waist and I don’t want it. I’m hot. I can’t toss it. Damnit – just hold it. I see a lady on my right who says, “You’ve got this! It’s just around the corner!” and that’s when I started to run. I mean, run like I meant it. I saw the red carpet and the lights. It was a party scene and I was ready to …… sit the fuck down. But first, that finish line. That glorious finish line. I looked up – did that time say 15 hours and something? I thought I was closer to 16 by my walking pace those last few miles. That gave me a bit of a pep in my step. I put my hand over my mouth – I started to tear up and then I heard, “That’s my sister!” and saw my brother Brian, Gloria, Kaia and my son Kyler with his hand stretched out to high five me. It was a brief second but that moment of seeing their faces and getting that final power boost from my son got me across that finish line.

I heard before I even crossed the finish, “Bethany Kilgore from McKinney, Texas – You are an Ironman!” and then I saw the ramp. A ramp! I had to go up and down that thing and not fall flat on my ass. I was depleted of food, water, electrolytes, and was high on adrenaline so by the time I crossed I walked gingerly across the threshold where some kind man grabbed my arm and guided me through the finisher chute. Total run time: 6:13:01. Total time at finish: 15:02:31.

Through the chute, my kind guide asked me, “Do you want water? Gatorade?” I said no. He said, “I bet you’ll never want another Gatorade for a few months.” I smiled. Then he told me I was going to receive my medal. Medal placed around my head; a few congrats. Ok. More walking. Then he said someone had to get my timing chip. Great. Next he asked if I wanted food. NOOOOO. No food. Ok, so he walked me to get my finisher shirt. I stood in a daze as someone handed me my finisher shirt. I looked around and noticed the line to get my finisher photo. Ugh. I didn’t have the energy to wait. Everyone looked so full of life. I wanted to sit. A nice lady helped me with my things, she fixed my visor which I always wear so low and held all of my sweaty things as I gave a few pained smiles. I saw the rendezvous spot to meet my family. I heard my name and got some hugs. I was super thankful to be done but fell like crap. I thought fresh clothes and sitting would make me feel better. After getting my clothes and changing (which took eternity with tons of foot cramps), I stood up and met my family on a bench. I couldn’t talk without fear of getting sick. I was still dizzy so I wanted to lay down. As soon as I tried to lay down I started dry heaving. Nothing would come but saliva. I knew I was in a bad way so my friend Gloria sought a medic while my brother and kids waited for Joe to finish. I got into a wheel chair and was admitted. It looked like a war zone. People messed up far worse than me. People with EKGs on their chest. Others getting massages from their cramped legs. The guy next to me screaming from his leg cramp getting worked out. I had a nurse come around asking if I was allergic to anything – “just penicillin” I said. She thought it was odd that the three people in bed next to each other were all allergic to penicillin. A nice doctor came over and said I was going to get an IV. A nurse came over and stuck my left arm. Nothing. Stuck my right arm and moved the needle around. Nothing. Had to call over someone else to get to my vein and finally got it in on top of my right hand. I was hot and didn’t want a blanket. I was in my sports bra and shorts that I had changed into along with my Oofos. It took a while to get the fluids in even halfway through and by then I started to get cold. I got an awesome space blanket and neck massage. I strained to hear my husband’s name called but it was busy and loud in the tent. I asked if the medic tent was busy now and the nurse said no, but that it was busy earlier – not enough beds to triage people to get in and get assistance. I got word that Joe crossed and was ok. I was upset that I couldn’t see him cross the finish line but was thankful I felt better at that point. I lulled off to sleep.

The kind doctor that attended to me let me know the medical tent was closing. My fluids weren’t all the way done but I was feeling better. I was thankful to see my family and Gloria waiting outside of the tent. I felt a LOT better. I was eager to shower and go home and sleep. I said my thanks and goodbyes to Gloria and we got a cab. Back at the resort, I told my brother to see if he could get something salty like fries and chips from the late night snack bar. He came back with fries and nachos. I couldn’t eat much but what I did tasted like food for the gods. Brian let Joe and I go to rest; I miraculously had enough energy to take a shower and rinse out all of our bike bottles before laying my head on the pillow. I looked over at the time. 3:25a. Exactly 23 hours of activity that day.

Was it worth it? Yes. It tested everything I had. I learned that Joe crossed about an hour after me with little to no training. And he didn’t need a medical tent. But he ran his race; I ran mine. We did what we each had to do and both became Ironmen that day. It’s been 5 days; I’m hard pressed to want to do this again whereas Joe is eager to go back next year. I’ll happily be his Sherpa!

What I’ve learned throughout this experience is that while this is a challenge of three sports for one person to complete, it’s a necessity to have a village of people that help you get to that finish line.

For everyone that has helped me with any of my training swim, bikes or runs

For the friends that have put up with my insane training schedule and understood that my absence from any social life was temporary (and forgave me when I unintentionally fell asleep at social gatherings when I did go out)

For my daughter who gave me grace when I missed more than half of her soccer games this fall and passed out around 7:30p on the couch during cuddle time

For my son who was patient in getting the adequate drive time in to help him earn his drivers license

Collectively for my kids who allowed their parents to do a race smack dab in the middle of our family vacation

For my coaches who put up with my incessant questions

For my brother’s family for their understanding while they were in the midst of moving into a new home and for my nephew for allowing me to take his dad away on his birthday. I needed my brother’s help post-race and to have fun with the kids while their parents were out doing a silly race

For my dear friend of 20 years Gloria who trekked across the Yucatan Peninsula and took a ferry to Cozumel to cheer me on for 15+ hours

And for my husband who made all the dinners, made all of the post-long weekend workout meals, and kept my insanity in check….

I thank you all.

(Above: my new favorite Christmas ornament next to some of my favorite ornaments: my kids, an old Santa - my grandfather’s who died of cancer, my best friend Lisa and I, and a Mexican sombrero ornament from 1997)

Above: The Kilgore’s enjoying a relaxing day visiting San Gervasio ruins on Cozumel island.... post-race

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